#i just want to be without being constantly judged by my family

[lyknest]

.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[chansdoll]

필릭스 ─── between heaven and you

⋆｡ ˚༘ ♫ turning page - sleeping at last

"ever since you came into my life, you taught me all about unconditional love."

♡ pairing ៸៸ angel!felix x afab!reader genre ៸៸ angst, fluff, smut ៸៸ cw ៸៸  brief mentions of sexual assault, depression, suicide attempts, drug and alcohol abuse, blood, domestic abuse (physical, verbal, and emotional), minho is an asshole (sorry), very much a slowburn (felix is YEARNING.) hyunjin is also in this fic as an angel. smut cw: loss of virginity, slightly inexperienced felix, unprotected p in v, vanilla af tbh ♡ synopsis ៸៸ after watching you struggle for so long, your guardian angel falls for you, and ends up breaking celestial laws just to be in your presence. a/n ๑ i tried a different writing style for this story, it took me about three weeks to finish. this was kind of inspired by felix's unfair mv. the concept of him as an angel suits him so well. i'll put content warnings but please read at your own risk, there will be heavy heavy topics mentioned in this fic. - mostly proofread. [ 17k words ] ㅤ ♡ masterlist

felix was there. he was always there, before you even realized it.

life hadn’t been easy for you—that much had been clear for as long as you could remember. your mother walked out of your life when you were only three, and not long after, your father succumbed to liver failure, leaving you orphaned and adrift in a world that seemed designed to crush you. without a family to hold you, to remind you that you mattered, you became just another number in the system, another child shuffled between homes like a piece of lost luggage.

your belongings were carried in a garbage bag, a cruel reminder that you were never meant to stay anywhere long enough to unpack. foster care was supposed to provide a sense of stability, but instead, it felt like a series of cold exchanges, your worth measured in paperwork and stipends.

things took a darker turn when you were placed with your first long-term foster family. at first, you thought the word "long-term" might bring relief—a chance to settle, to belong—but it quickly became a prison sentence. you realized, with bitter clarity, that "long-term" didn’t mean better; it just meant more time to endure. and endure, you did, wishing with every passing day that their home had been just another brief stop on the endless conveyor belt of placements.

the mother was controlling, piling chores onto you to the point where your schoolwork was neglected, causing you to nearly fail your first year of middle school. the father was lazy and critical, spending his evenings in a recliner with a beer in hand, quick to judge but offering no help around the house. unknown to the foster care system or the foster mother, he had a disturbing habit of sneaking into your room at night under the guise of wanting to "cuddle."

it wasn’t until he started trying to undress you that you realized this wasn’t something that was normal between fathers and daughters. 

but yet, you stayed silent. afraid of making them angry. you knew it wasn’t right, what he was doing to you, but they were giving you a home. something you had been wishing for for several years. you didn’t want to pass that up just because some gross dude lifted your nightgown for a measly 5 minutes 3 times a week. 

you stayed in that home for about 2 years until they got tired of you. finally, you were free from that prison.

however, the weight never stopped piling on top of you, the feelings never stopped rising. you didn’t realize it because you were too young, but remembering what that sick fuck did you was enough to leave you nauseous for a few days. you found yourself stuck in your head, constantly feeling his fingertips grazing your inner thigh, his mouth on yours, still smelling the faint odor of alcohol on his breath. 

you hated yourself for letting it slide. for letting him get away with it. you resented yourself for being so fucking afraid all the time. why didn’t you just speak up? why were you so fucking pathetic? the thoughts whirled in your head constantly. 

you had no idea that the flood of dark, tormenting thoughts in your mind was the reason felix came into your life. the first time he truly saved you was when you were just 14.

it was late at night, and you were alone in the bathroom you shared with three other foster girls, each of them sleeping in the room just outside. the door was locked, and your back was pressed against it, the cool wood digging into your skin as tears soaked your cheeks. your fingers trembled as they gripped the little pill bottle in your hand, eyes locked on it as your lip quivered, the weight of the moment almost unbearable. you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going.

everything in you was screaming to stop the noise inside your head, to stop the endless thoughts that tore at your mind. but there was one thing you couldn’t escape—your heart was still beating, and no matter how hard you wished for it to stop, it wouldn’t. so, with a quiet curse, you made up your mind. you were done.

the pills felt like stone as they hit your throat, each one a bitter reminder of everything that was falling apart. you gagged, struggled to swallow, but you forced them down, one after another. you locked yourself in that bathroom, barricading yourself from the world, and for what felt like an eternity, you sat there, on the edge of breaking, hoping for something—anything—to stop the pain.

only for a mere moment was the world quiet around you, the kiss of death just barely brushing your lips..

until something strange happened. it was like the very essence of life itself surged through your body, jolting you upright from where you had been slumped on the cold tile floor. the world spun out of control, and your body betrayed you in the most brutal way—it took everything you had to keep yourself upright as you lurched toward the tub. your stomach heaved violently, the contents of your body fighting against the poison you had just forced in.

sweat dripped down your face as you vomited, shaking uncontrollably, your body a hot mess of fear and desperation. it was a moment of raw panic as you realized, in the haze of your disorientation, that you were still alive. the wave of disappointment hit you like a freight train—how could you still be here? how could it not have worked? you wanted nothing more than to disappear in that moment, to fade into nothingness. 

but he was always there.

a couple of years passed, and you were adopted by a family who genuinely cared for you. they said they loved you, and you told yourself you loved them too—or at least, you thought you did. but you could never quite tell if your feelings for others were genuine or just surface-level mimicry. you heard their words of love, but you never felt it in the way people described—the flutter in your chest, the warmth in your stomach.

instead, there was only emptiness.

you had a family that cared, hot meals, a safe home. by all accounts, it should have been enough. so why wasn’t it? why did you feel a persistent ache for something more?

high school offered a temporary escape, at least for a while. you had a knack for finding trouble—running with the wrong crowd, skipping class to get high or spend hours making out with whichever guy you were dating at the time. in those moments, everything felt exhilarating. the thrill of breaking rules filled you with a rush, and being with them made you feel whole, even if only briefly.

but when you were alone, the emptiness crept back in.

in solitude, every thought became louder, every feeling sharper, relentless in their assault. the weight of it all was unbearable. whether you realized it or not, you were slowly self-destructing, losing the spark and vitality that once defined you as a child. this wasn’t the gradual "loss of innocence" that comes with growing up—it had been stolen from you. and instead of clinging to what little remained, you shoved it all away, forcing it into a dark, unrelenting void of pain and regret.

the second time felix saved you was when you were 16. 

it was a night that seemed like any other, until everything changed in an instant. you and your boyfriend had been at a party, the music loud and the laughter even louder, but the night took a turn the moment you got in the car. he had been drinking heavily. you tried to convince him to let someone else drive, but he insisted, too drunk to even form a coherent argument. you told yourself it would be fine—he was your boyfriend, and he promised he was fine to drive.

but it wasn’t fine.

the crash came so suddenly, you didn't even have time to brace yourself. the screech of tires, the sudden force of the impact—everything spun, and then there was silence.

when you opened your eyes again, the world was a blur, the harsh sound of sirens breaking through the ringing in your ears. your body was heavy, and the pain was overwhelming. you couldn’t move your arm, and it felt like you were sinking into the seat, your head throbbing with every heartbeat. you reached for it, fingers trembling, feeling blood dripping from your hairline. 

your trembling hand reached up instinctively, grasping at anything to try and level yourself while twisted in the vehicle, but it ended up brushing against something warm and wet—blood. it was everywhere. at first, you thought it was just yours, but then you looked to your side.

your boyfriend was there, slumped unnaturally in the driver’s seat. his head hung at an angle that made your stomach twist, and his chest didn’t rise. his face, once so familiar and full of life, was pale and lifeless. for a moment, the world stood still as your mind grappled with the impossible reality in front of you.

you called his name, your voice barely more than a croak, but there was no response. the quiet was suffocating. hot tears blurred your vision as panic overtook you. you reached for him, shaking him, begging him to wake up, but it was no use.

the realization hit you like a cold wave, and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t process the weight of it. 

at that moment, the pain in your body was nothing compared to the weight in your chest. the boy you thought you’d share so many tomorrows with was gone, and you were left drowning in the wreckage of a life that would never be the same.

it was then that you felt it—the presence of someone, something, familiar but impossible to explain. there was a warmth, a sense of calm in the chaos. the sound of voices in the distance didn’t seem so muffled anymore. you could hear the paramedics, shouting instructions, but you felt... distant, almost like you were floating outside of your own body.

“stay with me,” someone was saying, but it wasn’t the paramedics.

“i’m here. you’re going to be okay,” a deep, yet soft male voice rang. the words weren’t loud, they weren’t even clear, but they were enough to settle you, just enough to make the panic simmer down into something manageable. you had no idea how it got there, but the voice was a tether.

you tried to respond, tried to speak, but your body wasn’t cooperating. the world seemed to shift and swirl again, and then you were in an ambulance, being rushed to the hospital.

the moments after the crash were a blur of bright hospital lights, sterile smells, and the constant beeping of machines around you. 

the doctor had placed you into a medically induced coma due to the amount of drugs and alcohol in your system, as well as your severe brain injury. it took some time for your family to arrive at the hospital, but felix stayed with you. he was by your side the whole time you lay there. 

later on, your eyelids fluttered open, your lashes brushing against the dryness of your skin, and it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the harsh white light above you. blinking slowly, you tried to clear the fog in your mind, forcing your surroundings into focus. 

beside your bed, there was a chair. empty. the sight of it hit you like a wave of loneliness. your mind raced. had someone been sitting there? had someone been waiting for you to wake up?

before you could let yourself fall into the quiet despair of it, something caught your eye—a flash of movement. at first, you weren’t sure if it was real or just a trick of your disoriented mind, but there it was again. a figure. a blonde figure dressed all in white, moving swiftly past the door and out of the room.

your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat. it happened so quickly, you didn’t even have time to process it fully. just a flicker of someone in white, someone you couldn’t place, and then they were gone, disappearing down the hallway like a phantom.

you tried to call out, tried to move, but your body refused to cooperate. you were too weak, too broken, too tethered to the machines that kept you alive. who had that been? was it someone you knew?

but before you could think any more about it, the pain returned, sharp and immediate, and all you could do was close your eyes, hoping for a moment of peace. even as your mind raced, as uncertainty flooded you, you couldn’t shake the thoughts, your mind wondering if what you saw was real or just a hallucination from your drugged-up state. 

felix spent countless hours studying you, observing the subtle ways you shifted in your sleep, the way your body would tense when you were about to face the next wave of agony. he wasn’t supposed to be so emotionally attached, not in the way he found himself. angels were meant to be impartial, neutral—protective, but not emotionally involved. and yet, as time went on, felix found himself more and more drawn to you, his gaze lingering longer than necessary, his thoughts turning to you even when he wasn’t near. it was a kind of fascination, but it was also something deeper, something he hadn’t experienced before.

it always pained felix to watch you struggle. it was his job, of course, as your guardian angel, but that didn’t necessarily mean he liked it. his role was simple, or so it was supposed to be—guide, protect, watch over you—but there were moments when it felt like a weight he could barely carry. watching you hurt, seeing the toll life had taken on you, it gnawed at him in ways he couldn’t quite explain. it wasn’t just about keeping you safe; it was about witnessing your inner turmoil, the pain you couldn’t escape, and knowing he could never truly take it away. he could intervene, sure, but only so much.

he became fond of you. at first, it was a quiet awareness—a soft sadness in his chest when he saw your tears, a feeling of helplessness when he couldn’t stop you from making the same painful decisions over and over again. but it grew. he watched how you pushed through your struggles, how you fought to keep living despite everything that weighed you down. there was a quiet strength in you, an undeniable resilience that made him both proud and heartsick.

sometimes, when you were at your lowest, felix would find himself feeling your pain. it wasn’t just an awareness, it was a visceral ache that seemed to pulse through him as if your suffering was his own. and that was strange. he wasn’t supposed to feel anything—least of all the sharp, gut-wrenching pain that you carried with you. angels were above human emotion; they were supposed to observe, not participate. but there it was. he would feel your despair, the weight of your grief, the crushing exhaustion in your heart as if it were his own.

he’d try to push it away, to block it out, but it lingered. it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

after the accident, he had watched you slip into that coma, felt the void of your absence, and during the time you were unconscious, it was like a part of him had gone with you. the pain he felt as you fought to survive, the pull of your fragile life, had him teetering on the edge of something unfamiliar. he wasn’t supposed to care this much. he wasn’t supposed to let himself be moved by your suffering. but he was. and it terrified him.

felix could barely stand it. he was so close, so close to you, but always just out of reach. he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t make you understand that he was there. he had to stay hidden, an invisible force in the shadows. it was one of the many rules he was tasked to follow.

but he was there. and he was watching, as he always did. every time you moved, every time you cried out, his heart cracked just a little more. there were moments when he wished he could reach out, hold you, tell you it would be okay. but he couldn’t. his purpose was to guide you, not to console you the way a person could. and yet, he longed to.

it was strange. it was almost as if, in trying to save you from the darkness, he was losing himself in the process.

he was supposed to help you without complications. but oh boy, did it become complicated. 

“why do you seem down?” hyunjin asked felix, his shoes clacking against the marble floor of felix’s room. felix lay on his sofa, deep in thought. it took him a few seconds to finally answer. “she’s not doing well again,” he said lowly, the sound of sadness apparent in his tone. hyunjin walked over and sat next to him, letting out a soft sigh. “the same stuff?” he asked, referring to your depression. 

felix just hummed in response and nodded, laying his head back down as he stared off into space. “i can't do anything to help her.” he muttered eventually, disappointment in his tone. 

hyunjin studied felix quietly, his own expression a mixture of concern and confusion. angels weren’t supposed to form such deep attachments. they were guides, protectors—meant to observe and intervene only when absolutely necessary. but felix... felix was different.

"you care about her more than any angel i’ve ever seen care for their human," hyunjin said softly, his voice tinged with a cautious curiosity. "it’s not... wrong, exactly, but it’s not normal either."

felix didn’t respond right away. his gaze was distant, locked somewhere far beyond the room they were in. finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper."she’s been through so much, hyunjin. more than anyone should ever have to endure. and she keeps going, even when it feels like the world is crushing her. but it’s wearing her down. i can see it in her eyes, hear it in her thoughts."

hyunjin frowned, leaning back on the sofa. "you’ve saved her before. more than once. isn’t that enough? isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? intervene when necessary and then... let go?"

felix sat up abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "let go? how can i let go when every time i turn my back, she’s falling deeper into the darkness? i can feel her pain, hyunjin. it’s like it’s… carved into my being."

hyunjin tilted his head, watching his friend carefully. "you’re more human than you think, felix," he said quietly, almost to himself.

felix’s head snapped toward him, his expression a mix of surprise and defiance. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means," hyunjin continued calmly, "that maybe you care so deeply because you understand her in a way most angels don’t. you don’t just see her struggles—you feel them. that connection... it’s rare, felix. but it’s also dangerous."

felix looked away, his jaw tightening. he knew hyunjin was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. "i just want her to be happy," he said finally, his voice breaking slightly. "i don’t care if it’s dangerous or rare or whatever else you want to call it. i just can’t stand to see her like this."

hyunjin reached out, placing a hand on felix’s shoulder. "maybe it’s time to think about what she really needs. sometimes, saving someone doesn’t mean fixing everything for them. it means being there, quietly, in the background, until they find their own strength."

felix sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of hyunjin’s words. he didn’t know if he could do that—if he could stand by and watch you struggle, hoping you’d pull through on your own. he had been waiting several years for this, for you to come to, for you to get better. it didn’t seem achievable because of how much you were obviously hurting still. 

but deep down, he knew hyunjin had a point.

all he could do was stay close and hope his presence, even unseen, would make a difference.

a few more months passed, and felix found himself at his breaking point. watching you spiral further into despair was more than he could bear. he had always been bound by the sacred rules of his kind. yet, with every passing day, those rules felt like chains, holding him back from giving you the comfort and hope you so desperately needed.

he began to push the boundaries, leaving subtle signs of his presence. a faint warmth brushing your skin during your loneliest nights, the sudden scent of vanilla randomly wafting through your room–his signature scent.. or the soft flutter of a breeze indoors when no windows were open. felix hoped these tiny gestures would remind you that you weren’t alone, that someone was watching over you. sometimes you’d swear you’d wake up in the middle of the night, feeling eyes on you in your bedroom.

but he knew he was treading dangerous ground. revealing himself to the living, even indirectly, was a direct violation of celestial law. angels were forbidden from crossing into the mortal plane unless absolutely necessary—and certainly not for personal reasons. every time he bent the rules, felix felt the weight of disapproval from the higher realms, but he didn’t care.

all he cared about was you.

eventually, felix realized that his subtle gestures weren’t enough to ease your suffering. the flickers of warmth, the faint scents, and the soft breezes weren’t making the impact he hoped for. so, he made the decision to go further, breaking the rules more boldly than ever before.

what started as occasional visits to watch over you as you slept turned into a nightly ritual. every night, without fail, felix would enter your room, his presence unseen, and settle himself beside you on the bed. he would sit propped against the headboard, his fingers brushing gently through your hair in soothing strokes. this was the only time he saw you truly at peace—your expression free of the sadness that weighed you down during your waking hours. your mind was finally quiet, your face soft and serene, and seeing you like this brought felix a strange sense of solace.

he didn’t feel out of place lying beside you. on the contrary, it comforted him to know that, even if you couldn’t feel his presence, he was there for you during your most vulnerable moments. but simply being there wasn’t enough for him. he wanted you to know you weren’t alone, even if you didn’t understand the source.

so, he started leaving a single white rose in your apartment, always in a spot he knew you’d notice. the first time you found one, you panicked. your thoughts immediately jumped to the idea of a stalker. it would explain the strange sensation you sometimes felt while sleeping, as though someone was watching over you. but no one had a key to your apartment, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced a spare. there were no signs of forced entry, no broken locks or jimmied windows. and living on the tenth floor of a building without a balcony made the idea of anyone sneaking in seem impossible.

yet, every wednesday, like clockwork, the roses appeared. each time you came home from work, you found one waiting for you—sometimes placed carefully on your pillow, other times resting on the kitchen counter where you always dropped your keys.

the mystery of the roses consumed your thoughts. you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched, but at the same time, something about the gesture felt... kind. even as the fear lingered, you couldn’t deny the strange comfort the flowers brought, like a small, silent promise that someone cared. 

you’d sit for hours, turning the possibilities over and over in your mind, desperate for an explanation. the only theory that felt remotely plausible was that it might be a deceased family member—perhaps your father—reaching out to you from beyond. maybe he was watching over you, leaving these gifts as a sign of his presence.

but even that felt like a stretch. you’d never been one to believe in the supernatural. ghosts, spirits, angels—it all seemed too far-fetched. yet, the roses told a different story. they appeared in your locked apartment without any logical explanation, and the sheer impossibility of it all began to chip away at your skepticism.

the more you thought about it, the more your disbelief wavered. you still couldn’t bring yourself to fully accept the idea of something otherworldly, but a small part of you began to wonder: what if there was more to this world than you’d always believed?

it wasn’t until a little later into your adulthood that felix fell for you. he fell for you in a way that was more than he ever thought possible, a deep, unshakable kind of love that bloomed quietly in the recesses of his heart. it wasn’t sudden—it was a slow, inevitable tide, creeping up on him as he spent day after day watching over you, silently observing the subtle shifts in your life, the quiet struggles you faced, and the moments of fleeting joy that seemed to light up your world in spite of it all.

the more he watched you, the more deeply he felt connected to you. he could see the way you smiled when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes shimmered with a mix of hope and pain, and how you carried your burdens with such quiet strength. he admired your resilience, but it tore at him too. each time he saw you frown in frustration or collapse into exhaustion after a long day, it felt like a jagged piece of glass scraping against his soul. the desire to be close to you—to be there for you—burned inside him like wildfire, something so powerful and raw, he couldn’t contain it.

felix found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn’t explain. he watched you laugh with your friends, saw you comfort a stranger, witnessed the quiet moments when you thought no one cared. and in every one of those moments, his heart ached. it ached because he longed to be the one to make you smile, to ease the weight on your shoulders, to tell you that he understood in ways no one else could. he wanted to be the one who held you when the world felt too heavy, who whispered comforting words when you couldn’t find any of your own.

he wanted—no, needed—to talk to you. to introduce himself, to somehow, impossibly, let you know that he knew you better than anyone else ever could. he knew your scars, your fears, your dreams. he had watched you grow, silently and from a distance, always just out of reach. and every part of him screamed to speak, to tell you everything he had seen and felt as he quietly admired the person you had become. every thought he had about you, every observation, every small detail, every fleeting moment, was carved into his soul.

but as much as he wanted that, he knew he couldn’t. he wasn’t supposed to be here, to be seen by you. he was bound by laws that held him away, that kept him a silent observer, a watcher in the dark. his love for you—his desperate, consuming love for you—was forbidden. and yet, it consumed him more than anything else. he ached with the overwhelming need to be near you, to somehow make you feel what he felt, to break the invisible barrier that kept him at arm’s length.

felix would continue to visit at night, his form hidden in the shadows of your room, listening to your breathing, watching your peaceful face as you slept. he would run his fingers through your hair, wishing he could tell you everything. he would hold his breath, praying you would stir, that maybe, just maybe, you would feel him there, his presence lingering like a soft touch, a whispered promise. the thought that you might never know how deeply he loved you—it was unbearable.

felix wanted so badly to be noticed, to have you turn and see him. he wanted you to know, not just that he existed, but that he had been there all along, watching over you, loving you from afar. he wasn’t some fleeting presence, some passing moment. he was here. he had always been here. and all he wanted was for you to know that.

god, he loved you so fucking much. in a way that was all-consuming, in a way that made every moment of separation feel like a quiet ache in the deepest parts of him. he loved you in a way that was both impossible and undeniable. and it terrified him, because he knew he could never have you—not truly. he could only watch. and in doing so, he was bound by something even greater than the laws that kept him from you. he was bound by the love he could never express, the feelings he could never act upon.

and that was the cruelest part of it all—he loved you more than anything, but he could never truly have you.

felix leaned against the door of his home in the astral plane, his body feeling as though it was made of stone, weighed down by the crushing pressure of what had just transpired. his mind was a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts, still reeling from the conversation he had mere moments ago. the higher realms had caught on to his increasingly reckless behavior. he had always known there would be consequences, but hearing the words from the voices of the celestial council made the reality of it all hit him like a bolt of lightning.

a warning, they had said. a warning that if he continued this way—if he kept breaking laws, bending the rules, and daring to reveal himself to the mortal world—he would be cast out. disowned. stripped of everything he had ever known. his immortality would be taken from him, and the wings that had always been a part of him, the wings that had given him his identity, would be severed. he would be cast into the human world, forced to live among those he had been forbidden to touch, to exist as one of them—fragile, finite, and utterly alone.

felix’s chest tightened as the weight of their decree settled over him. he was horrified, and in the pit of his stomach, he felt a deep, aching sense of loss. the thought of being cast down, of losing the eternity that had once defined him, gnawed at him. he had existed for so long in the celestial realms, watching over worlds, knowing his place, and now that place felt as though it was slipping away from him, just as quickly as his heart had fallen for you.

he didn’t want to stop seeing you. he didn’t want to stop visiting you, to stop offering you the comfort he could give from the shadows. the mere thought of no longer being able to watch you, no longer being able to quietly support you from the distance he had grown to cherish, felt like an ache so deep, it was like his very soul had been torn in two.

but at the same time, felix was terrified. terrified of what it would mean if he allowed himself to follow this path, if he let his emotions run wild, if he dared to embrace this connection he had with you. to lose his place among the celestial beings, to lose the very essence of who he was, the very reason he existed—it was too much to bear.

he closed his eyes, gripping the edge of the door as though it might anchor him in the reality he so desperately wanted to hold onto. his heart raced, torn between two worlds—his love for you, and the celestial duty that had once defined his every action. the love he felt for you was dangerous, forbidden, but it was real. the kind of love that carved deep into his chest, raw and desperate, a love that made him question everything he had ever known about his purpose. but was it worth losing everything? was it worth abandoning the very thing that had given his life meaning—his immortality, his place among the divine?

felix didn’t know. he didn’t know if he could make that choice.

all he knew was that the fear of losing you—of being cast away, disowned—was as terrifying as the thought of losing himself.

felix found a small measure of peace when you started dating someone—a coworker named minho. though it pained him to see you with someone else, the thought of minho being there for you when felix couldn’t brought him some comfort. from what felix observed, minho was kind and attentive, and that was enough to keep felix at ease, even if it hurt to stay in the background.

still, felix couldn’t bring himself to leave entirely. he continued to watch over you, always vigilant, ensuring that minho treated you the way you deserved. 

but something shifted in your world, something that didn’t escape your notice. once minho entered your life, the roses stopped appearing in your apartment. at first, you didn’t think much of it, but as the weeks went by without a single flower, a strange pang of disappointment settled in your chest.

you hadn’t realized how much you’d grown attached to the mysterious gifts until they were gone. you had even gone out of your way to display them in a vase, replacing the wilted roses with fresh ones every week, as if honoring the unseen hand that left them. the absence felt odd, almost unsettling.

it didn’t take long for the thought to creep back into your mind: what if it really had been a stalker? but you dismissed it just as quickly as it came. there were no signs of forced entry, no evidence to support the idea. and besides, minho was with you now. if something truly dangerous were happening, surely he would have noticed too.

still, the timing nagged at you. the roses had stopped the moment minho came into your life. was it just a coincidence, or was there more to it? you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d lost something special—something silent and unseen, but deeply meaningful.

as your relationship with minho deepened, felix began to notice troubling changes in his behavior. at first, it was subtle—offhand remarks about the way you did things or minor criticisms disguised as jokes. but over time, those comments grew sharper, more frequent, and far harder to ignore. minho started nitpicking every little thing you did, blaming you for even the smallest mistakes, and turning minor missteps into significant issues.

it didn’t take long for felix to piece together the truth: minho was a narcissist, and worse, an abusive one. his behavior escalated rapidly. the once seemingly harmless complaints turned into outright yelling. he began getting in your face during arguments, his voice laced with venom, his demeanor intimidating. felix watched helplessly as minho’s anger grew darker, his threats becoming more pointed.

the shift terrified felix. there were moments when minho’s fury burned so hot that felix feared he might follow through on his threats. each time minho’s hand twitched or his voice reached a dangerous pitch, felix braced himself, sick with worry that this time, it wouldn’t stop at words.

countless nights, felix lingered nearby, his unseen presence heavy with fear and frustration. the thought of you being seriously hurt haunted him. despite his duty to remain in the background, every fiber of his being screamed to intervene, to shield you from the storm brewing in your own home. 

as your relationship with minho continued and his behavior spiraled further into toxicity, you began to notice something strange: the inexplicable occurrences in your apartment had returned. the faint, sweet scent of vanilla began lingering in the air once more, subtle yet unmistakable. it crept into your senses at odd times, reminding you of a feeling you hadn’t experienced in months.

even more unsettling was the distinct sensation of being watched while you slept—something you’d felt before but had long since faded when minho entered your life. it was subtle at first, a gentle prickling at the back of your neck or the softest shift in the room’s energy. unlike most people, who might have been terrified by the idea of an unseen presence in their home, you felt an odd sense of comfort.

this wasn’t the unease of being stalked or the fear of danger. it was familiar, almost nostalgic, as though the presence itself carried a quiet reassurance. it reminded you of nights when you used to feel a strange sort of peace in your solitude, a solace that had seemed to vanish when minho came into your life.

you came home late wednesday night to find minho sitting at the kitchen island, his posture rigid and his expression already clouded with annoyance and barely concealed anger. you sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for yet another confrontation and wondering what you could have possibly done this time to provoke his ire.

before you could speak, your eyes fell on the white rose lying on the counter in front of him. your breath hitched, and your heartbeat quickened as unease settled deep in your chest. you had a feeling you knew exactly where this was going, but you forced yourself to play dumb, hoping to defuse whatever storm was brewing.

“what’s that?” you asked cautiously, your gaze darting between the rose and minho’s piercing glare.

he let out a humorless chuckle and lifted his head to meet your eyes. “you’re asking me?” he said, his voice calm but laced with an edge that sent chills down your spine.

you swallowed hard, struggling to steady your hands as you fidgeted with your fingers. “i don’t know. i didn’t—”

“come on, y/n,” he interrupted, his tone dripping with condescension. “i’m not stupid. i didn’t give this to you, so who did?” his voice was eerily calm, but his expression betrayed his barely contained fury, which was far more unsettling than when he was openly yelling.

“i-i don’t know, i swear,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you searched his face for any sign of reason.

minho’s jaw tightened, and his fist slammed against the counter, the sharp sound making you flinch. he stood abruptly, towering over you as his eyes narrowed. “bullshit. you got it from a guy. who is he? do i know him?”

“no, minho! i haven’t talked to any guys today!” you cried, your voice rising in desperation as your body began to shake.

“you’re lying,” he hissed, his gaze unwavering and his presence suffocating. he reached for the rose, running his fingers along the delicate petals as though mocking its fragility.

“i’m not,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

minho studied you for a moment, the silence stretching into something unbearable. then, with a sudden burst of violence, he clenched the rose in his fist, ripping the petals from the stem and scattering them across the counter. “clean this shit up. i don’t want to see any more flowers around here,” he snarled before shoving past you and storming toward the hallway.

something inside you snapped. “no,” you said firmly, the word escaping your lips before you could stop yourself.

minho froze mid-step, turning slowly to face you with a mixture of shock and fury. “what did you just say?” he asked, his tone low and dangerous.

“i said no,” you repeated, your voice steady despite the fear twisting in your stomach. you stood your ground, glaring at him with a defiance you didn’t know you possessed.

his surprise faded quickly, replaced by a dark, menacing rage. in an instant, he closed the distance between you, raising his hand and striking you across the face. the sharp sound of the slap echoed through the room, and the sting of his palm seared into your cheek.

before you could even process the pain, a loud crash shattered the tense silence. both of you turned toward the counter, where shards of glass from the vase that once held your white roses lay scattered. the vase had shattered violently, though neither you nor minho had touched it, and you were both too far away for it to have been accidental.

minho stared at the broken glass, his face contorting in confusion and unease. for the first time, you saw a flicker of something unfamiliar in his eyes—fear. and for a brief moment, it felt like the air in the room had shifted, heavy with something unexplainable, something beyond either of your control. 

“get the fuck out,” you spat, your voice trembling with both rage and sorrow as you shoved minho away from you. your lip quivered, and your heart pounded in your chest. he stumbled backward, his usual composure shattered as he stammered, trying to piece together words to defend himself.

“out!” you screamed, your voice breaking as tears began streaming uncontrollably down your face. you clutched your stinging cheek with one hand, the pain of his slap mingling with the ache in your chest.

minho hesitated, his face flickering with disbelief and hesitation, but eventually, he relented. grumbling under his breath, he grabbed his things and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through your apartment.

the silence that followed was suffocating, oppressive in its stillness. you stood frozen for a moment, staring at the broken glass scattered across your kitchen floor. your legs gave out beneath you, and you plopped onto the cold tile, your back pressed against the refrigerator as a sob wracked through your body.

you cried harder than you had in months, your tears falling freely as every ounce of frustration, anger, and pain came pouring out. you were furious—with minho, with yourself, with the cycle you seemed unable to break. why had you let it get this far? why did you allow another man to mistreat you, just because you were terrified of being alone again?

the realization cut deeply, leaving you raw and exposed. you told yourself then and there that you were done. done with minho, done with letting people like him have power over you. and this time, you meant it.

true to your resolve, minho didn’t bother you again. after a week of silence, it was clear that he wasn’t coming back, and for that, you were relieved. but relief didn’t erase the damage he had done.

in the aftermath of the breakup, you found yourself slipping back into the darkness you thought you had left behind. nights were the hardest. some, you spent curled up in bed, crying until exhaustion finally claimed you. others, you lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling as the all-too-familiar numbness crept over you, settling into your chest like an unwelcome guest.

the emptiness was back, deeper and more consuming than ever. it felt like your heart was a hollow shell, incapable of feeling anything but the ache of its own vacancy. and as the days blurred into weeks, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all you were destined for—cycles of pain, brief reprieves, and an ever-present void you could never seem to fill. 

one night, as you drifted off to sleep, your dream took an unusual turn. in the depths of slumber, you saw flashes of golden blonde hair and a face so captivating it felt almost otherworldly. he had plump, soft lips, a delicate button nose, and a constellation of freckles scattered across his skin. his presence was magnetic, his beauty striking yet gentle.

at first, the dream was fleeting—a quick glimpse of him before the scene shifted into the usual randomness of your subconscious. but as the nights went on, he began appearing more frequently. his visits weren’t long, just brief moments where you saw his face, a sense of comfort and calm washing over you before he would vanish again into the recesses of your mind.

though you never spoke to him, you could feel him there. his presence was undeniable, and oddly familiar, as though you knew him from somewhere. the more you dreamed of him, the more he felt like a guardian, someone watching over you from the shadows.

what you didn’t realize was that this wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. it was felix. after weeks of struggling to find ways to be closer to you without breaking the celestial rules, he decided to take a different approach.

he was hesitant at first, unsure if entering your dreams would be too bold, too much of a risk. but he couldn’t stay away. the idea of reaching you in this subtle, intangible way felt like the perfect compromise—a chance to be near you without disrupting the delicate balance of your reality.

so, he appeared to you in fragments, carefully choosing each moment. the dreams were his way of offering comfort, a gentle reminder of his presence, even if you couldn’t fully understand what it meant yet. to felix, it was enough to know he was there for you, even if only in the quiet hours of the night.

the dream started like many others—hazy and indistinct, with colors blending together in a soft, swirling mist. you were standing in a field bathed in moonlight, the grass cool beneath your bare feet. a gentle breeze carried the scent of vanilla, a fragrance that had lingered faintly in your waking hours.

and then, you saw him.

he emerged from the mist like a figure out of a painting, his golden hair glowing faintly in the silver light. his face, with its constellation of freckles and gentle, piercing eyes, was heartbreakingly beautiful. he stopped a few paces away, his gaze locked on yours. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken—something familiar yet strange.

"who are you?" you asked finally, your voice trembling as if afraid to break the spell. his lips curled into a soft smile, and he tilted his head slightly. "you already know me," he said, his voice like a melody, soothing and warm. your brows knitted together, confusion flickering across your face. "i don’t think i do."

"you’ve felt me," he said gently, taking a cautious step closer. "in the quiet moments. when you’ve been at your lowest. i’ve been there." the realization hit you like a wave, a shiver running down your spine. "the roses..."

he nodded, his expression tender yet tinged with sadness. "i didn’t mean to frighten you. i only wanted you to know you weren’t alone."

"but why? why me?" you whispered, a lump forming in your throat.

his gaze softened further, and he crouched slightly to meet your eyes more closely. "because i care about you more than you’ll ever know. i’ve watched over you, protected you, even when you didn’t know i was there." 

your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. "are you... an angel?"

felix hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "yes. and breaking every rule to talk to you like this."

"why now?"

"because i can’t bear to see you in pain anymore," he admitted, his voice cracking just slightly. "you’ve been through so much, and i... i couldn’t stay silent any longer."

tears welled in your eyes as you took a step closer, your hand reaching out instinctively. he didn’t pull away, but you hesitated, your fingers hovering just above his. "this doesn’t feel real," you murmured.

"but it is," he assured you, his voice firm yet gentle. "i’ll be here as long as you need me, whether you see me or not."

the dream began to blur around the edges, the mist creeping back in. "wait," you pleaded, your voice tinged with desperation. "will i see you again?"

felix smiled softly, his golden hair shimmering in the fading light. "always."

and then he was gone, leaving only his signature scent and the lingering warmth of his presence behind as you woke, tears still fresh on your cheeks. 

“you did what?” hyunjin asked felix, surprise evident on his expression. felix bit the inside of his cheek before he quietly repeated himself. “i.. visited her in her dream.” he mumbled. 

hyunjin stared at felix, his eyes wide as he leaned against the railing of their astral plane. the soft glow of their surroundings illuminated the disbelief on his face. "you visited her in her dream," he repeated slowly, as if trying to process the gravity of felix's words.

felix nodded, looking away. "i couldn’t just watch her suffer anymore. she needed to know she wasn’t alone."

hyunjin ran a hand through his dark hair, letting out a sharp exhale. "do you have any idea how reckless that was? visiting the living in their dreams might not be as bad as full manifestation, but it’s still breaking the rules."

felix’s gaze hardened, his usual softness replaced with a rare defiance. "i don’t care about the rules anymore, hyunjin. they don’t help her. she’s falling apart, and i can’t just stand by and do nothing."

hyunjin crossed his arms, his expression shifting from surprise to concern. "i get it, felix, i do. but you’ve been walking a thin line for a while now. leaving roses, lingering in her presence... do you really think the higher-ups won’t notice?"

felix clenched his fists at his sides. "let them notice. let them punish me if they want. but i won’t regret it. not for her."

hyunjin softened at felix's conviction, his features losing their edge. "you really care about her, don’t you?"

felix’s eyes glistened as he nodded. "more than anything. she’s been through so much, hyunjin. no one deserves that kind of pain. if i can be the one thing that brings her some comfort, i’ll take any punishment that comes my way."

hyunjin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "you’re not going to stop, are you?"

"no," felix said firmly, his voice steady despite the weight of his words.

there was a moment of silence as hyunjin studied his friend, his lips pressed into a thin line. finally, he relented with a small shake of his head. "alright. if you’re going to keep doing this, at least let me help you cover your tracks. if they find out what you’re doing, it won’t just be a slap on the wrist, felix. it’ll be exile—or worse."

felix’s eyes widened in surprise, gratitude quickly replacing the shock. "hyunjin, you don’t have to—"

"i know i don’t have to," hyunjin interrupted, his tone sharp. "but you’re my friend, and i’m not about to let you face this alone."

felix smiled faintly, the weight on his shoulders feeling just a little lighter. "thank you."

hyunjin sighed again, this time with a hint of exasperation. "don’t thank me yet. i’m not sure what kind of mess we’re getting into, but i have a feeling it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better."

felix’s smile didn’t waver. "it’ll be worth it."

hyunjin shook his head with a wry smile, muttering under his breath. "you’re hopeless."

but despite his grumbling, he didn’t leave felix’s side. if felix was going to fight for you, hyunjin would make sure he didn’t do it alone.

the dreams for the next few nights unfolded as they always had—flickers of unspoken moments and hazy images that faded like sand slipping through your fingers. but this night was different.

the air around you shifted as the dream took form. you were no longer in a familiar place but somewhere entirely foreign and breathtaking. marble floors stretched endlessly beneath your bare feet, their white, polished surface reflecting soft, golden light from above. the room seemed to glow, not harshly, but with a serene brightness that made you feel weightless.

and then there was the scent—vanilla, rich and warm, filling the air like an embrace. it washed over you, soothing every frayed nerve and quieting the lingering chaos in your mind.

before you could fully process the setting, he appeared.

felix stepped out of the light as though it had created him, his form entirely whole this time. his white tunic draped elegantly over his lean frame, the fabric flowing as if it were alive. his blonde hair, wavy and radiant, seemed to catch the ambient glow, each strand moving with an ethereal lightness. but it was his face—those delicate features, framed by a constellation of freckles, and eyes that held galaxies—that truly caught your breath.

you couldn’t look away.

the space between you and felix was vast, yet he began to close the distance, his steps slow and deliberate, as though each one was meant to reassure you. his gaze, warm and unwavering, never left yours.

your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a mix of confusion, awe, and an unexplainable comfort. "you’re back," you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a strange relief.

felix’s lips curved into a gentle smile, and as he stopped a few feet away, his presence felt like the missing piece of a puzzle you hadn’t realized you were trying to solve.

"i promised i would be," he said softly, his voice carrying the same calming warmth as the vanilla in the air.

the marble beneath your feet felt cool, grounding you as you tried to steady your breathing. "where are we? what is this place?"

felix glanced around, his expression serene yet thoughtful. "a reflection of the in-between. it’s not quite your world, not quite mine."

you frowned slightly, tilting your head. "why are we here?"

his gaze softened further, and he took another cautious step toward you, his hands loosely clasped in front of him. "because. i needed to see you again."

your breath hitched, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the dreamlike quality of the moment. "this feels... so real," you murmured, reaching out instinctively, though you stopped short of touching him.

"it is," felix replied, his voice a quiet assurance. "as real as it can be."

you hesitated for a moment, staring at his outstretched hand. it was so close, yet it felt like reaching for something impossibly distant. your heart raced as you extended your trembling hand toward him once more.

“can i... touch you?” you asked again, your voice quieter this time, as if afraid he might vanish if you spoke too loudly.

felix’s expression softened further, his lips curving into a smile so warm it felt like sunlight breaking through a storm. “you can,” he said, his voice gentle, almost reverent.

you reached out, and when your fingers met his, a jolt of warmth spread through you like ripples in still water. his skin wasn’t just soft—it was otherworldly, as if every molecule hummed with energy, radiating life and something deeper, something unnameable.

you gasped softly at the sensation, your fingertips brushing along the back of his hand. “it’s like… you’re made of light,” you murmured, your voice filled with awe.

felix chuckled softly, the sound low and soothing. “in a way, i suppose i am,” he replied, his thumb lightly brushing against your knuckles. “but what matters is that i’m here. with you.”

the weight of his words hit you, and your breath caught in your throat. you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for answers. “why are you doing this?”

his expression became more serious, though his touch remained tender. “because you deserve to feel loved, to feel cared for. you’ve been carrying so much for so long, and i couldn’t stand to see you bear it alone.”

your lips quivered, and tears began to well in your eyes. you fought them back, but the sheer kindness in his words made it impossible. “i don’t understand,” you whispered, shaking your head slightly. “why me? i’m nobody special.”

felix’s dark eyes softened even further, and he took a small step closer, his presence as overwhelming as it was comforting. “you are special,” he said firmly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “you’ve survived so much, endured what most wouldn’t. you have a strength you don’t even realize.”

the tears spilled over then, and he reached out to gently brush them away, his touch featherlight. “you don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he said, his voice a vow. “i’m here. for as long as you’ll let me be.”

you stared at him, your heart swelling with emotions you hadn’t felt in years. gratitude. hope. maybe even something more.

but before you could speak, the dream began to shift, the bright marble surroundings fading into soft mist. you panicked, reaching for him as the world around you dissolved.

“felix, wait—don’t go!” you cried, desperation in your voice.

he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made the fading dream still for a moment. “i’m never far,” he promised, his voice steady and unshakable. “call for me, and i’ll come.”

and then he was gone.  you woke up clutching your hand to your chest, as if trying to hold onto the feeling of him for just a little longer.

the memory of his words and his touch stayed with you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—things could get better.

you found yourself spending more and more time with felix in your dreams, sharing conversations that ranged from the mundane to the profound. each night felt like peeling back another layer of his essence, and the bond between you deepened in ways you never imagined possible. he spoke to you with a sincerity that left you feeling safe and cherished, sharing stories of his watchful presence over the years, recounting moments when he had intervened in unseen ways to keep you safe. the weight of knowing just how much he had done for you was both humbling and overwhelming.

the concept of a guardian angel was still difficult for you to wrap your mind around—an ethereal being solely dedicated to protecting you. but even harder to believe was the fact that felix was yours. all yours.

felix never outright told you how much he cared for you, though you began to sense it in the way his gaze lingered, in the warmth of his words, and in the gentle way he reached out to comfort you. he held himself back, aware of your past pain, and was careful to move at a pace that respected your healing. he wanted to be patient, to give you all the time you needed, even as his feelings for you grew with each passing moment.

what he didn’t know was that you were falling for him just as quickly. the connection between you felt as natural as breathing, as though the universe itself had woven your fates together. the once-dreamlike visits began to feel more vivid and tangible, as if the line between the dream world and reality was slowly blurring.

by the time a month had passed, seeing him each night had become as natural as the sun setting. you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment you would drift off to sleep, knowing he would be there waiting for you, his presence offering you a kind of solace you hadn’t felt in years. it was no longer just a dream; it was a sanctuary. a place where you could be yourself, free from judgment, and bask in the warmth of someone who truly cared.

of course, it didn’t last. how could it? luck had never been on your side, and this fleeting comfort seemed no different. without warning, felix was gone. the dreams you once eagerly anticipated were now nothing but empty darkness, leaving you tossing and turning in your bed, haunted by the void his absence created. you replayed your last conversation over and over in your mind, searching for any clue, any indication of what might have gone wrong. everything had seemed so normal—he was attentive, warm, and genuinely happy to be with you. there was no sign that anything was amiss.

the silence left you with nothing but questions. had you said something to offend him? had he grown tired of you? the thought gnawed at you, stirring feelings of abandonment and self-doubt. yet, what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was that felix hadn’t chosen to leave. felix had gotten into trouble. big trouble.

far away from the sanctuary of your dreams, felix stood before the higher celestial realms, his head bowed in silent shame. the luminous expanse was unlike anything mortal eyes could comprehend—a vast court of blinding light, with entities of immeasurable power seated upon towering thrones of radiant energy. their voices were neither spoken nor heard but resonated directly within his being, each word a vibration that seemed to shake the very fabric of his existence.

“you have broken our most sacred laws, felix,” the central figure intoned, its voice a perfect balance of wrath and sorrow. “angels are not to reveal themselves to the living. and yet, you have not only shown yourself—you have formed a connection.”

felix clenched his fists at his sides, his golden head still lowered. “i couldn’t stand by and watch her suffer anymore,” he admitted, his voice steady despite the gravity of his situation. “she needed me. she needed someone.”

the entity’s light flared brighter, casting long shadows that seemed to pull at felix’s very essence. “your intentions may have been pure, but your actions were reckless. you risked exposing our realm to the mortal plane and disrupted the natural order.”

another voice, colder and sharper, chimed in. “you allowed emotion to cloud your duty. this is not love; it is folly. and now, you must face the consequences of your defiance.”

felix finally lifted his head, his freckled face set with quiet determination. “if loving her is a crime, then i will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary. but i don’t regret what i’ve done. she was alone in a way no one should ever have to be.”

the celestial beings exchanged glances, their forms shifting and flickering with the intensity of their deliberation. finally, the central figure spoke again, its tone heavy with finality. “felix, you are hereby stripped of your ability to interact with her. you will be confined to the astral plane, unable to enter her dreams or manifest in her presence. should you attempt to defy this order, the consequences will be irrevocable.”

the words struck him like a physical blow, and felix staggered, his heart aching with the weight of his punishment. to be kept away from you, to be forced to watch your pain from a distance without being able to comfort you—yet again–it was torment.

but there was nothing he could do. with a final flash of light, the court dissolved, and felix was left alone in the vast, endless expanse of the astral plane, his physical connection to you severed.

back in your world, you sat on your bed, staring at the clock as tears streamed down your face. the weight of his absence was unbearable, a silent ache that pressed against your chest. you whispered his name into the dark, hoping against hope that he could hear you, not knowing that he was out there, whispering your name too.

felix could still watch over you, still fulfill his celestial duties to keep you safe, but it wasn’t the same. something had shifted—an invisible barrier now confined him to the most basic of his responsibilities. no longer could he visit your dreams or stand by your side as you slept, even if you couldn’t see him. it tore at him. every part of him yearned to return, to let you know he was still there, to reassure you in the way only he could.

he could feel the ache of your unanswered questions, the way you were consumed by his sudden absence. you were falling deeper into a loneliness that clawed at your soul, a loneliness that made his punishment feel like a knife twisting in his chest. he knew you were hurting in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time, and the knowledge that he was the cause—however unintended—made it all the more unbearable.

winter came, and with it, you began to fade. the heavy, suffocating emptiness seeped back into your life, wrapping itself around you like a cold, unrelenting fog. your appetite vanished, and the simplest tasks became insurmountable. you stopped answering texts, ignoring calls from friends you hadn’t spoken to in weeks—some in months. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

nothing mattered anymore because nothing could fill the void felix had left. you tried, briefly, to shake the feeling, but no one could make you feel the way he did. felix had ruined you for anyone else, his presence so uniquely comforting and irreplaceable that his absence felt like a gaping wound.

felix watched helplessly, his golden light dimmer than it had ever been. he saw the way your energy drained, the light in your eyes fading. he knew he was the one thing that could pull you out of this darkness, and yet, he was forbidden from reaching you. he spent countless moments wrestling with his own helplessness, the longing to be with you tearing him apart.

in the nights that followed, as you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling with tear-streaked cheeks, he whispered your name softly into the void, desperate for you to hear, even if he knew it was impossible. all he could do was hope.

the dark feelings were relentless, clawing at the edges of your mind, whispering venomous lies that you couldn’t escape. for months, they lingered, festering in the absence of light. no friends, no family, no felix—just you and the unyielding barrage of your thoughts. you had tried to fight it, to push forward, but the weight of it all was suffocating.

one cold winter night, as the world outside lay silent under a blanket of snow, you sat at the edge of your bed, staring at the empty room around you. the loneliness felt louder than any noise could. enough was enough, you thought. the hollow ache in your chest felt unbearable, and you saw no way out.

you grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, your hands trembling as you began to write. words spilled out, raw and unfiltered—apologies to those you thought might care, explanations for your decision, and an overwhelming sense of defeat. the letter wasn’t long; it didn’t need to be. when you finished, you folded it neatly and placed it on your nightstand.

the pills sat in the cabinet for months, untouched but always there. you retrieved them now, your breath shaky as you poured them into your palm. one by one, they gleamed under the dim light of your bedside lamp, little capsules of finality. you clutched them tightly, tears slipping down your face, mingling with the numbness that had overtaken you.

but just as you raised your hand, the room shifted. the light flickered, a sudden gust of vanilla-scented air brushing against your skin. it was so sudden and so familiar that your hand froze. the bottle slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor, pills scattering across the wooden boards.

and then you saw him.

felix stood before you, his form shimmering like an ethereal beacon against the darkness. his golden hair glowed faintly, his freckled face etched with desperation and anguish. he looked at you, and for a moment, you could see the pain in his eyes—a reflection of your own.

“don’t,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “please don’t.”

your breath hitched as you stared at him, unsure if he was real or just another cruel trick of your mind. “you… you left me,” you choked out, tears streaming freely now. “i thought you were gone forever.”

“i didn’t want to go,” felix said, stepping closer, his presence radiating warmth. “they made me. but i couldn’t stay away anymore. i  can’t lose you.”

you felt his hands, warm and soft, cupping your trembling ones. the faint buzz of energy that accompanied his touch was a reminder of the bond you shared. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with guilt. “i failed you.”

“no,” you whispered, shaking your head. “you didn’t. i just… i can’t do this anymore, felix. i can’t keep feeling like this.”

“you’re not alone,” he said firmly, his golden eyes locking onto yours. “you never were, and you never will be. i’ll fight for you, even if it costs me everything. but you have to promise me something.”

“what?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“promise me you’ll hold on,” he said, his hands tightening slightly around yours. “even when it’s hard, even when it feels impossible. i’ll be here. i’ll always find a way to be here.” 

the intensity of his words wrapped around you like a lifeline. for the first time in months, a glimmer of hope pierced through the suffocating darkness. you nodded, tears spilling as you whispered, “i promise.” felix pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and grounding. for a moment, time stood still, and the only thing that mattered was that he was here.

felix’s comfort only lasted a fleeting moment. his golden eyes, filled with relief as he cradled your face, suddenly clouded with pain. his expression twisted, and with a sharp intake of breath, he dropped to his knees beside your bed. his hands clutched at his chest as if trying to hold something unseen together, his gasps turning into strangled cries.

"felix?" you called out, panic lacing your voice as you knelt beside him, your hand pressing firmly against his trembling shoulder. the warmth of his skin beneath your touch felt fleeting, fragile, like it was slipping away. "what’s happening? tell me!"

he tried to speak, his lips parting, but no words came. instead, he groaned, his body convulsing slightly as though an unbearable weight pressed down on him. his anguish was palpable, his gasps ragged and labored, his entire form shuddering under some invisible force.

then, a sound—a haunting, visceral snap—echoed in the air, like the ripping of fabric mixed with the grotesque crunch of bone. felix’s head shot back, and he let out a heart-wrenching wail that cut through the room like a blade. his back arched unnaturally, his hands clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something that was no longer there.

you froze, horrified, as the source of his agony became clear. through the thin white cloth of his shirt, you saw it—two jagged, open wounds on his back, seeping blood that shouldn’t have existed. the fabric clung to the injuries, staining crimson as the bleeding continued.

"felix, what’s happening?!" you cried, your voice trembling as your heart raced wildly in your chest. you tried to steady him, your hands gripping his shoulders, but he flinched, his body recoiling from the touch like it burned.

he groaned again, his voice hoarse and broken. his glowing, ethereal presence dimmed before your eyes, his radiant skin now pallid and sallow. the faint hum of electricity you always felt when you touched him—gone. even the scent of vanilla, so comforting and familiar, seemed to fade, replaced by the metallic tang of blood.

his breathing was ragged, shallow, and his entire form quivered with agony. "no... no..." he muttered weakly, his voice barely a whisper.

"felix," you choked out, your tears blurring your vision. you pressed your hands to his face, your touch desperate. "please, what’s happening to you? tell me what to do!"

he looked at you then, his eyes swimming with sorrow and pain so profound it felt as if it might shatter you. his voice was barely audible, cracked and broken as he rasped, "they’ve... taken it... everything. my wings... my grace..."

your breath hitched, your mind reeling as the realization dawned on you. felix wasn’t just in pain—he had been exiled. stripped of his celestial essence, cast down to a mortal existence for breaking the sacred laws he once upheld.

tears streamed down your face as you tried to support his trembling body, your heart breaking at the sight of him so vulnerable, so human. "you’re bleeding," you whispered, your voice trembling as you pressed your hands against his back in a futile attempt to stem the flow.

"it doesn’t matter," he said, his words slurred with exhaustion. "i... i couldn’t stay away. i knew this would happen, but i couldn’t leave you... not like that."

the weight of his sacrifice hit you like a tidal wave, and you sobbed openly, clutching him tightly as he collapsed against you. felix’s breaths were shallow, his body heavy and weak as he leaned into your embrace.

"you shouldn’t have done this," you murmured, your voice cracking with guilt and despair.

"i had to," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "i love you.." 

felix’s whispered confession hung in the air like a fragile thread, his words trembling with vulnerability. his golden eyes, dulled by exhaustion, searched yours for a reaction. the weight of his love—of everything he had given up—pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

"i love you," he repeated, stronger this time, as if saying it louder could convince you of its truth. his hand, trembling but resolute, reached up to touch your cheek, his thumb brushing away your tears. "i’ve loved you for so long... even before you knew i existed. watching over you, seeing your pain, your strength... i couldn’t stand to just watch anymore. i couldn’t lose you."

tears streamed down your face as you cupped his face, his skin warm beneath your palms but lacking the celestial glow you’d once marveled at. "felix," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "you gave up everything for me. how could i ever be worth that?"

his lips curled into a faint, pained smile. "you’ve always been worth it. you’re worth every punishment, every scar, every moment of this mortal life. i would do it all over again just to see you safe, just to be with you."

you shook your head, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words. "i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you."

"yes, you do," he countered, his voice steady despite the exhaustion weighing him down. "you deserve to be loved, truly loved, in a way that heals instead of hurts. and if i’m the one who can give that to you, then i’ll bear whatever it takes."

his words cracked something open inside you—a dam you’d been holding back for so long. the love you felt for him, so deep and consuming, poured out all at once. "felix, i love you too," you confessed, your voice trembling. "i’ve been so scared to admit it, even to myself, but i do. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone."

felix’s eyes widened, glistening with tears of his own, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. his arms, though weak, wrapped around you tightly, pulling you into a desperate embrace. "you don’t know how much it means to hear you say that," he murmured against your hair.

you clung to him, your heart aching with both love and fear. "but what happens now? you’ve already lost so much because of me."

felix pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression resolute despite the pain etched into his features. "we’ll figure it out together," he promised. "no matter what comes next, i’m not leaving your side. not now, not ever."

his words were a lifeline, a tether to hope in the storm of uncertainty surrounding you. 

as felix’s promise lingered in the air, his golden eyes searched yours with such intensity that it felt as though time had momentarily stopped. despite the anguish and exhaustion etched into his features, there was an undeniable pull between the two of you—something raw, something unspoken.

your fingers instinctively moved to his face, brushing back the damp strands of hair that clung to his forehead. he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as if savoring the simple intimacy of it.

"felix," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "you're all i have."

his gaze snapped back to yours, filled with equal parts tenderness and desperation. "and you're everything i’ve ever wanted."

before you could reply, felix closed the distance between you. his lips met yours in a kiss so gentle it felt like it could break with the wrong move. there was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the unyielding truth of your shared emotions spilling into each other.

his kiss deepened as his trembling hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, as though he feared you might slip away if he let go. you felt the warmth of him, even in his weakened state, and the love he poured into that single moment overwhelmed you.

your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as the kiss turned more urgent. the pain, the fear, the heartbreak—they all melted away, leaving only the two of you and the fire igniting between you.

felix broke the kiss briefly, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. "i can’t lose you," he murmured, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "not again. never again."

"you won’t," you promised, your voice steady despite the tears still streaming down your face. "i’m here. i’m not going anywhere."

as if reassured by your words, felix pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again with renewed fervor. his kisses were desperate yet tender, an unspoken apology for the pain you’d endured and a silent vow to never let you feel that way again.

something inside felix had snapped. whatever holy laws that prevented him from feeling this primal, sinful desire for you, they were long gone. something about kissing your lips, tasting you, drinking you in.. drove him into high gear. his hands were never ending in their exploration of your skin, roaming your body under your clothes. soft hums of appreciation left his lips as they danced hungrily against yours. 

his love and affections for you were obvious.. but this instantly grew beyond an emotional depth, and he wanted to claim you. in this instant, it was more than wanting to care for you emotionally. he longed to satisfy your every desire, offering you the most exquisite sensations a human could experience. he wanted to give you even the slightest taste of heaven, even if he was no longer an angel. 

his injuries and newfound pain were at the back of his mind–his main focus was you. finally, it was you. 

your hands slid up his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held onto you like you were his lifeline. his body was warm, his presence grounding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the crushing weight of your loneliness lifted.

the heat between you grew, felix’s touch becoming bolder as he brushed his hands down your sides, hesitant yet yearning. you felt his fingers tremble slightly, a reminder of his fragile state, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he held you tighter, pressing kisses along your jawline and down to the curve of your neck.

"felix," you whispered, your voice catching as his lips lingered on your skin.

he paused, his breath warm against your collarbone as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. his eyes were filled with love, devotion, and a vulnerability that took your breath away. "tell me if this is too much," he said softly, his voice hoarse but steady.

"it’s not," you replied, your own voice trembling. "but.. your back. you’re hurt."

felix’s lips quirked into a faint smile, his golden eyes softening even as his hands remained firmly on your waist. “don’t worry about me,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “this… what i’m feeling right now, being here with you… it’s worth any pain. i’m fine.”

you searched his face, uncertain, your fingertips brushing over his cheek. the warmth of his skin, the sincerity in his gaze, soothed your lingering doubts. “but felix—”

“i want this,” he interrupted gently, his voice carrying a rare firmness. his hands slid up your sides, steady despite their earlier trembling, until they rested just below your ribs. “i want you. i’ve wanted you for so long, and now that i have you here, i’m not going to let anything take me away from you again.”

your heart clenched at the conviction in his words. the love in his gaze was overpowering, a force you couldn’t fight against even if you wanted to. “you’re sure?” you asked softly, needing his confirmation, your fingers brushing through his disheveled hair.

he exhaled shakily, leaning his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own. “i’m more sure of this than i’ve been of anything in my existence. i’ve spent so long watching over you, loving you from afar. i don’t want to hold back anymore.”

felix tilted your chin gently, capturing your lips in a kiss that felt different from before. it wasn’t just hungry or desperate—it was tender, deliberate, filled with a quiet intensity that made your knees weak. his hands moved down, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, as though he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling trail that made your breath hitch. he paused again, his voice barely above a whisper. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he said, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

you shook your head, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling within you. “i don’t want you to stop, felix. i want you.”

at your words, felix released a shaky breath, his lips curling into a soft, relieved smile that sent a shiver down your spine. slowly, with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment, he grasped the hem of your shirt and began to lift it. the fabric slid over your skin with ease, leaving your stomach exposed to the cool air, and you felt your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.

you raised your arms, allowing him to remove the shirt entirely. the loss of its warmth left goosebumps in its wake, your skin tingling from the sudden exposure. felix’s gaze dropped, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate, his golden eyes darkening with something primal, something raw. his breath hitched as his gaze lingered on your bare skin, your braless chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. the chill of the room had already peaked your nipples, and the sight seemed to unravel him further.

a low, guttural sound escaped him, almost like a growl, as he leaned in. his lips brushed against the center of your chest, pressing soft, reverent kisses that made your breath catch. each touch was deliberate, tender, and filled with a worshipful intensity that made your mind spin.

his lips moved slowly, leaving warm trails across your skin as he kissed the delicate curve of one breast, then the other, lingering as though savoring every moment. the sensation sent jolts of heat coursing through your body, your chest heaving under his touch. felix took his time, his lips and hands mapping the contours of your body with a devotion that left you trembling.

your thoughts were a hazy blur, consumed by the realization of how intimate this moment was. felix—the celestial being who had once been tasked with shielding you from harm, who had watched over you like a guardian star—was now here, touching you in ways that felt both sinful and sacred. 

his hands, his lips, his every movement felt as though they belonged there, as if this connection between you was meant to be all along. the contrast of what he once was and who he was now only deepened the intensity of the moment. 

“i want to see more of you,” felix murmured, his voice low and thick with longing. his hand cupped the underside of your breast, his touch reverent, almost trembling. you met his gaze, your heart fluttering at the vulnerability in his eyes, and nodded slowly, offering him a soft smile.

standing, you reached for the knot on your pajama pants, untying it with shaky hands. felix’s eyes never left you, his gaze intense, watching every movement as if memorizing it. meanwhile, he began unbuttoning his pristine white shirt, the fabric catching slightly against his trembling fingers.

when the shirt finally slipped from his shoulders, you caught your breath. his honey-toned skin glowed faintly under the dim light, a stark contrast to the jagged wounds on his back and the fading bruises across his neck. he winced, a hiss escaping his lips as the shirt grazed the sensitive injuries, but the pain seemed to dissipate the moment his eyes landed on you.

you’d reclined on the bed, your pajama pants now discarded, leaving you in only your underwear. the soft light kissed your skin, highlighting every curve, and felix froze, his heart racing so wildly he thought it might burst.

he moved closer, his hands steady despite the overwhelming emotions coursing through him. leaning down, he pressed a kiss to each of your bent knees, his lips warm and tender against your skin. his hands trailed down your thighs, his fingertips grazing your soft flesh with a featherlight touch, as if afraid he might break you.

“felix?” you spoke, your voice shy and a little hoarse from the intensity of the moment.

“yes, my love?” he murmured, his tone soothing and steady, even as his lips brushed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“how do you…” you hesitated, your cheeks burning as your voice dropped lower, “know what to do? i thought angels couldn’t—”

felix chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. his hands continued their slow, adoring exploration of your skin, his lips hovering just above your thigh. “you’re right,” he said, his voice rich with affection. “angels don’t… but i’ve watched humans for centuries. seen their moments of love, of passion. i may not have experienced it before, but the thought of touching you, of being with you like this…” he paused, lifting his gaze to yours, his golden eyes filled with unwavering devotion. “it’s instinctual. it’s like i was made to know how to love you.”

his words sent a shiver through you, your chest tightening at the raw honesty in his voice. “felix…” you whispered, your hands reaching to cradle his face, your thumb brushing his cheek.

he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly before he pressed a kiss to your palm. “if i’m clumsy or unsure,” he continued, his voice soft, “just tell me. guide me. all i want is to make you feel cherished, loved... whole.”

your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, sitting up a bit to press your lips to his. “you’re doing everything right,” you assured him, your voice trembling with both nervousness and excitement.

felix’s lips curved into a soft smile against yours before he deepened the kiss, his touch growing more confident as his hands slid back to your thighs. his movements were reverent, as though worshiping every curve of your body. slowly, he shifted above you, breaking the kiss for a moment to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with both tenderness and longing.

one hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers brushing over your mound through the thin fabric of your panties. his golden eyes flickered down to watch his hand, but they quickly returned to your face, searching for your reaction. he pressed down with a little more pressure, the motion drawing a soft gasp from your lips. the sound sent a thrill through him, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

felix’s movements became more deliberate, his fingers creating a gentle rhythm as they teased you through the fabric. your hips instinctively rose to meet his touch, grinding against his hand as he followed your lead. the warmth of his palm, the delicate friction, sent sparks of pleasure racing through you.

“can i feel you... underneath?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and desire. a faint blush dusted his cheeks, a charming reminder of his inexperience.

you reached up, threading your fingers through his tousled hair, offering him a reassuring smile. “yes, that’s okay,” you whispered.

he nodded, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss before his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. both of your breaths hitched simultaneously as his fingers met your slick heat. the intimacy of the moment made your cheeks flush with warmth, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

felix’s fingers explored you slowly, his movements careful but curious, as though memorizing every contour of your most sensitive place. when he brushed his middle finger against your clit, a moan escaped your lips, your hips jerking slightly in response. the sound sent a jolt through him, his arousal growing, the evidence of his desire pressing against the confines of his pants.

he began to circle your clit, experimenting with pressure and rhythm, his focus entirely on your reactions. every gasp, moan, and shudder guided him, and the connection between you deepened with each passing moment. your breaths became ragged, your body arching into his touch as he expertly worked you closer to the edge.

“felix, i’m gonna... oh my g-god!” you stammered, your voice breaking as waves of pleasure built within you.

he leaned down, pressing kisses to your jaw and neck, his voice low and soothing. “it’s okay, love. let go for me,” he murmured, his words like a lifeline pulling you into bliss.

your orgasm hit with devastating intensity, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over you. your legs shook uncontrollably, your nails digging into his forearm as you cried out, your voice cracking with the force of your release. felix watched you with awe, his heart swelling with pride as he took in the sight of you—your back arching off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your entire form glowing with pleasure.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his chest tightening at the sight of you undone beneath him. the sheer intensity of your release and the knowledge that he had brought you to this point sent a surge of arousal through him, his own need nearly overwhelming.

as you descended from the peak of your bliss, your chest heaving with each breath, felix leaned in to press a delicate kiss to your temple. his touch was gentle, almost reverent, as his fingers softly brushed a strand of hair from your flushed face. “are you okay, my love?” he asked, his voice low and tender, full of concern.

you nodded, your lips curling into a shy, dazed smile. “mhm… that was… really good,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

a soft chuckle escaped felix’s lips as he carefully withdrew his hand from your panties, his golden gaze dropping to the slick coating his fingers. without hesitation, he brought the digits to his mouth, his lips parting as he sucked them clean with an experimental slowness. his eyes fluttered shut briefly, and when they reopened, they glimmered with darkened desire.

“you taste divine, y/n,” he murmured, his voice rich with admiration and unrestrained hunger.

your cheeks flamed at the sight of him savoring you, but your attention shifted to the noticeable bulge straining against his pants. the sight sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and when your gaze returned to his face, you found him already watching you. his eyes were soft yet filled with a pleading sort of anticipation, his vulnerability laid bare.

“can i…?” you asked cautiously, your hand lightly pressing against the outline of his arousal.

felix’s breath hitched at your touch, his expression briefly contorting, not in discomfort but in a momentary overwhelm at the unfamiliar sensation. “y-yes,” he stammered, his voice shaky. “but… be gentle, please?”

“of course,” you assured him, offering a comforting smile as you carefully guided him to lie back. “just relax. don’t worry about the sheets.”

he followed your guidance, grunting softly as he adjusted his position. though the movement aggravated his healing wounds, felix bit back any complaints, his focus entirely on you. how could he not, when you knelt before him, bare and beautiful, your hands already working to free him from his remaining clothes?

as you tugged his pants down, his erection sprang free, slapping against his toned stomach. you couldn’t help but admire him—his length was flushed a deep pink, the prominent head peeking shyly beneath the extra skin. he was perfect, and undeniably human in this moment.

you leaned down, pressing soft, deliberate kisses along the base of his shaft, your lips trailing up the warm skin. felix’s breathing grew uneven, his golden eyes flickering down to watch you, though he struggled to hold your gaze. his cheeks were painted with a faint blush, his flustered expression only adding to his allure.

“you’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with awe.

felix’s lips parted as if to respond, but the words seemed to catch in his throat, replaced by a soft groan as you kissed the underside of his length. your touch was gentle, tender, as though you understood how new and overwhelming this was for him.

“does this feel okay?” you asked softly, your eyes seeking his for reassurance.

felix nodded quickly, his voice catching as he replied, “yes… it feels incredible.”

encouraged by his soft groans and whispered praises, you continued your delicate exploration, your lips and hands moving with care and devotion. felix’s chest rose and fell in a rhythm that matched the tremors of his breath, his hands clutching the sheets tightly as if anchoring himself to reality.

when your lips wrapped around his length, his entire body jerked slightly in response, a low groan escaping his parted lips. the sound was raw, unrestrained, and it sent a surge of confidence through you. you moved slowly, your mouth warm and wet as you took him deeper, your tongue teasing the sensitive head with deliberate flicks and swirls. with each motion, you made sure to pull the skin back gently, exposing the most sensitive part of him to your ministrations.

“god, y/n… that’s—” his voice cracked, his words dissolving into a panting moan. his abs flexed involuntarily under your touch, and his head fell back onto the pillow, golden hair splayed like a halo. his hands left the sheets to tangle in your hair, his fingers trembling as they brushed against your scalp, though he didn’t pull or guide—he simply held on as if the pleasure was too much to bear alone.

your pace remained steady, your tongue working magic against him as you hollowed your cheeks to increase the intensity. felix’s reactions were mesmerizing—his breath hitched, his thighs quivered, and his lips parted to let out soft, helpless moans. you could feel his arousal building, his body tightening under your touch.

“a-ah… wait!” he suddenly cried out, his voice desperate as his hips tensed.

alarmed, you pulled off immediately, his length slipping from your lips with a wet pop. “felix? did i hurt you?” you asked, your voice laced with concern, your eyes searching his flushed face for any sign of discomfort.

he shook his head quickly, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “n-no, love,” he managed, his voice shaky but reassuring. “you didn’t hurt me. i just… i was getting close, and i… i didn’t want it to end so soon.” his golden eyes, filled with vulnerability and desire, met yours, and he offered a soft, apologetic smile. “i want to feel more with you. all of you.”

his words sent a new wave of warmth through your body, and you leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “it’s okay, felix,” you murmured against his mouth, your tone soothing. “we’ll go at your pace. i just want to make you feel good.”

felix’s breath hitched as he let out a shaky laugh, his hands cradling your face with a tenderness that seemed almost at odds with the raw desire in his eyes. his golden gaze searched yours as though looking for permission to continue. “you already make me feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “but… please, i need to feel you completely. let me… let me be inside you.”

the desperation in his plea made your heart skip a beat, his need evident in the way his length twitched against your skin. “are you sure?” you asked softly, your voice laced with caution and care.

“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” felix replied fervently, his hands trembling slightly as they traced down your sides. before you could say another word, he gently guided you onto your back, his movements deliberate but brimming with urgency.

he tugged at the fabric of your panties, slipping them down and casting them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. the sight of you bare beneath him seemed to stoke his desire even further, his lips crashing into yours with newfound hunger. his knees parted your thighs a little more, positioning himself between them as he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring yours with a fervor that left you breathless.

your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. the anticipation was electric, your body taut with expectation. felix pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his hand guiding his aching length to your entrance. “if you need me to stop, just say the word, okay?” he whispered, his tone full of care despite the tension in his voice.

you nodded, biting your lip as your head sank into the pillow, bracing yourself for the moment you had both been yearning for. slowly, felix began to push inside you, his hips trembling as he sank into your warmth. the sensation overwhelmed him instantly—your tight heat surrounding him in a way that made his breath falter and a shudder rack his body.

a gasp escaped your lips as he slid all the way in with one smooth motion, the stretch both surprising and exhilarating. felix braced himself on his forearms, his face hovering just above yours. his eyes fluttered shut, and a whimper escaped his lips as he struggled to stay composed. “god… so tight…,” he muttered, his voice strained as he adjusted to the sensation.

for a moment, he stilled, giving you both a chance to adjust. his gaze returned to yours, full of concern and adoration. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

“y-yeah,” you managed, your voice breathy. “you can move.”

felix exhaled a deep breath and began to roll his hips, starting with a moderate pace. his movements were tentative at first, his eyes fixed on your expression to ensure you were comfortable. but as your gasps turned to soft moans, his confidence grew.

the friction was maddening, his steady rhythm sending waves of pleasure through both your bodies. each thrust drew a mix of grunts and whimpers from felix, his forehead resting against yours as he poured his entire being into every movement. “you feel… so good,” he groaned, his voice shaky with restraint.

your hands found purchase on his back, being cautious of his wounds. your fingers dug into the taut muscles as his pace began to quicken. the pressure was building, both of you lost in the connection that felt as much emotional as it was physical. “felix…” you moaned his name, your legs tightening around his waist as his hips snapped against yours with increasing fervor.

his breathing became erratic, his pace growing desperate as he chased his release. “y/n… i can’t…” he gasped, his body trembling with the effort to hold back.

“it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice tender and encouraging. “let go, felix.”

with a strangled cry, felix buried himself as deeply as he could, his entire body shuddering as his climax overtook him. his hips stilled, pressing tightly against yours as warmth filled you, his groans muffled against your neck as he clung to you like you were his lifeline.

for a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your mingled breaths, the quiet intimacy of the moment enveloping you both. felix finally lifted his head, his flushed face framed by his damp hair, and his eyes met yours with a look of pure devotion. “i love you,” he whispered, the words filled with awe.

your heart swelled, and you reached up to cradle his face. “i love you too, felix.”

as the two of you lay entwined in the quiet aftermath, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the warmth of his body against yours and the steady rhythm of his breathing. felix’s fingers lazily traced patterns on your skin, his touch grounding and tender. there was a newfound softness in his gaze as he looked at you, a vulnerability that mirrored your own. whatever boundaries had once kept him from you—divine laws, celestial duties, or his own insecurities—had crumbled completely, leaving behind a love that was raw, human, and boundless. in that moment, as you rested your head against his chest, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat, you both understood that this was where you belonged: together, in a love that defied heaven and earth.

©chansdoll do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[kugikizuchi]

"The doctor and his devoted assistant."♡

Warnings: I decided to make it so that the character in our story is not the main character in the game, two different personalities. Our character is a girl. This is done for convenience. Yandere. Partial Stockholm syndrome. Obscenity towards a young female employee. Sexual pressure. Slight compulsion. Excitement games. A vibrator. A weak current through the body. Binding. The girl's submission to the doctor. Murder and brutality. The orange text is Harley's words, the pink text is your words. English is not my native language, I'm sorry for any mistakes!

Volume : 8,2k. Sorry, I overdid it.

Have fun reading! 🐉

"Everything has to be perfect" - these were the words that were on your mind when you laid out Dr. Sawyer's supplies on the table, finally receiving the position of assistant to such an honorable person in the company. In your eyes, he was the epitome of rigor and perfection. His calm and tired voice could overshadow any fears that you might not be hired for this service, but also make you wake up and jump from his harsh cold tone and rare shouts at employees who did not satisfy his desires.

But you tried so hard to become the perfect employee by literally learning the doctor's daily routine. You were willing to do anything to stay in such a prestigious position at a toy manufacturing company. And unfortunately, Harley Sawyer knew about your fanaticism to prove to your family that you are an independent person.

The first few days were hard. It's even too hard.. Your legs are shaking from constantly wearing heels and running around the floors, but I would like to deliver certain reports to different employees. It annoyed you deep down that you looked like a dog on wheels even to yourself, forced to run back and forth just to earn the impossible trust from the owner. But despite the Doctor's indifferent gaze and the sometimes sarcastic smiles of other employees, you just smiled, brushing off all the problems.

What a pity you didn't see how Sawyer liked that you could barely walk on your already aching legs. It might have given him the motivation to finally give you a reward, but he was giving himself the opportunity to delay the moment to the peak of its accomplishment.

And unfortunately or fortunately, the "Peak Height" was reached after almost half a year of your working shift with this young man. You're tired of being the secretary who was always described in jokes and anecdotes as the boss's girlfriend, who was ready to do anything for his pleasure, descending even into the very niche of debauchery. The way you tried to talk to Harley at first, always saying respectfully, "Dr. Sawyer, please, could we talk a little bit about my work shift and my responsibilities?" You always got a calculating look from under the glasses of the man who filled out the next document for you and his slight manic smile that made you twitch a little. "No, Assistant, I don't have time for idle conversations right now if they have nothing to do with the idea of improving the company. And judging by your words and body gestures, you clearly don't want to talk about the happiness of the company, so please take this document and don't try to disappear for more than 10 minutes. It's just another building. You'll get there fast. "he said it over and over again, while you were biting your tongue in your mouth, so as not to spit out the poison. He never even addressed you by your first name, although it was always written on the badge like all employees, but he took it for a special occasion.

And now your patience was over, you were ready to start swearing if you even needed to turn on your artistry, because it's not just your boss who can pretend to be a second person. But as soon as you crossed the threshold of his office, closing the door behind you, the man seemed to be already ready for this meeting and, without looking up, ordered you to close the door in his usual empty manner. You did so, as if out of habit, which was reflected on the doctor's lips with a smile and a relaxed look, to which you flinched slightly, not knowing how you spoiled him with your obedience. As soon as you got closer to the main figure in this room, your body was pressed against the table, your hips were painfully pressed against the table, and your hands were twisted behind your back, while the second man's hand covered your mouth, preventing you from uttering a whisper or a cry of pleading for help, judging by your frightened darting eyes, while you were trapped between the table and the tall figure. "Don't shout or deny it, the more resistance you put up, the more brute force I'll have to use on you, Assistant. " he was talking and you couldn't understand - your legs were shaking so much from fear because of the current situation or from the discharge of excitement, being in such a precarious position that it was not clear whether you would really quit tomorrow, or remain an obedient assistant.. Unfortunately, you both knew the answer from his calm smile and your heavy breathing when the dialogue began, although no one let you out of the man's strange embrace.

And now you have achieved your goal. Isn't that right? Now you didn't have to run around the floors, rub your feet to the knees and whine to your friends about the idiot boss. No, you didn't even have to wear heels now, because they would only get in the way while you were sitting on the elder's hip, watching his well-honed hand movements with a listless look as he drew another monst- ...toy for children. The silhouette of a huge purple-colored cat loomed while you read its name, sometimes disinterestedly swinging its legs dangling from the edge of the chair. Your hips, waist, and hair suffered the most. When someone infuriated the doctor by bringing him to a white knee, you could only stifle a groan, which the elder never liked, while his hands squeezed your hips, moving to your waist and hugging tightly, as if the child did not want to let go of his favorite plush toy at night, which could ensure his safety in the dark. The most unexpected thing was when the sadist's elegant hands found their way to your chest, squeezing it, and someone else's lips stopped right in front of your ear, red with embarrassment and shame." What do you think is worse for those employees who can't even complete their assignments properly, like being fired or getting a lot of work, much more than usual? " he asked you, massaging your chest through the fabric of your shirt, forbidding you to wear any additional fabric in his office in the form of a jacket, vest or dressing gown, " I think it would be better for them to do more work than usual" you say, swallowing, having already learned that your words could often acquire weight and leave employees with torn nerves and a nervous breakdown, or, which was rare, because the company needed employees, to throw out completely poorly working people from the company.

But the worst part, as you convinced yourself, even though you were grinning nervously alone, was remembering the events that happened to you when you unknowingly flirted with some of the staff, leaving Dr. Harley in a bad mood. What can you say? He was furious. You could get used to the compressions that left bruises on your body later. But you couldn't get used to the man's jealousy when you re-entered his office, kicking off your heels and closing the door, as per the usual ritual. You wouldn't have entered this room knowing what was waiting for you. In less than 15 minutes, you were standing on trembling legs, leaning your torso on the table, not completely, but only with your waist and arms, whimpering and slightly swaying your hips from how pleasantly and painfully the elastic and smooth head of the vibrator slid, caressing your femininity, and the body of your boss pressed close did not give you a chance to move. And all I can do is choke on moans and sobs. Sometimes getting slapped on the hips, you twitched, whining, but rather from how at such moments it was pleasant and humiliating for a toy to torment your clitoris, pressing against your labia, but focusing on a lump of nerves, bringing you to tears and removing the vibrating object from your body again when you had a little bit left before climax, and your natural lubricant was already flowing down your legs, staining the floor. "Repeat what a good assistant should do and how he should treat his boss, even if he is not in charge of the company, but in charge of a subordinate" the man whispered threateningly in your ear, hearing with sadistic pleasure your hoarse apologies for allegedly cheating, which you did not allow, but in the perverted mind of the elder, you could do anything wrong, just to untie his hands and give him a reason to torment you and bring you to the edge of ecstasy. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Dr. Sawyer" you apologized in a trembling voice, moaning, rolling your eyes with treacherous pleasure when men's hands squeeze your bare breasts thanks to your removed shirt and bra, which makes you bite your tongue, which you shouldn't have talked much to other people, while your knees are weak from rough play with your nipples. "Please forgive my assistant, I will never again pay so much attention to those who do not deserve anything, but I will give all my attention only to the genius of science and surgery, you, Harley Sawyer" you begged with a hoarse voice, pleasing his ego, rolling your eyes when the toy returned to your clitoris. get the long-awaited orgasm, but the doctor's silence never ended such evenings of punishment and obedience. You could only lie down on the table with your chest, trying to catch your breath, and with excitement and horror you could hear the sound of your fly being unfastened and the almost lightning-fast pressing of the elder's erection with a languid sigh, which meant that for you it was not at all the end of re-education.

"You got what you wanted. You're not overworking anymore" the man said carelessly, holding you in his arms, while Rob ran a pencil over a piece of paper, drawing out different poses for an entity called "Yarnaby." "Yes, it's true and I'm grateful to you for that, but maybe you'll still give me at least a little contact with the staff, I spend time with you from morning until late at night" you timidly answer, looking away and not daring to get up from someone else's lap while his head rests on your shoulder. your shoulder, and your back is pressed against his chest. You hold your breath, hearing that grin right in your ear again, "Is there something you don't like, Y/N? You really wanted to avoid running around platforms and seeing the smirks of some employees. I'm just fulfilling your wish. "he was saying, which made your toes feel a little tight, because even though he fulfilled your wish, he did it in such a sophisticated way and turned everything around to his advantage, as always. Once again, you were left without the opportunity to argue your answer, sighing and continuing to rest in strangely caring and proper hands. You could only bite your cheek and reflect that both you and the young man know about your situation with trying to appear as a higher person in other people's eyes and that Harley would use this against you every time you had at least one thought about leaving him. Only sometimes, glancing at the notes on different sheets left at some time to the owners of this office, you are distracted from dark thoughts. And an intriguing question for you was - who is Riley and why do I need to check her every day on.. bouts of aggression?

You were distraught when you were fired from your job right after Sawyer went missing. You couldn't answer what hurt you more, the fact that he ran away, the fact that you were fired because of him or because of his possible report on you, because if he's not in the workplace, then you shouldn't be either. At least that's what he kept saying when he dragged her into his bed, arguing that if he had a day off, so did you. And it means that you will limp again later in the evening from making love to him. But now. You were broken and confused, returning to the apartment, which was now so lonely without yours.. A lover? You didn't even know what kind of relationship you were in with him before he disappeared. That's all you could say for sure. You've become more attached to him than you planned, wanted, or could have been.. It scared you and made you cry without the affection of your beloved doctor. And his sometimes persistent kisses.

But here. After almost a few years, returning to the factory with your employee, having overcome so many dangers and living creatures that you saw only with children and only with smiles, thinking that they were harmless. You could only realize with horror that all this was an illusion, and judging by the tapes that you listened to with bated breath with your colleague, each of the experiments suffered. And you suffered the same way because of your former boss Sawyer, which made your heart sink into your heels and you were ready to collapse on the floor, not realizing that you had always been so close to a real monster.

And now. While you heard your friend running away from the mechanical bodies, you only screamed faintly into the fabric of your skirt, which was torn off at your bottom and covered your mouth from the way the wires bound your body, tightening the same on your miniature figure, clasping your hands behind your back again, while other bare wires slid over your though and a body covered with clothes, but still sensitive to weak electric shocks. And these blows were imitation kisses, while you stared wide-eyed at the humanoid creature standing above you, not allowing you to move or get up from the table on which you were sitting like a prisoner. Just the way he likes it... You just stared with horror in your eyes at the TV, which displayed a single eye that described all your features and the fact that you had hardly changed in any way over the years. His mechanical hand rests on your chin and with deliberate tenderness presses on it, forcing you to swallow out of habit from the learned signal sign - to be closer to the boss, which you do, leaning towards the figure, not even giving yourself an account of the actions, but only mechanically doing the work itself. "I've been waiting for you for so long, my beloved assistant. You've missed and missed me too much, Y/N, but don't worry. I won't leave you alone anymore. Never. "

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi ms raven :D i was playing through vil's dream in book 7 and i was wondering if you could explain a little more about his character? i remember struggling to understand his motivs leading up to his overblot. the current understanding i have now is that vil wants to be the best or the most beautiful but is constantly getting blocked by neige probably because hes not perfect and it makes others lean towards him and want to support him while vil has reached a level where hes seemingly flawless on the outside making it hard for people to get close to him the way they do with neige? does he crave the validation from others and is that why there was an emphasis on him declaring that he himself is the most beautiful like in b6 and b7? i dont think i really understand him enough and its just been on my mind for a while now TT

I think Vil's got one of those backstories and motives that's easy to misunderstand if skimmed. This can lead to misinterpretations where fans assume he's vain and only seeking to take Neige down for shallow attention. It's a lot more complex than that!

The first thing to note about Vil is that he is a child star. His father, Eric Venue, is also a very successful celebrity, but the public does not know about their familial relationship. Vil has worked very hard to achieve his level of stardom all on his own, without relying on nepotism or riding on the coattails of his father. However, that also means that Vil was under an intense amount of pressure and scrutiny since a young age, and that can really mess with one's self-perception.

Since the start of his career, Vil has only ever been casted in villain roles. His post-OB flashback shows Vil asking his dad "Why do I keep getting picked to play the bad guy? Do I really look that mean?"

And though his father reassures him and calls him cute and charming, the vast majority of other people Vil interacts with judge him and assign labels to him. Children Vil's age "hold [him] accountable for work(s) of fiction", equating him playing villainous roles on TV to him actually being a villainous person off-set.

Similar things occur in his professional life. Film crew members praise Neige for his friendliness and wholesome vibe, but also express that Vil is just too perfect and hard for audiences to relate to, so Vil apparently isn't suitable to play the hero.

So on one hand, you have Vil's peers, who assume that he must be an awful person, just like all the characters he plays. Then you have Vil's colleagues, who put him on a pedestal, calling him "special" but also saying he's not relatable. Both viewpoints isolate and dehumanize him. They indirectly tell Vil--a young, impressionable kid--that he's not capable of goodness or of being a normal person. You also have to keep in mind that because Vil always has eyes on him, he has to maintain a cool, mature, and perfectly curated public image. He has had to grow up extremely fast in order to handle himself in the entertainment industry. That's an INTENSE amount of pressure to be under. So how does Vil react to all this pressure? By pushing himself to work even harder to prove everyone wrong. "I would do anything to be beautiful. The most rigorous training. The most tedious hair and skin care regimens. I would shy away from none of it." This is later repeated in the Tapis Rouge event: “[…] looking for the easy way out. Something I detest. […] I love to see someone with a lofty goal who’s not afraid to work for it.”

At this juncture, I'd like to point out a vital area where Vil's story and that of Snow White weave together. In Snow White, physical beauty is used as shorthand to indicate the goodness of a character. Snow White is pure, beautiful, and innocent because she has a good heart. The Evil Queen is more accurately depicted in her hag form because of how her jealousy twists her into something hideous. When Vil speaks of beauty, it's also in a similar context. He's using "beauty" as a metaphor for "goodness", hence why he fixates on Neige being the "fairest one of all". Neige is the one always playing the hero, and he is also the one the internet considers the most beautiful--so if Vil can become the most beautiful, then surely he, too, can be a hero.

If beauty = goodness, then the opposite is also true to book 5 Vil: ugliness = villainy. And if he is always assigned the villain again and again and again, then its telling Vil that he's “ugly”, that he is a bad person and can never be anything but that.

Not only that, but Vil's worries about permanently being labelled a villain relates back to how his peers and colleagues perceive him. "[...] villains never stay on stage for the whole play. Once their role is finished, all they do is watch from the shadows as the happy ending plays out. [...] All I want is to stay on stage until the end of the show." Vil wants what has always been denied to him: the ability to stand on stage and take a bow with the other actors, to be treated like a normal person that's a part of the group, to have that humanity handed back to him. Why should he be the only one languishing backstage while Neige and other heroes get to soak up that spotlight? He wants to be a part of it, too. He wants to be included.

Let's get back into book 5, present day, now. Vil spends much of this book driving his teammates VERY hard to achieve his vision. To this end, he is imposing harsh restrictions on them, such as new diets, new skincare, new practice routines, and more. This of course garners many protests, but Vil insists on having his way and admonishes those who complain. In these moments, Vil is very much acting like a "villain"--but to him, it's all worth it, because he wants to win against Neige fair and square, earning that victory through his own efforts. "[...] I have no interest in spells that fade when the clock chimes midnight. What I seek is genuine, authentic aesthetic perfection."

Recall that I said earlier that beauty is used as a shorthand for goodness. Because Vil is stating that he wants to win fairly, he is attempting to demonstrate his own beauty--his own goodness--in this bid to triumph over his rival.

But what ends up happening? Vil sees Neige's practice performance and realizes right away that NRC is destined to lose. He tries to take matters into his own hands by cursing a bottle of apple juice and offering it to Neige. While book 5 is vague about what the consequences of drinking that cursed juice would have been, book 7 implies the worst--that Vil had intended to kill Neige with it. Vil went against his own principles (which he stated earlier in book 5) and used a dirty tactic to get Neige out of his way. He can only win if he harms others in the process. I would argue that what triggers Vil to snap and OB isn't his failure to poison Neige (although that's certainly a part of it), but rather Vil realizing he just... proved what everyone has always said about him right. That he's rotten to the core (ie "ugly") and will never be anything else but a villain.

Vil fixates on the eyes of his teammates, perceiving them to be staring at him and judging the moral ugliness of his actions. Like in his childhood, he derives much of his image from public feedback--from the eyes on him. "Please. Don't look at me... Don't look at me with those eyes! Why? I wanted to be the fairest one of all, so why am I so... so... ugly? Ugly?! UGLY?!"

Kalim and Rook try to reassure Vil and remind him that Neige didn't get hurt, so it's okay. But Vil only gets more upset and continues to berate himself. "What does it matter who forgives me?! I can't... I can't forgive myself!" This makes sense for Vil, who is a character that has consistently held the people around him, as well as himself, to high standards. He has betrayed himself, and he is ashamed of how ugly his envy has made him.

After Vil's OB, Rook pretty succinctly states why Vil fails to be "beautiful": because he doesn't believe in himself. Throughout his entire life, Vil has been relying on the words of others to affirm his identity as someone "beautiful", as a "good" person. You can even argue that Vil being so strict with himself is to earn the approval of others, to be seen as the "most beautiful". But Vil never truly believed he was "beautiful" ("good"), and that lack of confidence is ironically what is keeping him from realizing his full potential. "Nobody should believe in your beauty more than you yourself [...] No amount of validation from the rest of the world will ever leave you fulfilled. Even if you wind up old, emaciated, grimy, and stooped over... If you were to truly believe that you are the fairest of all despite that, even the Magic Mirror of legend wouldn't contest your claim. The strength and pride to believe in yourself is what marks the true fairest one of all. Roi du Poison. Fair Vil. I implore you to believe in yourself more than anyone else. Beauty is always with you. At this exact moment, you are the fairest one of all."

In book 6, we get to see how far Vil's character has progressed. When Idia taunts Pomefiore, calling them "wannabe heroes", Vil responds with, "You know, I've always wanted to be cast as a hero, just once. But there are no heroes or villains here. This time I'll be the one who stays on stage till the very end!" He now disregards the notion of labels and is only committed to being the one that puts an end to Idia's machinations.

This point is even further driven home when we see old!Vil, the result of him diving into Tartarus to pull Idia out. Though his dorm members are shocked to see their glamourous leader in this state, Vil laughs it off and announces, without hesitation: "Even though I'm grimy, withered, and emaciated... At this exact moment, I am the fairest one of all." This parallels the words Rook imparted onto him at the end of book 5. ("Even if you wind up old, emaciated, grimy, and stooped over... [...] At this exact moment, you are the fairest one of all.")

It's a complete reversal of Vil OBing. Back in book 5, Vil went mad because he realized his jealous actions made him hideous (even if he still physically looks young and conventionally attractive). But now, in book 6, Vil is content in knowing that his heroic actions make him absolutely beautiful (even if he stands there, old and grey). It doesn't matter what he looks like on the outside, or what other people think of him--because Vil has learned to love himself and to stay true to his principles.

He is deserving of standing on that stage with everyone else. He is human, like everyone else. He’s not THE Vil Schoenheit anymore, he’s… just Vil. This also shows in vulnerable moments late game, like him squealing from excitement at the end of book 6 or screaming in fear in book 7. He still has the image of a celebrity to maintain, but he’s now allowing himself to be less of that “perfect” person, at least around his peers. I believe this is what Vil’s dream in book 7 reinforces. This is most exemplified when Vil faces his OB self and announces, “Oh… This is deplorable. I’m so steeped in envy and resentment there isn’t a trace of beauty to be found. But I won’t turn away from it any longer. I accept this nauseatingly ugly part part of myself. This is… the real me.” I won't get into the details of that dream, since I assume you've played it + it would just repeat what I've already gone over in this post. That’s honestly what most (if not all) of the book 7 dreams do, try to summarize their personal issues, how the dream attempts to placate them with convenient falsehoods, and then have the dreamers confront those falsehoods with what they’ve learned through their own arcs.

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑆𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 (𝐹. 𝑇𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑎𝑟)

Unfortunately this is my life right now. I needed my family gone YESTERDAY.

Contains: stressed, stress, stressing, tangible irritation, dysfunctional oblivious family, kissing, hiding, cameo appearance based on my older sister

There wasn’t a breath deep enough you could take to calm yourself down.

Fiyero seemed to be acutely aware of this so he stayed silent as his chest was pressed to yours where you both were glued together, currently hiding from the everlasting season of irritation that was your family and the holidays. There honestly weren’t any words.

The lack of space, the way they stayed glued to your side during most of their stay, the snoring, endless noise, whining, complaining, the way all your brothers seemed to speak in surround sound, all the mess, how nothing was ever good enough for your mother, toppled over with all your unfairly assigned “sister responsibilities”.…you exhale heavily through your mouth as you run your hands down your face. If all the general inconvenience wasn’t enough, you barely got to spend any alone time with the one person who didn’t constantly stress or annoy you. The most you got to do was a peck- maybe kiss- and you had to sneak to do that because if they knew you had a boyfriend after being socially averse your whole life, you know how badly they’d blow it out of proportion- before one of your family members was off wanting to do something or another. Another heavy sigh and with this one, you’re fighting tears. You just want your apartment back, no mess and no noise with no loud family that wears out every welcome you’ve ever given. Peace and quiet. That’s all you wanted.

So, here you were; hiding with your secret boyfriend in the bathroom with the lights off to escape the noise and be alone with the solace you give each other for just a few minutes. You’ve had a headache for days and Fiyero’s been going with everything assumingely unbothered but you know better. He likes the space you two have. He also knows that you truly didn’t want to do anything this year so the look on your face when all your close relatives and siblings literally appeared at your place on Friday for a surprise stay at your place for Christmas week gave him a hint on why you wanted to stay out of the drama for this year. Plus…Fiyero misses you. Yeah, you were there but you weren’t happy. He misses you happy and the flow you both had before it got disrupted. Your folks were nice enough but he couldn’t overlook how…inconsiderate…they also were. Just dropping in without checking in on how you felt about it or if you had any prior plans and then expecting you to accommodate them, didn’t feel right. He can only imagine how over it you really are so that’s why if in this moment all he can give you is silence, he will. Smoothing a hand down your hair, he resigns himself to wait in the darkness along with you until you’re ready but you speak first.

“I want our apartment back.”

“I know. Me too, miss having you all to myself.”

You smile a little at that because it really was lovely with just the two of you. Quiet, calm, and a sweet atmosphere that came with coexisting with the love of your life.

“Don’t get me wrong- i did miss them just-”,

“Not all at once for an impromptu 7 day stay?” You pinch your lips in as a frown overtakes your features, the picture of unhappiness and Fiyero pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and rests his chin on top of your head while you pout.

“Exactly.”

You both sigh in tandem, soaking in the one break you’ve had in 5 whole days.

“What else is it? You’ve been more…” Fiyero trails off as he cups your face, peering down into yours. He doesn’t really have to elaborate because you know what he means and you know he won’t judge your answer.

“…they’re just so…needy. They want everything. You should’ve seen the episode yesterday in the shopping center.” You groan remembering how much a season you didn’t plan on participating in has cost you. You didn’t even want to celebrate in the first place. You just wanted to relax, have sex with your boyfriend, and enjoy holiday themed stuff and occasional outings with your friends but nooo you couldn’t even do that.

Sensing your rapidly overwhelming frustration, Fiyero presses a slow, firm, kiss on your lips. Humming when you kiss him back before pulling away.

“Just 2 more days”, he says, squishing your cheeks so your mouth opens then leaning back down to kiss you again but deeper. He swallows your moans as you drag your hand up his back, feeling the muscles there as he takes your breath away. You feel his tongue lave hotly across the inside of your cheek and you almost lose your balance from the jolt of pleasure that shoots through you, other hand gripping his forearm. However, Fiyero pulls away before you can make a scene, resting his forehead against yours as you gasp against his mouth, trying to catch your breath. You barely hear him when he talks through the blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding.

“Two more days. Okay?”

The rasp in his voice hypnotizes you and you nod belatedly, movements slow and jerky as you repeat dumbly after him.

Mmhm, yeah, two more days.”

Fiyero smiles at how eager you are to forget the past 5 days of disaster through his touch but it’s only 4:11 pm and you have company waiting. You slip your hands underneath his ugly Christmas sweater, feeling the hard ridges of his muscles, tilting your head up with a pleased hum when he meets your lips again within seconds. It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in days, held and being kissed breathless. The only noise being your panting and Fiyero’s low groans. You drag your fingertips down his happy trail- not to start anything, of course but just because his skin is nice- feeling giddy at the way his hands hold you tighter.

“Honey! Are you almost done? We have awkward posed pictures to take!” Rapid knocks accompanied by your older sisters voice make you two spring apart and you fight not to scream in frustration.

“Yeah I’ll be out in a few minutes!” You yell back, craving an empty space more than ever. Huffing one more time, you feel Fiyero nose along your temple before whispering in your ear.

“Two more days?”

“Two more days and not a hour longer.” You hear the footsteps walk away from the door but of course it’s not the end the end of it.

“You should invite your friend! The one that’s been hanging around the last couple of days! He’s ridiculously hot and he’s got an ass that could cause traffic!!” She yells across the distance she walks from the door and your mouth drops in sheer mortification, face hot while you pointedly ignore the shake of Fiyero’s chest as he laughs; clearly very much enjoying your sisters praise.

“I really am all that, huh?

This won’t be the longest two days of your life at all..

[anselbun]

Thinking about dick graysons canon hallucinations and his also very canon (though not explicitly stated) BPD today. About how he was 100% in the throes of an extended manic episode during a lot of the older titans comics from right after Jason’s death. How even in the current day he struggles so horribly with all his huge pent up feelings that are constantly changing and just doesn’t know how to deal with, but has forced himself to learn how to hide them until they blow over. He has to hide them. He has to be the mature one. He has to protect the other kids from the chaos and pain that is this life.

Dick, who has to hallucinate the child brother he barely knew because that’s the only way to cope with his death. The only way to make his brain think he hasn’t been “abandoned” by another person he cares about.

How, when Roy had to take over the titans, all dick could think and feel was that Roy didn’t trust him or care about him anymore and that none of the titans wanted him here. That he was being rejected. That they didn’t love him. That this was just like when Batman fired him as robin.

It isn’t like that. It never WAS like that. But dick does not always understand that.

As he’s gotten older, he hasn’t quite “mellowed out”. He’s still the intensely emotional, struggling person he was in the older comics. He still has deeply impulsive thoughts and constantly tries to put the perceived needs of others above himself, over and over and over. But he’s learned that he cannot show these feelings to others. That he HAS to keep them in, because if they see that he’s struggling, the rejection will just be worse. That he’ll ruin more relationships, that he won’t be able to be there to protect those people when they need him.

And then there’s Jason after he’s returned. Jason who always feels that dick is judging him, now. How he thinks dick is always looking at him as if he’s about to blow up, about to have some crazy plan that will get others killed. Because, well- that’s what dick DOES expect. Because he saw Jason, with the “same” big feelings that dick had at that point in his life, but Jason “never” hid them. He went out there and expressed his rage as red hood and got it all out, and dick never really did that without immediately regretting the consequences and having to fix it.

I think, in dicks perspective , everybody else has these same huge feelings he has all the time. The constant back and forth, the constant fear of rejection. He sees Jason being angry and violent and thinks- “why can’t he just hold it all in like I do?”. He doesn’t get that this is a different situation, different feelings. That dick holding in all this violent anger and need for reassurance isn’t good for him, that Jason learning to do that wouldn’t be good for him either.

I think, as much as dick probably wouldn’t want to admit it, he projects onto his family a lot like Jason does. Jason and his comments about how the other kids only ever became Robin so that Bruce would love them. Sure, there’s some truth in it when it comes to damian, who had no connection to Gotham other than it being where his father lived. But there’s more nuances to that that Jason doesn’t understand about his siblings because he’s not in their head. Just like how there’s nuances to all of their feelings and trauma and reactions to things that dick will never understand.

He’s forced himself to mature, to grow and bury these feelings because he knows he has to be the responsible one. He has to do what his family and bludhaven and Gotham and his team all need. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have those feelings of anger in him. That doesn’t mean he stops looking at Bruce sometimes and thinking- “god, I think he’s a monster” after seeing everything Bruce has done to the other kids. That also doesn’t change that dick looks at Bruce and thinks “he’s my father my mentor my hero, my brother, my saviour, my partner, my everything- my god. I’d die for him. I will never be him. I will never be good enough for him. I need him to be better for everyone else.”

Dick will never stop feeling these constant sways of emotions. They’ll always be a part of them. He’s just had to bury them. Until Bruce fucks up too bad again or someone hurts one of the kids dick’s sworn himself to protect. Until he has no choice than to let it all boil over.

Dick isn’t the angry robin. He isn’t the happy robin. Boiling him and Jason down to either one of those characteristics is just damaging to their characters and what they’ve been through.

Dick is bright and happy and loving and charismatic. But he’s so angry. He’s so tired. He wants to be loved and he wants to be safe. He wants to protect others. Needs to protect others. Needs to be the one whose always there to do it because he trusts nobody else to handle it all. He has to handle it all. He doesn’t want to handle any of it. He’s so tired. He’s so angry. He loves so strong and it’s killing him.

He spends so much of his time seeing how being Batman is killing Bruce. How much of his life Bruce has given to the thing that will kill him.

I think dick refuses to accept that being robin, being nightwing, is killing himself too. That he’s not immune to this. That pushing himself harder and harder and trying to “prove” himself that he CAN handle everything over and over again doesn’t mean he should. That he’s torturing himself in ways even Batman cannot see.

[highprincessofthenightcourt]

A rant for Cassian because I want to

(And I’m going to put his friendship and love of Feyre aside for this post because this is meant to be about him and Rhysand.)

Every time I see people criticize Cassian for refusing to enable his mate’s toxic behaviors or for choosing to understand Rhysand’s situation and feelings, I can’t help but wonder…what exactly did they expect from him?

Cassian saw Rhys lose his mother, his father, his sister—and still find the strength to care for his people and dream of a better future for them all. He saw his brother disappear for fifty years, knowing he had to be enduring unimaginable torture just to protect his family. He saw his brother die. He watched him sacrifice everything to save the world and give his family a chance at a good life, even if that meant they’d have to live it without him.

After all that suffering, Cassian finally got to witness Rhys find happiness—he was going to have a love more beautiful than any other, to become a father, to have everything he had fought and bled for. And then he saw it all threatened again. Rhys faced the possibility of losing the love of his life, their unborn child, their hope, their future—everything he and Feyre had fought so hard for.

So yes, if Cassian had a soft spot for the brother who had been there for him in every possible way since the beginning—the brother he’d grown up alongside, who had suffered so much and still managed to give so much of himself to others—I understand that completely. And if he chose not to support someone on their unreasonable hatred toward the people he cared about during a time as fragile as that, I truly can’t blame him.

In fact, I think he did the right thing. Because if someone I was dating disrespected my family—especially during such a sensitive time, and without any logical reason—you can bet I would’ve done much worse than Cassian did. And I say this acknowledging that trauma manifests differently for everyone. But if you only ever focus on your own pain without considering how deeply others are hurting—and on top of that, you make things even harder for them—it will inevitably cost you their presence. No one will stick around forever if they’re constantly being torn down.

Cassian stood by his family during their darkest time and refused to excuse behavior that added more pain. That’s not a failure of loyalty—it’s the truest kind of it. Love isn’t enabling. Love tells you when you’ve made a mistake and when you need to stop, because you’re wrong. At least that’s how it is in my book. And I, for one, will never judge Cassian or anyone else for that.

[idk6123]

Puppeteer The Puppeteer (Homelander X Male Reader)

With The Seven constantly being on the hot seat, Homelander only wishes one thing during days like these, control. He wishes there were a way The Deep do less dumb stuff. He wishes A-Train wasn’t some junkie that relies on drugs to use his powers. He wishes he could actually trust Starlight. He wishes Queen Maeve actually would listen to him and stop hating him. He wishes Translucent was still alive. He was fine with Black Noir.

With the lack of a member, he wishes someone more reliable to have in the team. Someone that meets all of his requirements, strong, obedient, trustworthy, basically everything that lacks with his current team. Thus, he got Ashley to scout for potential heroes.

“…And by doing this, we will be keeping up with the trend for more inclusivity.”

Homelander frowns and drops the information file on his desk. “You really think someone blind and in a wheelchair would fit the team?”

“She may be handicapped, but she’s strong. Besides, we never had a handicapped person in The Seven.”

“True, but we do have one in the PR team.” Homelander ruthlessly comment. Without even looking at the offended Ashley, the blonde looks through the files of how he finds interestingly enough to take even a peek.

“Luckily, we many other candidates. I’m sure we can reach a compromise-” Homelander drops the files on the side. Then he gestures to Ashley to give him the files she’s holding. She’s quick to give it to him, making him to look again. “We have plenty of strong heroes who will make the public-” She then stops talking when Homelander stops browsing to look at one file in particular. Judging by his face, he found his new hero. “Who’re you looking at?”

With a satisfied smirk, Homelander continues to look through the file. “We got our new member.”

-

“I highly advice to not get him.” In the hallway, Ashley is following Homelander, who’s meeting his new teammate. “He just made his break as a hero. He only got 11 followers on Instagram, most of them being family members. He caught only 2 burglars. He’s an introvert and I’m not surprised he only leave the house to do grocery shopping. The only good thing is that he’s gay, but I got 100 gay guys on my list.”

“I don’t care about them. I want him.” Homelander insist. He doesn’t stop walking. Not even looking at Ashley as he talks. “And if you’re going to have trouble having him good PR, that is your problem.” With that, Homelander enters his office, with Ashley following him with stress.

Inside of the office, Homelander is quick to see the young man, who looks a bit nervous. He stands up to give his new boss a nervous smile. “It’s an honor meeting you, sir.”

Homelander accepts his hand, smiling back at him. “Please drop the formalities. Please treat me like you treat your friends.”

After introductions, Y/N sit back on his seat, while Homelander is sitting opposite of him. Ashley is standing at the side, wondering what her boss is up to. “I have to say, I’m quite surprised I received a call. I just started all of this, and I’m already being recognized by The Seven.”

“There is a reason for that.” Homelander shows a kind smile. “You got a gift like no other, Y/N. “I never seen a telepath that has such potential like you have. I know you’re an amateur right now, but I can see in front of me a hero that will save millions of lives.”

Y/N blushes a bit, didn’t expecting to receive so many complements from his idol. “T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you don’t mind, I would like to see you demonstrating your powers. I want to see how good you are right now.” Homelander requests. “I want you to tell me something embarrassing of Ashley.”

Ashley looks alarmed, with Y/N being taken a little aback. “…I don’t use my powers on people casually unless necessary.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine with it.” Homelander brushes it off. Although not wanting it, Ashley merely forced a painful smile. “Besides, considering this is about your future, don’t you think it’s necessary?”

Y/N knows things seems off, but this is ones in a lifetime chance. So, he uses his powers. Within a second, his face looks disgusted. “What kind of BDSM shit are you in?”

Homelander looks amused as Ashley looks even more embarrassed. “I don’t even need her to confirm it that you did it.” He then leans over. “Now for my final request. I want you to use your mind control power, take over Ashley’s mind and do something ridiculous in the hallway.”

“Wait-!”

Before Ashley could beg for Y/N not to, he did, though he feels a bit guilty. Her entire face only shows some hollowness. As she walks to the hallway, Homelander smirks and stand up. Both men get out of the hallway to see what’s going to happen. There, Ashley stands in the middle of it, with people passing by, not knowing what is going to happen.

“Attention! People! Attention!” Every worker in the hallway looks at her. “I need to confess something! Yesterday, we had a party back at my house, but I didn’t invited most of you. I want to apologize for sleeping in front of some of you and I was advised to go to the doctors.” Every worker frowns at hearing her. “I also want to apologize for the… ‘bathroom’ incident. I shouldn’t drink that much, and I got karma for it. I puked over some of you… and I’m sure you also saw me shitting in my pants at the same time. Again, I’m apologize, and I’m hope we can work normally from now on.” With that, she walks away. When she’s gone from the scene, Y/N let go of her mind.

Homelander looks proud at him as he put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Congratulations teammate. You’re in.”

-

Somehow, Ashley managed to create a story surrounding the new Seven member. Y/N apparently helped Homelander during a mission as a rookie, without knowing the big hero were there. Because of it, Homelander took the newly hero under his wing and train him. The whole spin is basically a sidekick and coach relationship, which worked well for the public.

Right now, it’s the first interview for the new hero. As he awaits in the lounge room, he nervously thinks through the interview, playing it in his mind. Homelander walks in, knowing Y/N is stressing.

“You don’t look too good, buddy.”

“…I never got interviewed before, that’s all.” Y/N nervously steps on the ground. “Especially not one at national tv.”

Homelander gives him an assures smile as he walks over to him. “Remember you can just be yourself. It’s alright to be shy. In fact, Ashley would love to represent someone more introverted on the big screen. Just be humble, nice and honest, exactly how we met. Think you can do that?”

Y/N hums. “Yeah. I’m not one for scripts to be honest. But I’m fine lying if it makes you guys lives a bit easier.”

Homelander looks proud. “That’s my sidekick.” He put an arm around the younger man, who looks a bit nervous. “And don’t worry. I’m going to sit right besides you if you need me.”

Y/N can’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

-

Y/N been accustom quiet well in The Seven. He and Starlight became quick friends. He took training sessions with Queen Maeve. He and Black Noir often spend time together, since both aren’t much talkers. He got stamina training from A-Train. He doesn’t talk to The Deep because he’s currently off the team because he raped someone. Y/N isn’t one to judge people quickly, but he makes an exception with him. That leaves Homelander, who spends the most time with. He helps him train his powers, his fighting moves and helping him PR wise. The boy often views Homelander as his mentor, and comes to him for general life advice, like today.

“I can tell there is something up your mind.” Homelander speaks up as both eat their lunches. “You can talk to me.”

“Well…” Y/N looks a bit uncomfortable. He takes a second for how to phrase it. “…So, I met this guy at security. He’s kinda my first friend that aren’t you guys. But yesterday, he… he asked me out.”

This makes the blonde curious. “Like a date?”

“Y-Yeah…” Y/N replies. “I never had one, so… I’m a bit nervous.”

Homelander smiles, as he thinks through the situation. He’s quick to have a solution in his mind for the new problem. “Want some advice? Just be yourself. He already knows you, so don’t worry about presenting yourself as being social or something. Besides, there is nothing to be ashamed of being quiet.”

Y/N can’t help but smile. “Basic advice, but your right. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

-

Later that day, Homelander got to the guy’s apartment to ‘fix’ the problem. Afterwards, all he had to do is send a text to Y/N the date is off because he wasn’t interested. Knowing the effect he’s going to get; he calls it a day and await for the next act.

The next day, he met with Y/N in the training room, seeing him more stoic then usual. “Everything alright there?”

“…My date bailed on me.” Y/N avoids looking at Homelander. “He said he wasn’t interested.”

“You serious?” Homelander sits down at the side. Afterwards, he gestures his sidekick to sit besides him, which he does. “What a jerk. Are you alright?”

Y/N shakes his head. “…I-I was really looking forward for it. I thought, maybe now I’m in The Seven, it’s fine to be the quiet guy… but it looks things hasn’t changed a bit.”

Homelander put an arm around Y/N, scooting him a bit over to him. “Don’t be ashamed. I know you’re an amazing guy. You’re kind, polite, honest and a hard worker. If he called the date off, that is his loss, because any guy is lucky to be with you.” With that being said, he put his other hand on Y/N’s knee, making the man blushing a bit as Homelander’s face is so close.

“Y-You really think so.”

“I don’t think so. I know it.” Homelander smiles warmly. “Think you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” Y/N smiles. “I’m going to be fine.”

-

Some days later, Homelander invited Y/N to his room. Once there, he sees the blonde holding a bottle of champagne alongside two glasses on the table.

“Since you did so well last mission, I thought we should celebrate.” He opens the bottle, as a pop sound comes from it. With a smile, he tempts Y/N to drink, which he does.

With both men smiling, they drink the champagne from the glass as they sit down. Homelander is proud of his sidekick, now finally being stand on his own. Last mission, Y/N managed to mind control 10 people at the same time. Without even getting someone hurt, he successfully removed some terrorist who would’ve ended innocent people’s lives.

“Just imagine what you can do in the future. Wouldn’t be great if you could do, let’s say, 100 people?”

“I had already trouble doing with 10.” Y/N laughs. “It’s going to be a while before I can do even 20. That being said, it’s all thanks to you. You saw the potential in me and helped me achieve it.”

“You’re welcome. I know talent when I see it.” Homelander smiles. “And I know you’re only to get better from here out.”

“I feel like that too.” Y/N sounds hopeful.

“And I continue train you. …But I have something to confess to you. I have an ulterior motive.”

Y/N is curious. “Really? What’s it?”

“Well…” Homelander avoids looking at him. “When I first saw your file, I knew you were going to be a great member, and I was more then happy to help you. But as I spend more time with you, I grew more attach to you. Not as a teammate, or a friend, but as someone who cares for you.”

Y/N looks a bit stunned. “…You mean as a partner?”

Homelander looks back at him. “Nothing would make me happier to have you at my side… as something more then a friend.”

“W-Wow…” Y/N continues to look startled. “…I-I never expected this.”

Homelander smiles. “It’s alright. Take your time.”

“I… I would be very happy to be your boyfriend.”

With a wider smile, the hero leans in and kisses Y/N, who nervously kisses back. Both of them being gentle with the other. It was short, but it was sweet, something what the blonde was going for. After the kiss, he put his hand on Y/N’s cheek.

“You look so beautiful. I’m very happy to have you at my side.”

-

The next day and the big hero wake up in his bed. His eyes quick to look at the side to see Y/N lying next to him. His front is facing towards him. With a wide smile, Homelander get on his side to carefully hug Y/N, who’s face is now against his chest. The new recruit mutters something.

“Y/N?”

But it appears he’s still asleep. The blonde then looks pass Y/N’s head. As he continues to smile, he knows he got what he wanted. To have someone’s loyalty, now in the form of love. And to make it better, have someone that is powerful. With his powers, Homelander can use his telepathic abilities to get any information instantly and control someone’s mind without any problem. Sure, he needs to mold his lover to do what he wishes, but if he continues to be patient and dedicated to his project, things will turn out very well.

[shanklin]

The shellfish Selfish au has consumed my every waking thought, it’s so tragic so I want to add some more angst but also comfort.

What if after Stan killed Filbrick he had to stay with Dipper, Mabel and Ford. What if he couldn’t handle their judging, their questions and their half hearted attempts to do better( without Mabel or Dipper addressing any of their own issues it comes off as condescending) and he runs away into the forest.

And gets unwillingly halfway adopted by the multi- bear while trying to get out of the rain.

I imagine that Mabel, Dipper and Ford would feel horrible. Not just because of how they treated Stanley in the past but how he must have felt so unsafe that he ran away. And also panicking because the woods are dangerous, and Stan could already be dead.

Meanwhile Stan and the Multi- Bear are just chilling, listening to Babba and eating berries in a cave while Stan definitely isn’t avoiding his problems. Nope he’s totally fine. Besides it would be selfish to tell his family about his problem’s or have them deal with his issues so it would be better if he just disappeared forever.

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

Bonus points if Dipper [and the others] never met the Multibear. They only heard stories of an angry violent beast and  found some evidence that he took Stan and killed him.

[Stan just fell, got a head wound that bled a bit too much and the multibear took him home for some first aid]

…heh they prepare to get revenge on the multibear by training with the manotaurs and then Stan has to stop them from killing the multibear :’)

I kind of want the Multibear to be Stans therapist 🤔

Maybe Stan only ever comes home at night and spends everyday in the forest with the Multibear and getting some well needed therapy.

***

Hmm that makes me wonder what Dipper would be like without his lessons in manliness? 

A boy growing up in the 50~60ies who is at some point obsessed with being manly and strong and terrified of being seen as too girly, especially since his sister constantly forces him to do girly stuff with her. It’s just another thing for the other kids to make fun of him for and for the adults to look at him disapprovingly.

Maybe he had a whole little character arc that ends with Dipper being like “then I guess I will never be a man”. 

But instead of an adult reassuring him with a “You were your own man and you stood up for yourself. You did what was right, even though no one agreed with you. Sounds pretty manly to me.” he gets a “Don’t be such a sissy, boy!”

That would probably mess him up a bit.

***

Or it would be fun if there was a group of creatures in Gravity Falls who looked at Dipper at some point and decided to keep far away from him. 

“Egh, that guy. Hey, Kyle! Can you put a barrier up for me as well? Don’t want that jerk snooping around my cave!”

The Multibear is, of course, part of the anti-Dipper faction. And when he ~kidnaps~ semi-nonconsensually adopts Stan, so do the others. Stan feels safe with them. They’re all nonhuman and weird. He’s got no bad associations with that and he decides to stay with them.

[Not like his family wanted him to be around. They were perfectly happy when he was gone and now they were forced to take care of him. He’s doing them a favour.]

When Mabel, Ford and Dipper get close to discovering where Stan is hiding it’s time for war!

The creatures of the Forest are ready to protect one of their own with their lives and the Pines are ready to save Stan even if it kills them. 

While that is going on outside, the Multibear is having a really productive therapy session with Stan.

[satubby]

[Once upon a dream: Where you were happy]

As once in the dream, where you forgot your memories by my side, I will still be waiting for you, so please just don't forget who you were … My precious daughter of man - Malleus Draconia

[Disclaimer: This may contain errors so I'm sorry if they bother you or confuse you when reading. I didn't think this would be so long, I will finish part 3 in a few weeks. Thanks for your support, credits to the fanart I use, if I find their artists I'll post them.]

Morning was rising outside but the curtains cast shadows in your room, then the doors opened and the maids came into your room, they were all making as much noise as ever, you sigh exhaustedly refusing to look at them. "Come on princess, get up, today is your 16th birthday" One of them said, pulling you out of bed.

"I'm coming, I'm coming... It's too early for this" You sigh, getting up and heading to the powder room, you swallowed your bitterness smiling like the 'worthy and pretty princess' you were, then the maids. did their job starting to comb your hair. Your gaze was distant and you constantly clutched your dress, you were beautiful yes, but you honestly didn't care.

"Ouch, damn it" You whisper, feeling their eyes constantly on the back of your head. 

"Watch your mouth princess" murmured one, they continued brushing your hair and making you presentable, they always made sure you looked good. As you sat there, the doors opened again and a tall figure walked in. It was the housekeeper serving the queen, she entered haughty and powerful, all the maids in your service began to murmur. "Please hurry princess, you wouldn't want to embarrass the emperor and empress, would you?" 

You almost wanted to wring his neck but you knew better than to do stupid things. So you stood up without paying attention to his 'reprimand' and bowed your body politely, bowing your head as well, after all, you were a princess without any power.

 "Yes, thank you for letting me know...I assure you I only wish the best for the kingdom and the imperial family" She looks you with that very, very stiff and bitter face. After that incident like every morning, you moved towards the emperor's castle because you lived in the empress castle, farther than any other room, you used to live in the basement where they put weapons and old stuff but it was something. 

Walking down the hall, your arrival is announced, with trumpets and a red carpet. You know they're just pretending, no one gives a shit if you got in or not.

"ATTENTION!!! THIS IS THE INCOMING HEIR PRINCESS!" closing your eyes you enter with dignity as you were taught, you felt the pressure on your being before those judging eyes of the pompous nobles, so you tried not to look bad. Some looked at you with barely concealed disgust, others simply didn't look at you and the rest whispered like silly little birds cackling incessantly amidst rumors and gossip. 

Your strides echoed with the sound of the floor as you walked towards the rulers of this place you hated to call home; the looks they gave you were either filled with disgust or filled with envy as they stepped aside to make way for you. The hall in front of you slowly filled with people after you walked away and approached the throne on the platform. 

The emperor was sitting upright on his throne, next to him was the empress, looking majestic and presumptuous, as always. The empress smiled slightly as you knelt before them, both extended their hands waiting for a kiss from you, most of all it was the woman before you who gave you that silent command.

The empress stroked your hair with false kindness when you complied with her order, still with her smile on her face she continued to enjoy your humiliation, it disgusted you to look like a mere dog... And the emperor didn't even do anything, he never really cared about you. 

"Happy sixteenth birthday my dear.... Now I hope you won't do anything to make us sad; or would you like to see her highness disappointed?" Her lips brushed your lobe warning you with sincere malice, then she walked away from you smiling as if nothing had happened, you didn't even react, you knew what she wanted, you wouldn't give her that.

"Thank you for- Your worries, your highness and beloved emperor.... I wish you good vibes and I hope you live long!" With those words, you forced a forced smile swallowing your little pride and the bile in your throat felt bitter. You sincerely praised yourself, since you were good at acting, you had to do it if you wanted to survive. 

Again the emperor looked at you without interest and gave you permission to leave, so you did and like every year, you were alone on your birthday, the gifts were not really for you, much less was this party... And honestly you had long ago stopped giving it importance. 

Once he gave you permission to leave, you could leave the throne room and get away from this heavy atmosphere that only made you feel sick and want to vomit because of so much hypocrisy in the air. Although before you managed to get out of sight you could hear the nobles start whispering and gossiping behind your back. 

They were noisy, much louder than a rooster would be at morning crowing time, but what could you do? Nothing and just thinking about them gave you headaches. You continue down the halls, with a couple of maids walking behind you who don't care for you either. They never really liked you, so they just followed you as their job ordered, even you wouldn't want to be with yourself, you were a bitter mess. 

"Please leave me alone, okay? I need air" You turned around stopping at the entrance towards a balcony. They look at you confused but they care so little about you that they better bow and leave, you on the other hand headed for the nearby balcony, stretching your legs and leaning your body against the marble railing.

Looking down at the ground, you let out sighs and snorts, then unleash your usual attitude of resignation and rebellion, only being alone you can say or do the little you can, the little freedom you had.  

 "Fuck those fucking nobles, I didn't even want to come— Fucking loudmouths, they're just vultures hoping I'm wrong, honestly... GO TO THE FUCK THEM ALL!! That fucking housekeeper, the emperor and the fucking empress!.... Anyway, I hope this day ends soon"

You let your head fall on your shoulders, looking resigned to your situation, you were sick of following these stupid rules. A lady doesn't do this, a lady doesn't do that— You are at your limit and yet you can only complain to yourself or suffer your punishments. 

Your eyes unconsciously looked at parts of your body, you bit your lips in frustration.... Those scars still hurt, but you had to bear them because that made you a princess- Although honestly you always had that doubt, Did princesses really do that? In your stories it was something else. But laughing, remind yourself that they are just that, stories annnnd, since you were a child you didn't know who you were before coming here, you were always told what to say or do, as you were foolish and naive, you blindly followed in fear of that damned bitch of an empress. 

You were the puppet in her theatrical play, used and punished if something didn't go her way. Sometimes you wanted to kill her, but you'd rather keep your neck in your body. No one would help a dirty blood like you, a stupid girl with no connection or power whatsoever plus your stupid insignificant elven powers weren't even strong you could only heal scrapes or make little lights because according to rumors; your dead mother wasn't a complete elf. 

"These heels burn so much, maybe I should throw them away... But that damn woman will punish me if I do. It's a real shame my birthday sucks and the weather is so nice, which is ironic because I'm a mess."

You drop your body onto a nearby table, playing with your fingers, you didn't know at what point you started to fall asleep. 

While you were dozing on that table, lost in a kind of dream, you began to feel like you were floating in the air, reality became a dream and vice versa. At some point you opened your eyes in a strange place, it was all white and there was only you, but your body was shining, as if the stars had given you their remains to make you shine.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the giggling of a little girl, a very familiar one, that hair and tattered clothes were familiar even though you couldn't see her face. 

"Hello? ... How strange, I swore I heard something-"

You scratched your eyes thinking you were still hallucinating. You had just fallen asleep and didn't know how you got here. 

"Haha... Nyum!"

There it was again, that childish giggle attracted you again, then turning towards where it came from, you saw a completely white silhouette standing in the middle of the void. 

"Hey girl, what are we doing in this place and-? Wait!" You exclaimed starting to follow her, as she started to run, the emptiness started to change. 

The more you ran, the more it changed, the ground felt soft as you now stepped on clouds. Tall mirrors filled your vision like a maze, then again you heard the girl's giggle. 

"Haha! You can't catch me.."

Your eyes followed her silhouette in confusion, she was as energetic and elusive as... You, from childhood. You didn't know why, but you began to follow her, all these hallways of mirrors reflected both figures. 

"Girl don't run! Ugh, just tell me what this place is, fuck I just wanted to sleep and I ended up here!"

Sighing tired from so much running, you stop to rest, however something caught your attention; some mirrors were worn or broken, others simply had nothing to reflect. 

And the farther away you went the darker this place became, you two glowed as the darkness swallowed you. Then you see her entering a specific mirror, it was full of thorns and wilted roses, this place was silent, her giggling stopped being heard, slowly you went towards that mirror. 

"That girl- How strange, she took me all this way just to see this mirror?"

You whisper without understanding this strange dream, if it was one to begin with. 

So lost were you in your thoughts, that you don't even notice when your hand goes through the mirror and you are swallowed by it, unlike others, this mirror is dark as much as the the glass it was made of as its withered wooden frame. 

Screaming as you fall, you feel the air seep into your tresses shaking and making a mess of it, your dress suddenly changed as you landed in a brutish thump.

With pain in your body, you slowly got up spitting grass, that strange fall made you feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Slowly you could stand up on your own feet, you were without shoes which seemed strange but what did you expect? This dream is strange in itself. 

"I must stop getting so much in my head— come to think of it, where did that mirror take me?"

You turned around looking at your surroundings, however the girl glimpsed out of the corner of your eye again, laughing at you and making you angry. 

"HEY COME BACK HERE YOU SHATTERING BRAT!"

Now you felt like the empress every time you yelled at the silhouette. Fuck! Some habits stick with people. 

She kept running into the mist of this dark forest, with you following behind her, the branches on your feet and the wildlife of the place making you scrape, but it didn't matter. You wanted to know how to get out of this place. 

"Jijiji! I'm faster than you..." Whispered the brat, her silhouette running and when you finally came out of the dark forest, the light filled her eyes blinding you. When the effect passed, you stopped thinking for an instant, this whole place was magnificent and magical, but the girl was gone. 

In its place, the vast tulip field filled your view, in the middle of it and far away on the hill, lay a beautiful oak tree the size of the most pompous castle presumably held by royalty. 

Mesmerized by this magnificence, you walked down the hill, it was a few more meters but something guided you to the oak tree. The closer you got, you heard a deep and melancholic voice singing.

Its beautiful whistling caught your attention, the closer you got the better you saw someone's back and— That little girl sitting next to her. 

Never thought that you would be Standing here so close to me There's so much I feel that I should say But words can wait until some other day

Both were relaxing on a chair made of wood and flowers as a handle, the stranger kept singing; for some reason his voice gave you a familiar but pleasant peace, you didn't know why or how, but you keep watching them swinging. 

It's been a long, long time Haven't felt like this, my dear Since can't remember when It's been a long, long time You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you Or just how empty they all seem without you

The wind was blowing away the colorful petals of the field full of those tulips, you standing still in the tall grass, mesmerized by the whistling of that stranger, still looking at the girl, they seemed so comfortable with each other.

It's been a long, long time It's been a long, oh long time

And then that song stopped, breaking like a spell as well as your illusion, for just as the figure turned, his face could not be seen for he silenced you, causing thousands of tulips to cover your vision. 

"WAIT PLEASE! Who are you—" 

With an abrupt silence, you were left in the emptiness of before, broken glass halves scattered on the floor surrounded your feet, the girl was gone, only you and that hall of mirrors remained. 

Sighing, you pick up several pieces and your fragmented reflection looks back at you.

Your thoughts stop when you feel someone pull you out of that place and your eyes open as you feel the pain of a slap. Your eyes immediately went to those responsible for that: The maids in the service of the empress, who don't even look sorry for having done such a thing.

"Hey, you know you shouldn't sleep like that in public, you should be ashamed of yourself? What if the nobles gossip about you? hahahahaha." 

You clutched your reddish cheeks due to the hard slap, you growl silently wanting to do something but you just bit your lip in anger and swallowed it with 'dignity', which was the only thing you really had left; nothing belongs to you nor did anyone in this palace seem to take your position seriously.

You are just an ornament for the empress and a sack of potatoes for others to vent their frustrations. You had nowhere to go, if you left they would surely kill you, because the dirty blood should not live. 

"Please, couldn't you be less rude, Tsk! If you were seen slapping me, wouldn't you go unpunished? I'm still the emperor's daughter. It's frowned upon for a commoner to hit a noble, let alone royalty like me" You sneered with measured sarcasm, if they wanted to pull shit against you, you'd mess with them, it's all or nothing.

Your joke made them turn pale, the other maid behind gasped and took a step back. The one who slapped you swallowed as she quickly pulled herself together. They did not want the wrath of the empress if such rumors began to circulate, their necks, and perhaps yours, would roll. 

"You should be grateful princess because I have not yet reported your attitude to our noble empress, be good and we can forget about this incident" They said with a smile on their faces, the other nodded his head as the speaker held his face confidently, as if he had all the power in the situation, but his eyes reflected the fear and falsity of his words.

If they did that, they would pay more than you, a simple spanking would not be mere punishment for commoners like them, on the contrary for you, who you would be 'disciplined' for your indecency as a noble, 

However, you were interrupted by the empress's housekeeper (that damned boot-licking spy) She advanced towards you and all the maidens present bowed in fear, the two in front of you also trembled. 

"Now ladies don't make a fuss in the middle of the balconies and princess let's avoid making a fuss, please if you are not going to do anything at the party then go back to your room. As for you as maids, you have permission from the empress to discipline her, but don't overdo it..." She looked at you with cold condescension, as if she were superior. Biting your lips, you force a smile crumpling your dress in anger but swallow it all, smiling politely and standing up, wiping your dress and bowing.

 "Thank you, I will follow that sage advice, as you always know what to do, with your permission." Annoyed and frustrated once again, you left in anger and your footsteps echo loudly through the empty corridors of this place, listening to the maids laughing at you, as always.

Those damn maidservants, they always had something to say, didn't they? Laughing and talking behind your back every chance they got. Then there were those damn nobles, they were all the same, looking down on you. They always had something to comment on, whether it was your looks, your status or how you behaved. In the end you were just a trophy to them. A princess just to show off, nothing more.

Your thoughts were diverted by the sounds of the party, soon the second waltz would begin. But even if you were to go there, you would not be welcome, which is silly and ironic because this party is for you but no one actually congratulates you, the bitch empress steals every birthday you had, only to receive praise for her benevolence towards you... A bastard with dirty half elven blood.

 "Phew, at least this day is winding down." 

You sighed again as you vaguely thought about your dream, but you were more curious about that stranger, you didn't understand why he sent you back to reality, nor did you know why that girl led you there. In the end you walked down the hallway ignoring the lights and the drunks, it was like that every year, just nobles inflating their egos and gossiping behind each other's backs.

Hallways full of drunks were nothing new to you. Every year the parties ended the same as the others, with drunks and gossiping nobles. You couldn't wait for it to end, you always found it exhausting and annoying. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of the hallway with all these drunken fools around you... Surely there were some fucking and eating with lust around. 

"Hello princess!" 

A voice called out behind you, one you sadly recognized from all the years you had lived in the palace living with the nobles.

The stupid, disgusting son of Marquis Duboff, that dog rather than a man, always insisted on touching you and then complained when you refused. Snarling at fate, you tried to run away from him but he grabbed your hand and cornered you on the wall almost going out to the stairs. "Come on princess! Don't be like that, the other time I saw you flirting with other men, maybe the little slut can't help strutting around and wanting to fuck cock? You can't fool me, I know you like it—!" 

Drunk breath filled your nose, you wanted to vomit. His smell and everything about him disgusted you, so when he held your wrists, you kicked him in his private parts, you were irritated beyond belief.

"Tsk! When are you going to understand that I HATE YOU? You're a garbage existence, so.... If you'll excuse me, m-a-r-q-u-i-s!" With those words, you fixed your dress, you could be cheeky and follow orders for your own survival... However, you weren't going to play along with his games, that human excuse was a stubborn and pathetic being because you didn't want to call him a man when the vacancy was too big for him. 

This one knocked you down putting his hands in your hair, you in defense tried to shake him off but in the end between pulls, he knocked you down hitting you in the face and calling you an ungrateful bitch.

The blow threw you to the ground and to the side, sending you stumbling into a wall, you almost died if you fell badly down the stairs. You clutched your cheek as a groan of pain escaped you and, of course, the pathetic bastard was still standing there mockingly.

"You're not going anywhere princess, even though you act like an ungrateful bitch...I'm sure you'll soon come to your senses when you see that I can be gentle..." 

He sneered at you as he looked down at you from his elevated position holding an entire bottle of wine. His smile grew as he took a step closer to you, striding over and drinking. 

Then he started fighting you when you pushed him back wanting to leave, and he had the audacity to call you a spoiled brat, when IN YOUR LIFE! You've had some of that, anything you wanted was squashed and used as an excuse to make you less or crush your spirit. 

"STUPID BITCH!", you hear him yell as you poked his eye with your fingernails, in an attempt to stop him from taking your clothes off. He finally smashes the bottle on your head, making you blurry and blood dripping from your wound. 

You couldn't stand it any longer and you ran away crying, not out of sadness or helplessness (maybe it was that, but you would never say it out loud) but mostly it was rage, pure and undiluted. You felt pathetic, a fragile doll that broke for someone else's enjoyment.

"Fuck all of you... Ick! You guys are assholes" You clench your fists drawing blood from your wound with a torn piece of cloth from your now torn dress and head to your room, well, those fancy furnishings and decor really couldn't be called a room, it wasn't yours to begin with, just a guest room modified to mimic that of a room for royalty. 

Still, you decided it was better to go to your old, dirty and abandoned 'room', which was just the basement where they kept junk and rusty weapons. As you enter, you close the door, dropping into a crouch and hugging your legs, enclosing your face in your dress breaking that elegant facade into sadness and anger. 

You were exhausted and tired, very tired of everything, of everyone. Running away from the damn marquis, from the empress, from the nobles. You just wanted to be free, to be happy and find a place to just... be, instead of being a princess forced to live in a damn box and be judged or belittled for every little action.

Sighing as you sat there in that dusty old room, tears streaming down your face as you hid in your dress, you continued to wander in your thoughts. You felt alone, cut off from anything good or happy in this damned place, if there was any happiness in the falsehood of nobility to begin with. 

Your snot was running from your nose, your makeup was smeared and you didn't care at the time, you just wanted it all to be over. Sometimes you were angry at your dead mother, you blamed her for your useless elven blood running through your veins. You would even cut yourself to try to get it out and stop being a dirty blood, but all you get were injuries with punishments from the empress, you honestly don't know when was the last time you smiled or if you ever did, 

You wanted to keep hating her, she's a mother who never saw you grow up, but you didn't want to be like them, just another human, someone who pretends and discriminates against others just because. It would be hypocritical of you to do so, but sometimes you just want to scream and hate them freely, but it's stupid to do that and you just put your anger aside.

"It's useless, everything is the same every year, what did I expect this time? Mother, is my existence wrong? They just use me and throw me away when I'm not useful. I'm getting tired, how much longer can I go on with this performance?" You cried rubbing your eyes and wiping your smeared makeup with your dress, it was ruined anyway. 

Your eyes wandered around the room, looking at old dusty furniture and consumed by time, now they are blurred memories. If you think about it, in the past for some reason, you used to write letters to someone, hoping they would take you away from this place, but those hopes are ephemeral like happiness. 

You continued to sit there and cry, your feelings of hopelessness and anger pouring out. The makeup on your face was ruined, but you didn't care, it would be just another reason for the empress to call you a savage, mocking you. 

The zero memories of your childhood or the existence of your mother, your life here, everything came over you. It was very hard to face it all, very hard to hold out hope for any kind of happiness for yourself. After all, you were nothing more than a princess in a cage.

For a moment, the sensation you felt in that dream made you think of the stranger, and the memory came to mind, the magical and serene sight. It is contrary to how you felt now.

The moonlight illuminated the old dusty room, your eyes for some reason went to the old table, many broken drawings on it, for a moment you saw yourself as a child writing right there, however something blinded you like a light in your eyes. Curious you get up going to the table, the last time you were here living and sleeping you were exactly 11 years old, so you had left everything the same as when you left. 

"What the hell—?" Your gaze went to the pieces of paper, then moving them you coughed through the dust that was released after years in neglect and, shaking it with your hand— A strange piece black as darkness received you, the one that has accompanied you in your life since you are conscious until you forgot it, and if not for today you would still be in oblivion of its existence. 

Then, when you took it, an energetic discharge came from the tip to your head, giving you headaches and like a vague memory, you were pulled towards that vision, but it was blurred, what you knew was that you were in a forest. Your hands were small but you did not control this memory and this childish body.

Your ears perked up as you heard your own voice laughing, but it sounded more animated. Sometimes you think the current you is so different from your childhood self, less bitter and miserable. 

"M■□ll■s-sama, it's unfair that you always let the human win!" 

Another voice interrupted your diatribe and in turn you recognized that it was male, of course with a youthful and scandalous touch. A familiar laughter made you open your eyes in this dream(?), then that stranger whose name you did not fully understand, answered the other man, strangely you did not see who they were, because in this memory you were still hiding behind a tree.

"S□b■k, don't be hard on her, besides I don't want to make her feel bad, my ■□■■■□ is important" Your giggles kept coming out as your eyes made you expectant in this strange dream, just sharing vision with this uncontrolled childish body. The strangers behind the tree, shrouded in mystery, continue to argue. 

'What are they talking about?'

You thought to yourself, not your dream self, just your current self. Strangers are still looking for you, you looked like you were 5 years old by the size and high pitched giggles you let out. And that was before you came to the palace, what was not clear to you about this situation and your past self which you didn't remember much, so you are not understanding anything.

The two voices kept talking as the you in this memory peeked out for seconds, unable to really see their faces due to the speed at which you were hiding. You were looking from your childhood perspective, hiding in a tree and laughing to yourself, it all seemed less difficult if you thought about it. The other two males seemed to be looking for you, still arguing as they looked around the area.

Your childhood self seemed cheerful, again you wondered if she was really you or if she was just a past fragment. You looked happy, as if you were having fun playing some kind of game with these strange men. What were they talking about, and why did it seem so familiar, you didn't know, but it hurt your chest to hear yourself laugh. 

Since you came to the palace the childish games were over; so seeing this broke you in a certain way. Then you felt big hands taking the shoulders of your childish self, you laughed and named the stranger, but again the seemingly important words or names were cut off and erased, fragments remained of that stage of yours, which you did not know. 

"T■un□■ta□■u! hehehe you found me.... You were 3 seconds faster, though it's unfair because S■b□k always complains" Your words and voice were lively, sweeter and in comparison to the bitter words for this life you were leading. The stranger whose face was covered by the sunlight because you were in his arms, his shadowed face looked at you, his fanged lips smiled at you. 

His fangs glistened as a smile broke out on his face, laughing at your childish words. His voice was soft and warm, but no less gravelly and elegant, almost like the glow of the incandescent sun on you in the dream.

"You were well hidden, I could hardly find you. But I know your usual hiding places, little ch□■dr□n ■□ m■n." He said with lightness in his voice. One of his big hands moved to stroke your head, tousling your hair as he said this. Even though it was hidden behind the blinding light of the sun, you could still make out its outline....

It had a rather strange silhouette, horns coming out of its head and long wings behind it, something you only saw in forbidden books.... A dragon, but it didn't make sense that it was humanoid. 

In fact this whole situation confused you, unfortunately you came back to reality when the darkness swallowed you and you fell to the ground with a sharp blow, the dragon's scale no longer shining as brightly as before. You got up carefully, you were a mess in every sense of the word if you looked at yourself in a mirror. 

Picking that thing up carefully, you wonder if this is what made you see that. Are those your memories from when you weren't here? But it didn't make sense, the empress said she found you with two elderly brothers who were farmers, so why - why were you having these weird flashbacks? 

You sat on the old bed, holding the dragon scale in your hand and looking at it. Your head was throbbing and your thoughts were a mess. That vision... it was so vivid, like a memory... But how could it be a memory? You come from those farming families, the empress herself had said so... Though knowing her character, she could lie to you as she did about your mother's death. 

Those two men in the vision, you couldn't make out any details about them. But why did you feel so close to him in that dream? Besides you had already seen him when you fell asleep on the balcony, is everything connected...?

"Phew, I better go or I might get punished... But I can't leave this here, if they come to clean up, which is rare, they might see it, maybe I should take everything left of this old place" You put the dragon scale in your secret pocket inside your breasts, just when you were about to leave, you also saw the letters hidden under so much trash and dust. Some were torn and some were stained with ink. 

Your look is nostalgic, really when you were a simple and silly girl you didn't know how to hide things. So you took them, on your way out you took caution in looking both ways down the dark subway corridor and when you saw the shores clear, you left.

You exited the subway, making sure that no one was there, before leaving. As you did so, you returned to your room as quietly as possible. You hoped that the party was over and everyone was too drunk to notice your absence... 

As you walked through the halls, your mind kept thinking about that memory, if it was one. You had so many questions about it, about your past self and who you really were before you turned 6. It was so clear, so real... But who were they? What if... Was it all a strange fantasy of yours? Now you have a faint fragment of hope in you, even if it's vain and selfish. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the empress waiting for you in your room, you panicked hiding the old letters and anything suspicious, she looked at you with false elegance and the lunar shadow did not help your fear to diminish.

"W-what are you doing here? I thought you were with the emperor"

You whisper avoiding looking at her, she stood up, unaware that there was your faithful maid. A maid who barely entered months ago and quickly befriended you with insistence; but that doomed her like many. Now she's dead on the floor, again you lost another ally, though you tried to prevent anyone from coming to you, trying to be nice when you couldn't afford that, it's a weakness the empress would exploit. 

Said woman continued to look at you with a cold stare, the false elegance on her face unchanged.

"Watch your tone of voice, princess." He said in a cold voice. His cold green eyes scanned you, observing your ragged and disheveled appearance with an almost mocking look on his face.

"I heard about what happened between you and the marquis earlier, my dear." You swallowed bile cursing everyone and her for that false sweetness in her voice. She took a step towards you and her tone quickly changed to a higher pitched one.

"You know how much I despise it when you embarrass me like that."

Her hands went to your bare, messy shoulders, your hair was ragged and that only added to her condescending tone, mocking your messy appearance. You bit your lips, she knew everything, she always does. You're more sure that damn dog Duboff made a fuss complaining about you, you just expected the worst in situations like that.

 "W-what's wrong with it, Your Highness? I only defended myself, or are you afraid of rumors? For example... That you don't take good care of me, and even if I AM THE EMPEROR'S DAUGHTER! You still treat me badly-" Her nails finished digging into your skin as a warning but you were so fed up that you continued.

"And yes I did, I don't give a damn anymore anyway, that dog deserved it! He's a scumbag, he wanted to abuse me, hahaha you don't even care about my image, only yours and your ego-Urgh!" A slap echoed in the empty room. The empress snarled with a contorted face, you laughed internally as you watched her lose her composure, she was a fucking bitch to you. 

It was quite satisfying to see the empress lose her composure in this way. Her face contracted in anger, a complete contrast to her normally reserved and cold demeanor. She had just slapped you, leaving a red mark on your cheek.... but you couldn't help but laugh at this. Seeing her lose control like this was almost funny.

The empress snarled at your laughter, the anger and irritation clear on her face. She moved closer to you, grabbing your hair and tugging on it. 

"How dare you talk to me like that... You're a dirty bastard blood!"

The empress's face was now contorted with anger, frustration and humiliation. After all, how dare you speak to her like that, especially at a party meant to celebrate her benevolence? You should thank her for even existing, but here you were like a brazen rat. 

"You ungrateful, insolent bitch!" She spat, tugging at your scalp and grabbing your cheeks hard so you could look her in the eye. 

"How dare you speak to me like that, I who have given you everything! Your position as princess, your meals, your clothes, let it be clear to you that you are inferior to me, without my help the emperor wouldn't care about you!"  

"... I didn't want to be this! Do you know how many nights I starved to death just because you and those maids wanted me to? You don't know anything, my life is not really mine but I'm running out of patience, even when I wanted to run away, you didn't let me... I begged you, but no more!"

"You're a-" Her hand reached up to hit you again but when you tried to pull away she only abused you more until it hurt all over, then complained about your rebelliousness and savagery.

He continued to prattle on about your insolence, debating whether he should kill you or not, but decided to leave, only punishing you by locking you in the room and ordering that no one was to come in or go out to feed you for a week. 

You got up when she left, she might as well kill herself and you wouldn't care. After a while, you changed your clothes after a relaxing and decent bath, no insults or dirty water. You were self-sufficient enough, since you were treated like a maid when you first arrived, you did everything. 

At the end of the night you lay staring at the letters on your bed, those letters written by you that for some reason you don't quite remember why you did it. "Ahh... what a day this was." 

You were left in your room, alone once again. The empress had left you with a burning cheek and a week of hungry solitary confinement. But it didn't matter, you were used to it.

With slow steps to the bed, you plopped down on the bed and then settled in, your eyes drifting to the old letters scattered on the bedspread. They were written in childish scribbles, but somehow they had some meaning. Why did you write this? And to whom? You had long forgotten the reasons behind it... You had priorities, like not dying for that woman's whims. 

With nothing to do, you decided to read them, starting with the one with the oldest date and paper. The letter began somewhat disorganized, it read like this:

March 23, first date of the solar calendar.  'It happened again today, I miss you Tsunotarou so much..... Mairy yelled at me again, you know, I know I'll never give you these letters but I hope someday to see you so I can read them for you, although I think it's more for convenience.  Nobody wants me here, I shouldn't have run away from home, Uncle Lilia was right. Humans are not the same, much less easy to understand. They are like me, physically they are but they don't act like I thought they would. Everyone says I'm a dirty blood worse than a commoner, Sebek was right when he said we are bad, but I'm not like that.  

Your expression softened but mostly out of confusion and the feeling that comes from reading this. So that's what the nickname you were talking about in the dream was... That silhouette was Tsunotarou? You didn't know but your head hurt thinking about it and even for some reason you got stuck trying to say that nickname, but still you continued reading.

 April 16 of the solar calendar  'I'm very sad, I hardly remember Uncle Lilia anymore, I'm very afraid. Tsunotarou... what if I forget you too? I don't want that, so I'll keep writing letters, so maybe my adult self will read them, I hope everything gets better, because today they made me mop the floor and the housekeeper punished me for something I didn't do. The older maids threw water and cow dung on my floor, when I had already cleaned it, I really want to come back to you Tsunotarou'.

Your expression became somewhat inexplicable, you felt the tears fall again for no apparent reason, you did not understand this feeling. Perhaps compassion for your previous innocent self, who was hurt and crushing your spirit to become what you are today.

The cards only continued to get worse. Your past self was young and innocent, so full of optimism and hope, but instead was only met with suffering. She was treated like dirt, forced to do tasks she wasn't cut out for, and others around her bullied her...and no one did anything to stop it. Your heart ached as you read the letter from your past self, and tears streamed down your face as you read it.

You clenched the letter tightly in your hand, your heart felt heavy in your chest... You didn't know if you wanted to keep reading because you were honestly so devastated by the constant abuse you've normalized, but reading all this just makes you feel sorry for yourself. 

Still, you catch a glimpse of one letter in particular lying on the corner of your bed, it's crumpled and musty as if it had been wet. Trembling you pick it up reading it and it just opens up another memory you had blocked out for yourself.

XX December of ... ??? 'Tsunotarou... I no longer remember why or why I am writing this, who are you, that I am writing this to you? I don't know, maybe it was all a dream and you, Tsunotarou whoever you are, don't exist. Last week I was caught trying to escape, but I don't remember the reason for it. Honestly it's all confusing so I'll stop writing these meaningless letters. I just know I've been hiding them, so I have to respect that about myself.... Well, this is goodbye. 

Now you remember! This is the last letter you wrote, you only know you finished it because of the first line, that nickname, you wrote it weeks before and you don't remember much. Suddenly your head starts to hurt and you get a lot of cut memories that make you cry in pain.

As you read that last letter, you were hit with a flood of memories. They came back vividly, but it was still a little fuzzy in your mind. 

You remembered why you wrote the letters. You were writing to him, that man you played with in the woods in your dream. You remembered him... and you remembered his nickname. Tsunotarou. Even the mere thought of it made your head throb. But as the memories slowly came back, you couldn't help but sob at the truth of all the events and the realization of it. 

What little you know of this is due to the only clues you had. With determination, you were determined to seek the truth behind your whole life and your lost happy childhood, so these days where the empress locked you up, you would flee through the secret corridors you had discovered in this room since you lived in it. 

Wandering the aisles of the library in the middle of the night, you were looking for books on magic or creatures of that kind, which were burned years ago by the wars, it was hard to find them. 

Despite feeling so tired, your heart was beating with determination. You knew you had to find the answers behind everything. It was time for you to find out the truth about your past and the real reason why you were here. You had so many questions running around in your mind....

But it was already late and you could already feel the tiredness invading your body after searching the library, so you walked with your books in hand through the corridors until you reached your room. With a tired sigh, you lay down on your bed, thoughts still running through your head as you slowly drifted off into an intermittent sleep...

And so for the rest of the week, you went to the basement to see if there was anything else but there was not. Then you rummaged through the housekeeper's room finding the strange bag that you now had in your room, in front of you. 

There was a strange old stuffed animal, some exotic flowers you didn't know about, a map crumpled and yellowed from years but most surprising were the many dragon scales in a jar. 

This was definitely yours, but why would you have this here? It didn't make sense and besides there were 2 books downstairs, one had drawings of 4 men, three of them with pointed ears and one was like the silhouette in your dream, with horns. 

The other was a human like you but wore a uniform; also, the second book had strange spells in it. The spell book was like the few pieces of page you found in the library on the hidden side. Thoroughly checking between pages, you saw a piece of paper with something written on it, there was also a drawing made by you most likely, underneath the apparent lullaby. 

Something about the drawing of the horned man seemed strangely familiar to you, though you didn't know why. Maybe there was a connection between him and that man in your dream... Curious, you read the writing on the paper, although due to the bad handwriting and scribbles on it, it was difficult to read.

You let go of the paper from your hands because your head started to hurt, a male voice echoed in your erased memories. It was a quiet place, a comfortable bed and finally you saw black tinted lips and fangs, he sang you that song but again, his face was blurred. 

You gripped the paper once again tighter, your head throbbing from the strange memory that came over you. The memory was fuzzy, but it was still clear enough that you could make out the vague silhouette of a man, fangs and lips tinged with black. He was singing that song to you, his voice soft and comforting.

Te agarraste la cabeza, tratando de recordar más, pero el dolor de cabeza sólo pareció empeorar. ¿Por qué tus recuerdos volvieron repentinamente a ti una vez más, y fue realmente Tsunotaoru, el hombre que te parecía tan familiar...? No lo sabías así que simplemente te volviste a dormir, cayendo profundamente

The breeze on your face welcomes you back, dazed you open your eyes seeing that you were now on a marble table near the oak tree. Confused you wake up and this time you see that you are not a teenager, more like a girl, this confuses you a lot.

Walking aimlessly, you hear in the distance in the same oak tree or further on, in the tulip field, someone singing, that same song you read in that paper.

I know you I walked with you once in a dream I know you That look in your eyes is such a familiar gleam. And I know it's true, that visions are rarely what they seem.

The tune was different, but undoubtedly it is the same voice and the same place as when that little girl in the dream led you there, the same person singing that lullaby. 

But I know you I know what you will do You will love me once and for all As you once did in a dream

You kept moving forward, the smell of flowers filled your nose and as if taking the place of the girl who you assume is your inner self, you continue moving towards the figure on the hill, standing among so many flowers looking at the sun.  

But I know you I know what you do You love me at the same time As you once did in a dream I know you I walked with you once in a dream 

The wind was soft and cool against your skin as you walked through the tulip field. The sweet smell of flowers filled the air and the sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the surroundings. As you continued walking, you heard that familiar song echoing in the air.

 "Who are you really?" you whisper in that childish little voice, this time you control this body and even if you expected an answer, there is only silence.

The closer you got, the more your heart pounded in your chest. And then, you finally saw it: a tall horned figure standing a few feet away from you.

Something in his majestic, magical and calming presence made you cry. At this moment you became a little girl taking the place of your inner self, now you just wanted to hug that man and run in his arms, like a game.

"Tsunotarou... that's what your name is?" those simple words made the horned figure look at you, with a slow step he walked up to you bending down to look at you.

The stranger smiled at you as he bent down to your level. He gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, his gaze warm and affectionate.

"Yes, it's me" he whispered in response. 

"I have missed you so much." This time your inner self spoke for you, since you wouldn't be able to understand its identity or the feelings it provokes in you, but you don't want to push it away either.

The man dressed in black hugged you tightly, squeezing you close to his chest. It was a protective embrace and you could feel the love and affection in his touch.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to see you again, the clues I left you in your dreams, do you still have doubts my little girl?"

You nodded as you let yourself be carried by him, all your stress or bitter attitudes gone. There is only you and that lost innocence. 

"Sorry if I don't understand anything, it's just that I forgot you and that frustrates me" This time you spoke from your heart, with the truth. Without lying to anyone much less yourself and he seemed to understand. 

"Everything will have an answer, but I've missed you too, I can't be near you because I wouldn't know how to control myself, I may lose control if I see you more than I should" His whispers sounded melancholy and plaintive, but deep down his tone threatened to overflow into madness and rage. 

"Then why didn't you come for me? I don't remember but I feel like I sink into a sadness thinking about you" This time he kept silent, his face you couldn't see but you felt the tension in his body. 

"...There were reasons beyond my power that prevented me from that, besides if I went after you I could have accidentally killed you in my rage looking for you."

Despite his words you felt disappointed with him, you still decided not to hate him, you didn't want to be a bad person, no matter how bitter you were. 

"I understand... But could you answer me something, why don't I remember you well? I know you had something to do with me however, I don't remember, much less know who I was before what I am now."

The strange man again took your face in his hands and you saw why you couldn't see him, there was a mist blurring his face. 

"I don't think it's time yet, but I assure you that in a few weeks you will know... Until then, I will see you and answer your questions, my little daughter of man. Because we saw each other in a dream-" 

You wanted to keep asking but he kissed your forehead and you fell into a dream within your dreamlike sleep, finally waking up hyperventilating. 

"... Fuck I couldn't ask him his real name."

[elhanoka]

why is heesu like that？

I love heesu in class 2 and I love heesu as a character. I know some might find him annoying especially because he doesn't notice seongwon's feelings but heesu's pov is so very understandable to me. I too have a special connection with the moon and watched a lot of TV shows as a teenager escaping from the real world and this experience gave me the illusion of knowledge — it felt like I understood different kinds of people, their dynamics and relationships with each other. so from time to time I treated the very real people around me — my friends, classmates and family — like characters on my screen. it was unintentional and i wasn't aware of it, I was simply trying to understand their personal and especially romantic relationships so that I could understand myself without really putting myself out there.

my relation to heesu goes to the point that I too had a best friend who was the most beautiful girl I've ever known and she dated guys, not as frequently and absent-mindedly like chanyoung but still it was evident that I will never have the same treatment and will remain her shadow. it's one thing to have a low self esteem and live your life trying your best and another to constantly have someone you love by your side who seems to get all the validation you desire so easily and not think too much of it.

and we know that chanyoung is not perfect — he's struggling with perfectionism and his father's expectations, he even dated all those girls from a good place — essentially he just didn't want to upset them. and heesu knows all of that but from his pov chanyoung will always be better than him, more deserving than him and always enough.

I don't think the show has so far explicitly stated that heesu has a low self-esteem but it's clear as day to me — because I was him. and simply being acknowledged by your "perfect" BFF, being their support system, their advisor, their therapist, their whatever feels so very nice — because it's the only validation that you're getting, the only attention you care for. and these feeling double and triple if you are queer AND have a crush on said BFF. you're so hyper focused on one person it really takes a life-shattering event to even notice anyone but them around you — like them starting to like someone FOR REAL for real. because in this case your importance to this person slowly starts to fade and you're forced to consider yourself as a separate person — as a lonely and empty person you perceive yourself to be. and it's sad and strange and scary. being lonely and scared as a teenager is normal but queerness adds another layer to these feelings, amplifying the degree of being different. the fact that heesu could only start feeling like himself when seongwon told him about his lesbian moms is so real because not being judged means so much — because even if seongwon might notice his imperfections, he will not hate him for being himself.

[havocskies]

SO HM, since i always imagined brian having a sister, is that alright to write headcanons OR just write ramblings about how Brian would've treated his sister after finding her and that she accepts his dark side since she ain't right in her head as well ?

tags : platonic , murder , stalking , anything that goes along w brian i guess 😭

yes !! i’ll use this as a sort of follow up to my last writing as well, just for more background. i think he’d be ecstatic to know he has another sibling just as fucked up as him. he’d want to introduce you to dexter, to add you into his plans of them killing together.

he’d get even closer to you as well — he’d have likely been close to you before (if he met up with you before knowing your mental state) but a sibling being as horrible as him would only make him even more affectionate and trusting

all he wants is some sort of connection, someone who truly understands his motives and enjoyment for killing.

he’d love to have you help with kills, to come up with plans that entertain you both.

he’d even teach you things you hadn’t known before, like how he preps his kills for dexter. he’d want to show you how important their (and now your) future is.

he’d tell you about dexter often, talk about his memories (with or without him, his stalking still counts as memories in his eyes) in hopes that you’ll get just as attached to him as he is.

brian would even help you with your first kill — if you haven’t had one already. he’d likely pick someone easy to steal an identity from, because he knows you’d need a new one if you really wanted to stick with him.

he cares about you deeply, and is admittedly very protective. he knows you could take care of yourself, but it fills a hole in him to act as a protecting brother.

he’d likely become increasingly obsessive of you, especially since at the moment you’d be the only one really understanding him.

he’s relieved to have someone around him that’s just as messed up as he is, that won’t judge him for what he does.

all he needs is some sort of understanding.

he loves killing with you

he loves giving fucked up advice in the middle of the kill, which in no doubt terrifies the poor victim.

he constantly has pointers, has amused little quips he sends your way as he watches your work.

normally he likes to leave you to yourself, to watch how you handle someone, but he loves even more to join in.

in his mind it’s some sort of fucked up family bonding, but he doesn’t care. it’s bonding regardless, and that’s all he truly cares about.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 115 (Getting Cozy With New Friends?)

The events of this post occurred after New Year's Eve at the Salty Paw (Generation 2 Pts. 106 and 107).

After an eventful holiday season, Heather Nesbitt phoned her youngest sister on New Year's Day. Hazel checked the call display and forced a smile. "Hey Big Sis, what are you up to?"

"Hey, Little Dandelion. Just watching the Holiday Yule Log on repeat (totally autonomously) before I do some bookkeeping for the clinic. Helps me focus, and they haven't taken it off the air yet this year. How are you doing?"

"Pretty awful," Hazel admitted. "I'm sorry we just left without saying goodbye last night. We were too busy giving each other the cold shoulder all the way back to Henford."

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you got home safely, but I know things between you aren't okay. I think we all hoped things would get better after you talked on Winterfest Day."

"We didn't really talk. We skated and went home and just didn't fight for a few days."

Heather frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hazel shook her head. "Not right now. I want to have a nap and then get out of the house for the night. It's weird being here surrounded by her family all the time. I feel like her mother and brother are constantly judging me."

"They love Nicola like we love you," Heather said. "But she shouldn't talk to you like she does. You don't deserve it. I'm willing to bet that a lot of what she's going through isn't even really about you."

Hazel sighed. "I just make it all worse."

Heather loved her baby sister and would always support her, but she never would have advised Hazel's next move.

To end a New Year's Day where Hazel spent as much time avoiding Nicola and her family as possible, she found herself drinking screwdrivers at the pub that night. She was alone, again, until she met Suri Romeo and flirted over drinks until well after midnight.

When the pub closed, they continued with a stroll along the River Bagley. The place near the village green, which had earlier that day been packed with locals for the annual Polar Bear Swim, was devoid of any lamplights, but Hazel could still make out Suri's smile in the light of the moon. "Are you happily married, Hazel?"

She didn't want to answer and pulled Suri in for a kiss. It felt electric - nothing like the kisses she shared with her wife. Not now, and maybe not ever.

But she thought of Nicola back home, probably asleep and snoring a little. Her wedding vows meant she wasn't supposed to do this, and she pulled away with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "My wife."

Suri nodded with an understanding smile. "I'm living with my grandparents at their farm in Old New Henford. Call me when you figure out some things."

But Hazel called Suri long before she had anything "figured out," inviting her to the first Finchwick Fair of the new year. "I have to be there with Mayor Varner, but it's really a great opportunity for you to live like a true Henford local," she told Suri, and they met outside the village green on a sunny winter afternoon.

"Did your wife not want to be here?" Suri wondered.

"She's grading papers and the Finchwick Fair isn't really her thing. She loves gardening, but she hasn't done much of it lately." Nicola recalled the woman she used to know with some regret before quickly brushing it away and returning her focus to Suri. "Here, I saw this video that made me think of you. It's a cat, but he's a chef. It's called ChefCat!"

They were interrupted by friendly Mayor Varner, who was happy to meet anyone in his town at any time. "Hello there! I'd never miss a new face!"

"Mayor Varner, this is Suri Romeo. She's just moved to town to learn to be a great chef from her grandmother, Clara Bjergsen."

"Ah! The Bjergsens are wonderful citizens! And your grandmother's baked goods are the reason I'm out of shape."

Suri smiled. "Hopefully one day I'll be just as good as she is."

"You'll have a wonderful mentor. Welcome to town, Miss Romeo!" He turned to a starry-eyed Nicola. "How are those new year's reports coming, Hazel?"

"I should be done this week, sir. It's a lot of information to put together."

He frowned. They both knew he'd expected those reports on his desk last week, but the work was a drag, and he'd given her too many previous extensions. She forced a smile for her boss.

When it got a little cooler, Hazel and Suri went inside the pub to warm up. They danced to some holiday music still playing on the in-house stereo, before Hazel pulled a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling. "Laura must've forgotten to take this down with the rest of the Winterfest decorations," she mused, but she held it playfully over her head anyway. Suri laughed, leaning in to kiss her quickly on the lips.

Hazel glanced around. The bar was mostly empty with most patrons enjoying the fair outside, but they knew they shouldn't be spotted doing what they were doing.

They continued to see one another in secret, hanging out at the community garden in Old New Henford to get to know one another. Suri told Hazel about life growing up in an apartment in San Myshuno with her parents and brothers, and about visits to Henford to see her grandparents and aunts every summer. She even told her about her mother's cousin Olivia, who was a basketball star at Foxbury Institute.

Hazel was happy to talk about her family - her parents, her sisters, her brother, all her in-laws and nieces and nephews - but not her wife. And she knew her friendship with Suri was dangerous. She wanted Suri all to herself and didn't want her wife to know anything about her.

As the snow melted beneath her jacket, Hazel would cloudgaze (even in Henford's mild, sunny winter climate) and imagine herself with Suri. Not Nicola.

She knew marriage counseling was the best course of action, but when she looked at Nicola, she didn't want to do it. When Suri entered her life, she could finally admit to herself what she'd tried to mask for years. Hazel was no longer attracted to her objectively beautiful wife, and no amount of counseling would bring her feelings back.

She grew increasingly careless in her time spent with Suri. She told Suri she wanted out, but conversations with Nicola these days always ended in tears. She didn't tell anyone what was going on because she knew they'd tell her to be better. To talk to Nicola, to end things with Suri before they went too far, to be a bigger person. She'd lost her will to care about any of it.

On Sportsball Sunday, Hazel wanted to go to the Gnome's Arms to watch the game. River had invited her to her childhood home, but Suri would be at the pub. She was getting ready to go when her girlfriend surprised her at home in the Bramblewood.

"What are you doing here? I was just leaving."

"I came to tell you my little cousin Jada heard at school that you and I are seeing each other."

Hazel froze. If kids at school were talking about Mrs. Moody-Nesbitt's wife having an affair, then... Sure enough, Nicola met them in the yard with a churlish grin.

"Oh good! You're both here, so I only need to get mad once before I forget either of you and leave while Hazel packs her things."

Hazel was quiet, letting Nicola unleash a torrent of disappointment at her affair. "It kills me Hazel. I wanted a family with you. It's all we talked about for years, but then I lost my dad and you cheated. And I found out at work, which is so embarrassing! My schedule was never the problem when it came to counseling. I worked the same schedule every day, I came home - you're the one who always had somewhere else to be."

Hazel was defeated and ready to leave, and she apologized for embarrassing her. "I shouldn't have been with Suri behind your back, but what are we really salvaging anymore, Nic? I'm sorry."

Nicola scowled. "Oh, you're done? Hazel, I already got the divorce papers from the courthouse. Sign them and get out of my house."

Though Nicola put on a confident facade while she took the initiative to end their union, they both left the marriage with regrets. They could have tried harder, if they were really meant to be. But more than anything, they could have waited to get married. Maybe then they'd never have married at all, and their differences wouldn't have been so hard to take.

And now, with the sunny weather betraying their broken hearts, Hazel Nesbitt and Nicola Moody-McMillan had shared their last cozy celebrations together.

How would each move on from here? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

The answers to that question! Nicola's next chapter begins here as a contestant on Dating Deanna, a reality TV series debuting in January by @changingplumbob, where dozens of contestants will compete for the heart of beautiful bachelorette Deanna York.

Hazel lives with the Nesbitt-Gordons for now, so we'll follow her story with Heather and her crew in Sims In Bloom!

This was hardly cozy, but I've written a couple surprise bonus posts for tomorrow/my Christmas Day that are much more fun, and they finish off the reward event with a lot less angst and drama!

NOTE: For the record, I believe in working on a marriage, but Hazel and Nicola's compatibility was awful once Lovestruck patched in. They truly grew apart, not at all together, and didn't have enough desire to put in the work to save their short-lived marriage. Then Hazel met Suri and they were flirty and got along so much better, so I figured she and Nicola might both be happier without each other and they divorced.

While Hazel has a potential someone, I was trying to think about what to do with Nicola when Dating Deanna was announced. I thought this was perfect because now I don't have to plot her next chapter, and if she doesn't win Deanna's heart she'll return with new lore and backstory to write for.

I know she has few fans these days and that's fine! But when she's with the right person and not cheated on (entering a bachelorette competition could really test her), Nicola will put in the work. She's too good and family oriented not to. Hazel, on the other hand, should possibly reckon with why she chose to cheat and not leave...

[shan-yee]

𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗 + « 𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚔 »

𖦹𝘙𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵

𖦹𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𖦹𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 = Sexual allusions, misogyny, arranged marriage, occ Bi-han ?

𖦹𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 = 1081

𖦹𝘈/𝘕 = i'm sorry for the wait anon- but here you go !! I had practically no info for Dark!Bi-han so I tried something, hope you like it.

𖦹𝘈/𝘕 2 = English is not my first language, please let me know if you see any mistakes ! Enjoy ✨

——— 𝐒 𝗨 𝗠 𝗠 𝗔 𝗥 𝗬 • • •

𝐈 :: 𝘽𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝐈𝐈 :: 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚

« ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ »

╰─► 𝐈 ･ ｡ﾟ☆ 𝘽𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜

⇰ Dark!Bi-han is actually not that different from Bi-han in some aspects, well almost, just like Bi-han, Dark!Bi-han would surely marry to obtain power or in other words, lands, men and a possible heir although he is not a fan of thinking that one day he will no longer be able to lead the Lin Kuei.

⇰ I don't really see him falling in love, he would be far too obsessed with the desire to lead his clan to victory, those feelings are useless for him. His role as leader pushes him to put aside his humanity and, he never complained about it.

⇰ He doesn't care what his wife looks like, as long as she is faithful and fertile, for the future, he has nothing to complain about. He is neither looking for a sidekick nor a partner.

⇰ He is not affectionate or kind, he wants respect and submission from everyone, he will also want his wife to stay in her place and listen to him wisely. But, to be sure not to be betrayed, he will still be gentle at certain times, making sure to have influence over his betrothed.

⇰ He will not want to have sex before marriage, in fact, he has never really been interested in sex or anything related to it, too busy with his responsibilities.

⇰ Dark!Bi-han is also quite old school, wanting a good little woman who stays in his place and knows how to take care of their house and him even though he doesn't really need it.

⇰ He believes that he is old enough to take care of himself but he will never say no to a massage or a good dinner.

➽─────❥ Fear was the only emotion that had guided her actions for several days now, her fingers were trembling constantly and she could feel cold sweat running down her spine. She had the impression that everything she did was being closely observed and judged by a force that she was unable to describe, except for coldness, sometimes.

Everything had happened very fast, « too fast » she would have said if anyone had asked for her opinion.

Several men had arrived and requested to see her father, he didn’t make himself wait and the young woman had never seen him so terrified in her entire life. And yet, he had seen many things in his life...

A few hours later she learned that she was now engaged, sold, to the leader of the Lin Kuei, a group of ninja, or rather assassins whose name she had frequently heard.

She had not even been able to see her future husband, having been sent directly to her apartments after the announcement of their arrival. Great.

╰─► 𝐈 ･ ｡ﾟ☆ 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚

⇰ Firstly i have some things to say about the wedding ceremony. I think there are two scenarios, the first, Dark!Bi-han wanted a big wedding to show the extent of his wealth and everything he managed to acquire without the help of people. Although the people invited were not relatives and only important people, chancellors, kings of foreign countries and other clans, I can assure that some people ended up freezing at the end of the ceremony.

⇰ Second scenario, a simple and traditional wedding, simple in the guests and location but he will not hesitate once again to show off his riches and you will find only good quality, whether in the clothes, food and others. There will only be the very close family of his wife and some of his men, and the ceremony will finish quickly, without speeches or other dispensable things.

⇰ during the ceremony he will not let any emotions show, a bit like usual. He will also not wish to honor the famous tradition of « you may kiss the bride ». But I can say that his lips are cold and slightly cracked, he is not the type to really take care of himself —except for his hair which is very precious to him— having been naturally born with an advantageous physique —he knows it— i don't think that he would have been the type to really take care of himself if he hadn't been spoiled by mother nature anyway.

⇰ I can see him coming home in the evening and being delighted to see that his perfect housewife had prepared a magnificent meal for him. He will sit at the table with her and listen to her talk about her day in silence, responding with a simple nod or word.

⇰ A few years later when everything is stable he will agree to start talking about inherited potential. He doesn't particularly dream of being a dad, in fact he never thought about it until now.

⇰ In the bedroom Dark!Bi-han doesn't really think about his partner's pleasure, he is dominant and will never let himself be dominated by anyone, especially not a woman.

⇰ Once or twice he will tie his wife's hands with his ice, preventing her from touching him —he will do it because she tried to touche him without his permission before—.

⇰ Temperature play ! Dark!Bi-han is cold, his whole body, but particularly his hands and his tongue. He will have fun running it over his wife's stomach and chest, looking for reactions here and there.

⇰ His hands will hold the young woman's hips and in the process he will let frost spread on his partner's thighs and hips, don't worry it won't stay !

➽─────❥ His cold hands wandered over the young woman's flesh, he felt her skin roll and quiver under his frozen palm and fingers. A slight moan escaped [Y/N], not yet used to the touches of her, usually, distant husband.

She then felt Dark!Bi-han's cold and slightly damaged lips, her stomach contracted under the sensation as her toes retracted. The black haired man chuckled discreetly, moving closer to her lower abdomen and soon towards her pubis.

The young woman spreads her thighs, without really thinking about it, her body reacted on its own to her husband's kiss, which seemed to satisfy him. He finally reached her pubis and his fingers grabbed the edges of her underwear to pull it down and throw it on the floor.

Grabbing her thighs, Dark!Bi-han placed them on his shoulders to immerse his head between them. He wasn't the type to take care of his partner but she was a good wife and she deserved a reward from time to time.

[janeyseymour]

Enchanted

I was working my double shift at the restaurant when Enchanted by Taylor Swift came on, and this was born...

Summary: Ava begs you to go to a school event. You dread the night, but you quickly find that you're enchanted to meet a feisty redheaded teacher there.

WC: ~1.8k

Ava, your best friend, is currently begging you to come to one of the events she has to attend for her school.

“Please, Y/N,” she pleads. “If at least fifty people don’t show, my ass is on the line! This is the first job I actually like!”

“What do you even do there?” you chuckle. “I see you go live on Instagram constantly.”

“I’m running a school and being an influencer!” she snorts. “Please, Y/N.”

“What can you offer?” you ask as you file your nails.

“After, we can go out to the clubs?”

“I’m done drinking for a while after the last time we went out together,” you roll your eyes.

“I’ll… pay for your next manicure?”

“I’m getting a new set,” you grin.

“Whatever,” she groans. “Just show up to the school by seven so I can count you as a head.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Your favorite pain in the ass, otherwise you wouldn’t have stuck with me all these years,” the principal rolls her eyes.

“I think I got stuck with you, is more like it.” The truth is, you had grown up with Ava as a neighbor. Your families often had dinners together, and even splurged on one big ‘family’ vacation together when the two of you were thirteen. It was the best week of your life, and you really don’t know where you’d be without the spunky and full of live woman by your side. 

So here you are, at Abbott Elementary, for some sort of fundraiser- and it isn’t one that you particularly wish you were at. Sometimes, Ava came through for this school and knew how to threw a child-friendly party, but this is clearly not the case with this one.

You’re engaging in friendly conversation with Janine and Jacob, forcing laughter and faking your smiles. You glance over to where Ava is interacting with one of the sponsors, clearly schmoozing them.

“Oh, there’s Melissa!” Jacob grins. “Melissa!” he waves the woman over.

Not expecting anything, you turn to glance at the woman the history teacher is calling over, and the vacancy that was in your eyes as you listened to Janine drone on immediately vanishes.

The two of you lock eyes as she crosses the room to greet her coworkers. There’s a spark in her eye that whispers, ‘Have we met?’ and you can’t help but smile at her as she makes her way over.

“Melissa!” Janine grins.

“Hey, kid,” she replies without taking her eyes off of you. Then she directs her words towards you. “Melissa. Schemmenti. You are?”

“Y/N,” you tell her softly, hoping she doesn’t hear the waver in your voice. She’s taking your breath away.

“Why’re you here?”

“I- Ava’s my best friend. I’ve been to a few of these fundraisers,” you tell her. “But I’ve never seen you around. Are you a new teacher?”

“If working here for the last twenty years is new,” she playfully retorts. You catch her eyes glance at your outfit, memorizing it. “I need a drink. You want one?”

You nod, thankful for an escape from the two younger teachers. You follow her to the bar.

“Lemme guess,” she looks you over again. “Seltzer girl?”

You can tell in her voice that she might judge you if you tell her she’s absolutely correct, so you shake your head. “I was actually thinking a Yuengling tonight.”

“Pretty and has good taste in beer?” she looks impressed. 

You turn nearly as red as the woman’s hair. “It’s just a Yuengling.”

“Didn’t strike me for that though,” she shrugs before ordering two beers. The two of you clink your bottles together before taking simultaneous sips. “Easy on the eyes, likes a good beer… friends with Ava?”

“Not by choice,” you quickly remark. “More like stuck with her since we were five.”

“I didn’t realize you were the same age as Coleman,” she notes. “You look much younger.”

“My secret is that I don’t work with kids,” you joke.

“That would do it,” she chuckles. “I had gray hair by the time I was twenty five from working at this school.”

You find that you really enjoy talking to this Melissa Schemmenti character. She finds that she loves that you’re able to keep up with her quick remarks and can usually deal it right back. You spend the night in a corner with her, tossing jokes back and forth, and it’s almost like you’ve been passing notes in secrecy during class. 

“Y/N!” Ava calls as she makes her way over to you. You have to bite back a groan at your friend for interrupting this time with perhaps your new favorite Abbott teacher. “Melissa! You came!”

“Been here for two hours, Ava,” the redhead rolls her eyes.

“I see you met my bitch,” the principal raises a suggestive brow. She knows you’re into redheads, and she also knows that you’re exactly Melissa’s type- a hot, quick to remark, decisive woman.

“Not your bitch,” you stick your tongue out at your best friend.

“You’re here, ain’t you?” she grins. “My bitch.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” you tell her for the fifth time that night.

“Yeah, but you love me,” Ava chuckles.

“Do I?”

“Well, if you don’t love me, who do you love?”

“I am painfully single, and you know it, Coleman,” you roll your eyes. Underneath your tough exterior though, you know the question of ‘Who do you love?’ is going to linger in your mind for the rest of the night.

Melissa subconsciously licks her lips. So you’re hot, you drink a good beer, you know how to give it right back to Ava, and you’re single? This just keeps getting better and better for her.

“You could have anyone you want. You’re just picky,” the principal retorts. “Anyway, this party is lame, so I was thinking we ditch it and go out!”

“You’re the principal,” Melissa reminds her. “You have to stay til the end.”

“Who says?”

“The superintendent who is already hellbent on trying to get your ass fired,” the second grade teacher remarks.

“Shit, girl,” your best friend groans. “You’re right.”

“I also already told you I was done drinking for a while.”

“You have a beer in hand,” Ava points out.

“Well…” you shrug. “Melissa asked if I wanted anything to drink, and I figured I could handle a beer. I will not be able to handle fireball shots like I know you want to take.”

“How much longer does this go to?” the redhead asks.

“Til ten, so… an hour longer.”

“I’m gonna need another beer.”

The redhead stays until everyone clears out, keeping you company. You truly don’t want this time with her to end. 

Ava heads to her office to grab your things, and you sigh when you realize that your time with Melissa is quickly coming to an end.

“It was really nice to meet you,” you say quietly to the woman who’s stuck by your side all night.

“Enchanting,” she smiles back at you with a wink. She grabs her bag and heads out. You watch her as she goes. You really were enchanted to meet her.

“So, Melissa,” Ava wiggles her eyebrows as she locks her office.

“We were just talking,” you roll your eyes. “Can I go now?”

“Yeah, just let me know when you want to go get your nails done,” she tells you dryly. Then she gives you one of the softer looks that she usually only reserves for those who are especially close to. “And seriously… thank you for coming.”

“Once again, I’m stuck getting you out of ridiculous situations,” you joke with her.

“Like it’s your job,” she quips.

“I’ll give you a call soon,” you tell her as you turn on your heel.

You’re laying in bed, Ava’s question running through your head for the thousandth time this night.

Who do you love?

You glance at the clock, and 2 AM is staring back at you. Jesus Christ.

You wonder about who you love until you’re no longer tired. You love your family, you love your friends, you love Ava… but who would be the one that you truly love and want to spend the rest of your days with? You have no idea. All you know at this very moment is that intoxicating redhead that stood by your side tonight is in your head and stealing all of your thoughts.

Giving up, you get out of bed and head into your kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. You’re pacing back and forth as you wait for the water to heat when you hear something that sounds sort of like a knock on your front door. Your brain tells you that you hope it’s Melissa- but realistically, you know it’s that stupid tree branch that hits the window when it’s windy out.

You let yourself fantasize about what it would be like to open the door and her standing there. You imagine that all she would say is a simple, ‘hey’. It’s past 2 AM now, what else would she say if she showed up at your door?

All you know is that you were enchanted to meet that gorgeous second grade teacher. You had blushed all the way home that night thinking about the different things that she had whispered to you- her jokes, her snarky remarks, that infectious laugh where she would throw her head back and bring her hand to her chest. A night that you had dreaded ended up being flawless. You wonder if she felt the same way. Maybe you would have to ask Ava for her number. No, she’s probably in a relationship- someone like her would have to be. There’s no way she’s single. But you let yourself think about what it could be like with her. 

As you settle down on your couch, you wonder if there are any more events that are upcoming for the school. Hopefully, you would be able to see her again- that tonight was the very first page of a new chapter in your life, and not where the storyline ends with that woman. You know she’s going to be on your mind until you see her again, or at least get to hear about her through Ava.

You mentally kick yourself for holding back what you had wanted to say to her as you were leaving. You should’ve asked her for her number- if she wanted to meet you for dinner or another drink. But you didn’t. Because you didn’t know if she was in love with someone else. If she had somebody waiting on her. 

Maybe you’ll ask Ava about her another day. But for now, you quietly whisper, “Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting for you.”

Part 2