#it seems like half the time they don’t want to treat you unless you’ve been sick for at least two weeks

[raeathnos]

.

[lilyevansisamilf7]

You’ll Be Okay - Remus Lupin

Warnings - angst, remus and reader are really close, remus has bad taste, reader is described as a whore, alcohol

Summary - Remus and reader have been friends since they were kids, when remus gets a girlfriend, things go south

———————————————————————

You’ve been friends with Remus since you were eleven, when Mulciber and his gang of Slytherin friends made fun of your glasses - and when Remus said that you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever met you knew that you’d found a friend for life.

That’s all you were to Remus. A best friend. Even if you wanted more.

And for a while you convinced yourself he wanted more. The constant sleepovers and overly affectionate nicknames, the cuddling in the common room - for merlin’s sake even Lily asked if you guys were dating, and you blushed and stuttered that you weren’t and he’s just a friend.

Just a friend. Even if you needed more.

So you couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt when Remus came bounding into your room saying he had a date - a girl in the year above, Sarah Coles.

“Can you believe it love?” he says smiling wide, “She wants to go on a date with me”

And he’s just so excited that you pretend you are too, and ask around about this Sarah. Just to make sure he would be safe, obviously, for no other reason at all.

So far you’d found that:

- She was a seventh year

- She was a half-blood

- Most people say she’s pretty nice unless she doesn’t like you

- She was beautiful

That’s what hurt the most. She was everything you wanted to be the most. She was model thin and blonde and beautiful and you were just you.

It hurt even more when Remus announced it was official. And it nearly killed you when he started missing plans to hangout with her.

———————————————————————

After weeks of barely seeing Remus it was finally time for a Gryffindor party, after the most recent quidditch win. You dressed up in a new dress, something you’d treated yourself to in hogsmeade recently and were dancing the night away.

Until you stopped to get a drink, and your heart stopped.

“How are things with you and Remus babes?”

You stop and listen.

“Great, though they’d be better if that whore of a friend of his stopped following him around all the time and don’t get me started on the petnames and sleepovers” She laughs, “You’d think she’d realise he doesn’t want her”

And your heart sinks to your stomach. Before you know it, you’re grabbing a full bottle of firewhiskey and walking back to the dancefloor.

Safe to say you don’t remember much after that.

———————————————————————

You didn’t see Remus much after that, constantly trying to avoid him. When you did see him it was different - there was no more cute petnames or sleepovers, even when neither of you could sleep the days after a full moon.

It broke your heart to see that your departure from his life didn’t really affect him that much.

But you’d never know how much he was affected. From the beginning, Sarah had been against your guys friendship, saying it was disrespectful to her. So he respected her boundaries but said he’d never cut you off, that you were one of the most important things in his entire life.

And she seemed okay with that. Until she wasn’t.

She kept telling him how a good boyfriend would listen, and if he loved her he’d cut you off and Remus began to worry - he didn’t want to lose her but he didn’t want to lose you.

And when you disappeared from his life he was confused. When you didn’t turn up to your monthly sleepover after the full moon he began to worry you were upset with him.

He really began to worry when you started drinking more at parties. Like Lilys birthday party, where you were dancing and stumbling across the floor, until you stumbled into him.

“Sorry” you hiccup.

“Hey” he laughs steadying you by putting his hands on your arms, “How much have you had?”

“Not enough”

You place your hands on his chest and push yourself away from him to go get another drink, but his hand grabs your wrist and pulls you back

“Whoa there love, I think you’ve had plenty”

“Your girlfriend won’t like you calling me that” You slur poking him in the chest

He just stares at you confused. You hiccup again.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I thought you’d appreciate not being followed around by your little whore” You giggle bitterly and walk towards the dancefloor. “Now i’m gonna dance”

“Then I’m going to dance with you love” He follows you out to the dancefloor and stands behind you

“I thought you hated dancing”

“Yeah I do”

“Then why are you” You face screws up in confusion

“You love to dance” He shrugs “And I miss you”

You try and ignore the swelling in your heart and turn your face back away from him to hide your blush, slowly beginning to sway your hips to the beat.

His hands find their way to your hips as he aways with you and you fight the urge to shiver and blush more. Your moves aren’t fluid from all the alcohol but you freeze completely when Remus leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Talk to me love, why’re you ignoring me?” He whispers “Did something happen, is everything alright? Was it me?”

You turn to face him, looking up towards him.

“Remus..” You look into his eyes “It’s not you”

He looks down at you and whispers “See that’s what I mean, you never call me by my full name”

You giggle lightly “I’m too drunk to have this conversation”

“Maybe”

You look down, biting your lip, now not dancing at all. Your heart freezes however when he grabs your chin, leaning your head up and pulling your lip from your teeth.

“Don’t do that” He whispers “You’ll get all bruised”

Unable to control yourself, you both become lost staring at each others lips. That is until…

“Remmyyyy” She whines

You instantly take a step back “Duty calls for you I guess”

He looks down at you and tries to pull you back in, “Stay”

“She doesn’t want me here” The weight of your words sinking in for Remus “So I’m gonna go to bed” You giggle.

“Are you gonna go back to ignoring me?”

You take a breath in.

“You’ll be okay”

You turn around and walk up the stairs, eyes turning glassy with unshed tears, smudging the eyeliner you begged Marlene to put on you.

———————————————————————

The next couple of days were hell. The realisation that you weren’t going to see Remus anymore broke you and your friends knew it.

Little did you know, the realisation broke Remus to. He couldn’t believe he let some girl ruin the best thing in his entire life.

The door to your dorm burst open, Remus standing in the doorway out of breath.

“I need to speak to you”

You sit up in bed, trying to smooth out your hair and fix your puffy eyes.

“Does Sarah know your here?”

He scoffs “Fuck Sarah”

“Well what you do in your spare time is none of my business Remus” You giggle slightly.

“Can I sit?” He points to your bed where your still sat

“Of course”

“I broke up with Sarah this morning”

Silence fills the room for a second.

“Are you okay?”

“At the party, you said I’d be okay” He looks down at this shoes.

“Yeah and?”

“I dont want to be okay without you” He whispers.

Your breath hitches.

“I don’t think I know how”

You turn to face him, sat cross legged on the bed.

“I’m not everything you are Remus”

“Yes you are” He looks in your eyes “Ever since we were eleven and you were being made fun of, it’s been you. You were the prettiest girl in the world for me”

“I know i’m not the prettiest girl anymore Rem” You giggle

He leans his forehead on yours, placing his hands on your cheeks.

“You’re not getting it love” He chuckles “I’m so sorry it took me almost losing you to realise this”

“Realise what?”

“This”

And all of a sudden his lips were on yours, pulling you in by your cheeks, one hand reaching into your hair. Your arms wrap around his neck moving closer to him, smiling into the kiss.

After a moment he pulls away. His forehead resting back on yours.

“I was gonna kiss you at that party”

“I wanted you to” You giggle biting your lip slightly.

He runs his thumb across your lips and pulls it from between your teeth.

“I thought I told you to stop doing that” He whispers.

“Guess I forgot” You smirk.

He smirks and leans closer to you, putting his hand on your waist.

“I’m staying in here tonight”

“No objections from me” You giggle

[dark-frosted-heart]

I Love You, I've Sinned - Azel

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

One day during my stay in Tanzanite, I wound up becoming a servant to God—

Emma: Prince Azel…Is it true that you deliver divine punishment to people?

When I asked Prince Azel about this after handing him something he had me fetch for him in town, rather than giving me his usual smile, he scowled. 

Azel: What did you see while out in town?

Emma: There was theft in the market today. The criminal was immediately captured by a passerby—

~~ Flashback ~~

Male onlooker: How dare you…Never did I expect that there would be such a ruckus in God’s own land.

Female onlooker: You will face divine punishment. Our Living God will not forgive you.

~~ Flashback end~~ 

Emma: —It seemed like everyone, the thieves included, feared “divine punishment”.

Azel: Absurd.

Emma: Have you ever threatened people across the country in the past?

Azel: That slander deserves some reparations.

Emma: I can’t say anything at all can I…

Azel: Don’t talk nonsense unless you want to experience divine punishment for yourself.

Emma: Ah, so divine punishment does exist.

Azel: Who knows?

After checking what he had me get for him, Prince Azel placed the jute bag in a corner of the crumbling ruins.

The temple which was supposed to be the Living God’s home, was as shabby as ever.

(Prince Azel’s a two-faced god, so it’d be scary if he actually did deliver divine punishment…)

Azel: Have you ever sinned?

Seems like Prince Azel’s in a good mood if he’s continuing the conversation even though he said not to talk about nonsense.

Emma: Probably…not

Azel: You’re lying.

Emma: Why do you say so?

Azel: Because no humans are without sin.

Emma: …Wouldn’t that mean everyone’s been imprisoned before?

Azel: Has anyone ever told you how empty your head is?

Emma: This is the first.

Azel: Have you never been exposed as an idiot before?

(You have a response for everything…)

Prince Azel leaned against a wall in the shade.

I followed suit and took a sip of water out of my flask.

Azel: Only acts that violate the law aren’t sins. Sins are actions that deserve God’s divine punishment.

Emma: So only God has control?

Azel: Is that so bad?

Emma: …No.

Azel: Simply put, anything you think you’re guilty of is a sin. Surely you’ve also been guilty of something to some extent. Whether it’s telling small lies, hiding things from others, or doing something to hurt someone unintentionally… As long as you’re alive, it’s hard to avoid them.

Emma: Well when you put it that way.

(Then, looking back, I probably have too)

(Sins that I need to apologize for…)

Azel: Confess your sins to God, and through receiving divine punishment, all will be forgiven. Perhaps that’s why people seek God…How laughable.

(Hm?)

Mysterious, starry eyes look at the flask in my hand.

Emma: …I’m not giving it to you?

Azel: Stingy.

Emma: I don’t want to hear that from a greedy god.

Azel [polite]: Ahhh, then at this rate I will dry up and die.

Emma: …

Azel [polite]: For a human to treat a god so cruelly…That’s god abuse.

Emma: …

Azel [polite]: God abuse is a felony and the charges cannot be compared to any that has existed to this point—

Emma: OKAY! Then in exchange for the water, please forget that the reparations demanded earlier ever existed.

Azel [polite]: Of course. Thank you very much.

(Can’t believe you put on the god act in times like this…)

When I handed Prince Azel the flask, he started drinking immediately.

(I don’t mind giving him water, but…does Prince Azel care at all?)

Feeling restless somehow, I turned my gaze away from the mysterious god and toward the ruins.

(...)

(If god abuse is a sin, then…)

(There’s one guilty sin I remember)

--

—That night.

When I came to, I found myself in place with half-bloomed roses.

(I’m here again…)

The usual dream in the usual place, but today, there was something unusual.

At the end of the countless paths stood a figure.

That person sat improperly on the oak table where a book usually was, and as I walked down the path, he turned from the large full moon in the sky toward me.

Azel: We ran into each other in a dream? …Give me a break.

Emma: That’s my line. It’s not like I enjoy running into you either.

(I heard that dreams have some deep psychological meaning, but…)

(I wonder if seeing Prince Azel means he’s occupying my mind that much)

(...That being a good or bad thing’s another story)

Azel sat on the table with one knee up and looked down at me cheekily.

It was like the dream world enhanced his mysterious, inhuman appearance.

Emma: …You’re not here to deliver divine punishment, are you?

Azel: If you’re feeling guilty then maybe.

Emma: …

Azel: You are.

Emma: Who knows…

Azel: Sins are forgiven when you confess. It’s easier to let it out than to suffer in distress, that’s just how it is.

Emma: …

Azel: Say it, then. If you seriously ask for forgiveness, then I’ll deliver divine punishment to you. …It’s not a free service though.

(That’s why he’s so oddly assertive)

Emma: Nevermind then.

Azel: No, ask for forgiveness. Or else this dream won’t end.

Emma: That’s a threat!

Azel: Talking back to God like that’s asking for more to be added on to what you owe.

(...If Prince Azel wasn’t a real god, then I could ignore him)

Tanzanite’s living god was a true god, recognized and revered as sacred throughout the continent.

Even if the face he showed me was different from the face he showed the public, I wouldn’t dare to ignore God’s word.

Emma: …Will you listen without getting angry?

Azel: That depends.

Emma: To tell you the truth… The other day, I saw you taking a nap. Even when I got closer, you didn’t wake up, so… …Out of curiosity, I played with your beautiful, silver hair.

Azel: …

Emma: I’m so sorry! But it felt really nice to touch!

Azel: That’s a grave sin.

When I tried to run away, Prince Azel lept off the table and stopped me with a hand on my shoulder before jabbing my cheek.

Emma: Please stop! The jabbing really feels like you’re going to hollow my cheeks out!

Azel: Accept your punishment. I noticed your eccentric behavior though.

Emma: Then why didn’t you wake up?

Azel: I wasn’t in the mood to entertain you.

(A very Prince Azel-like reason)

When he finally released me, I rubbed my cheek.

(Even though I suffered…my heart definitely feels lighter)

(I can’t let him off easy…)

Emma: Have you ever sinned, Prince Azel?

When I asked the question in retaliation, he shrugged in exasperation.

Azel: How could a god sin?

Emma: At it again…

Azel: If there’s no one to punish it, then it’s not a sin. If neither man nor god can punish me, then no one can punish me for my sins.

Emma: …

Azel: Perhaps one day God will commit a mortal sin. When that time comes…I wonder who will sit on the Throne of God and punish me.

Prince Azel’s mutterings melted into the dream space.

(That…doesn’t sound like a joke…)

Emma: Leave it to me. If it needs to be done, I’ll do it.

As if to dispel the mysterious aura around the god, I made a proud declaration.

Emma: I hope your cheeks will be able to stand it.

Azel: That doesn’t sound like a big punishment to me.

Emma: Stay complacent while you can. I have a mean slap.

Azel: …No one’s asking you to slap me.

Emma: If it doesn’t hurt, then it’s not a punishment worthy of being divine punishment.

When I pretended to slap him, Prince Azel smiled condescendingly. 

However, there didn’t appear to be any ill intentions behind the smile.

Azel: If God were to sin, then it would be a sin on a different level from humans. Possibly enough to wipe out an entire country. Punish that sin if you can…Actually you might do that.

Prince Azel looked up at the glittering moon in the dream world.

I still wasn’t sure about the meaning behind that melancholic look on his profile.

[bella-goths-wife]

What if the Vees accidentally killed Pet during one of their punishments? I know only angelic weapons can kill them, but this is a “What if” scenario. Maybe make them hellborn?

What if the Vees accidentally killed pet (not canon)

Warnings: usual abuse, violence, death, drug use, Vs don’t grieve normally at all, character deaths, descriptions of corpse

Vox:

If we’re using human logic that sinners can die instead of canon logic that sinners ain’t killed but are just temporarily gone unless angelic weapons are used, then we’ll assume that sinners can be killed in similar ways to humans but maybe higher power levels required to kill

With this logic in place, I think that Vox would probably accidentally kill you during a punishment out of his jealousy of yours and alastors past connection with alastor almost purchasing your soul before Vox

Most likely he’d be using his usual punishment method of using his electrical abilities and the soul deal the two of you have to send electric shocks down the soul chain

Only the jealousy would heighten the amount of electricity used and in this case would kill you

Vox wouldn’t notice you were dead for a good few hours, assuming it was one of your usual blackout spells that you usually got after electrical punishments

It’s only he tries to shock you awake and you don’t respond that he realises you’ve died

Voxs mind would be split into two halves

One half thinks about the fact that he’s murdered you, the person he views as his daughter and the person he wanted to keep hidden away and protected more than anything

The other thinks about how angry he is that you had the nerve to die, how dare you? You were meant to be a loyal pet and now you’ve abandoned him like this?

Vox holds your dead body close in his arms as he debates in his mind what he should do

He carries your corpse to your bedroom and lays you down in your bed and treats you almost childishly as he tucks you in and hums you a song

Your room would become your grave as the vs leave you in it to be able to visit your corpse in an attempt to deny that you’ve passed away all together

They’d leave your corpse to slowly decompose and wouldn’t let it deter them from visiting, even in death you weren’t gifted dignity

It’s only due to his powerful position within the vees that Vox is allowed to live after killing you

Valentino and velvette still hold resentment though and have many plans to overthrow him and change the power dynamics

Valentino:

Valentino would have probably been most likely to kill you during a drugging punishment

He would have miscalculated the amount he gave you, causing you to overdose painfully

His first thoughts would be how to cover up your death so that no one knows it was him, selfish as ever

He grieves in his own way I suppose

He was never really obsessed with you as a person like the other two were, he was obsessed with the forbidden aspect of you and your emotional reactions and he more so grieves the loss of those two pleasures rather than grieve you as a person

He’d make quick work of having your body disposed of, paying some lower level demons to hide it away somewhere before killing them after your body’s gone

If your body was ever discovered, he’d instantly set it up to make it seem like Alastor was the one to kill you by desecrating your corpse to match alastors other victims, an act that had him feeling a small amount of guilt but it was quickly washed away by the need to cover his own back

He knows that fuelling voxs hatred of alastor would have him distracted enough to never find out the truth

He can’t help but feel small amounts of guilt for how your death effects velvette and Vox though, with both of them being anger filled bitter people

They both notice how he’s more attentive to them during this time but brush it off

If it were ever discovered that Valentino was the one who murdered you, Vox would kill him

It would take some internal debate considering Valentino is his lover, but his obsession for you outweighs his care for Valentino

Granted Valentino’s death would be quicker then your own, which is quite ironic really

Even In death you were still lesser than him

Velvette:

Velvette would accidentally kill you by taking it too far in a beating and pushing you down only for you to break your neck on some furniture

Velvette is not a feelings person, but I believe her killing you could make her feel so much so soon that she just shuts it down completely

She’ll push the idea of your death so far down within herself that she’ll convince herself that your still alive

She’ll be so far in denial that she’ll even think she hears your voice talking to her

She’ll carry your body around with her, dressing you up like a doll and doing makeup on your decomposed corpse to make it look less noticeable

She’ll take you everywhere with her, talking to you as if you were still alive and even scolding you when she thinks your ‘ignoring her’

Of course Vox and Valentino notice very quickly

Vox is outraged that she’s killed you, Valentino not so much but still relatively angry

But then they notice how velvette had driven herself mad in her guilt and grief

When confronted and forced into acknowledging the truth, velvette would break as she’d clutch your body and sob angry tears

Vox and Valentino decide that she has to die

Partly out of revenge for you, but also partly to put her out of her madness and misery

Velvette would be killed quickly while clutching your body and what’s left of the vees would put the two of you in your room and treat it as your graves

This was a depressing one to make ngl 😭

This is deffo not my best work but oh well

[writeyouin]

LMK shadowpeach x foreign fem reader? Its readers first Christmas in China and wants to spend it with the monkeys! Got them a Christmas gift too that’s fitting for the three of them. For some cute fluff, she made some delicious treats from her home country (I probably would make them fry bread or fruit related sweets of the sort)

Sun Wukong X Macaque X Reader (Poly-Shadowpeach) – Chinese Christmas

A/N – So this went a myriad of ways in my head and I kept changing it, and now it’s super different to what I first thought was going to happen. Anyway, here’s the end result, and I got to do some cool research on Christmas in China which was really interesting.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

“Would you please calm down?” Macaque growled at Sun Wukong, annoyed since his partner was being more irksome than usual.

Granted, the pair had recently made up after all their years of fighting, but sometimes… Well, the Monkey King had a lot more energy than Macaque, and he wasted it in frivolous ways, always bouncing around and rarely bothering to stay still unless he was choosing to be inconvenient and lazy, in which case it was impossible to make him get up and do whatever was required of him.

Sun Wukong was equally displeased with Macaque, who didn’t seem to be taking his plight seriously.

“Calm down?” He wailed, his search continually frantic as he flew from mountain top to mountain top. “Who can calm down at a TIME LIKE THIS?! (Y/N)’s missing!”

Macaque rubbed his temples, feeling a headache begin to form. “They’re not missing, they’re probably just at their house or-”

“ON CHRISTMAS?” Sun jumped in front of Macaque, grabbing him by the shoulders and wrapping his tail tightly around the darker simian, “Not a chance! I planned everything for today. We were going to go ice skating, get some wrapped apples, sing karaoke, drink hot chocolate, go to that new noodle bar- There’s just no way (Y/N) would miss all that.”

“… Fine. If you must continue this inane search, could you use your gold vision and get it over with already?”

Sun raised a mischievous eyebrow and smirked, “And miss out on the fun of the search?”

Macaque sighed irritably, “You’re seriously having fun with this?”

“Well yeah. What’d be the point if I found (Y/N) immediately? It needs to be dramatic.”

With that, the Monkey King got back to his search, whilst Macaque stepped away to take a breather, and possibly to brood if the mood struck him; relationships were exhausting. As soon as he left Wukong, his sharp hearing picked up your voice at the bottom of the mountain.

“Shoot-” You said upon clearly dropping something.

Macaque smiled as a more forceful expletive followed, and listened more intently. Evidently, you were carrying something and your bag had split. He chuckled and took pity on you, waiting till you had recovered your items before casting out a shadow portal that brought you directly in front of him.

Having been ready to take a step that was no longer in front of you, you stumbled into Macaque’s open arms.

“You always trip,” He commented drily, “You think you’d be used to that by now.”

You smiled up at Macaque, pecking his cheek before replying, “I don’t think I’ll ever be used to that. You always do it when I least expect it.”

“Then you’ve got to learn to expect the unexpected.”

“If I did that, there would never be an unexpected event and my life would become oh so dull.”

Macaque began a witty retort, but he was drowned out by Wukong who hurried over to meet you, crushing you in a hug, clingy as ever. Whenever you were around, there was hardly a moment wherein he wasn’t holding onto you in some manner.

“Peaches!” He exclaimed joyfully, using your affectionately awarded nickname, “I knew you wouldn’t abandon us on Christmas. Where were you? You’ve already wasted half the day.”

“It’s only ten,” You protested.

“Yeah, well I would’ve been there for you at six if we were meeting at your place.”

That was a lie. If it was up to Sun Wukong to come to you, you knew that Macaque would have to drag him out of bed and that it would take him hours to wake from his sleepy state.

“If I say I brought presents, will that make it up to you?” You held up your bag; Macaque smiled when he saw the knot you had tied in the bottom to patch the split.

Sun immediately pushed you away to snatch up the bag, though his tail remained wrapped around your wrist.

“Share,” You reminded him, bringing Macaque back into the loop.

“Can we open these now?” Sun asked, already tearing at the gold paper which marked the presents meant for him.

“Apparently so.”

Macaque was much gentler with his sliver foiled presents. You hadn’t bothered to write any cards or tags. You couldn’t read or write Chinese, and your simian companions were equally unskilled in your native language. Instead, it was easier to treat them like the sun and the moon and wrap their gifts accordingly.

There were some generic little presents at the top of the bag, but soon your loves got to the gifts you had spent months lovingly crafting. Shawls, knitwear, and repaired clothing that both of them had mourned when damaged in battle made the bulk of the gifts. In a second smaller bag were the presents you had made fresh the night before. They were treats you missed from home, sweet breads, pastries, sugared fruits, and brandy snaps.

“Oh yeah,” Sun Wukong bragged, taking the first bite of a cream-filled sugar cone, “We’re going to have a feast tonight.”

“If we make it to tonight alive with all you have planned,” Macaque stated drily, though he spared an affectionate pat to Wukong’s head.

“All you have planned?” You asked, uncertain as to what anyone could do on Christmas Day when everywhere was closed. Alas, you were thinking of home, which differed greatly from China in many ways, Christmas traditions being one of them.

“Well, duh.” Sun Wukong placed a hand proudly on his chest and stood in a heroic position atop a newly summoned cloud. “Do you really think that I, Sun Wukong, the Monkey King and Great Sage Equal to Heaven would have anything less than a perfect day planned for my two true loves?”

“Funny,” Macaque chuckled, tying his new shawl around his neck, “I thought your two true loves were sleeping and making Wukong Dating sims.”

“Oh yeah? And what about you? You only love puppets and being all dramatic and emo.”

“And I love it when my boys don’t argue,” You said, stepping between them before their little spat turned into a contest which would inevitably lead to a fight. Granted, the three of you were a throuple now, but Sun Wukong and Macaque still had a lot of bad blood and unresolved history; some days were more difficult than others when they were learning how to choose love and forgiveness over anger and spite.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Wukong grinned and held you to his side, throwing his free arm up as if physically showing you the day’s schedule while he listed everything off.

Macaque approached you and took your hand gently in his, “Is that all okay? It’s probably a lot different to where you come from.”

You smiled bittersweetly, thinking about all the traditions you would miss out on and how Christmas was more family-oriented where you were from.

“It’s- It’s different to what I’m used to, but… I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I’m just happy to be with you two.”

At that, Sun Wukong softened. He stood in front of you, his tail curling around your waist, “Hey, we don’t have to do this if it’s too much. We can try your traditions if you want.”

“Next year,” You promised. “I want to see how you do things.”

Sun Wukong smiled at both you and Macaque. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He had spent far too long alone, and now he had two people he could spend the holidays with, and even more friends who you were all going to meet; he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[spaceshipellie]

hi erin cutie angel baby ♡૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

can I req for Abby + fluff and angst, like hurt/comfort + modern au, maybe like a high school or uni setting with the lyric

“and home’s not home unless you’re there”

fuck I love ethel cain, she is a creative and lyrical genius

“and home’s not home unless you’re there”

pairing: abby x reader

summary/warnings: modern university au, fluff, hurt/comfort, toxic friends

hi sugar darling, thank you for the req ♡ she is a genius!!

being at university was a breath of fresh air. it was the first time in your life you’d ever felt happy enough to truly be yourself. you felt harsh admitting it but your friends back home never seemed to really understand you and what you wanted out of life. you’d known them for years and over that time it seemed that they had all stayed close but now only spoke to you when they wanted to mooch off of your generous nature. and you being the people pleaser that you were, gave in to them more often than you wanted to admit. the life you had made for yourself at university felt more like home than your actual hometown ever had, and more specifically, she did.

you had been head over heels in love with abby ever since she’d flashed you her winning smile from across the room at a house party about eight months ago. she had waltz into your life with so much unexpected charm and warmth, it really showed you that there was more to life than making yourself amendable for others.

on this particular day, however, you’d been receiving messages all day from these friends and it had knocked you into a pretty bad mood. it was your one of their birthdays and you had suggested a spa weekend which everyone thought was a great idea but now, no one was helping to organise anything. they expected you to be in charge of booking it, driving everyone there, picking up the cake, and even though you had asked twice, half of them hadn’t transferred you the money for their share yet and it was this weekend. you were exhausted by it all and wished you’d never even bothered to suggest anything. the worst part was, the situation seemed to be causing some friction between you and abby. nothing major but you were so consumed with trying to do everything perfectly and had spent so much time anxiously planning out this birthday thing that you had barely spoken to her and when you had, you’d been quite short and inattentive.

later that day, you were sat at your desk, face in your phone, furiously flicking between the group chat and google. abby was leaning against the headboard of your bed reading. well, half reading, half looking over at your frowning face.

“do you wanna watch a movie?” she asked.

“mm maybe,” you responded, half-heartedly.

“or go for a walk and get a coffee? it’s really sunny out.”

“yeah.” again, your tone was as unenthusiastic as could be, eyes still glued to the bright screen like you were being brainwashed.

abby slammed her book shut and sighed, shifting down so her head hit the pillow.

“what’s wrong?” you asked.

“oh you’re listening to me now?”

you looked up at her. “what?”

“you’ve been ignoring me for…well, days. honestly how much more planning does this weekend need?”

“it’s not my fault they’re making me do everything,” you said defensively.

“you don’t have to, you know. tell them to do some of it, and have they even paid you?”

“no… but i can’t i’m already doing it now, it’s fine.”

“it’s not though. they’re walking all over you.”

“abby, i’m already super stressed about it i don’t need you making it worse.”

she propelled herself up at your frantic tone and stood behind you, placing her hands on your tense shoulders to start lightly massaging them.

“i’m sorry for stressing you, i understand it’s difficult but they shouldn’t treat you like that. it’s wrong, friends aren’t supposed to treat you like that.”

when she noticed you not relaxing into her touch like you normally would she bent down to press a kiss to your temple.

“maybe put the phone down for a bit, yeah? you can always reply later after you’ve had some time away from it.”

you slowly nodded, knowing she was right and placed your phone on the desk. you stood up and faced her, her hands now rubbing your arms comfortingly. you took one look at her sympathetic eyes and started to tear up.

“sweetheart,” abby cooed, hugging you tightly whilst you sobbed into her chest.

“i hate it, abs.”

she started rubbing your back with her warm hand. it pained her to see you like this. she loved you so much and wanted to make sure you were always happy. even though she knew that was impossible, she’d be damned if that would stop her from trying.

“come here,” she said softly as she removed one arm from you to fluff up the pillows, gesturing for you to lie down. you both climbed onto the bed and she immediately bundled you up in her arms again.

“you’ve done more than enough. i truly admire how sweet and caring you are about people,” she kissed your head, “but people should reciprocate the same kindness for you and if they don’t, you shouldn’t feel so obligated to go to those lengths for them.”

“i know, i just don’t want to let them down.”

“you won’t. despite everything, i hope you have a nice weekend, but if you need to call me at any point, do so. please? if you need picking up even, i’m there, okay?”

you nodded against her chest and held her tighter. “okay.”

“thank you. i love you, angel.”

“love you too, abs. thank you.”

[gothidecorem]

Okay, so in my original idea, this was supposed to be spicy but I can’t get the dumb adhd brain to get past this spot. So, here is my short little Chris Shiherlis blurb.

Warnings: uh, language I suppose. Does Chris himself count as a warning? Spoilers for sure if you’ve never seen Heat. (Also switched a couple events around)

Tags💖: @valmare @sakar-rad

The walk back to the condo from the coffee shop was brisk, but needed. The wind blowing across the ocean, moonlight illuminating what the streetlights couldn’t touch. After a day like today, all that I wanted to do was relax on the deck & listen to the ocean before bed. After what seemed like an eternity trying to fumble for the right key, I finally made my way through the door and into the kitchen to make some tea. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, I turn around and immediately lose grip, dropping it to the floor, spotting a figure laying in the living room. The sound of porcelain shattering startled the figure, jolting up abruptly.

“Damnit Chris. Good thing it wasn’t my favorite mug or you’d be buying me a new one.” I joke, grabbing a broom & sweeping up the pieces.

“When is Neil gonna get some furniture?” He asks, making his way to the bar. I reach up to grab another mug to make him a cup as well.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” After starting the kettle finally, I excuse myself and head to the bedroom to change into some comfier clothes. I also call Charlene to see what’s up. After a few rings, she answers. “Chris is at my place. What’s wrong?”

“Husband and wife stuff.” She says, venom hanging on every word.

“Cut the crap, Charlene.” I say, laying on my bed.

“You’re one to talk. As if my husband hasn’t been seeing you behind my back. Don’t think I don’t know what’s been going on.”

“Yeah, maybe in the daydreams in your head. I’ve told you time and time again there’s nothing going on between us.” The woman doth project too much.

“Go ahead and keep lying to yourself, honey. I-“

“No, you listen. Don’t act like you don’t go around cheating on Chris. Or do I need to remind you about the whole hotel situation. Yeah, that’s right, Neil told me everything. Don’t continue to project onto him & I to make yourself feel justified in being a bitch.” I’ve always tried to play nice for Chris & Neil’s sake but I’ve never liked the woman. Never have and definitely never will for the way she treats those around her.

“Yano what, you can have him. I’m done talking to you.” She said, abruptly hanging up the phone. Nerves on high alert and anger already boiling, I let it take over and launch my phone at the wall. The moment it crashed, there was a faint knock & the door slightly cracked open.

“Just wanted to let you know the tea is ready. I finished making it for you.” Chris slowly walks in, two mugs in hand. Joining me on the floor by my bed, he passes me the tea. The burn of the tea feels nice, easing the aggravation.

“So what happened?” I ask, pulling the blanket down for us to share.

“Not enough steaks in the freezer.” He said nonchalantly, sipping on his tea.

“With what you guys do, I doubt that.” I mumble under my breath, “unless she’s also a gold digger.” To the untrained eye, it would’ve gone unnoticed, but a flicker of shock flashed in his eyes. “Don’t act surprised, Shiherlis. I’m not oblivious.”

“Vegas & the Super Bowl cleaned me out.”

“Everyone has their vices, some costing more than others. You don’t deserve half the shit she puts you through because of that though.”

He sets his cup down, full attention on me. “What do you mean by that?”

“I hope I’m not the one breaking this to you, but you realize she has something going for her on the side, right? Neil caught her sneaking around at that seedy motel near downtown.” He slumps down, putting his head in his hands. “This whole time she’s been trying to pin the blame on me, on us, saying we’re sneaking around but the whole time she was just-“

“Seriously? She’s been saying that shit to you this whole time?” He says, quickly sitting back up.

“Since the day we met. She’s never liked me and the feeling is mutual. Sorry-“

“Don’t be, I get it.”

The truth is, while there may not be anything but friendship between him & I, I’ve had feelings for him since soon after he and I met. Those feelings haven’t gone away, they’ve just gotten stronger the closer we got. Neil warned me not to get too wrapped up, especially with the job.

“There’s no point. That’s the cold truth of the business. Have no attachments, allow nothing to be in your life you cannot walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you spot the heat around the corner.”

“You took me in, didn’t you?”

“You’re a special case & you’re not here all the time. You know where to find me and I know where to find you if shit hits the fan.”

Chris’s head falling on my shoulder shook me out of my thoughts. He looked so at peace with the way the moonlight hit his face, blond hair falling down. Brushing it out of the way, attempting to help him feel as calm as he looked, he sat up again & stared me down. It was a little hard to read just what emotions he had on his face.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have played-“ he cupped his hands around my face, pulling me in for a kiss. The kiss didn’t last more than a couple moments, and before I knew it he was scrambling backwards.

“Sorry, I didn’t…I wasn’t thinking-“

“Don’t be sorry, Chris, just do it again.”

[kivaember]

👀!! but also, 🎯?

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

Interestingly, not many people have made in depth guesses about major major plot points for APV! I am curious to hear people's theories though, if only to see if the foreshadowing I lay down it getting picked up...

Otherwise, on my P5 fic To Know Your Target, quite a few people correctly guessed major plot points, which I found really cool! I like it when people can sorta guess where the story is heading, bc it means I'm building it in a coherent kind of way. There's no better feeling for when you guess something will happen and it does!

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Oh man I have so many!!! Okay, I have one wip that's like two thirds done... it's a oneshot (a big one rip) that's post LoR. It follows 621 hunting amongst the wreckage of the Xylem for Walter's AC, mostly because he's kinda lost on what to do with himself and also bc he wants to give it a funeral. Rusty, still horribly injured from his fall fromthe Xylem, hijacks an RLF MT and follows him there...

The fic's most about discussing 621 and Rusty's different approaches to grief and moving on and the like... and hilariously, as I was writing it, 621 ended up being a lot more emotionally intelligent than Rusty was...

Have a snippet :) as a treat!

He rounded a collapsed pile of masonry and shattered glass, some sort of towering roof structure that had caved in on the deck below. STALKER was standing in the near distance on the very edge of the deck, staring at the slowly approaching supercell. 

Carefully, Rusty piloted his MT to stand beside STALKER, and directed his visual sensors towards the incoming storm. His wipers were going a little crazy now, frantically whipping back and forth to try and outpace the heavy downpour. Beside him, STALKER moved fractionally, its half-rusted joints creaking loudly. 

“...hey,” Rusty murmured. “Aren’t you tired, Raven?”

STALKER’s head angled towards him. 

«Aren’t you tired, Rusty?»

Rusty felt his mouth quirk into a smile. A response, even if it was a mocking (he assumed). He’d take it. “Yeah. I’m pretty exhausted, to be honest.” 

«…then why are you here.»

“Like I said, I came to get you. You’ve been out here for two days. Uncle was getting worried.”

Raven took his time in replying and Rusty patiently waited, ignoring the various aches and pains lancing through his body like razor sharp glass. It was fine. So long as he didn’t bust the stitches from his spleen repair surgery, he should be okay. 

«I’m fine.»

“Sure,” Rusty said. “Just like I’m fine.”

«I wasn’t in a coma for two days after breaking half my bones.»

no, you were just tortured for weeks on end instead, Rusty did not say with some effort. “You still need to eat, right? You’re augmented, but you’re still human.”

Raven didn’t seem to have a ready response for that, so he just didn’t say anything.

“...what’re you even out here for anyways?” Rusty asked, genuinely curious. The Xylem was a marvel of Institute tech, yeah, but most of it was completely ruined from its violent re-entry. Aside from getting blown up and ransacked by invading corporate and Liberation Front forces alike, the seawater filling up half the ship would’ve eaten away at most of the technology by now. 

«…I’m looking for something.» 

“Well… if you’re looking so hard for it, I guess it must be important…” Rusty said slowly. “Maybe I can help?”

«You’re injured and should be resting.»

“You’re injured too.” Rusty’s tone grew solemn. “I know what they do in those re-education camps, Raven.” 

«…»

“You’ve been flat out since you escaped,” Rusty said softly. “Uncle said you only swung by for a day at our base before running off again. If you don’t stop to rest, your body’s just going to give out on you. It’s a pointless way to go.” 

«…»

“Unless that’s what you want?” Rusty asked, and made sure his voice was dispassionately blunt when he added: “Are you just waiting to die?”

The question lingered between them like an ominous shroud. The supercell moved close enough that its thick cloud wall blocked out the sun, dousing them in deep, dark shadow. 

«…no.»

Raven paused, and STALKER kept shifting its weight back and forth, rusted joints screeching and groaning, the AC not built to spend so much time along the seashore, getting sprayed with saltwater and blasted with coastal gusts. It looked like a corpse just barely moving, skeletal, where chunks of its ablative armour had been stripped off from its own re-entry, and the inner hull torn from the tremendous forces it had been under (had never been designed to endure, but had endured anyways). 

There was even a gaping crack in the Core, a sliver where Rusty could peer past the protective armour and see a bit of the Core block that contained the pilot’s cockpit. Red-tinged rainwater was collecting in that crack, pouring out of it like a miniature stream.

«I don’t know what to do.»

It was unexpectedly honest. Vulnerable. Completely out of nowhere. 

“What do you mean?”  

«Before everything went wrong in Institute City, Handler Walter told me what to do. I knew what to expect with each day. I knew what my objectives were. Now, I know nothing. I’m a mercenary with no money or clients, and I have no idea how to get those things myself. I got my life back, like Walter wanted, but there’s nothing in it.»

STALKER’s head bowed. 

«…I have nothing.»

“That’s not true, Raven,” Rusty said gently, taken aback by Raven’s raw honesty, and cursing the awkwardness of having this talk while they were in two separate mechs. Raven was as expressionless as they came, but he could still gauge his human face better than just staring at the side of STALKER’s cracked Core. 

“After saving Rubicon, you’ve definitely got the Liberation Front on your side,” he continued. “And, for what it’s worth, I’ve got your back too. I know you won’t trust that, considering what happened before Institute City but, I mean it. I was-”

He drew in a slow breath, before admitting quietly: “I was wrong about you. You weren’t a threat to be eliminated, and I acted too hastily in my judgement of you. I’m sorry.”

«It’s fine. You weren’t exactly wrong. I was a threat.»

“...? What do you-”

A flash of scarlet lightning lit up the horizon, followed by a booming thunder that rattled Rusty’s very bones and briefly deafened him. He couldn’t help but wince. 

«I’m looking for Walter,» Raven said in an unexpected non-sequitur, forcibly dropping the last topic. «His corpse is on this ship somewhere.»

[smallbrooke1998]

Thomas And Duck's Big Fight

CW: Profanity language, blood, and mild violence.

The story:

Thomas and Duck are alone together in one of the caverns at the local beach (in Maretime Bay, Equestria), both seeming to be very cross at each other for some reason. The two have never had the best relationship ever since Duck joined the railway back in their home universe, and it was very common for them to sometimes get cross at each other. The triggers were usually because the two were very opposite of each other. Thomas being very immature and cheeky, and Duck being mature and doesn’t put up with no nonsense. Because of this, they don’t get along all the time. 

The two were facing each other and both visibly fuming. Out of the two, Thomas the very angry one flaring his nostrils. 

“You know what it is, Thomas? You’re the most ignorant, immature, pillock, and stubborn engine/pony I’ve ever met!” Duck bluntly tells to Thomas's face. 

Thomas breathes heavily and flares his nostrils, not answering to Duck. 

“You know what else is true about you? You’re also…A…Bloody joke! You’ve caused too much trouble for the entire railway ever since I got purchased from the other railway! Half of the trouble that has happened on this island is your fault!! Your cheekiness makes you…a…bloody twit!!” 

Thomas stays quiet but flares his nostrils in response to the foul/insulting language Duck used on him. Duck keeps on going. 

“I’ve had several engines be pompous, egotistical, and cheeky from the time I was built, but I’ve never met someone as flawed, rude, and bloody awful as you! That there says a lot because I’ve been around for several decades now and engines like you have no respect! I may have my own pride from the old Great Western, but I do not, I do not show disrespect or arrogance of others! It’s really no wonder why so many engines can’t stand you, it’s funny really!” 

Thomas is completely still, feeling completely offended now and breathing heavily out of intense anger. 

“You’re now feeling very cross from me telling you the truth, huh?!! You better be because everyone has gotten too soft on you!!” Duck analyzes Thomas’s body language for a bit. 

“Oh, I’m so surprised that you still haven’t answered because usually, you always get back with your bloody witty remarks! I guess my words have really given you a reality check!” 

Duck gives the blue earth pony an intense stare. Thomas draws in a very deep breath and then exhales, pawing at the ground. 

“Well bloody dickhead, you just made me more cross than ever! Now that we’re not engines for the time being, I’m going to do something that I’ve wanted to do forever, kick your butt!!! My buffers would never do as much harm unless I crashed you into a bloody building, but now that we’re ponies, a simple beating will make you feel pain!” Thomas finally replies to Duck, being more insulting than Duck was. 

“I beg your pardon! You always wanted to…Harm me!?” Duck says in complete shock, standing frozen. 

“In other words, I want to fight you right now!” Thomas adds after Duck responded in shock. In an instant, Thomas lunges at Duck and bites his right forearm. 

After getting bit, Duck immediately lunges back at Thomas, pinning him to the sandy ground and punching him in the eye. Thomas yelps in pain from being hit in the eye and hits Duck on the muzzle, causing a nosebleed. The two go back and forth with the physical violence, Thomas quickly getting the upperhoof due to being slightly bigger than Duck in height. 

They would tumble and tackle about, hitting and body slamming each other. “You little arse! You gotta be more violent than that!” 

“So you are treating me like you treat a troublesome truck!? I will shunt you across the railyard once we get back home!” 

“Twat!!!” 

“Bollocks! The Great Western Railway and even the BR would never allow such fighting!!” 

“Who fucking cares about your old railways?! The Great Western is gone!” 

“You are swearing” like the former dock shunter you were! I heard your class was only restricted to the docks because you’re too fat!” 

“So what!? You’re fat too! Oh wait, you’re a box!!” 

The two insult each other as they hit, tumble, and slam each other in the sand. At one point, Thomas was pinning Duck once again. Just as he was about to hit Duck, he noticed that Duck was about to bite him! 

“Bite me you worthless Great Western piece of shit!!” Thomas yelled, basically daring Duck to bite him. Which after that being said, Duck clamps down onto Thomas’s right forearm, causing him to try to shake the latter off. 

“Get off me you bloody twit! I didn’t tell you to bite like that! Now get off!” He punches Duck in the eye, causing him to get off and hold his eye for a second. 

“Oh so now you act like a coward in pain!” 

After a few brief moments, Duck lunges at full force and pins Thomas down, purposely kicking him in the highly sensitive area at the groin. Thomas screams in pain and reflectively shoves Duck off, causing him to fly a few inches away and crash land into the sand. Thomas grabs the sensitive area and cries in pain. 

“It’s only fair that you feel what I felt but worse!” Duck says, roasting Thomas. 

“Oh fuck you!” He says as he stops grabbing the intimate area once the pain calmed down. 

“No! Don’t!” Duck starts to crawl off, sensing what Thomas was going to do. Duck soon gets up and tries running off, but because of his bad back, Thomas catches up to him easily. 

“Take that! First your eye, now your sensitive parts!” He proceeds to kick Duck in that same area. 

“Owww!!!!” Duck screams and collapses onto the sand, holding the intimate area that just got kicked. Thomas just cracks up laughing.  

The laughing would come to an end when Duck kicks Thomas in the nose, causing his other nostril to bleed. 

Soon, they would go right back to insulting, body slamming, throwing, and tackling each other in the sand, dust flying everywhere. 

Time has now passed and it was sunset, the two earth stallions were now lying on the ground, both badly bruised, have ruffled fur, and bite marks. Thomas was tied up in large kelp that Duck wrapped him in at one point. Duck was just lying on his back. 

The both of them fell asleep after the fight and they both stirred. Thomas immediately kicks the kelp off of him, but winces in pain. 

“I wrapped you in that kelp you know.” Duck said, Thomas getting startled. 

“So what?!” Thomas simply replies, sitting up and wincing. 

“So…You would no longer beat me.” 

“I know that you pratt!” Thomas replied, being very aware of what Duck did to him after the fight ended. 

“I can’t sit...I hurt everywhere….” Duck says, complaining of pain as he tries to sit up.  

“Duck? I think I got my wish fulfilled. Let’s never do that again.” Thomas said, groaning. 

“Well, of course. I have to admit, I wanted to hurt you ever since you attempted to detour the train to try to show Harold The Helicopter the island from the ground view. You have no idea how cross I was that day when your crew spoke to my crew about a change in plans to pick up an extra person at Knapford station. I was so gullible that I fell for it! When I learned that it was a trick, I purposely ignored you and refused to cooperate with my driver to stop at the tunnel.” Duck confesses this to Thomas, who looked at him in shock. 

“Well, I’m not surprised by that at all. I knew you weren’t having trouble with your brakes!” Thomas told Duck, feeling kind of cross again, of that one incident sometime back when he and Duck had to take Harold The Helicopter to the hangar to get him repaired after he broke down. Thomas did regret causing trouble that day, but didn’t realize how much it affected Duck. 

“I’m certainly not proud of lying about my brakes to the fat controller…” Duck replies, sounding very sad at this fact. 

“Alright Duck, here is the deal, we won’t tell anyone what truly happened. The fight is between us only. Instead of admitting the truth, we will just tell them that we had an accident…” 

“And maybe, to be more convincing, tell them that we got seriously beat up in a sport…”  Duck adds, hoping to make the story specific. 

The two come up with their cover up story about their injuries as they decide to stay in the cavern for the night. The two lay back down, the sand acting like a cushion. Although they’re not close friends, they do forgive each other and make amends to never be physical ever again. One of the reasons they fought like this in the first place was to blow off steam and it worked.

They're not dead, they're just asleep. The fighting wore them out. Duck and Thomas are fine, I promise, just beaten up.

The song that is playing in the background;

Additional sketch scenes and the inspiration below the cut;

Behold, the picture that I was inspired from and the scene, lol.

[tigresslanzhu]

It’s Your Character That Counts: Ashlynn Juarez

Yes, I’m back! I wish I had caught up on this, but when you’re too busy IRL to do posts that take longer than two minutes to write and can only do so at certain times, things like this tend to take a hiatus.

You all know the drill. Everyone automatically loses trustworthiness and citizenship points because they let Buster talk them into breaking the law and lying along with him.

But at least Ash is willing to call him out on this behavior on occasion. Obviously she does it in private, but speaking out when someone wants you to do something wrong, according to the “workbook”, is another big part of trustworthiness. Also, we can’t forget how she called bullshit on that night club owner who payed her way less than all the other acts. Okay, it’s just half, but STILL! Way to stand up for yourself, Ash!

Well, well…

This is mainly for occasional backsass and maybe a dirty look of two, although if we’re also counting self-respect, I think we know what happened with Stupid Dumb Lance. How she was able to put up with his verbal abuse and belittling is still baffling to this day.

Oooooh! You were so close, Ash! You’re usually so good in this department, but unfortunately, I have to count the actions taken in Sing On Tour, no matter how not-canon it is.

I’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while, but without these Kids For Character rankings, there just wasn’t a decent way to being it up without seeming like I’m bitching too much.

If you’ve seen the YouTube videos of Sing On Tour in Universal Studios Japan and Universal Studios Beijing, you know that Ash is absent throughout most of the show because it appeared she had an errand to run. For a year and a half, I thought a guitar string broke and she needed to get a specific brand to make her performances that much more epic… but I was WRONG!

For the longest time, English subtitles for this show were unavailable, but two weeks ago, I found a video where someone translated the Beijing show (They’re both the same, so don’t worry about that) and it turns out she just left the theater to get a bigger speaker!

Like… REALLY, ASH?!? This is not like you! In a canonical version of this, you would have made do with what was there, right? Or, I know that most of the cast didn’t even know who Mizuki was and why she was there (probably a spontaneous decision on Buster’s part), but since she was the new intern, you could have had her get the speaker! Any Ash fan knows that she would NOT pull a stunt like this right before a show!

Yes, I’m also saying that Ash’s Sing On Tour stuff counts for fairness, as it sounds like she was the first act, but also keep the fact that she did sort of abandon Lance and went ahead with the singing competition anyway, even though he lost interest after Buster said he only wanted Ash. No, I’m not saying that I side with that dork, but you still don’t just do that to someone.

But again, if we go back to her first scene in Sing 2, she is more than willing to make things fair between her and the other acts in the night club. Dealing with a jerk like Lance has taught her that she has self-worth and that she deserves to be treated fairly.

“See, I have this rule about not letting guys like you tell me what I’m worth, so, you know, unless I get payed like everyone else, I’m outta here!”

This leads back to her snarkiness. She mostly does it because she cares. When she calls Buster out for his lies, it’s because she doesn’t want to see him hurt. She went ahead with the singing competition because she thought it would help Lance with HIS music! And you can’t say her staying behind at Clay’s house was solely malicious. She was one of his biggest fans and knew he couldn’t just leave him there in a depressed state!

Yeah… You know why this one is the lowest. For the most part, she does the right thing, but Buster trained her to break the law along side him. She was even an accomplice in trying to break into Clay’s house.

[stiricidewrites]

All the Things We’ll Leave Behind: ch 30, pt 14

Note: There's a scene break between this and the last chapter, but it's still the same chapter

CW: more explicit talk of the potential of a threesome between the boys, basically just everyone getting on the same page in this and the next update (which is also the end of the chapter)

See you Sunday!

Previously

~

“Okay!” wwx cheered as he hung up his assistant’s phone—which he had rather forcefully manhandled away from the poor man. “Food’s ordered for you two! Don’t worry, jzxuan~ I won’t count this as repaying you for your help last night.”

jzxuan glared at the phone, a light red dusting over his cheeks.

“Help?” lwj asked. He vaguely remembered his friend mentioning that, in his rundown of the night before. About how his mate had offered him payment in return for moving him to bed, although he had not said what that payment was.

“For moving you,” his mate said, eye glittering with amusement, while his friend’s scent turned embarrassed. “Couldn’t just let my mate sleep on the floor! He did get you to bed, I assume?”

lwj hummed, telling the other man about how they had woken up in bed together. His ears burned, as he explained how his friend had apparently gotten him there. His mate, luckily, only seemed amused by the whole waking up half-naked in bed together.

“What did you offer him?” lwj asked, curious about what would have made jzxuan so desperate to get him to bed that he would resort to bribing him with his scent—he had left out the whole… sucking on his friend’s scent gland thing, though. His mate didn’t need to know that part of the story—he would find it much too amusing. His mate didn’t need more amusement at the moment.

“Oh~” wwx cooed, smiling that evil smile up at him and jzxuan. “You really want to know? What it was the little alpha asked for, as payment for moving you?”

Next to him, jzxuan shifted uneasily. “Wei Wu—”

“What happened to Xian-gege?” wwx asked, head tilting in challenge. “Unless you’ve changed your mind? I guess you didn’t exactly agree last night.”

lwj frowned. “I thought you said he asked for it?”

jzxuan choked slightly, retreating towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water as he coughed.

“Semantics,” wwx said, waving a hand. “He asked without asking, so I suggested. You have to agree too, of course, A-Zhan.”

This time, it was lwj’s turn to shift uneasily. He glanced over at his friend, who had his back turned to them as he gulped down water. The slight sourness of embarrassment, the twist of nervousness, reached his nose and he quickly disappeared down the hall, thinking this conversation better held in private.

“What did…?” he wasn’t exactly sure how to phrase it.

“Well, he asked for a rain check because he was tired, and I joked that a rain check didn’t mean I’d give him just anything. Like, I wouldn’t give him you.”

lwj blushed. “Good.” He was quite happy belonging to wwx, and while the idea of being treated as something his mate could give away sent an erotic surge of wrongness—of dirtiness—through him, he didn’t actually want to be given away.

His mate laughed quietly, and when lwj looked back to his phone, the other man’s eyes were dark and predatory. Just like they had been the night of the party, when they had—

“Xian-gege… offered to…” Again, he wasn’t really sure how to phrase it, even if he could guess at what his mate had hinted might be possible.

“Share?” wwx’s mouth quirked, cocky and knowing—because of course he knew. lwj had straight up told him, in an attempt to make him jealous, about his brief fantasy of topping his friend. That had been before, though—before they had actually become friends.

“It’s up to you, of course,” his mate said, voice so kind—so preemptively accepting of whatever answer lwj was going to give him—that lwj’s heart clenched. “I’m down for it, though, if you are.”

[aajjks]

👀🤨

BC!JK

“when you said you were coming over i thought you were joking” you say to jungkook as pulls you into a hug and you happily reciprocate his embrace. you’re happy that you tidied up your apartment before jungkook’s arrival because you sometimes have a bad habit of throwing things around and leaving them there.

“here, i can take your coat” you tell jungkook. it’s his first time at your place and you’re glad he seems to like your small home. your living room is decorated with the bright colors of yellow and turquoise and on your walls are various paintings you’ve painted yourself, motivational words, and a wall dedicated to the letters/pictures your students make for you.

your kitchen is white with granite counters and at some points, mahogany walls. you’ve got the basic essentials like a fridge with a freezer, a pantry for your snacks, and cabinets for your tupperware. the decor for your kitchen is nice too and jungkook can’t help but smile when he sees that your fridge is covered with colorful magnets he’s sure you’ve collected.

it’s nice. all of this is nice until jungkook’s curiosity leads him to the half eaten bouquet of fruit with a card saying: ‘i hope this makes you smile.’

weird, when did you get one of these?

“what are you talking about?” you say as you finish hanging jungkook’s coat up in your closet and return to see him looking at the edible arrangement.

“oh, this? i’m sorry i didn’t thank you” you pout as you stand by jungkook’s side with a shy smile on your freckled face “this was so sweet, jungkook. i love it. it was delicious too”

but for some reason, you’re beginning to believe jungkook didn’t buy the arrangement for you. he looks too clueless about it.

“you-you didn’t buy this did you?” your smile slowly fades and you both are left wondering who bought you the bouquet.

“maybe it was someone else’s” you deflect “the card didn’t even come with a name on it, see?”

you show jungkook the card.

no initials. no name.

it simply says ‘i hope this makes you smile.’

you thought it came from jungkook because you weren’t in the best mood since that conversation. unless someone was watching you.

This is definitely not making him smile and Jungkook crinkles his eyes to read the text again, he notices something, something about the handwriting is awfully familiar

“I brought something for you actually, it’s on your couch I brought some sweet treats for us to enjoy together, and I know how much you love sweets.” You must be disappointed because he didn’t send this, so who was romantic enough to send you this fruit bouquet?

Was it your ex? But the handwriting is so similar and he has definitely seen it before it can’t be eunwoo’s, because you would’ve recognized it.

Even the paper is blank with no watermark.. jungkook is thinking hard, and then it all clicks. “Ahhh yn… I know who sent this… this handwriting belongs to my dear dad.”

The cursive letters, the black ink. It’s familiar. And the funny part is it’s written in English.

“Y-Yn my dad sent you this… fuck.. what does he want? I’m going to tell my mother about this.” it is so obvious that he has other intentions with you because he’s never sweet enough to send someone a gift without having something to take but what could he possibly want from you?

That is a scary thought and he’s already starting to get angry, don’t think that he hasn’t been noticing the way his dad is literally so interested in you and what you do and how you do everything.

He has even asked him about your relationship status, but obviously jungkook lied because you are not ready to let people know that you’re dating right now.

He invited you to the dinner, and before that he went to your Academy, where you are a teacher. Something is really wrong.

It couldn’t possibly be doing all of this because he wants you to date his son, frankly his father couldn’t care less about his dating life.

“Yn… haha I am starting to get really angry now.” Jungkook turns to look at you. His jaw is clenched and he’s biting his lower lip.

“ never mind I gotta go. I gotta go to my parents…. Enjoy your treats..” he says… his father… what does he want?

Jungkook will get to know tonight.

[mint-yooxgi]

Hi hi! Hope all is well! I wanted to see if we could potentially get a part 2 of the rich Sungchan yandere who is obsessed with the barista at his family’s country club? 💗💗

Part One

***

You’ve been avoiding him. Well, as much as you can be while stuck behind the service counter at the café you work at. Sungchan frequently comes to see you, to simply observe you, so of course he would notice something like this. You hardly even look at him anymore, usually finding a convenient excuse to head into the back whenever he appears to order. Unless it’s during a rush, but even then you just treat him like any other customer instead of the love of your life. Of which honestly just pisses him off.

Can’t you see that you’re made for each other?

Another thing that he’s noticed that really pisses him off is how often Chan comes to see you while at work. Sure, it could just be that this is the only café in the building, so most of the workers will stop by for a coffee on their breaks, but the mental image of the two of you smiling and laughing together only serves to make Sungchan’s blood boil.

He’s tried to step in and do something. Just like the first time, he always attempts to come up with some excuse to get Chan away from you, but after his not so subtle confession the first time, you haven’t been taking it well. Which is exactly why you’ve been avoiding him.

Sure, Sungchan has thought of just firing Chan, but you would notice something was wrong given how close the two of you seem. Besides, he’s one of Sungchan’s parents favourite workers. The shit he would get in from his parents alone is enough to deter him from going through with that plan, but if things continue the way they are, he’s not above resorting to drastic measures.

Which is exactly what leads him to form this little plan of his now.

It’s a Friday evening and you’ve just arrived for you shift. Your supervisor told you of a wedding reception that’s supposedly taking place tonight, and how they needed extra hands on deck. Only, when you step through the dining room doors, there’s no one to be seen. No one, except for a singular person sitting alone at the centre table.

Your eyes narrow, glancing around the dimly lit room. You can tell that someone went to tremendous effort to keep up this ruse, given the way all the tables and chairs are set up. Though, the table in the middle of the room is the only one with a centre piece.

As soon as the man stands from his seat at the table, you scowl. “What is the meaning of this?”

You were told to dress nicely, given how important your supervisor instructed you this evening would be. Instead of your usual serving outfit, you wore something a bit more fancy, and now you realize why.

“We’re alone, aren’t we?” Sungchan smirks. “And you’re talking to me. What more could I want?”

“I came here to work, not play pretend on some date with you.” You cross your arms, noticing how he’s wearing a proper suit tonight instead of just his typical blazer and jeans.

“Your words cut deeper than any knife, my love.” One of Sungchan’s hands raise to cover his heart, as if your words have truly wounded him. “This isn’t some half-assed joke to me. I am attempting to impress you, you know.”

You huff, “consider me impressed by your audacity.”

“How else was I supposed to get you to talk to me?” He shrugs, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You were avoiding me at every cost, so I turned to drastic measures.”

“I’m leaving.” You state, going to turn around in the next moment.

Only, the next words out of Sungchan’s lips have you halting in your spot.

“You and Christopher seem close.” He hums, but the way he spits out the other male’s name has your blood running cold.

“What are you implying?” Your eyes narrow.

“You don’t think I wouldn’t know when the love of my life is in love with someone else?” Sungchan meets your gaze, and you’re taken aback by the intensity shining within his eyes.

You hesitate, “you’re wrong-”

“So you wouldn’t care if I fired him, then?” Sungchan smirks. What you don’t know won’t hurt you. “Would be a shame, really. I heard he’s going through some rough times, financially. To be blacklisted from finding another job would really take its toll.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You grit your teeth in frustration.

“Wouldn’t I?” He smiles, maliciously. “I know I can’t threaten your job, but his? He is fair game.”

“What do you want?” Your fists clench by your sides, attempting to control the raging anger boiling inside of you.

“I thought I told you already,” he tilts his head slightly, almost condescendingly. “Now, why don’t you come join me for our date? The food’s getting cold.”

[just-jordie-things]

A Lover And A Fighter - Richie Tozier

word count: 3122 warnings: swearing, sight sexual harassment summary: Richie promised (y/n) that he wouldn’t get into fights anymore, but sometimes he just can’t help himself.  Especially when it comes to protecting her.

___

It was an understatement to say that Richie was protective of you.  The boy was downright insane about it.  Everyone in Derry knew not to fuck with (y/n), not unless they wanted Richie Tozier tracking them down and beating them half to death.

You’d given him a talk numerous times.  But not once did they work, it always went in one ear and out the other..

He’d beaten up three ex boyfriends, a couple guys that looked at you the wrong way, and Greta Keene.  He was proud of that amount.

But he’d promised that he would try his best not to act out on your behalf anymore.  And you made him pinky promise.  That’s a big deal.  And he didn’t want to break your trust or your promise.

However… once he walked past Henry Bowers and his dumbass friends, and heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t stop himself from getting involved.

“What was that?” He spoke before he could think things through.

The boys turned to him, each bearing a scowl that wasn’t out of character.

“I said, (y/n’s) not fucking worth it,” Henry practically growled out.  “Now why don’t you fuck off, Tozier?”

“Your damn fucking right it’s not worth it,” Richie spat back, turning away, doing the right thing.  “I’d break your goddamn nose” He muttered under his breath.

“It’s not worth it to try and get in her pants,” Henry called out before Richie could walk far enough away.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Cause she’s such a slut anyways, it’s not a real victory to fuck-”

Richie had never whipped around so fast.  And with the punch he delivered went all common sense, and all the promises and reassurances he’d given you to prove he was going to ‘mature’ as you’d begged him to do. ___

“Hey, Richie,” You held your phone between your ear and shoulder as you painted your toes.  “This is like, my fifth message… so… call me back, I guess.  Okay, bye”

You sighed as you set the phone back on it’s holster.  Richie wasn’t the type of guy to stand you up, especially on taco tuesday.  And even if something came up, he always always, called.  But now he couldn’t even bother to return one of your calls, leaving you to assume that he was upset with you for some reason, and therefore ignoring you.

You weren’t sure what you did, and at this point, you also weren’t sure that he was going to tell you either.

When Richie didn’t want to talk to someone, he was the damn best at avoiding them.

But he’d never given you the cold shoulder.  And there was a time that you’d thought he never would.  Richie was your best friend, you trusted and confided in him more than anyone else, even the other Losers.  And in the last seven years of being his best friend, he’d never treated you this way.  In fact, he always treated you amazingly, like a princess, it was very surprising actually, the way he cared about you.

It was that care that always led him to picking fights where he shouldn’t be, though.  It started with your ex boyfriend.  He broke up with you once a ‘better, prettier’ girl showed interest (his words), and the next thing you knew, Richie was throwing him against the lockers.

When your next boyfriend straight up cheated on you, Richie took care of him too.

He broke the third one’s nose.

And then there was the Greta Keene incident… Beverly may have let it slip that Greta had been writing nasty rumors about you in the girls bathrooms.  And Richie declared that he didn’t have a problem beating up a girl if it was justified (and if that girl had man arms).  That was when you drew the line, and made Richie swear to try and control his anger.  And he pinkie promised to work on it, and that he wouldn’t get into any more fights over you.

You weren’t sure why he got so enraged over these things.  It was just drama, and you found it pointless that he tried to bring you justice, since he was so reckless about it.

It was getting late, and you knew that Richie wasn’t going to return your calls.  So you finished painting your toenails blue, and decided to spend the night in your room, reading, alone.

Even though you should have been eating a bunch of tacos and gossiping with Richie.

Just as you got situated in bed, and had turned off the overhead light in exchange for the soft glow of your lamp on the bedside table, there was a knock on the window.

When you glanced over, you could tell it was Richie by his silhouette, and you frowned slightly.

Nonetheless, you got up and unlocked the window, before sliding it open.

“Where the hell have you been?” You asked.

He could tell that you couldn’t see his face very well.

“Busy, you gonna let me in?” He grinned.

“Richie, it’s-” You glanced over your shoulder to the alarm clock on your table, before glaring back at him.  “-midnight.  Are you kidding me? Did I do something to piss you off?”

“What? (y/n/n), no-”

“Then how come you were dodging all my calls? And you’re seven hours late?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest..

Richie crawled in through the window, even though you hadn’t invited him in yet.  But he figured it was only a matter of time before you cave anyways.

Your distressed face disappeared as you caught sight of him now that he was in the light.  His left eye was bruising, and so was his right cheekbone.  Along with a split lip and a bloody nose, it was clear what had happened.

“Oh, Richie…” You mumbled, hand reaching up to cover your mouth as your eyes widened at the sight of him.  “Tell me you didn’t-”

“Look it’s not what you think-” Richie tried to protest.

“Don’t give me that shit”

He knew he fucked up, because you weren’t yelling.  Your voice was soft, and low.  You were heartbroken.

He stared down at the ground, too anxious to look at you anymore.  Not when you looked so disappointed in him.  

“You promised- you-you pinky promised me-”

“I know-! I know and I’m sorry, really, I’m really fucking sorry” He told you, desperately hoping that you’d forgive him.

You shook your head at him, and gestured for him to sit before you left the room.  Richie was the most frustratingly complicated person that you knew, and it drove you insane.  Why he couldn’t just walk away and not beat the shit out of people… you weren’t sure.  But it really hurt you that he didn’t even seem to try, and he broke his promise.

Richie was sitting on the side of your bed when you came back into the room.  He chuckled as he eyed the first aid kit in your hands, the same one that you’ve used the last four or five times you dealt with the aftermath of his episodes of rages.

“You don’t have t-”

“Yes I do” You cut him off and unpacked what you’d need.

You were upset, you were fuming, actually.  It angered you that Richie broke his promise, not even a month after making it.  That promise was important to you, because he was important to you.  And now here he was, waiting to be fixed up by you once again after he so stupidly, so recklessly got himself beaten to a pulp.

But no matter how angry you were, you remained silent.  Dabbing at the excess blood under his nose, which at least wasn’t bleeding anymore.  And when you were finished with his cheek, you moved on to rubbing cream over the bruise on his cheek.  Richie’s eyes fell shut as he sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool lotion, and your gentle fingers.

He knew your silence wasn’t a good thing.  In fact, it was the worst thing.  It meant he messed up beyond redemption.  And he’d never fucked up that bad before.  Sure, he’d pissed you off and frustrated you on the daily, but that was just the hallmark of his friendship, and it was never anything serious.  Just when he dragged you out in the middle of the night for slushies, or got you in trouble in class because he was running his mouth.  He’d never made you this genuinely upset before.

“(y/n)-”

“Save it” You muttered before he could even start with the apologies.

That was another hallmark of his friendship.  You knew what came next.  The apologies, the excuses, the begging for your forgiveness, followed by a playful ‘you know you love me, you need me’ and puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse.  Except tonight, you might just be able to.

He took you by surprise when he didn’t protest, and snapped his mouth shut.  Your eyes met his for a moment, before you started applying a smaller amount of lotion on the bruise surrounding his eye.  It was going to look a lot worse in the morning, but this would help with the pain now.

You hated that your heart ached for him right now.  You hated that you wanted to cry and hold him and make him feel better.  Because you were so fucking mad-

“I don’t understand,” The words suddenly spilled out of your mouth, as if your mind just couldn’t take them swimming around in your head anymore.  “I just- I- I don’t fucking get it”

He nodded, ducking his head down, only for you to lift it back up by his chin and continue with the lotion.

“I care about you, dumbass, and all I asked, which I thought was simple, all I asked was for you to stop with the fighting-”

“I know” He mumbled back.

You stared at him skeptically, wondering if he really did know, or if he’d show up again in a few weeks with the same battered face and guilty look in his eyes.  Richie didn’t look back at you.  He couldn’t.

“Who?” You asked, trying to soften your voice so he wouldn’t whither away from you like he was doing right now.

“You’re not gonna like it” Richie answered, fingers pinching at your bedsheets in an attempt to distract himself.  From the pain that burned across his whole face, or from the intensity in your eyes, he wasn’t sure, but he needed the distraction.

He hadn’t had a smoke in months, but it sounded pretty damn good right now.

“Well, newsflash, I don’t like any of this,” You told him.  “But I think I deserve to at least know what happened”

Of course you do, Richie hung his head in his hands.  You deserve so, so much better.

You watched as he rubbed his palms over his eyes, and it took everything in your power not to take his hands and hold them in yours, to tell him it was okay and you forgave him.

“Bowers”

He muttered the single word without even looking at you.  But he didn’t have to look at you to know exactly what you looked like in that moment.  You probably had a dropped jaw and furrowed brows.  Disappointment, disgust, anger, all displayed in one heartbreaking look.

“Richie…” You murmured without meaning to.  “Why? Why would you-”

“I had to, okay?” He shot up suddenly.  “I know that you hate it, and as soon as I swung I- I knew I fucked up, but I had to”

You wanted to argue it, argue that there’s always another option, that he can always walk away.  But you bit your tongue.  Something about the way he spoke told you that there was more to this than his stupidity.

“I’m sorry, (y/n/n), I am.  But I… I don’t regret it”

Your heart sunk all the way down to your stomach.  Richie had such a toll on your emotions and he didn’t even know it.

“Tell me what happened” You said quietly, and shifted closer to him.

You wanted him to know he had your undivided attention, and that he should have the chance to at least explain what happened.  You pulled your leg up to rest on the mattress, and turned your body to face him.

Richie looked at you before looking back down at his hand, which was now fisted in your blankets.

“Richie,” You hummed, brows furrowing as you saw how reluctant he was to opening up.  “Tell me” The words were so soft, it was almost inaudible.

You wondered what Henry could have done that Richie didn’t want to tell you about.  He must have really outdone himself.

“He was just talking shit-”

“Richie,” You cut off his bullshit before he could even start.  “Come on, the truth”  

“It’s not-”

“I deserve to know, Tozier! Whatever it is, I don’t care, okay? Just tell me-”

“He said you weren’t worth sleeping with!”

Just like that, you’d gotten him to snap.

And you shut up instantly, shocked by the outburst.  His words processed slowly in your head.

“He said it wasn’t worth trying because you’re- because you’re a slut, and it wasn’t fucking true!” Richie continued to yell.  Not at you, he just couldn’t contain his own anger anymore.

And you thought you were pissed.

“Motherfucker had your name in his nasty fucking mouth and he was telling his buddies fucking lies and I couldn’t- fuck I couldn’t walk away.  I should’ve fucking killed him”

You were staring at him, speechless.  You should’ve known it was about you, Richie was always so fiercely protective of you.  And Henry’s wouldn’t be the first nose that he’d broken protecting you.  But this wasn’t like before.  He’d beaten on your ex boyfriends after they broke your heart.  Henry hadn’t said or done anything to you, he was just doing what boys do.  (Make shit up because they think it makes them impressive when really they’re even shittier than they look)

“I didn’t mean to break your promise,” Richie huffed.  His face was slightly flushed after his mini tantrum.  His hands grabbed both of yours, holding them close to him.  “I’m so sorry I put you through this again”

You were still silent, but he knew this wasn’t a bad silence.  You were still processing, still trying to figure out how to forgive him while making sure this was the last time he crawls through your window looking like this.

“I hope you know that it came from a place of- of caring about you,” He added.  “Caring about you too much, I guess” He mumbled as an afterthought.

Your stupid lovesick heart skipped a beat at the sweet words.  Richie wasn’t one for words, at all, but he somehow managed to say the most loving things without even realizing it.

“I can’t promise it won’t happen again, that much is clear.  And if Bowers says one more goddamn thing about your ass I’ll fucking string him up- I will- but I can promise I’ll try, okay? I will, I’ll really try”

He squeezed your hands a little bit, hoping you believed him, hoping you trusted him.

Your eyes flickered between his for a moment, and you could see in them that he was being sincere, and that he was broken up over hurting you.

“You…” He started to speak, but trailed off unsurely.  “You deserve better” He finished.

His eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, before he turned away.

You shake your head, before you let go of one of his hands, and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, turning him to look back at you.

“(y/n/n)-”

You cut him off when you leaned in and gently kissed him, trying to be mindful of his split lip.

Richie’s eyes remained focused on your closed ones, too stunned to close them, or really kiss her back.

He wanted to kick himself when you pulled away.  He managed to miss his fucking chance because he was too slow to do anything about it.

Your eyes fluttered open in such a beautiful way Richie swore you were holding his heart in your perfect little hands.

His brows were furrowed like you’d confused him, and you absolutely had.  He hadn’t expected you to kiss him.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked breathlessly, and your cheeks burned pink.

Your shoulders raised a bit in a shrug, and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much.

“I just… wanted to” You whispered.

A smile twitched on the corner of Richie’s lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he pulled you in again, so he could kiss you right this time.

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than he’d imagined they’d be.  And he’d imagined countless times what they’d feel like.  Daydreaming in class, before he fell asleep, and being right by your side for the last seven years.

Kissing you was bliss.

He did it again, taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you impossibly closer.  He could feel your lips smiling against his own, and once again, his heart was beating out of his chest trying to get to yours.

“I’m in love with you, (y/n/n)” He murmured when you parted, and you laughed softly.

“That makes sense,” You replied, reaching a hand up to play with the curls on the back of his neck.  “And… I love you too”

Richie gave you a sunshine smile, which you couldn’t help but return.

“I’m still upset, by the way,” You told him, still playing with the curls.  “But only cause I’m tired of seeing you covered in bruises, okay?”

He nodded, and you leaned your cheek further against the palm of his hand.

“I promise to try” He said, and then raised his pinky.

You looked from his hand and then back to him, a slight glare in your eyes.

“Come on, just do it,” He urged, you rolled your eyes, but he was persistent.  “Just link fuckin’ pinkies with me”

With a giggle you hooked your pinky with his, and held it for a moment.

“You want to go get tacos now?” He asked, and you grinned, nodding your head.

“You read my mind” You answered, and followed him back out the window.

It dawned on you that Richie was both your lover and your fighter.  And he held those titles proudly.

As he took your hand and walked alongside you down the street, he decided there were no other title he’d want to be labeled, besides yours. ___

taglist: @thegr8kush​

xoxo ~ jordie

[wri0thesley]

I'd love to request more Naoya smut with him and a now pregnant!reader from that breeding fic because him busting a nut thinking about how good they'll look knocked up really made me feel some type of way!!! maybe reader-chan will even finally get a smooch from this HORRIBLE man. If you are not into doing continuations on requests no worries tho and thank you for your incredible writing as always, Nat!

reader can have a little smooch. as a treat. don’t let naoya hear you say he’s not a good husband <3

Expecting - Naoya x Fem!Reader (3.3k)

Both of you got what you wanted. Naoya got more than he bargained for. sequel to covet.

warnings: not sfw, minors dni! afab reader, fem pronouns. pregnancy sex, light lactation, misogyny, power imbalance, breeding kink, mentions of alcohol, naoya perhaps having some Feelings???.

[comments/reblogs are much appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

Naoya catches you every so often for the next month and you easily roll onto your back for him, helpless under the brush of his fingers and the snap of his hips. He smirks at you when he passes you in the corridor, but you have nothing to show for all of the times you’ve warmed his bed – yet.

When you do, though – when a month and a half passes, and you are beginning to feel sick in a morning, and your monthly bleed has still not made itself known – you go to Naoya with deference in your eye. Once a servant, always a servant – and you are not stupid. You know that what you carry inside you is a bargaining chip.

Naoya wants someone who will submit, and you want an end to the life of drudgery and roughened hands and back-breaking work, of being ignored or reviled or mocked for having the misfortune to not be born with Zenin as a surname. Naoya takes you to a private, discreet physician with an iron grip on your arm and his light eyes sharp.

It’s amazing, how quickly a man like Naoya Zenin can set things in motion – when it’s not simply confirmed that you’re carrying his child, but that you’re carrying his son. His heir.

It’s so easy for him.

Suddenly you are no longer a maid, but Naoya’s betrothed – and though the other members of the household look at you in disgust, knowing that you spread your legs for the title, none of them dare risk Naoya’s ire by being outright rude to you. He and his family spin it like silk; not that Naoya took advantage of a servant, but that you have been part of some grand, beautiful Cinderella story – that Naoya is in love with you.

(It’s probably for the better that the Zenins prefer servants who can see cursed spirits, at the very least – if you had not had any kind of talent for jujutsu, who knows what would have happened to you? Naoya would not have risked his son being born utterly ordinary).

And then you are Naoya’s wife. It wouldn’t do, of course, for the future head of the family to have his heir and son born out of wedlock, even if society have progressed enough that you falling pregnant with said son was before the betrothal. The latter is a disgrace; the former is a laugh over a cup of sake in the dark, a toast to Naoya’s virility, a wink-wink-nudge-nudge at how lucky Naoya is to have found someone who gives themselves up so utterly and completely and easily, including their virtue--

You know that Naoya is not in love with you. You are fairly certain that the only thing Naoya loves is his name, and the power imbued therein. Still. You share a bed with him, and you’re given silken kimonos and pretty hair ornaments and anything that you ask for, and you are . . .

Respected is not quite the right word. Not for a woman who is Naoya’s. Certainly, he does not respect you.

But you are not reviled, not ignored, not beholden to the demands of your betters. Now, you are one of the betters, and if your fellow servants are frustrated that they have to bow to you in deference, they do not dare show it knowing that if you asked Naoya, he would have them punished for the transgression.

You had perhaps thought that once you were bearing his child, Naoya would lose interest in you. You know as well as anyone that nobody would bat an eyelid at Naoya seeking his pleasure somewhere else; it’s almost expected of him to have a mistress, a concubine, to go and sow his wild oats just in case the one he has placed inside of you does not yield the crop expected--

But he doesn’t.

Naoya hates you out of his sight. He is always touching you; hands sliding over your hips, cupping where your bump has become soft and round and pronounced, snapping servants to attention if he thinks you look tired or wan or pale. You accompany him almost everywhere. He looks up from speaking to his father to seek you out, as if to reassure himself that you are still there – and some tension in his shoulders seems to drain away.

He is still Naoya, of course.

You are still swiftly reprimanded by him if you speak out of turn, he still gets servants to do anything for you so he doesn’t have to do it himself, you still walk three steps behind him with your head bowed unless he bids you to do something else – but as time goes on, and your hips widen and your stomach grows and you feel the baby kick, something in him softens.

And something else hardens.

His desire on your flesh, on your form, does not wane. You grow used to the feeling of tangled silken bedsheets below you, of Naoya’s handsome face above you, of the groan and the whine as he spills himself inside of you for the third time that night. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

That initial thrill, of being wanted by someone like Naoya, doesn’t fade at all, even though you too are now bowed to in the corridors and the people below you have to jump at your command. And Naoya is not cruel for no reason. Despite the arrogance in his tone, the condescension that drips off of his slow, drawling words, the particular way he has of raising one eyebrow and letting his gaze crawl over you – you have come to enjoy being his.

You did not want equality, after all. You knew your place.

You just wanted better – and Naoya has provided you that in spades.

He’s got his arms spread out over the pillows, his shoulders strong, his eyes hungry as he watches you strip off the kimono you have been wearing today. Your wardrobe now is the height of luxury; all beautiful embroidery, delicate colours, fabrics that cost more than your former monthly salary. Kimono are not made to cling to your body; though people can tell that you are pregnant, it does not over-emphasise your hips or the newly swollen, heavy breast, or the curve of your stomach. Those are things that Naoya never tires of seeing, as the fabric pools around your ankles and the hadajuban is discarded and so are your underwear, and you stand before him utterly bare and unmistakably carrying his child.

“Stay there,” he says, “let me look at you.”

You are a good, well-trained, obedient thing. You stand there as Naoya’s gaze roves over you, straying over and over again to where your hips have filled out even more, where your stomach is curved – where your breasts have begun to droop a little from how heavy and swollen with milk they are. He sighs as he looks you over, and it is the sigh of a man who is indeed very pleased with his work.

“You can move,” he says. He moves the covers off of him, and you are not surprised to see that he is bare; that his cock is already stirring, heavy and thick between his thighs. “Come.” He crooks a finger at you, and you are grateful to be able to move, to take the weight off your ankles as you’re permitted to sit on the bed beside him. His arms wrap around you – they are strong, and certain, and he holds you like you are his property.

Which you suppose you are. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder and he makes a soft huff of amusement, but doesn’t say anything about how brazen you are. You are permitted some special favours, now that you are Naoya’s, and now that you are fulfilling your purpose so beautifully.

Naoya’s lips brush your ear, his tongue lapping at the curve of your neck, the joint between throat and shoulder. You sigh prettily, the warmth of his mouth on you making you shiver. One of his hands curls around your breast, enjoying the heavy weight of you in his hand. Thumb and forefinger gently pinch your nipple.

He was rough with you the first time, but now he treats you like porcelain – and the idea that you are precious to Naoya Zenin sets your stomach aflame, makes your breath stick in your throat. He tugs at it softly, coaxing you to sigh, a drop of liquid leaking from the sensitive nub as you squirm backwards into his lap. His tone is lightly warning as he says;

“Come on, be good. It’s a good sign, sweetheart.”

He calls you sweetheart in front of other people and the ones who have bought this rags-to-riches Cinderella story exchange looks that say ‘isn’t she lucky?’. You hear the light edge in it, the smirk, the loftiness – but it always seems to break into something that’s almost fond, when he’s inside you and touching you and his teeth bite into your neck.

“Just that your body is doing what it’s supposed to do,” your other nipple is subjected to the same treatment, and you feel Naoya’s breath hitch, his cock stir behind you and dig into the small of your back. “I think the moment he’s in his nursery I’m going to fuck another son into you, dearest.”

“Mm?” You say, a little breathless as his hand goes lower. He sweeps his palm over the curve of your stomach, pausing where the skin is tight and swollen. His cock twitches once more at the reminder of how utterly his you are, and how wonderfully you are doing your purpose. How lucky he is, to have found someone submissive and well-trained and obedient and sweet, who looks so luscious full of him.

You drive him to distraction even when you don’t realise he’s looking at you.

“Thighs apart,” he grunts, into your ear, and you comply with the docile nature of someone raised to serve. He loves that about you. Loves, too, when he dips his fingers between your legs and your slick coats his digits, a soft whine catching in the back of your throat as he circles your clit and little shocks spark all through you, making you almost clamp your thighs back around his hand.

You do not, though. You are well-behaved. And you and Naoya have played this game enough times that you know that this is leading to relief for both of you.

One of his long fingers slides inside of you and you widen your thighs more, your soft whimper breaking and pitching – it’s such a servile, sweet little noise that Naoya cannot help but crook his finger, let it rub against the textured spot on your inner walls that has you clenching and gasping.

Since your pregnancy, you have become so sensitive. Naoya is the kind of man who hates working to pleasure a woman – who considers your orgasm a choice, and his a foregone conclusion. But with you swollen and full with his seed, he is slow and indulgent – and it is so easy, now that a brush of his palm makes you shiver and a tug of his teeth on your earlobe makes you gasp.

The finger is pulled out of you, and Naoya raises it to your lips, hooking his finger inside so you open your mouth and let him press your own slick onto your tongue.

Your tongue gently suckling at his finger reminds him of the insistent pounding of need inside of him; the stiff cock, leaking pre-come. He’d gotten so distracted touching you and enjoying you he’d almost forgotten about his own pleasure, and he sighs as he props himself up on pillows and reaches for you.

“Get comfortable,” he tells you.

His preference is to have you beneath him; that, he thinks, is his wife’s proper place. But it has begun to be difficult, with your stomach so distended – and he is nothing, he thinks to himself with more than a touch of smugness, if not an indulgent provider. A good husband.

(That’s what he thinks, anyway. You are not hurt. You get pretty things, and him in your bed, and the estate’s servants at your beck and call, an expensive wedding ring on your finger and the honour of his name affixed to yours, and his seed taking root inside of you. What else could you ask of him?)

So you are permitted to spread your knees, to climb on top of him – to gently sink your tight, wet, heat about his cock and seat yourself comfortably on the muscle of his thighs and the flat planes of his stomach.

“If you had my view,” he says, teasingly. “Mm, you were really made as breeding stock, weren’t you?” The words make heat rush to your face as he cups your hips in his hand again, squeezing the new covering of plush flesh that you’ve acquired since your pregnancy. “My wife.”

The words send a quiet thrill through you. You sigh as he bottoms out, as your body meets his entirely; your hands splaying on his shoulders. He is not flat against the bed – that position is too weak, not fitting for a man of his stature. But he is propped up with pillows behind him, so that he can admire how you look as your teeth bite into your plump bottom lip and you lift yourself just a little off his straining cock, before letting yourself fall back down.

He lets you set the pace. If you are to be permitted to ride him, he thinks, you may as well be the one doing all of the work. Part of him, too, is afraid of touching you too much – of hurting you, when you have something so precious inside of you. He would not admit that to himself – that’s not a thought process befitting of someone of his stature. But . . . it nibbles at the corners of his consciousness.

He cares about you. He does not want to hurt you. He does not want you to be uncomfortable – not when you are doing such a good job, when you are so lovely for him, when he is so grateful to have found you--

It’s no more than I deserve, he reminds himself.

And to brush back thoughts that are not proper for his elevation station in life, he lets himself watch the bounce of your breasts. Lets his fingers dig into the even softer, rounder thighs. Enjoys the sight of your mound bouncing on his cock, the feel of your slick walls clinging to his cock.

You are so beautiful, swollen with his child.

It is the first time he has ever looked at a woman and saw power in them. There is, he thinks, a power in what you have – in the glow about your skin, the brightness of your eyes, the curves and roundness and soft, supple flesh. The thought almost frightens him – but then, you push up again and your eyes meet his own for just a moment and he remembers that you are swollen with his child and have the power of him inside of you, and it becomes comforting.

Without him, you’d be nothing.

So he watches you with hungry eyes as you move your hips on his cock; as his length sinks inside of you, as you angle yourself just so – so that every stroke of your hips makes his cock rub against the place inside you that earlier had you seeing stars. Your breath is getting faster and faster, your fingers on his shoulders flexing as the tight string of your release is wound inexorably closer and closer.

Naoya allows himself a groan; a light thrust of his hips, in time with your own. The chase of your warm, tight walls as you try and pull away. He lets his gaze wander to how his cock is coated in your slick, all wet and shining in the light of the bedroom – and he is once more reassured. This is his. You are his. This wetness, this need – this is all for him. The way your body has changed is because of him.

His own release is creeping up on him.

Today, though, he decides he will be merciful – he reaches forward , curving his fingers just so, so that he can toy with your clit as you continue to fuck him. He rolls the bud with the pad of his fingers (soft; he wields just one weapon, and most people do not get to see it. Most of his harder work is done with his technique, and you have seen him apply expensive hand cream to keep himself handsome), knowing your body as well as he knows his own.

He prides himself on that, and you have spent enough nights in his bed that it is second nature to him. Women are predictable, he thinks, smirk on his face as your channel clenches around his hard cock and you come, whimpering out his name--

(In bed, he prefers Naoya-sama, and you are a good wife. Your tone is servile, soft, obedient – and in return, Naoya is almost sweet to you.)

He thrusts his hips roughly up into you, chasing his own release as your body spasms and trembles about him. You are still so tight; so hot and taut where the aftershocks are making you tremble. It’s the sight of your body, quivering under your release, that does it in the end.

Your hips and stomach and breasts and thighs, all rounded with the miracle of bearing life. All softened and plump; meek and pliant, a perfect little wife. His perfect little wife.

As he feels the tension inside of him snap, one of his hands winds about the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Naoya’s grunt of pleasure is lost in the kiss, his mouth against yours hard and hungry. He is not willing to give up his dominance even here – but . . .

He has not kissed you so intimately before.

He has always avoided your mouth, preferring his lips on your chest or neck – turning your face away if it had seemed you might go for his mouth (later on, he had not bothered – he knows you well enough now to know that you would not dare.)

He tastes like wine. Like fancy, expensive sweets; the kind that you could have never afforded before you were his, but he has had at his disposal for his whole life. Like a cross between freedom and a prison--

He groans as he fills you up; his cock twitching, shooting out thick ropes of his come to land thick and heavy in your insides. Your whimper at the sensation is lost in his mouth, but Naoya fails to miss it – the fingers around the nape of your neck stroke through your hair, almost comforting, as he pulls back from you.

His lips are shiny, full and pretty. The grin that he gives you is crooked – and though you know it should not, though you know you should hate him for being arrogant and cruel and considering you lesser than him, the grin sends a rush of affection all through you.

If you were sentimental, you would say that the affection is mirrored in his own pale eyes.

(Naoya is glad you are not; you cannot see, beneath the triumph that you are claimed and carrying his heir and the hunger for your body and the pleasure that you are exactly the kind of wife that he wanted, that perhaps he does care about you.)

“My little wife,” he says, and he brushes his thumb over your cheek, hot with the rush of blood. “You’re so good for me.”

And you’ll carry on being so.

You’re so lovely when you’re expecting.

[sanjoongie]

Vampire~! Wooyoung

ღBucket List event for @k-vanity​ ღPrompt: Explore an abandoned building ღPairing: Wooyoung (Hala Hala Era) x Reader (f) ღGenre: Vampire au + supernatural au, thriller au ღInspo: Lost Boys (movie), Drink it by The Boyz ღWord Count: 2,548 ღWarnings: scary elements, mentions of blood, child abuse, violence, death ღRated: 18+ for intense, dark themes

ღSummary: You’ve always wanted to explore an abandoned building and this summer you’re actually doing it. You pick an orphanage that had been closed since the 70’s, aware of the myths surrounding it. What you didn’t expect was to find a vampire in the process.

ᲦDedication: @mejuii​ @downtoamagicalland​ the best beta readers a gal could have, you give me the best feedback, i love yous

ღAuthor’s Note: summer strikes me also as horror movie time, so I tried to incorporate both themes, I hope you enjoy~!

Incubus~! Hongjoong↬ |  Anterior Chapter~! Wooyoung’s Past↬

It was summertime and you only had one thought on your mind: time to hit up your bucket list. The one idea you were most excited for was to explore an abandoned building. There was an orphanage that the locals swore was haunted. So with part skepticism and part interest in the unknown, you drove there.

You grabbed your bag full of important tools such as a flashlight, put your phone in your back pocket and slipped through a break in the fence. It took a moment for you to find a way in but eventually discovered someone else had smashed in one of the front windows, so you slipped in that way.

Once inside, you turned on your flashlight and looked around. The reception had faded paintings on the wall of cheerful characters but it didn’t seem spooky; simply abandoned. You meandered around a bit, pushing aside a swinging door, and followed a hallway, noting the small stickers that mimicked children’s footprints. How many children had followed this trail, wondering if they’d ever leave the orphanage?

You turned the corner with your flashlight raised high and the light reflected into eyes that shone a yellow ring like an animal. You screamed, the entity with the pair of eyes winced and you both flung yourself as far away as possible from each other. 

“Oh my god, you scared me!” As it turned out, there was another human being with you in this abandoned building. 

You raised your flashlight again, avoiding their face, to find that this wasn’t just a human being. He had tanned skin and dyed blonde hair but there was no mistaking his red eyes. You had stumbled upon a vampire in this abandoned building.

“Oh fuck,” You cursed softly.

The vampire gave you a toothy, cheeky grin. “First vampire, huh?”

“No, not my first vampire!” You denied immediately. You winced, that sentence sounding more dirty coming out of your mouth. “I just didn’t expect to find someone living in an abandoned building.”

“I don’t live here,” The vampire denied, “I just kinda, haunt it while it's daytime. For obvious reasons.”

“Well, I’m going to continue exploring, bye.” You gathered up your dignity and swung around another corner. 

“If you want--” Your flashlight hit his torso, revealing that he was wringing his hands, “--I know this place like the back of my hand. I could show you the cool rooms on the sixth floor.”

You attempted to think of any half ass rules you might have absorbed about vampires but the only thing your brain can come up with is an old Fae rule where knowing a name meant power so you went with that. “What’s your name?”

“Wooyoung,” The vampire said, biting his lip and looking like a sad puppy begging for a treat.

“Wooyoung.” You pursed your lips to the side in thought, “You haven’t attacked me yet, so I guess I can trust you.”

Wooyoung nodded very quickly, “You can trust me. I promise I won’t feed from you. Unless you ask me to. And then I might be tempted.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not gonna happen. Lead the way, Oh Knowledgeable One.”

Wooyoung excitedly scampered ahead of you, making you curse as you stumbled upon debris to keep up with him. “Up these stairs, come on!” 

After a few flights of stairs, your breathing caught up with you and you had to slow down. Something woosh-ed down the center of the stairwell and you looked upwards. Wooyoung’s blonde head appeared peeking over the railing for a moment and then disappeared. This was starting to feel less fun and more eerie. “Wait, Wooyoung, I’m not a supernatural being!”

“I’m waiting~” Wooyoung taunted you and you huffed in frustration.

You finally got to the sixth floor and a shiver went down your spine. The feeling was different up here. The reception had given you an abandoned vibe but you could feel something on the sixth floor. You swung your flashlight around to see if it gave you a hint of what occurred up here and you landed on a sign that said “Correctional Rooms”. You almost dropped your flashlight when you saw Wooyoung standing by the sign with his hands ruefully behind his back.

“They used to do all kinds of horrible things to the children here.” Wooyoung’s face spoke a thousand emotions: anger, sadness and regret. “Drug experiments. Electric shock therapy. Physical abuse for the children that simply wouldn’t let the first two happen. Can’t you feel the pain on this floor?”

You didn’t respond to Wooyoung but moved further down the hallway. You had heard all the stories. The horrible past Wooyoung was reciting and the rumors of the hauntings. It all seemed very real the way your goosebumps wouldn’t go away. Wooyoung followed close behind you. You gasped as your flashlight revealed a forgotten teddy bear. This was exactly what you were looking for and also nothing like you expected. The pessimistic side of you had been preparing to be very let down but you were not.

“No one ever comes here anymore. The ghost stories are sometimes a deterrent but mostly other people visit the same as you,” Wooyoung continued to fill the air with his chatter.

“Do you greet all your guests like me?” You said as a joke, in an attempt to dispel your fears. 

“I don’t greet any of them,” Wooyoung responded.

You whipped around, not liking his tone, but he was no longer behind you. “Wooyoung?” You called out.

“You’re different.” Wooyoung’s voice seemed to float in the air. 

“What makes me different?” You word vomit because you’re scared shitless now. What the fuck was going on?

“The other ones, they come here to mess with the ghosts. They aren’t here out of curiosity, they’re here to cause more pain. I don’t like them.” Wooyoung’s words should be reassuring you but they only make the hair on the back of your neck stand up more.

“Do any of the visitors leave this place?” You have the courage to ask.

“No,” Wooyoung informed you forlornly. 

“Am I leaving this place?” You asked with your heart beating in your throat.

Wooyoung appeared before you suddenly, making you jump. He laughed but it didn’t sound jovial. “That depends. What did you bring?”

How the hell did he…? You swallow down your fear and reach for the bag you had brought with you. “I know it’s not a lot but…” You pull a stuffed dog and a “Missing You” greeting card. “I just thought, this place seems more sad than scary. If there were any ghosts, perhaps they might appreciate a new stuffed animal and to know that someone cared about them.”

Wooyoung’s eyes are sorrowful. "I don't think anyone has done that before."

You swallowed but there was no moisture in your mouth. "Does that mean you're not going to kill me?"

Wooyoung grinned with the side of his mouth, "No, I don't think I'll kill you today." That sentence wasn't reassuring either.

You placed the stuffed animal and the card on the ground, pushing away any dust or garbage with your jean jacket sleeve, and stood up slowly. Your eyes were on Wooyoung, trying to gauge him. His emotions were written all over his face but it was his intentions that were hidden. 

“When you said you haunt this place…?” You let the question hang in the air, implications there for Wooyoung to read.

Wooyoung sent you a toothy grin, “You wanna test to see if I’m real or a ghost?”

You shrank away from him. “No thank you,” You declined softly.

The grin faded from his face and Wooyoung looked disappointed. “Oh, you’re no fun.”

There was something that didn’t sit well with you, however. “I can’t believe people come here with ill intentions.”

Wooyoung cocked his head, “Do you want to help me?”

You sent an unsure look to Wooyoung. “Help you how?”

“Help me here,” Wooyoung threw his arms out wide, “Be the tour guide.”

You paled at the suggestion. “You want me to lure people to their deaths?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “I’ll teach you about the orphanage, let you know certain details. You can charge people, it’ll be like a black market tourist attraction. And if anyone gets rowdy…” No visitors have ever left this place.

“Wooyoung, I’m not sure.”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in determination. “People should learn about this place. This should never happen again. Help the souls here.” He reached for your hands. “Help me.”

You don’t have the ability to say no to Wooyoung at that point, so you do exactly as he suggests. Word of mouth spreads in your city that there is a guide that can take you through the famous abandoned orphanage. You start a snapchat to set up tours. It’s mostly teenagers and young adults looking to get spooked. But there are a few out of towners and tourists that get in on it too. You start to make a little side hustle during the summer.

“The final year that the orphanage was open was a time of pure terror,” You informed the two twenty-something guys and the girl hanging off one of their arms. “The adults in charge knew that their time for their experiments was running out, so they upped their ante. By the time the orphanage closed… there were no more children alive.”

The girl shivered and clung harder to the guy she was with. Which triggered the guy’s toxic masculinity trait. He snorted in disbelief. “This entire place is a hoax.”

The other guy, whether trying to prove he wasn’t scared either or trying to impress the two he was with, kicked down a door in excitement. “Fuck you ghosts!”

You winced at the loud noise. “Come on, hasn’t this place gone through enough?”

The guy with the girl grinned. He extracted himself from her grasp and followed the first guy into the room. You could hear them making a mess and damaging whatever was in that room. The girl just giggled, like it was typical boys being boys. You felt sick to your stomach.

You only had a glimpse of Wooyoung’s blonde hair and felt your clothes be pulled as if a gust of wind was going through you. Then you heard a loud BANG and a small whimper. The girl called out two names, tentatively moving towards the room. When she saw what was inside, she screamed and then was yanked inside the room as well. The door closed with a finality that made your insides crawl. You knew you had to make yourself look at what had occurred in the room. You had to see for yourself who exactly Wooyoung was. 

Your mind couldn't function properly at first, in its own attempts to block out the horror. You identified the room as one where the orphans slept in. There were two beds opposite each other against a wall, one caved in in the middle and another upside down now. Children’s drawings had been ripped from the wall and laid face down on the dirty floor. It was sad for a children’s room, that much you knew, but it was made worse by the massacre. Three bodies surrounded Wooyoung, who was in the middle. When your eyes finally meandered onto him, he was wiping his lips with the heel of his hand, smearing blood across his cheek.

“Wooyoung,” You said his name in fear and in bewilderment.

Wooyoung smiled, tight and small. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

You wobbled your ankle, trying to will your eyes to fall on anything but the twisted bodies on the floor. “How do you know so much about this place?”

Wooyoung refused to meet your eyes. “The spirits--”

“--what does this room mean to you, Wooyoung?” You cut him off. You wanted some straight answers to the theory that had been forming in your mind since you had agreed to play as tour guide and Wooyoung had taught you some very specific details about the orphanage. 

Wooyoung breathed in and out deeply. “This was my room. I shared it with another boy, Yeosang. We--we went through a lot in this place but at least we had each other at the end of the day. Until… until I got adopted. I had to leave Yeosang behind. I vowed to come back but… by the time I was able to, this place was already shut down. And Yeosang was nowhere to be found. The records were purged, of course, this place was too nasty to leave anything behind. I hoped--” Wooyoung’s teeth dug into his bottom lip, holding in his sobs. “--I hoped Yeosang had got adopted too. But eventually--”

A shimmering form appeared in front of Wooyoung. The shape was roughly the size of a child, hitting Wooyoung mid-chest. “When I get out of here, you’ll follow me, right Wooyoung?”

Tears poured from Wooyoung’s eyes, except where there was water for a human, the only bodily fluid inside Wooyoung was blood. They made red rivulets down his cheeks. “I’ll follow you anywhere you go, Yeosang.” His hand moved to settle on the ghost’s head but simply passed right through it.

Your heart felt like it was tearing out of your chest. You had known, deep down inside, that the orphanage wasn’t simply a place that Wooyoung had ended up at. But you had never pried for any more information than what Wooyoung was willing to volunteer. But this was devastating to learn.

“You’ve done your best, Woo,” You said in a low voice. Your feet moved and you found yourself closer to Wooyoung than was necessarily safe. 

“Have I?” Wooyoung’s eyes finally met yours. He was sad and it echoed in his eyes and also along his face. 

You nodded. “Teaching others of this place, protecting the ghosts and showing no mercy to anyone who dare taint this place any further--you’ve done your duty.”

Wooyoung smiled again, this one bitter-sweet. “If only Yeosang could see me now.”

“I see you,” You said with as much assurance as you could muster.

Wooyoung wiped away his blood-tears and his eyes got serious. “Would it be gross that I wanna kiss you right now.” His eyes lowered to stare at your lips.

You pushed them inward and Wooyoung huffed a laugh at your attempt to hide them. “Is it gross that I kinda want you to kiss me?”

Wooyoung let out a bright laugh that almost seemed to banish the shadows in the room. “We’re weird.”

“Woo,” You said softly, cupping his face.

Wooyoung tipped his head and your lips met. His lips tasted metallic but they were gentle and his hands slipped along your waist. You broke apart but your foreheads remained touching. “I think I love you, weird girl who explores abandoned buildings.”

You couldn't help but laugh back at him. “I think I’m in love with you too, weird vampire who protects ghost children.”

Wooyoung’s hands gripped your upper arms suddenly, his eyes worried. “You’ll stay with me forever, right?”

You swallowed, well aware of what Wooyoung was subtly asking. But just like when Wooyoung asked you to be the tour guide, you knew you did not have the ability to say no to him…

Incubus~! Hongjoong↬ |  Anterior Chapter~! Wooyoung’s Past↬