#its been a year since i finished that one

[darksturnz]

IN YOUR ORBIT

CONTENTS:・fluff? angst?-heavy plot (¿¿¿) ・star!reader ・bambi!madison ・artist!chris・sappy sappy sappy ・artist!chris gets a smidge corny but ITS CUTEE I SWEAR 😿 + more WC:4.2k

this song literally has been my top song in my spotify wraps since it was released. please listen on loop :3!

The treehouse sat nestled behind Madison’s house, its edges worn by years of weather and love. Its faded wood blended with the trees surrounding it, and the faint golden glow of string lights woven along the beams made it feel like something out of a dream. The creek gurgled softly nearby, its sound underscoring the quiet retreat Star had created for herself. She hadn’t left this sanctuary in a week. She hadn’t gone back to the trailer park, hadn’t faced the mess waiting for her there. Instead, she stayed here, wrapped in the safety of Madison’s presence.

Inside, the treehouse was cluttered with years of memories: old books with dog-eared pages, throw blankets, faded cushions, and now, Star’s cat, Comet, who had claimed a corner as his personal kingdom. His litter box sat discreetly in one corner, his food and water bowls lined up neatly beside a blanket she’d brought from home. He was sprawled lazily on one of Madison’s pillows, his black fur blending seamlessly with the worn fabric as he watched the girls with a contented air.

Madison sat cross-legged by the window, her guitar resting on her lap as she plucked at the strings, trying to tune them. Star lay on her stomach near the center of the room, flipping through one of Madison’s journals without any real focus. Her eyes skimmed over the half-finished song lyrics, doodles, and scattered thoughts, but her mind felt too crowded to take any of it in. She wasn’t ready to think about Chris or Danny or the complicated mess that connected them all. The idea of going back to the trailer park made her chest tighten.

Madison hadn’t said anything about it. She hadn’t asked why Star wasn’t going home or pressed her for answers. Instead, she’d quietly made the treehouse feel as welcoming as possible. A portable heater hummed in the corner, keeping the space warm despite the winter chill outside. A lavender-scented candle flickered on a small shelf, its faint aroma mingling with the earthy scent of the creek and the wood. Madison just kept things easy, offering quiet companionship without demands, and Star was grateful for it.

“You’re being too quiet,” Madison said softly, breaking the quiet strum of her guitar. She glanced at Star with a knowing look.

“What’s there to say?” Star mumbled, not looking up.

Madison adjusted one of the guitar strings, the sound twanging sharply in the stillness. “I dunno, just checking in I guess,” she said lightly, though her gaze lingered on Star a moment longer.

Star shrugged, her fingers idly flipping another page. “I’m fine.”

It was a lie, and Madison knew it. But she didn’t press. She just returned her attention to the guitar, her fingers moving deftly as she strummed out a soft melody. The sound filled the space, soothing in its familiarity. Madison’s music had always had a way of quieting Star’s thoughts, and tonight was no different. Star let the notes wash over her, her body sinking deeper into the cushion beneath her.

Comet chose that moment to leap onto Madison’s lap, his paws landing squarely on the strings with an audible thud. Madison laughed, pulling him away gently and holding him up to eye level.

“Your son is terribly unaware of manners,” she teased, setting him down on the floor beside her.

Star grinned, propping herself up on her elbows. “He’s the most well-behaved man in my life. Leave him alone.”

Madison raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “That’s depressing.”

Star shrugged again, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Yeah, well. It’s the truth.”

Madison rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. She gave the guitar another strum, then set it aside, leaning back against the wall. “This place has seriously seen better days,” she said, gesturing at the treehouse around them.

“S’perfect,” Star said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Madison looked at her for a long moment, her expression softening. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I guess it is.”

The air between them settled again, the kind of comfortable silence that only years of friendship could create. Star closed her eyes, letting the quiet hum of the creek and the faint rustle of the wind outside lull her into a sense of calm. Madison picked up the guitar again, strumming idly, the soft notes blending seamlessly with the sounds of the night.

“You haven’t sung for me in forever,” Star said after a while, her voice barely above a murmur.

Madison glanced at her, her fingers pausing on the strings. “What do you want to hear?”

Star opened her eyes, her gaze drifting to Madison’s hands. “You know what I want.”

Madison froze, her fingers stilling. “Seriously?”

Star nodded, her lips twitching into a small smile. “It’s your favorite. And… it’s kinda ours, isn’t it?”

Madison hesitated, her expression unreadable. Then, with a soft sigh, she adjusted her grip on the guitar. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But don’t judge me if I mess it up.”

Star didn’t answer, just leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes again. Madison wouldn’t mess it up, she never did. 

The first notes of We’ll Never Have Sex filled the space, tentative at first but growing stronger as Madison found her rhythm. Her voice was soft, almost shy, but it carried an unpolished beauty that made Star’s chest ache. The lyrics hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

For Madison, the song was an outlet, a way to express everything she couldn’t say out loud. For Star, it was a reminder of safety and love, of the kind of connection that didn’t come with expectations or strings. As Madison sang, Star felt something in her chest loosen, the weight she’d been carrying for days easing just slightly.

By the time Madison reached the second chorus, Star had shifted closer, her head resting against Madison’s shoulder. Madison didn’t stop playing, but she glanced down at Star, her expression softening. She kept singing, her voice steady even as her heart raced.

When the song ended, the treehouse fell silent except for the faint crackle of the heater and the soft purring of Comet. Madison set the guitar aside, her fingers lingering on the strings.

“I missed that, Your voice” Star said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

Madison shrugged, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not all that and a bag of chips.”

“It is,” Star insisted, sitting up slightly. “That song—what it means… It’s everything. You’re everything.”

Madison swallowed hard, her heart racing. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Star’s face. “I just want you to feel… loved,” she said quietly. “Like you matter. Because you do.”

Star’s lips twitched into a small smile. “You make me feel that way, Mads. Always.”

Madison didn’t trust herself to speak, so she pressed a soft kiss to Star’s temple, letting the moment speak for itself.

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and full of unspoken understanding. But eventually, Madison broke it, her voice hesitant.

“You should talk to him,” she said.

Star frowned, her brows knitting together. “Talk to who?”

Madison gave her a knowing look, and Star’s face fell as realization dawned. “No. Absolutely not.”

Madison’s expression didn’t change. “I’m not saying what he did was okay. It wasn’t. But he’s become a safe place for you, Star. And you deserve as many of those as you can get.”

Star hesitated, her defenses cracking. “What if it’s not safe anymore?”

Madison shook her head, her voice firm but gentle. “You miss him. And Lila. Don’t let your pride keep you from something good.”

The words sat heavily between them, and for the first time in days, Star allowed herself to consider them. By the time she agreed, the sun was beginning to set. 

Star left the treehouse with reluctance, her steps heavy as she made her way down the old wooden steps. Comet stayed behind, curled into a ball in his makeshift corner, purring softly. Madison leaned against the doorframe, watching her go with an expression that was equal parts worry and hope. She didn’t say anything as Star started down the path toward the trailer park, but her presence lingered, like a steadying hand on Star’s back.

The air was crisp, biting against her cheeks, but Star welcomed it. The chill helped distract her from the storm of thoughts swirling in her head. Each step closer to the trailer park felt like an admission of defeat, though she wasn’t sure what she was surrendering to—Chris, herself, or the ache that had settled in her chest since their fight.

The world around her was quiet, the only sounds coming from the crunch of gravel beneath her boots and the occasional rustle of leaves in the trees. It was the kind of silence that invited reflection, whether she wanted it or not.

Her mind drifted to moments with Chris. The sharpness of his dry humor, the way he moved through the world like he was trying to go unnoticed, and the rare softness he reserved for Lila. She thought about the way his hands were always busy—sketching, tinkering with the car, rolling blunts—and how those same hands had brushed hers when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She thought about the quiet nights on his porch, words left unsaid between them, and how that silence had felt comforting until it hadn’t.

Her chest tightened as the trailer park came into view, its familiar outline stirring up everything she’d been avoiding all week. She clenched her fists at her sides, bracing herself for the weight of what was waiting for her there.

As she turned onto their shared street, her steps faltered. Chris was already there, standing in front of her trailer. He looked out of place in the streetlight’s glow, his broad shoulders slouched and his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. He seemed caught between leaving and knocking, his hesitation palpable even from a distance.

Star ducked behind a tree, watching him. She knew she shouldn’t, but her feet stayed planted, her body frozen. He lifted his hand, hesitated, and then let it fall. The second time, his knuckles brushed the door, the sound barely audible even in the quiet.

The door opened to Danny, whose irritation was visible in the stiff set of his shoulders. Star’s breath caught, and she stepped back instinctively, her back pressing against the rough bark of the tree. She couldn’t hear their words, but she didn’t need to. Chris’s body language said it all. His shoulders were hunched, his posture smaller than usual. Danny’s crossed arms and narrowed eyes were all dismissal.

Chris said something low, his voice too soft to carry, and Danny’s expression hardened. He responded with something curt before stepping back and slamming the door. Chris stood there, unmoving, for a long moment. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration before turning to leave.

That’s when he saw her.

Star froze, her breath hitching as his gaze locked onto hers. His surprise was clear in the way his body tensed, his feet halting mid-step. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Star stepped out from behind the tree, keeping a cautious distance between them.

“Hey,” Chris said, his voice quiet, almost unsure.

“Hi,” she echoed, the word barely more than a breath.

He glanced toward her trailer, then back at her. “You heading home?”

She shook her head. “No.”

The silence between them stretched, heavy and taut. Star dug her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie, her nails pressing into her palms as she searched for the right words. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Can…can we talk?”

Chris’s eyes flickered, something like relief crossing his face before he nodded. “Yeah.”

They walked in silence to the old playground at the edge of the park, their steps slow and careful, like they were afraid to break whatever fragile truce had formed between them. The swings creaked softly in the breeze, the rusted chains groaning under their weight. Star sat on one of the swings, her fingers curling around the cold metal, while Chris settled on the bottom step of the slide, a few feet away.

The silence stretched between them again, the quiet almost unbearable.

“I’m sorry,” Star said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chris’s head snapped up, his brow furrowing. “Don’t,” he said, his voice rough.

She looked at him, startled by the sharpness in his tone.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, quieter this time. He stared at the ground, his hands clasped tightly between his knees.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“You were trying to help,” he interrupted, his voice tight. “And I… I shouldn’t have said what I said.” He shifted uncomfortably, his hands running through his hair. "I felt cornered. Embarrassed. You were just... trying to help, and I threw it back at you. I got defensive because... because this is what I do. And it's fucking humiliating. But I have to do it, Star. For them. It wasn’t about you. I just… I can’t—” He stopped, his words catching in his throat.

Star waited, giving him the space to continue, but when he didn’t, she spoke. “I get it, you’re taking care of them,” she said softly. “ But it felt like you were pushing me away.”

Chris’s jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on the ground. “I was,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

The honesty in his words hit her like a punch to the gut. She looked down at her hands, the chains of the swing digging into her palms. “Why?”

Chris exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Because it’s easier,” he said finally. “To push people away. To fuck things up before they can…” He trailed off, his voice cracking.

“Before they can what?”

He didn’t answer. His hands flexed, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the step.

Star felt tears sting her eyes, but she blinked them back. “You hurt me,” she said, her voice trembling. “I thought you…I thought maybe you let me in, but then you just… shut me out. Like I didn’t matter.”

Chris’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. They were filled with so much guilt, so much regret, that it nearly took her breath away. “You do matter,” he said, his voice raw. “More than you know.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Star looked away, her hands trembling as she gripped the chains tighter.

“ m’not good at this,” Chris said finally, his voice low and hesitant. “At… people. At letting them in. Not anymore,” He paused, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “But you… you’re different. You’re not like anyone else.”

Star’s breath hitched, her chest tightening at his words. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for something—anything—to hold onto.

“M’working on it though.. don’t give up on me yet,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, the rawness in his expression. She reached out, her hand brushing his lightly. “I won’t,” she said softly.

For a moment, they just sat there, the quiet between them wrapping around them like a blanket, heavy with the weight of everything unspoken and everything they couldn’t quite find the words to say.

Chris’s voice broke the stillness, so soft it almost melted into the night. “You’re like..every star in my sky, you know that?”

Star blinked, her breath catching in her chest. She turned to look at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “What does that make you?”

He hesitated, his lips pressing together like he was weighing the words, then let out a quiet, almost shy laugh. “I dunno…maybe just the sky,” he murmured. “Big, empty… but you—you light it up. You make it mean something.”

Her heart ached in a way that was both painful and sweet, like it was trying to hold too much all at once. “You’re not empty,” she said softly, shaking her head. “You’re not.”

Chris’s eyes lifted to hers, the guarded walls he always carried stripped away, leaving behind something raw and achingly sincere. “I just… I don’t know what I’d do without them. Or you. I don’t think I want to find out.”

She smiled then, her lips trembling as warmth spread through her chest. “You don’t have to,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “You’re stuck with all of us, Sturniolo.”

His faint, lopsided smile returned, but this time it reached his eyes.

Star leaned back slightly, letting her gaze drift up to the night sky. The stars were scattered like pinpricks of light, distant and beautiful. “You’re the moon for me,” she said softly, almost to herself.

Chris tilted his head, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. “Yeah? How’s that?”

“Because even when it’s dark, you’re still there,” she murmured, her voice steady. She turned to him, her eyes shimmering in the soft light. “You always find a way to be there.”

Chris didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached out slowly, his hand brushing hers where it rested on the swing’s chain. His touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he had the right, but when her fingers curled around his, the tension in his shoulders eased.

Star’s chest swelled with something too big to name, and as she looked at him, she realized the ache she’d carried all week had finally started to ease. Whatever this was—whatever they were—it wasn’t perfect, but it was real.

The walk back to the trailers was slow and unhurried, the crisp night air weaving around them as if it were trying to push them closer. Star’s boots kicked at stray pebbles, her thoughts swirling as the silence stretched between them. Finally, she glanced at Chris out of the corner of her eye.

“What were you doing at my trailer?” she asked, her voice careful but curious.

Chris’s steps faltered for a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets. He shrugged, the motion almost boyish, but the tips of his ears betrayed him, flushing a faint red. “Was seeing if you were home yet.”

Star stopped walking, her brow furrowed. “Yet?” she echoed, her voice tinged with confusion.

Chris hesitated, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground now, like it might swallow him whole. “Yeah,” he muttered, shifting his weight awkwardly. “been over there a couple times. Y’know, to apologize. After you took a while to respond to the drawing.”

“The what?” Star’s confusion deepened, her head tilting slightly.

Chris looked up, his expression caught somewhere between embarrassment and disbelief. “The drawing. The one I slipped through your window?” he said, his voice quieter now, his usual confidence muted. “I just figured you saw it and didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Star blinked at him, her mouth opening and closing for a moment before she found her voice. “Chris,” she said slowly, “I haven’t been home to see it.”

His expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and something softer, though he quickly tried to mask it with a shrug. “It’s no big deal now,” he said, his voice carrying a forced nonchalance. “Was just a stupid doodle asking to talk.”

Star stepped closer to him, her lips quirking into a small, teasing smile. “You really need to work on your apology skills, maybe hand it to me next time.”

Chris huffed a quiet laugh, the sound low and genuine, and it sent a flutter through Star’s chest. “Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Will do.”

As they neared her trailer, the conversation slowed, the quiet settling over them once again. When they reached her door, Chris stopped, turning to look at her. For a moment, they just stood there, the faint hum of the night filling the space between them.

“I missed you,” Star said softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Chris’s gaze darted to hers, his usual guardedness cracking. His cheeks turned red again, but this time he didn’t look away. “Yeah? The trailer’s been a little quiet without you barging in all the time,” he admitted, his voice gruff but laced with something warmer, softer.

The words settled over her like a balm, easing the ache that had lingered in her chest for days, he was terrible with his words but she knew what he was getting at. She smiled, stepping a little closer. “Where’s Lila?” she asked, glancing toward his trailer.

Chris leaned against the railing, his hands still tucked into his pockets. “She’s at a sleepover,” he said. “Some kid from school invited her over. First one she’s ever gone to, actually.”

Star smiled at that, imagining Lila’s excitement. “Good for her,” she said, her voice warm.

Chris nodded before glancing at her again. “Where’ve you been staying?”

“With Madison and Comet,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Tucked away in a treehouse.”

Chris arched a brow, the faintest hint of amusement flickering across his face. “A treehouse? That sounds very… you.”

Star nudged his arm lightly, rolling her eyes. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

But Chris’s smile faded slightly, his expression turning thoughtful. “You stayed away because of me,” he said quietly, more a statement than a question.

Star looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “It wasn’t just you,” she murmured, though they both knew that wasn’t entirely true.

Chris reached out, his fingers brushing against hers, hesitant but steady. “I’m sorry,” he said again, the words barely audible but carrying the weight of everything he couldn’t say.

Star looked up at him, her chest tightening. And before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in, her lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft, tentative, but full of all the things they couldn’t find the words for.

Chris froze for half a second before he kissed her back, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, warm and steady. When they pulled away, their foreheads rested together, and for the first time in days, Star felt like she could breathe again.

“C’mon,” Chris said after a moment, his voice still soft but steadier now. “Let me take you back to Madison’s.”

Star hesitated, her pulse quickening. 

Chris gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll go slow. Promise.”

After a moment, she nodded, and he led her to his car.

As Chris pulled up in front of Madison’s house, the car hummed to a stop. Star reached for the door handle, but before she could push it open, Chris had already slipped out of his seat and rounded the hood.

She blinked at him as he opened her door, the quiet chivalry catching her off guard. “You didn’t have to—”

He shrugged, cutting her off with a lopsided smile. “Just wanted to.”

Star stepped out, her boots crunching softly against the gravel. Before she could thank him, Chris leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. It was brief but full of something unspoken, the warmth of his hand resting lightly on her back grounding her in the moment.

Above them, nestled in the soft glow of the treehouse lights, Madison sat frozen. She’d been lounging on the worn cushions, a book open on her lap, when the sound of a car pulling up caught her attention.

Curiosity had drawn her to the window, her gaze slipping past the familiar outline of the treehouse railing. At first, the car didn’t register as anything more than an unexpected visitor. But then the passenger door opened, and Madison saw the guy step out.

Her heart fluttered as she watched him walk around the car, his movements easy but purposeful. He opened the passenger door, his head tilting toward the figure stepping out. Madison’s breath caught as the girl emerged, her silhouette illuminated faintly by the moonlight.

The guy leaned down, pressing a kiss to the girl’s lips, and Madison’s stomach twisted, the scene unfolding like a blow she hadn’t seen coming. She was about to look away, unwilling to invade their privacy any further, when the girl turned, her face catching the faint glow of the moon.

Madison’s heart stopped.

It was Star.

The book in Madison’s lap tumbled to the floor, but she didn’t notice. Her chest tightened, her breath shallow as she watched her best friend kiss Chris. The kiss was soft, nothing over the top, but it was enough. Enough to confirm what Madison hadn’t seriously wanted to admit to herself.

Madison pressed her lips together, forcing herself to look away. She felt guilt pooling alongside the ache in her chest, guilt for watching, guilt for the bitterness she couldn’t push down.

When she dared another glance, Chris was walking Star up the path toward the house, their conversation too quiet to hear. Madison swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the edge of the cushion. She felt like a stranger looking in, someone on the outside of something she couldn’t touch.

As Star turned to wave at Chris before he left, the warmth in her smile was unmistakable, and it only made the ache in Madison’s chest deepen. She forced herself to step back from the window, her heart heavy, and sat down on the cushions again, her head lowering into her hands.

It wasn’t jealousy, she told herself, not really. It was just the ache of knowing she’d lost something she never really had to begin with.

AUTHORS NOTE: this song GENUINELY makes me crash out my god. anyways you can all stop jumping me in my ask now pls, he fixed it it’s fixed they’re married with 38464923874 children in another alternate universe 😿

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @mattsmunch @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @bluestriips @sturniolo-fann @chrisslut04 @owensbabygirl @sturnslutz @sturniqlo @sofieeeeex @jadasmp4 @ncm9696

[bitchface24-7]

MY HEROS - JAYVIK X READER

submission for @pebble-bb

synopsis: You and your two partners finally scheduled a day off to just relax. Work in the lab hasn't gone anywhere due to stress and frustration. You're excited to have a full day to just rewind and be with the two men you love. Until a spider ruins your day.

warnings: reader has arachnophobia (specifically requested), Viktor and Jayce comfort the reader, Viktor deals with the spider, and honestly fluff all around, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I understand your frustration at portrayals of bug phobias Pebble. I too have arachnophobia and my mum teases me about it. I'm going to use my story from my childhood on how I became scared of spiders in this story. Don't worry, no brushing off or teasing here! Pure self-indulgent comfort!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s been so long since you three have had a proper day off. Honestly being able to sleep in and have the warmth of the sun wake you up rather than an annoying alarm has already put you in a much better mood. Jayce making breakfast as you and Viktor enjoy sweet milk at the kitchen nook is even better.

You get to watch Jayce dance around the kitchen in nothing but pyjama pants and a frilly pink heart-adorned apron. Viktor got it as a gag gift for Jayce a few years ago now, but Jayce unironically loved it, purely because Viktor gave it to him. Now, whenever Jayce cooks, that apron is on.

Viktor and Jayce are in a heated debate regarding which egg type is best. You just smile at them and finish your sweet milk, going to the reading nook you three set up. It’s cozy. Dark wood, little lamps on the wall, a wall of windows, and deep purple bedding that's soft to the touch. You can't recall how many times a pair of you or all three of you squished into this nook to just read in each other's presence.

You pick up the book you've been dying to read, now finally having a full day off to enjoy it, when something catches your attention in the corner of your eye.

It’s a spider.

It’s about the size of a hexgem, fluffy, and black. You think it is a tarantula; they're harmless, honestly good for catching houseflies and mosquitoes. But its a spider none the less, and you're anxiety has spiked ten fold. You just stare at the spider as you slowly lower your book and make your way back to the kitchen, not taking your eyes off of it.

Eventually, you make it back to the kitchen to spot your two partners, still arguing about eggs.

“Scrambled is the best!”

“If you like your eggs to feel like rubber! Sunny side up is the best!”

“If you like to make a mess like a child, you— Darling. What's wrong?”

Their argument ceases at the sight of you. You look like a child in all honesty. The way you're wringing your hands and shuffling on your feet.

“Sorry, I— I didn't mean to bother you guys on our day off but there's a spider in the reading nook and—”

Viktor casually stands up, grabbing his cane to walk with you, “and you want one of us to deal with it.”

“Yes please.” you lightly nod.

You and Viktor walk to the nook as Jayce continues to make breakfast. The walk is short but to you a pit of doom encapsulates your stomach. What if the spider moved? What if its closer than before? What if—

Your panicking thoughts are stopped once you see the spider hasn't moved, and Viktor reaches up and puts it in his hand, cupping the spider with his other hand.

“Darling, could you be a dear and open one of those windows for me? So I can put the spider outside?”

Without question, you rush to the window and open it. It’s lightly raining but you'd rather deal with a lightly damp windowsill than that fuzzy beast.

Viktor ambles over and puts his hands outside the window, allowing the spider to leave his palm. It walks out calmly, over the windowsill and up the apartment building. Viktor casually puts his hands back into the apartment and closes the window.

And with that, your anxiety is gone.

“Sounds like Jayce is done with breakfast, why don't we clean up a bit and join him at the table, hmm?”

All you can do is gratefully nod.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As you and Viktor come back to the main part of the apartment, you see your seats are already set up. Your eggs are done to perfection. In the center of the table is a bowl of berries, a plate of buttered toast, and a plate of bacon.

“Is everything okay?” Jayce asks, a concerned tone evident in every syllable.

The two of you just nod and take your seats, “It was a spider.”

Jayce hums at Viktor's response, “Gotcha. You doing good babe?”

“I’m good. Thanks for not teasing me.”

Viktor and Jayce look at each other in confusion, “Why would we tease you?”

You sigh heavily as you go to drink another glass of sweet milk, “When I was little, about four years old, I was in the apartment alone. My parents were outside on the balcony, and a massive tarantula was crawling towards me. I mean like— the size of my fist big. That's pretty fucking big for a four-year-old. I was screaming and crying because I had never seen a spider that big before, my mum heard me panicking and killed the spider with a can of air freshener. Ever since then, I've been afraid of spiders. Other bugs get to me too like wasps, and centipedes. But spiders take the cake. My mum teases me every time I squick out over a spider, or bug in general.”

Viktor and Jayce hum in understanding, “That is quite scary, especially as a four-year-old. That type of fear is completely understandable.”

“Yeah!” Jayce adds as he puts a hand over yours, “We’d never make fun of you for something like that. Would you make fun of us? Would you make fun of my fear of the cold and snow storms?”

“What?!” you gasp appalled, “Absolutely not!”

Viktor chims in, “Would you make fun of my fear of being forgotten?”

“No!”

The two men smile sweetly at you, “Then we're not going to make fun of your fear of spiders. We all have fears, they're a natural part of life.”

And with that, the three of you eat breakfast in peace. Well relative peace. Jayce and Viktor are now arguing about which type of chocolate is better.

You wouldn't change this for the world, you sigh contently as you sip your sweet milk, looking lovingly at the two men in your life.

You wouldn't change a goddamn thing.

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I hope y'all enjoyed this little fluffy ball of goodness! Especially you @pebble-bb!! This is the first submission I've ever gotten and I hope I did this right. It didn't come to my inbox like an ask so I just made a new file and ensured Pebble was @’d LOL.

Anyways, continue with the asks/submissions! I currently have four drafts waiting to be worked on LMAO, should I make a greeting post and pin it with rules and all that stuff? I'm honestly down to write whatever, but if something does squick me out I'll deny it.

[rhiannonsknife]

okay, i don't wanna give spoilers, since you said you hadn't finished it, so.. first episode feels safe ??

fucking your cousin's is normal. it's a vault, there's limited selection. nobody blames you. but fucking your best friend.. well, that's a little much for lucy. not because your a girl. no, that's not- that has nothing to do with it, she promises. she just doesn't want to change your bond, that's all.

or super convoluted way to say lucy has a crush on you and refuses to admit it. mayb ?? idk if this makes sense sorry

also first ask i've sent that's not just conversation, so.. should probably put a name to my claim.

- 🦴 ( if possible </3 )

── KISS ME ONCE, THEN KISS ME TWICE, THEN KISS ME ONCE AGAIN

— summary: you and lucy decide to ‘practice’.

— warnings: friends to lovers. mostly fluff with some nsfw-ish content. so mdni.

the hum of the vault’s fluorescent lights buzzes overhead, the sound so constant it’s easy to forget it’s there at all until everything else is silent.

you and lucy are sprawled on the bed in her quarters, your shoulders pressed together as you share the same faded book, its pages worn from years of careful reading. the vault’s limited library doesn’t get restocked, after all.

“you ever think about what’s out there?” you ask suddenly.

lucy doesn’t look up from the pages, though her grip tightens slightly, the paper under her thumb crumbling. “not really,” she lies.

“come on!” you press, nudging her with your elbow. “you’ve never wondered what it’s like? the open sky, fresh air…”

at that, she snorts. “fresh air? you know the stories! it’s nothing but radiation and monsters out there!” lucy flips the page, her eyes fixed on the paragraph in front of her.

you roll onto your side, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at her. “you don’t think everyone out there is bad. you’re too nice for that!”

she finally glances at you, her lips quirking into a small smile. “you think i’m nice?”

“well, of course,” you say, your tone teasing. “i mean, you could just tell me to shut it and read the book, but here we are!”

lucy laughs, a quiet, breathy sound, and looks back down at the book. she doesn’t turn the page.

“okay, maybe i do think about it,” she admits after a moment.

it reminds you of childhood. of sitting in the quiet dark of the quarters, exchanging hushed secrets in the comfort of her presence.

“but not the way you do! you’ve got this whole…” she gestures vaguely, her eyes flicking back to yours. “…adventure thing in your head. like the outside world’s just waiting for you to show up and save it single-handed!”

“and you don’t?”

“nope.” she smiles. “i mean- eventually. once it is safe for all of us to return back. maybe our children will?” she clears her throat and nudges you with her shoulder. “anyway, why would i want to leave when I’ve got you around to drive me crazy?”

you grin, making a point of ignoring the way her words make your heart flutter. “lucky, lucky you!”

“don’t i know it?” she says, rolling her eyes, but her smile lingers, softer now.

the silence settles again, this time heavier with the book no longer her only focus. you don’t notice but lucy’s eyes keep darting your way, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the paper.

she’s fighting a battle in her head. one she’s been losing for weeks, maybe months.

lucy’s been told, more than once and by multiple sources, that making out with your cousin, for example, is normal. perhaps expected, even, just to have some sort experience secured.

but wanting you? her best friend ever since she can remember? that’s something different. something that makes her palms sweat and her stomach twist in ways she can’t explain whenever she tries to picture it.

“hey,” you say suddenly, pulling her out of her spiral. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” she says quickly, her voice too bright. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“you’re fidgeting,” you point out, reaching to still her hand.

the touch is light, casual even. something you’ve done a hundred times before. but it feels different now, with pictures of your lips on hers flashing through her mind. lucy knows it’s not your fault. it’s hers. it’s always hers.

“i’m fine,” she insists, pulling her hand away and crossing her arms. “just…tired, i suppose,”

you don’t look convinced, but you let it go, lying back down and turning your attention to the book. lucy stays sitting up, her eyes on you instead of the page.

she shifts awkwardly, trying not to fidget again. you've started having that effect on her, and it's driving her crazy.

“you know,” you say suddenly as if you'd been reading her mind. “people in the vault are always talking about how it's normal to…y'know, experiment?”

lucy's head jerks toward you so quickly it's a miracle she doesn't pull a muscle.

“experiment?”

“yeah," you hum. “like...with other people…everyone says it's no big deal. ‘limited options,' and all that!”

she swallows hard, her palms suddenly clammy again. “uh...sure,” she says, trying to sound disinterested. “i mean, that's just how it is, right? have to keep the gene pool going or whatever,”

now it’s your turn to snort. “i'm not talking about marriage and babies, lucy. i mean..." you trail off. “practice.”

“practice?” she echoes, her voice an octave too high, the words catching in her throat.

“for when we do get married someday,” you clarify, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. there's a pause before you quickly add: “not to each other, obviously,”

lucy feels like her brain is short-circuiting all over again. you can't just say things like that and expect her to function like a normal person. “right….gee, of course not to each other!” she parrots.

you sit up fully now, visibly excited. “but think about it! vault life does mean limited options, right? most people are already making out with their cousins to 'prepare for marriage!” you pull a face, the very idea making you wrinkle your nose in distaste.. “at least this way, we're...helping each other out. as friends!” “as friends,” lucy repeats, as if saying it out loud will make it true. “you…you’re serious?” her voice wavers, and it’s humiliating. god, why couldn’t she just sound normal?

“why not?” you shrug. “it's not like it has to mean anything!”

she wants to tell you it already does. that it's meant something to her for as long as she can remember. that it could never not, when it’s with you.

but instead, she stammers, “i- i don't think-“

“oh, come on!” you tease, your grin widening. “what? are you scared?”

that does it. lucy always had a stubborn streak, and you’ve learned exactly how to poke it.

“i'm not scared,” she insists, sitting up straighter.

“then prove it!”

lucy freezes. the air between you charged with something she doesn’t quite know how to name. every ounce of logic in her brain is screaming bad idea, but it’s drowned out by the overwhelming desire to close the space between you. just this once. ust for the sake of practice.

“this is...for practice,” she says finally, the words shaky, as if she’s reminding herself more than you.

“exactly.” your voice is soft now, steady. reassuring.

she hesitates for a heartbeat longer, her eyes searching yours for any sign that this is some cruel joke, a trap, a mistake. but all she sees is you: familiar and warm and impossibly close. before she can talk herself out of it, lucy leans in.

the kiss is tentative at first, her lips brushing yours with a softness that surprises even her. it’s careful, until you don’t pull away. when you lean into her instead, it deepens. the warmth of your mouth sends a jolt through her entire body, a shiver that starts at the base of her spine and works its way up.

her hands hover uncertainly in the air before finding your shoulders and holding on for dear life. lucy senses you smiling against her lips, and feeling the curve of your mouth against her own sends her poor heart stumbling in her chest. stumbling, then falling. falling deeper than it ever has before.

your lips taste like the chapstick she applied on them earlier, reasoning that they’d been looking a little too dry when -in reality- all she wanted was an excuse to get to see you from up close.

now, that same gloss smears against lucy’s own, leaving the faint taste of cherry in her mouth. she wants to taste of cherry everywhere, overcome with an unexplainable urge to drown in the flavor altogether: a sweet trail drawn slowly along the zipper of her vault jumpsuit. perhaps even lower, after, so that when you’ll come back up to lucy’s mouth, you’ll taste of her instead of cherries and she’ll get a taste of that, too.

when you are the one to pull back first, heat rushes to her cheeks. you're both breathing a little harder, the space between you buzzing with something electric.

“well,” you begin, your tongue darting out to wet those lips. lucy finds herself watching, mesmerized. “that wasn't so bad, was it?”

her heart is pounding so loudly she's sure you can hear it from where you’re sitting. “uh...no. not bad!”

you grin, leaning back on your hands like nothing monumental just happened.

“we're definitely ready for marriage now,” you conclude, teasing.

later that night, after she’s made sure that the doors to her room are locked, lucy slumps down into the comfort of her bed.

her pillow is still crumpled where you sat earlier.

when lucy presses it between her legs, her face in the bedsheets to stifle her sighs, she smells cherries.

the door to lucy’s quarters hisses shut behind you.

lucy stumbles backward, her lips already pressed to yours, her hands fumbling against the curve of your waist to steady herself. the room feels smaller than usual, the bed barely a few feet away.

“just…practice…” she murmurs between kisses, her voice breathless and a little shaky.

“exactly,” you whisper back, your lips brushing hers again before moving to her jaw.

lucy hums in agreement, though the way her hands tighten on your waist as your lips find her neck suggests she’s not really thinking about marriage prep, potential husbands, or the repopulation anymore.

after that first kiss, something shifted between you. something neither of you could explain but could not resist either. what once was supposed to be casual, a vault-sanctioned form of bonding, a way to keep things ‘normal’ in an environment that was anything but had turned into something way more the moment your lips touched hers that night in her quarters. ‘normal’ went out the window then.

it’s become a familiar pattern over the last few weeks: a fleeting glance across the cafeteria, a brush of hands in the halls, a whispered promise to meet later when no one’s around.

not that you ever talked about it. with all the rules in vault 33, the unspoken one between you both was the most important of all: keep it light, keep it safe. you never pushed further than kisses, never ventured beyond the safety of your blue and yellow vault suits. anything else would be too much, too real.

still, it didn’t matter how many rules you set for yourselves; staying away wasn’t an option. not anymore.

lucy’s back hits the edge of the bed, and she lets out a quiet laugh, her cheeks flushed. “we’re getting really good at this,” she teases.

you grin, leaning down to press another kiss to her lips. “we’re dedicated to the craft,”

her laugh softens into a sigh as you pull back slightly and she can’t chase your mouth with hers, your foreheads touching.

“this isn’t weird, right?” she asks suddenly, her voice quieter now.

you tilt your head, brushing your nose against hers and drawing another chuckle from her. “weird?”

“yeah.” lucy swallows. “i mean, we’re best friends. and we’re…”

“practicing,” you finish for her.

“right,” she nods quickly. “practicing!”

you don’t say what you’re both thinking: that this doesn’t feel like what it was supposed to be. that it never did, to begin with.

instead, you kiss her again, slow and deliberate, letting the moment stretch. lucy’s hands finally settle on your waist, pulling you closer as her nerves melt away.

all these weeks of making out under the disguise of practicing for a hypothetical marriage neither of you had ever shown any interest in had been good already. great, even. better than anything else you’ve ever known. which truthfully isn’t that much, but it still counts for something that you’re more than willing for lucy to be your first.

the only inconvenience to your little escapades would come later, after sneaking out of her room: the shameful feeling of your arousal, a stubborn reminder that you could not truly be casual about any of this.

still, leaving lucy’s quarters with your wetness pooling between your legs uncomfortably would always be worth having the little of her that you'd been granted.

perhaps one day, it would actually feel like enough. until then, you'll continue with the familiar pattern you've both fallen into. you'll let her touch you through the way too restrictive fabric and say a little prayer that, one of these days, she will go straight for the zipper instead.

[hanibalistic]

THE SOUND MONSTER | STRAY KIDS.

genre | magic au, found family au, platonic relationship, friendship, (side) romance, action

synopsis | on your way to kill a curse for a million dollars, your client suddenly showed up with answers you've been searching for for years and without the million dollars. 

word count | 9.4k+

warning | blood, violence, mentions of death / killing / trauma, reader wears a skirt (character accommodation)

note | i got bored of this during the last part. but i haven't successfully finished a magic au in a while. reader's power was given to the reader from topc.

If you had one million dollars each time you were asked to kill a homeostatic curse within a specific area in a forest that covered most of the city limit, you would have one million and fifty thousand dollars.

The first client who contracted you to kill a curse in this area paid you only fifty thousand dollars. Your current, suspiciously generous client offered you one million.

This should be the area. You thought as you scanned your surroundings through squinted eyes, then back to your phone, where a screenshot of a location was shown. 

The picture was taken from a fan website, one of the first things you stumbled upon during your research into the Warp Curse. 

Since there has never been a sighting of what artifact the curse resided in, all you've got to begin looking for were a bunch of historical texts and posts written by curse fanatics loitering in online forums. 

So far, you knew two things about the Warp Curse: (a) it has been taking random hikers that step foot inside the forest, and (b) it was speculated, using the locations of all its kidnappings, that its artifact should be somewhere near the forest's edge.

Closing your phone and dropping it in your pocket, you scoffed in frustration. The picture was taken straight from the album provided by the internet's map, and most of the photos uploaded there were captured by the satellite. There was no way to compare and contrast the picture to what you could see in front of your eyes. Everywhere were greens and trees, short trails, and grass beds. 

Much like your last mission in the forest, you needed to take a wild guess and hope you get lucky with your search. At least you knew you had to keep to the edge this time. 

You roamed with your head in the clouds. There wasn't anything else to do besides daydreaming or thinking with a purpose. Whichever one came to you easier at the moment—the latter, obviously. You've got a lot to think about. 

First, it will be easier and faster if the Warp Curse decides to suck you underground and bring you directly to itself. 

The curse's power spanned across the forest from what you learned, most of them being speculations, but you were willing to take what was presented. It was no wonder so many hikers went missing on a leisurely day. The curse has an impressive reach. It would pull you underground and warp you to where its artifact is located, and then it would kill you for energy.

Second, what would you do with a million dollars? 

Abandoning hunting may be the first step since you were only doing this job to get by. The grand sum of money wasn't all that great when you were constantly blowing through it for medical expenses. Your ruination curse heals at the pace of a snail strolling through a park, not considering your livelihood relied on having a functional body. Functional arms and legs, at least. 

If the family curse wasn't so greedy about hosting your body alone, you would have tried to sign a contract with a curse that has a faster healing process. 

You could use the money to find the remainder of your family. Specifically, the person who abandoned you near a police station when you were three years old. 

These three years of searching for clues have been less hectic than you desired, reflecting your lack of progress in finding a blood relative. Things might pick up the pace if you were close to your goal. 

But, all the ruination curse was willing to tell you was that it was a family curse. All the police could provide you were three things: you were found at a park near the station, most of your family went missing years ago, and your uncle was sent to a mental institution by reason of insanity after killing most of your family members on Christmas night.

You would love to visit somewhere fun too, like an amusement park or aquarium. Traveling the world sounded like a chore, so you might put that off for another year or two once you got the payment. 

You could go to college or try your hand at paying your way into a prestigious university. However, pursuing an education wasn’t appealing when you’ve got a million dollars to rationally spend. It wasn’t appealing now when you have empty pockets. 

You should prioritize buying a house,  but that was unlikely to happen with today's market. An apartment was good enough. The thought of having a roof over your head instead of hopping through motels was desirable. 

The more you mapped out what to do with one million dollars, the giddier you became. If your client turned out to be a fraud, thus tearing your FastPass to an imaginary happy life, you might kill them along with the Warp Curse. 

The trees bustled around you as the wind suddenly picked up. Winter was steadily approaching, albeit much slower than the previous years. Feeling a short breeze or two, out in the forest nonetheless, was common. But your instincts—your monster-hunting psychic eye—spiked a joint of weariness in you. 

Your body tensed at the sound of the rustling leaves, fingers hardening, and toes curling into the bottom of your old and dusty shoes. As you carefully scanned your surroundings, you could not figure out the source of the rustling noise. It didn’t come from the leaves above you.

“Well, what have we here?” 

A voice! But was it a person or a curse? 

You whipped around to face where it came from, your feet cautiously taking two steps backward. The messy heaps of branches, all growing from the lower side of multiple trees planted in close quarters of each other, shifted. The leaves that adorned the wood swung like an elegant fan before they revealed the voice's owner. 

A man, wearing a coat unsuitable for the current weather and wearing black gloves, showing no skin besides what was above his collarbones, stepped out of the branches after his black derby cane stomped on the ground as an official entrance.

You tilted your head with squinted eyes. Someone’s missing a top hat, but that wasn’t the issue. You should be the only person in the forest.

After multiple cases of the not-so-mysterious killing, law enforcement sealed off all forest entrances and forbade civilians from visiting. You had to sneak past the security guards (which was easy) and the cameras (which was also easy, but researching their blindspots was time-consuming) to get inside. 

“Okay, here we go.” The man swung his cane off to the side in a pit of defeat after seeing the disdainful look on your face. To him, it couldn’t have been the cause of stranger danger. It must have been something about his attire today, which was just his daily attire.

“Is there something on my face? Or is it my height? Is it because I’m short? You think I can’t pull off an overcoat because I’m too short?”

When he saw your eyes travel down to his knees and back up to his face, he realized he read you wrong. His panicky questions about his appearance were what made you focus on them. It was not the first time he'd made this mistake, but he thought he kept repeating it to fulfill his inner comedian.

You furrowed your brows and sneered at him because you thought him embarrassing for being so anxious on your first encounter. You weren’t judging his attire or his height, at least not maliciously and not based on any fashionable knowledge. Who asks four questions in a row only a second into meeting a stranger? 

“Actually, don’t answer those questions. I fear you will hurt my feelings.” He waved a hand with a bashful smile that surprisingly still fit a man his age.

Looking down at his feet as if taking a short moment to make himself a mockery, he returned his eyes to you. He toned down his bright disposition when he saw that you remained cautious of him. “My apologies. This is all spiraling out of control. I need to stop improvising so much and stick to the plan I was given–“

His sentence was abruptly cut short by a claw or a hook. The event happened so suddenly that your reflexes didn’t register it fast enough to tell you to close your eyes when fresh blood splattered onto your face. 

Your lashes caught the droplets instead of your widened eyes, and as you could not avert your gaze from the man, you finally saw that it was a giant hook. A big upside-down fish hook. It pierced through the man’s head, the pointed end going through the top of his head and out the bottom of his chin as if making him the bait for a fishing activity.

Blood dried along the black, gooey surface of the hook. You've seen that texture before multiple times to be the skin of a typical monster. The Warp Curse likely manifested this monster to protect its homeostatic body. 

The knowledge didn't ease your mind at all. While you have seen many monsters, you've never seen a dead person, let alone watch one get killed. It was an aftermath of you choosing to work independently. 

Rigidly, you turned your head over to look at the killer. 

With a hook of that size, it was no surprise that the monster was almost as tall as the trees in the forest. It looked like multiple rotten tree branches haphazardly stuck together into a worm-like body. Its head, protruding like stacked tree branches, shifted like fat pounds of flesh, with sharp teeth sticking out at random spots. Its hands and horns were curled into a hook-like structure.

You suspected it could shift its mass at will, though, as you would have caught sight of it the second you snuck inside the forest if it was always this huge.

That didn’t matter. It could be in the shape of a kitchen knife, a clothing hanger, or a fly swatter. If it could kill you, you have to either leave the premises or end it before it could get you. Your hand reached for the handle of your sword, strapped to the belt around your skirt, which you wore so your legs had ample space to explode when needed.

At the same time, or at a pace much quicker than yours, the monster raised its other hook high and brought it down the direction of your head.

A cane stuck out at the speed of light. It went through the hoop of the claw and trapped it in the air, only a few inches away from your tiny head. It took you a few seconds to snap away from nearly being stabbed. When you finally recognized the familiar cane, your eyes gradually pulled into a confused frown. 

Only one person here owned one: the stranger you just met. You looked toward him, and a bold gasp left your lips when you saw him already looking back at you, one arm stretched out with his cane to block the attack for you. 

“Hey,” he greeted, blood still squirting from his injuries. “I’m surprised you still flinch at these things!”

You looked visibly appalled, which he understood. He definitely wouldn’t say he cared much the first time he saw a mutilated body. But, if there was anything he learned growing up, it was that some people were simply more mentally endurable than others! 

Besides that, he knew you must be confused, which he also understood. He definitely wouldn’t say he’d still question the impact of biology in this day and age when curses make binding contracts with humans like gamblers at a casino.

But, if there was anything he learned growing up, it was that some people were simply smarter than others! 

“Oh, where are my manners? Let me introduce myself,” he said over the monster’s growls. 

Turning his cane sideways so the handle laid horizontally, he pushed his arm down to tip the cane upward, knocking the hook away from your head. Throwing his cane into the air for a quick moment and catching the middle of the shaft, the man closed one eye to aim for the body of the claw before throwing his cane straight at it. The pierce of the cane flew at a velocity strong enough to knock the claw back into a nearby tree, and it was strong enough to keep it nailed to a spot. 

“I’m Chan, host of the Immortal Curse,” he introduced before his eyes rolled up. “I’m gonna need help pulling my head out of this claw. Do you mind?”

Snapping your neck to access your surroundings, you immediately unsheathed your sword again. You jumped to catch the end of its swinging hook, letting it take you into the air.

A grimace surfaced at the gooey skin and how you could feel your hand submerge in its wetness. Despite its disgusting texture, you crawled with the help of its sticky skin before hoisting yourself on top of its claw. 

Your legs curled around the curve to keep from falling, and you wasted no time raising your sword and stabbing it through. Once you deemed it deep enough, a clanking noise sounded from your sword while something in your backpack exploded. The claw you sat on followed after, bursting open and leaving you in the air with no support.

With one of the monster's arms stuck to a tree and another gone, Seungmin took the chance to power up his makeshift gun. He waited for you to drop to the ground; he would catch you, but there were bigger things to worry about than you fracturing an ankle from the fall. 

Once you landed, with a loud thud, he pointed his index finger at the eyes of the monster and made another shot. You took cover by curling into a ball as the shot blazed past you. Once the shot entered the creature’s mouth, Seungmin waved his hand to create an explosion from within, leaving nothing to remain but a downpour of its fluids.

Everything remained still for a little while. That went by quicker than usual. Typically, as you often try not to resort to using your curse unless necessary, killing a monster would take much longer than one second of a shoot. No complaints about the process being quick, though. At least you didn't have to do all the work. 

Considering the size of the monster, if Seungmin wasn't here, you'd have to break a leg or two. 

You pushed yourself off the floor by using your sword as an anchor, then sheathed it slowly so you could spend your attention on finding Chan's body. You saw Seungmin standing over it with a cane, and you approached him. 

Noticing your presence, he barely turned his head to glance at you, then back at Chan on the floor. He used all the karma he took from you to kill the monster. His sleeves were rolled down to his wrist, and his arm no longer felt heavy. 

Much as he expected, the amount and intensity of the sins your curse brewed were more than enough to end the monster with a straightforward attack. The Ruination Curse and its atrocities—he's heard all about it from Chan in the short pursuit of your attention. Finally, seeing you in person, you were underwhelming. 

“Welcome back,” he greeted when Chan began to stir. 

The previous numbness remained vivid, but so far, it had gone away from the side of his face torn open when the claw was forced out the side of his head. It has got to be one of the more painful events he’s experienced these years, but he did die the moment it happened, so, to be fair, he barely went through any pain. 

Touching his jaw, Chan casually cracked his neck as he stood up, and then he was beaming for the return of his durable cane.

“I’m certain there were other ways to get me out of the hook, but you chose the most painful one,” Chan said. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a handkerchief. 

“I could have kept you there and let your flesh heal into the claw,” Seungmin retorted as he shoved his hands back in his pockets. 

“Never a peaceful moment with you,” Chan mused, dusting his coat before haphazardly shoving the handkerchief back where it came from. He turned to you and sighed in mock annoyance. “He’s always like this.”

You eyed Seungmin once before you shrugged. If you have to choose, you will pick Seungmin's aloof temperament over Chan's overwhelmingly sunny disposition bordered as suspicious. Besides, how a stranger treats you was never within your realms of worry. You would never see them again, and you almost always have bigger things to deal with, such as the Warp Curse.

Considering the monster attacked you here, it should mean the cursed artifact was near. You’ve wasted enough time chatting; you should get going before the night arrives.  

Giving the two a nod, you brought your hand into a faint wave before turning around, prepared to continue your expedition. Seeing your ready departure, Chan raised his brows in dramatic panic.

He threw his cane up to catch it by the end and shot the handle out toward you. It hooked onto the back of your shirt, but you didn't notice it until you were abruptly stopped by the restriction it placed upon you. 

You jerked around with an irritated glare, your eyes hardened with a furrow so intense you almost created yourself an extra eyelid. Chan rested the tip of his cane back on the floor. He didn't seem to believe he'd done anything unusual, which wasn't surprising. 

You opened your mouth only to suck in a huge breath, all the words you wanted to say swallowed by your inability to voice them. Coming to terms with that, you squeezed your eyes shut and turned away, honing into the silence of your mind. 

A pointed smirk was evident on Chan’s face. “Yeah. The Sound Monster is a bitch, isn’t it?”

You opened your eyes slowly into a squint. Chan was correct. Your voice was taken by the Sound Monster when you were very young. It was abrupt. You were praying to God to be reunited with your family, a mother and an uncle you could barely remember, and others you've never met. 

Then, suddenly, your voice vanished. Your foster parents dug around to find a reason behind the disappearance, but you were medically cleared. They eventually concluded that the Sound Monster had taken it. You haven't been able to speak since. 

Back then, you didn't understand why you were chosen to be stolen from. Now that you've grown up, the criteria weren't any less confusing despite you scouring the internet for information and stories. 

It seemed the Sound Monster picked randomly, and you were just unlucky. But that shouldn't be something Chan knew. It wasn't uncommon for someone without a voice to be a victim of the Sound Monster, but it also wasn't common for one to be. 

The ratio between being born mute, becoming mute from an accident, and having your voice taken by a monster was balanced. Chan was weird for assuming the latter unless he already knew who you were. 

Seungmin rubbed the bridge of his nose when he saw the pointed look you gave Chan. This wasn’t exactly the plan. Sure, they were supposed to find you and introduce themselves. Surprisingly, none of them factored in how monsters lurked around a forbidden forest and would increase tension. 

Alas, there was a monster, and on top of that, Chan was the least subtle man on Earth. One thing on top of another, it wasn’t the best idea to spring onto you the fact that they’ve been stalking you for a while. 

“Maybe I should do the talking,” Seungmin suggested after he leaned toward Chan.

“But you’re terrible at talking,” Chan responded at the same volume of a whisper.

“You’re bad at making people want to listen to you.”

“That insult doesn’t hold the value you think it does,” Chan mused with a dismissive wave too close to Seungmin’s face. He returned to you, his smile more polite than friendly, but there was an element of natural mockery he may not be giving off on purpose. “Let’s chat.” 

You faintly shook your head, a movement to accompany your features morphing into the manifestation of incredulousness. The smile on Chan’s face deterred for a thoughtful second before he closed his eyes in realization. 

One finger pointed skyward, he sent you a dramatic nod—one single nod—and began reaching into his coat pocket to fumble out a notebook and pen. He limped toward you unnecessarily; you knew he could walk fine.

“My apologies, once again. How callous of me! You don’t have a voice.” He grabbed your hands and forcefully placed the notebook and pen in them. “Thankfully, I’m prepared. You can write with these.”

You held onto the items with one hand, clearly uninterested in using them. While unfazed by the proven assumption that these two strangers knew who you were, you had no intention of chatting with them. 

They could be rival hunters looking to kill the same curse. In that case, you’d want nothing to do with them. They could be random stalkers, to which you would respond with neither fear nor intrigue. All you wanted was to complete the mission, receive your end of the contract, and go home.

“I’d much rather be left alone,” you signed.

“Oh, we don’t do that. We don’t understand sign language because, obviously, we can talk,” Chan immediately responded. He pointed at the pen and paper in your hand. “This is accommodation. Please utilize the resources at your disposal.” 

Seungmin pursed his lips to prevent a defeated smile. That felt moderately problematic, but Chan’s confidence and nonchalance in executing rudeness made it less targeted. He wasn’t sure if he should make a point for Chan to stop acting like this, not that verbally accosting him had ever changed his ways. 

When you two accidentally shared a glance, Seungmin grimaced, but he wasn’t apologetic. 

“Leave me alone,” you wrote hastily instead. 

“Well! If only we all got what we wanted! I wouldn’t be holding this cane if that’s the case!” Chan laughed, but his eyes shifted to an unexplained glare as if you’d taken something from him. People like him always thought the world owed them something. It wasn’t uncommon. “How about I offer a proposal instead of accepting your request?”

You rolled your tongue toward your inner cheek. You would always take advantage of an opportunity to earn more money. “I’m in the middle of a job.”

“For the Warp Curse, I know,” Chan said. “I am your client.”

“Great. So you’re a stalker. Through and through.” You shoved the notebook to his face, to which he backed off to avoid it. A thought flashed through your head, and you quickly flipped a page to write at an intensity so strong you could scratch a hole through the paper. “Do you even have a million dollars?”

You could see it. You could see your daydream vanishing before your eyes. 

The apartment you’d own, a regular college life, finally reuniting with some of your family—your promised million dollars was the center of a fraudulent contract. It was all too hasty. You should have checked before signing onto something that is too good to be true. 

Glaring up at Chan, you wondered if you wanted to kill him until you realized he had the Immortal Curse, and you weren’t breaking an arm just to watch him get back up again. 

“Stalker is a bad word for a description of me, but I don’t mind being praised once in a while,” Chan responded, then cleared his throat. “And no, I don’t have a million dollars. But hold on, little sphinx–“ he reached out to pull you back from taking a prompted leave again–“I’ve got something better than a million dollars that I reckon you’d be interested in.” 

You swatted his hand away and fixed your shirt, soothing it down at the bottom and dusting off the fabric on your chest. You scoffed by blowing air out of your mouth, which made it similar to huffing, but those with the proper context would know what you were trying to do. Not sure if they would take into consideration your annoyance, though. 

Scribbling on the notebook again, you turned it around and raised a brow at Chan.

“WHAT?”

“I love the full capitalization. It’s like you’re shouting at me,” he joked as he stomped the cane on the ground for attention already on him. He sucked in a breath, preparing for the grand reveal, then asked, “How much would you like to help us kill the Sound Monster?”

“You can’t kill the Sound Monster.” 

It was the first response you gave them. You wrote it down without hesitation.

The Sound Monster wasn’t ordinary. Unlike the creature you just faced, it wasn't bred by a homeostatic curse. It wasn’t a product of species reproduction, which monsters have learned to do over the centuries as their sign of evolution. It wasn’t—technically—man-made. A person with a specific curse did not mold the Sound Monster into existence, and the ministry ruled out the creation of monsters through curses a long time ago for obvious reasons.

It was created by people, but it was done unintentionally.

Besides its uniqueness, the Sound Monster has a lasting impact on its victims and those adjacent to them. 

Taking one person's voice inconveniences the individual, and those around them, and the Sound Monster has taken a lot of voices. Hence its disreputable size and dreadful appearance. Only a handful of people have seen it up close. After realizing the amount of people out for its life, it closed itself off to a remote area. 

But, those who have seen the Sound Monster described it as a fleshy pulp. Its body was twisted together through thousands of esophagi, making throaty noises as it stomped, and it spoke with all the voices it stole: there shall be no hope, there shall be no prayers.

“It will be like killing a God.” 

Seungmin raised a brow at your statement. He didn’t necessarily disagree. The Sound Monster was speculated to be the aftermath of the Miracle Goddess descending into madness after receiving too much hatred from unanswered prayers, hence its mantra about hopes and prayers. He thought that speculation best suited the Sound Monster’s existence. 

However, ultimately, there was no guarantee. It may be a regular monster with immeasurable power because taking voices was the easiest thing to do. 

Besides, a monster would never be anything other than its name, regardless of where it came from. Seeing it as the Miracle Goddess, not the Sound Monster, was your mistake. 

“It won’t be like killing a God,” Seungmin disagreed nonchalantly. “In fact, it’ll just be like killing a monster.”

"However, even if it meant killing a God–" Chan chimed in enthusiastically. He was now relying more on his leg to walk. He saw that you noticed, but to avoid the current, far more prioritized topic, he didn't mention anything about it. "That is where you come in, dungeon crawler!"

"You and your whatever–ruins curse, rumination curse, ruffian curse–" he blew a messy raspberry–"your ability is going to be vital to our operation to kill–"

“Ruination.” You shoved the notebook at Chan’s face in emphasis. 

You underlined it three times, which he thought was unnecessary. 

It was the only word on the page, so there was no way he wouldn't see it. You detestably interrupted him with your lack of attention and lousy scribbling to correct an insignificant mistake. Although, to him, all errors made by his hands shall be minor. 

Alas, a man with a mission would be humble to those he required. He moved his head out of the square frame to deadpan at you before he sucked in a deep breath, brows raised with a calming mind. 

“My apologies–your Ruination Curse,” he corrected before waving a hand at your notebook and pen. “I advise you to stop interrupting me. I talk much faster than you can write, and by the time you finish correcting me, I’ve moved on. Then you’d look terrible having to make me backtrack. Seriously. It’s more embarrassing for you than it is for me.”

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing.” Seungmin shrugged from the side.

"Your curse has you getting on people's nerves for a living," Chan sneered. "If I had skin as thick as yours, I'd find nothing embarrassing, too!"

You rolled your eyes. The irony was hot on the tongue.

“Never the matter, my point is–“ Chan raised his cane to point at your heart–“your curse’s ability to cause the destruction of anything if its host so desires is the key to killing the Sound Monster.”

“That’s refutable.” 

“It’s not,” Seungmin disagreed with a shake of his head. 

You narrowed your brows, your eyes gleaming with a dissatisfied sneer he couldn’t care less about. Looking down at the notebook, you quickly jotted something down and held it up. “What do you know about my curse?”

"Enough. Once we established we needed your help to defeat the Sound Monster, we researched you. Hence, we were able to track you down and offer you a curse-killing job," he replied. 

Chan leaned his torso forward not a beat later, popping from behind Seungmin’s shoulder with a grin. “We also know what happened to your family, by the way.” 

Your hands dropped to your side, but your fingers itched to move the pen. 

You already knew you were well-known among the hunting field because of your curse, but you’ve never personally met any of your clients and you’ve always used a fake identity for communication. No one ever knew they were talking to the person with the Ruination curse.

The fact that these two found you meant they weren't lying about looking into you. It was uncomfortable, but disregarding the confessed stalker behavior, your desire to know more about what happened to your family besides everyone's sudden disappearance was overwhelming. What could they possibly know that law enforcement couldn't find out? 

“I was holding off on that,” Seungmin pointed out with a sigh. Considering the severity of your history and the current location, he thought it best not to mention something that would require a lot of time to explain and muster a lot of unnecessary emotions. 

“Why? They should know what happened.” Chan shrugged. 

“Are you sure it’s transparency you care about?” Seungmin turned to Chan. “Or do you want them to accept your favor in exchange for something they should already know anyway?”

"No one is entitled to information. If you want to know something so bad, you should have looked harder for it. Alas, I have something they want to know, so they'll have to work for that. No answers for free," Chan replied with a gentleman bow done out of, as usual, mockery. 

He straightened himself and exclaimed, "But of course, I care about getting what I want! If I can help them along the way, that'd be fantastic! Besides, information on your family is not my only leverage." 

You saw him wait for you to respond, silently gathering details of your subtle reactions to see if you cared enough about your family to not need him to enact his backup plans to rope you into this operation. He didn’t need to. You were already leaning toward joining it. 

Besides your family's history, having your voice back would be convenient. You just wanted to hear what he had to say. As obnoxious as he was, Chan has an outrageous amount of valuable intel for you that you failed to seek. 

“Which is?” 

“You can have your voice back.”

“Okay.” You wrote something more. “And?”

Chan smiled at your notebook. 

“Killing the Sound Monster means you can also kill the Ruination Curse.”

“I have to say I’m not a big fan of the cave,” Chan complained, for however many times now. “Actually, I’m not a big fan of any cave.”

Seungmin’s steps faltered. His shoulders slumped as he huffed, and his eyes rolled to the side to barely spare the whiny man a glance. “Yeah, you’ve made that clear.”

“You whine about everything,” Chan said. “Sooner or later, you’ll find out you are just like me.” 

The corner of your lips stretched downward as you watched Seungmin’s eyes roll to the beat of his exhausted sigh. You haven’t known him for long, but being stranded together with someone as insufferable as Chan developed a bubble of solidarity between you both. 

He might have felt the connection, too, as he immediately searched for your eyes to share another silent glance with you, a knowing smirk on his lips. Pausing your feet, you waited for him to catch up with your pace before walking. 

“He must have a lot of karma in him?” You showed Seungmin what you wrote, a finger jabbing at Chan, who walked ahead of you. 

He held back a brief chuckle. It wasn’t a flawed assumption, and it wasn’t wrong either. He just found it funny you thought that, and you were right. Chan has more karma stored in him than anyone on the team. 

Since karma was considered any evil deeds done by a person without counting the reaction of said deeds, it was easy for anyone to accumulate a level of karma in them, even if the act could garner only a small amount. Everyone litters or says the wrong thing once in a while. It was unavoidable. 

Nonetheless, Seungmin was always digging deeper into understanding his curse’s criteria because the fact that Chan has enough to act as a karma reservoir could either mean Seungmin’s curse worked in ways beyond his knowledge or that Chan has more secrets than he let on. 

Chan says and does many uncomfortable things, but verbal jabs and a whack of his cane don’t count for great karma. Seungmin didn’t think Chan had done nearly enough per day to garner so much karmic power, either. Something happened in his past that made him this way, just like your Ruination Curse made you. 

“He does, but not as much as your curse,” Seungmin whispered.

Your hand dropped slowly to your side when you realized you understood the pattern of his moving hands. Surprised eyes shaking between his fingers and finally up at his face, the excitement blossomed across your lips into a grin. 

You’ve had to accommodate others for so long, which hasn’t been a great hassle or anything. Still, encountering someone who didn’t have to wait more than five seconds for you to properly jot down a reply was pleasant. Clutching the notebook with only two fingers to spare the others, you fumbled about where to put the pencil, gave up, clapped once, and signed back to him. 

“You know sign language?” 

“I’m still learning,” he said. “When we decided to recruit you, my best friend thought it was only fair that he learned how to communicate with you. He dragged me to take lessons with him.”

You pursed your lips. “You didn’t think to do it yourself?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t interested in learning something new. But this has been relatively easy to pick up. I made more progress than him.” 

“I can understand you fine, that’s for sure.” You huffed just as your lips stretched into a smile, giving an illusion of a laugh. After a short moment, you continued, “What’s your reason to kill the Sound Monster?”

“Do I need one?” he signed, then, with a frown, he spoke, “Monsters are monsters. It’s always beneficial to purge them.”

Chalking it to a deed for the greater good was always the easiest answer. It was understandable and clear. No sob story, no personal grievances, just out of sheer goodwill. People with those answers were often lying—you’ve never known anyone who does things out of mere goodness of the heart.

But Seungmin didn’t seem deceitful. He wasn’t set on the betterment of the world, that’s for sure, but he thought eliminating the Sound Monster could make the world more convenient, so there wasn’t a reason not to kill it. 

You nodded. Whatever his reason was, it wouldn’t bother you so long as it didn’t negatively impact you. 

The cave began to dim as you three moved away from the entrance. You realized you haven’t been paying attention to your surroundings, but didn't think you’ve missed the Warp Curse yet. 

There were no special skills or a keen eye when looking for a homeostatic curse; it could be the resident of anything, from rocks to trees, paintings to instruments. Sometimes even a dead body, but you’ve only heard of those instances and never seen them. 

The key element was that they had to be inanimate. Anyone bound to a curse would have an easier time figuring out where a homeostatic curse was simply because curses could recognize each other. It usually manifested in the forms of anxiety symptoms, an unnatural unease, and bodily reactions that went against logic, such as sweating in a cool area.

In the same breath, detecting and destroying a curse with multiple hosts is more challenging.

Chan poked a piece of debris on the floor, not quite examining it because he didn’t think looking for the Warp Curse was his job. Then he stood up from the crouching position and swung his cane backward to swiftly turn to face you and Seungmin, who were both lagging behind, engrossed in a chatter.

He sighed—this was dragging out longer than he wanted. He should have suggested canceling the commission. 

“How long is this going to take?” Chan asked once you both were within earshot.

“Somebody is bored,” Seungmin mused with a roll of his eye.

You took out the notebook and pen and jotted two things down: you could sense the curse nearby and that he should occupy his time explaining why killing the Ruination Curse would benefit you. 

You tapped his shoulder and shoved the notebook to his face. Chan snatched it away to read your handwriting better before returning it, a frown hanging on his lips. He handed the notebook back to you and clicked his tongue in preparation. 

“Considering your family’s history with the curse, I’m not sure you want to keep it alive in your body,” Chan said. “I am coming at this from an emotional standpoint.”

The Ruination Curse was a family curse, which you already knew. It worked because every generation would pick an offspring as its new host. It wasn’t noted why the curse wanted to reside in younger bodies, but the assumption that it desired them was eliminated when the members of your family started having children, which forced the curse to reside in adults well into their forties. 

But, in every generation, there was only one member of the family that could utilize the Ruination Curse. The previous host of the curse, just before you, was your uncle. 

“Does he have a name?” you signed to Seungmin.

He shrugged. “I’m sure he has a name, but it’s scratched off every record for some reason. Not even the mental institution he was sent to figured out why his name was crossed off all the records a day after he escaped.”

“He escaped?” you signed frantically. “Why was he sent to a mental institution?” 

“He–“ Seungmin licked his lower lip and looked at Chan. “He escaped, or maybe he vanished into thin air. Nobody knows where he is. We didn’t find him either."

“Leaving the big news to me,” Chan mused with a smirk. He paused from walking and twirled his cane on the spot. “You are the last member of your immediate family, [Name]–“ he corrected himself–“you and your murderous uncle, actually.”

Your uncle had no intention of letting go of the Ruination Curse, but since he knew its parting wasn’t a choice he could make, he contrived a scenario where the curse would have no other host to jump to except him. 

On one Christmas gathering, back when your mother's pregnancy wasn't visible, and she had set to announce the good news at the party, your uncle used the Ruination Curse to cause a mass miscarriage. All the pregnant wives, which weren't many, within your family lost their baby, except for your mother. He didn't know of your existence yet. 

Only killing those unborn was a form of mercy. When he was challenged for his action, he took it as an attack on his morals and agency and decided to end the lives of those who stood up to him the same night. 

Your biological father was one of those people, and your mother—a smart woman stunned into faux calmness, sought empathy from her brother, which she obtained. After that night, those who were alive went their separate ways, and nobody spoke of the tragedy until your birth. 

"It came to me." You signed, slowing down and looking to Seungmin for confirmation. "The curse came to me automatically after I was born, and my mother…"

"She had cut contact with your uncle and fled to live somewhere far away. She left you with an old friend from college when she realized you inherited the curse. She might have wanted to pretend she wasn't the one who had a child, and maybe she was convincing, but he killed her anyway," Seungmin said. "Some of what I said are speculations, but mostly it's true." 

You looked at the floor. That was all you needed to know, and it took that much for you to realize you never had any reason to look for the truth. It didn’t answer any questions because you had no questions, and neither did it give you feelings of closure. You just felt lost and wasted, like your journey has come to a unfulfilling end. 

“Your mother’s old friend, the man she left you with. His name is Seo Changbin.” Chan twirled his cane and hummed. “He was the one who abandoned you at the police station.”

“Abandon–“

“I am not wrong,” Chan cut Seungmin off calmly. “It sounds bad because it is bad. Despite any nuance of the situation, I am right. I always am.”

“Is he alive?” 

“Why? Did you think he left you to keep you safe?” Chan mused. “Like what your mother did?” 

The ground suddenly gave away from beneath you all. 

You reacted quickly, unsheathing your sword and throwing yourself toward the wall, stabbing its pointed edge inside it. You jumped to stand on the grip, only searching for your two new companions when you've stabilized yourself.

Chan resorted to a similar method with his cane, except he dangled on it as if using a pull-up bar, groaning as he tried to pull himself over his thin cane. He looked up and immediately squeezed his eyes shut, a disgusted scream louder than the rumbling of the ground pushed out of his mouth. 

"My goodness! I suggest biker shorts!"

You grimaced. You grimaced. For everything he knew about you, one would have thought he'd understand your decision to keep your attire to a minimum. Besides, you were already wearing safety shorts, albeit very short ones. He was looking for things to complain about.

Ignoring him, you waved away the dust for a clearer sight. Across you was Seungmin, his entire forearm covered in goo that stuck itself to the wall. You raised your brows; you didn't know karma has other functions, too. 

Seungmin had begun the box breathing method to ease the beating in his ears, but he wasn't so much anxious as he was exhausted. The goo around his arm needed to support his entire weight, so it was tightening on him for dear life, practically cutting off the blood circulation. It would take longer for any irreversible damage, but the fatigue and numbness arrived within seconds, making him sweat.

“There’s all the missing hikers,” Seungmin muttered as he accessed the sight.

Below the collapsed ground was a formation of blood vessels. Each of them was linked to a sharp edge protruding from the ground like a nail, and they were stacked with dead hikers still in their hiking gear. 

The blood painted onto the nails was what made the vessels red, and staring dead at you in the middle was an ember-colored hole. That was where the blood gathered, and they must all flow toward—

The curse is here. You thought as you hopped off your sword and plucked it off the wall.

Chan squirmed away from you when you fell from a great height. You dodged the nails when you landed and covered your nose with your hand upon the decaying smell of bodies around you. Carefully, you made your way to the ember in the middle. You looked at it, then up at the curse, which was just an ordinary sapling growing out of a place it shouldn't. 

You rolled your eyes and raised your sword. Before you could hit it, Chan’s boisterous holler stopped you. You lowered your sword and spun around, staring at him with wide eyes that screamed annoyance and confusion. 

He fixed himself atop his cane and huffed. "Hey! Are you sure this is a great idea?" he asked. "You don't even know what that is. What if it just gets angry and retaliates?"

He raised a good point. You just didn't care that he made one. Taking out the pen and paper he gave you from your bag, you scribbled something and held it up in his direction. Seungmin snorted as Chan leaned forward with his eyes squinted, pretending to read the words on the notepad. When he finished his theatrics, he moved away from the awkward position.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” he said with a few approving nods. “You think I made a contract with the 20/20 vision monster!”

“I don’t think someone with perfect vision can see from all the way up here either,” Seungmin chimed in.

“Just telling me you can’t read it is also an option.” You raised the paper higher by stepping on your tippy-toes.

Chan’s eye twitched. Without trying to read your handwriting, he groaned with a slurred emphasis on each word, “I can’t read it.”

You chuckled with the faint movement of your shoulders, the air punching out of your nose indicating temporary humor. Dropping the pen and paper on the floor and picking up your sword, you turned to face the ember again. As you aimed it at the ember, getting ready to stab it, a bright light engulfed you. 

You closed your eyes, bringing an arm up to block any potential attacks, and when you opened your eyes again, you were moved far away from the hole. You looked up at Seungmin, and he shrugged in response.

“It’s the Warp Curse. You didn’t think it’s going to warp you?” he said. “At least we know it doesn’t want us to destroy the ember.”

“That’s more reason not to touch it,” Chan said. “We don’t know if that is the heart of the curse. If we make it angry, we’re all doomed here.”

Seungmin pulled a face. “You mean I am doomed. Both of you are immortal.”

“They are actually partial,” Chan pointed out. “I’m the real immortal here.”

“What do we do then?” you sighed after clapping your hands for their attention, shifting your weight onto one leg and dropping your sword to your side.

“I don’t know. Do it again?” Seungmin suggested. “Let me see what it’s actually doing.”

You spared him a disapproving glance but didn’t have any brighter ideas, so you did as he asked. You approached the ember, raised your sword, and got teleported elsewhere. The pattern repeated several times until you decided to stop, glaring up at Seungmin to pressure him into figuring something out. 

He avoided eye contact to think. He noticed something, but he wasn’t sure how viable his idea was. Looking up at his arm, which must be turning paler based on the numbness, he sighed. He slowly released the karma from the wall so he could slide off of it instead of falling feet first. When he landed, he dusted his hands and hurried to where you stood. 

“Hey! Are you guys abandoning me?” Chan shouted. 

“You should join us down here!” Seungmin said. “Your face is turning red. You’re gonna fall!”

“You wish I would! I might be old, but I’m very endurable!” he exclaimed, tightening his grip on his cane. “You guys figure out how to kill the curse so I can get out of here! The dead bodies stink!”

You rolled your eyes. “The real surprise is his cane being able to hold his weight.”

“It can do much more than that,” Seungmin signed back, then he said, “It’s his partner in crime.” 

“Why does he need it?” You almost spared Chan a glance, which would have given away the fact that you were talking about him. “He doesn’t limp.”

“Nobody knows. He makes up stories. My friend looked him up, but there was nothing.” Seungmin shrugged. “He sometimes limps.”

“Nobody knows why?”

“What else can it be? An accident.”

“Hey, I love that you are hitting it off with them. But can you focus on your mute outreach program some other time? I’m getting tired!”

Seungmin put a hand on his hip and squinted, the corner of his lips quirking into an unamused smirk. “You said you’re endurable.”

“One word for you, young man–“ Chan leaned his head forward as if to spit–“coexistence!”

Seungmin turned around. “I don’t blame you if you reject our invite.”

“I hate to say this, but it’s not like I have a million dollars to give you, so why don’t we leave?” Chan continued. “The area is already on lockdown anyway. We should let the city deal with it! That’s what our tax dollars are for!”

“He hasn’t paid taxes in years. What is he talking about,” Seungmin muttered. 

“Neither have I.” You grimaced. 

“You’re legally unemployed,” he said. “You’ve never paid taxes.”

You shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. All of your bounty-hunting jobs were through backdoors. None of them were official, and most of them were suspicious, but those were the ones that paid the most. 

“Anyway, this thing seems to operate like a tunnel,” he signed. “If you get put in, you can always get pulled out.” 

As Seungmin cleverly pointed out, since the curse might understand human language, it came in handy that you two could communicate through sighs. Since he was still learning, he mainly talked through short and choppy sentences with a few keywords that could get his point across. 

He told you he noticed a few patterns of which you were warped, meaning the curse must have laid out specific routes that it could use. It was no coincidence that all those routes ended up somewhere above a nail. Another thing he saw was that you turn invisible when you were being warped, and judging by the laying of routes, he doubted the curse could see you when you were in the middle of the routes.

“Okay. This should be secure enough.” 

He squeezed your hand firmly and pulled at your fingers to check for security. You two shared a nonchalant nod as he removed his hand from yours. You rubbed your fingers to feel the goo he transferred to your skin; like he warned, they stung like spicy mint or super glue on your skin.

Seungmin watched you intently as you approached the ember again. You twirled your sword so the point faced the ground, and as you pretended to puncture the ember, you were whisked away. Forcing your eyes open, you waited a few seconds for the curse to push you toward a considerable height before you let go of your sword. 

Seungmin ran toward the direction of where you were moved away. There were only faint lines of the ‘tunnel,’ so he could barely see where you traveled to amid the multiple routes possible. He raised a hand, and a thin line of goo webbed between his and yours. He turned his wrist around the line and held it to keep it steady, and then, with one leg anchored on the floor, he pulled the string over his shoulder.

The light around you disappeared like a camera flash as you were snatched away from the air tunnel. Your blurry vision steadily rubbed itself away, but you could faintly make out the shape of your sword still in the air. Once you were almost in arm’s reach, you shot a hand out and grabbed its handle, and then you leaned your weight forward so you could begin to fall to the ground.

Seungmin raced to the ember when the karmic string snapped. There was no way the curse would idly sit by this operation, and he couldn’t count on the probability that it couldn’t activate its warp one after another within a moment’s rest. If his assumptions were correct, when you were about to fall sword first into the ember—

He pulled you down by your shirt and shielded you from behind, briefly taking your place, and then he was flung into the air. 

—the warp curse would try to remove you again.

Wind released between the crack of the broken ember, and one by one, explosions from beneath the blood trail broke apart its food source. The ground rumbled beneath you, forcing you to lose your footing. As you were too busy trying to regain your composure, a slit cracked between your feet, and then bigger and bigger until a rocky nail shot upward from the spot.

You were pushed aside in the nick of time, and there came a trail of pained groans from none other than the gentleman himself. The earthquake didn’t stop, but you scrambled up to your feet upon the chaos and bolted toward the curse. Grabbing a fistful of the sapling, you squeezed it tightly in your hand and willed for its destruction. 

Your arm twisted with a pop—a low price for multiple lives lost, and the sapling in your hand turned into ashes. 

The nails crumbled soon after, dropping all its victims to the ground in several thuds. Chan spat the blood out of his mouth as he tried to get off the ground, but instead, he flipped his body over so he could lay on his back. With his eyes closed in relief, he breathed away the pain in his chest as his curse sealed his injury up. 

“I hate this job,” he muttered, earning a chuckle from Seungmin, who walked up to him just to kick his thin.

“How’re you holding up, old man?” Seungmin asked. “Hyunjin did offer to be here today.” 

“If it wasn’t for me, they would have died–“ Chan groaned. “Ugh, I forgot they can’t die too.”

You held onto your broken arm as you made your way to them. Chan closed the eye closest to you when you neared, turning his head away and bringing a finger gun up at you.

“I’ll repeat it,” he laughed, “try biker shorts.”

You clicked your tongue as you took a big step back, pressing your hand onto your skirt to cover up. 

“Is your arm broken?” Seungmin asked, gesturing toward it. “We can check it out at base. The one who was supposed to be here in Chan’s place is our medic.”

You nodded. Agreeing to head to their home would have established your agreement to join their operation to kill the sound monster. Truthfully, there wasn’t much else you could do as an individual project now that they have explained your family history. Killing the sound monster didn’t sound like a bad next step. 

“I guess I’m in?”

“Great. I’m glad you agree,” Chan groaned as he sat up. When he noticed your surprised expressions, he smiled. “Yeah, I do know sign language. I had a weird sister.”

As you and Seungmin drowned yourselves in shock and mild annoyance, Chan ruffled his hair and looked around. He nonchalantly looked past the dead bodies on the floor and exhaled.

“Say, do you think we can still get monetary rewards for finding these missing people?”

[ouidamforeman]

Hello! Thank u for tagging me :)

Last song: I was doing errands and listened to I Melt With You by Modern English in the car lol

Favourite colour: green green green

Last book: the last book i completely finished was Piranesi by Susanna Clarke but I'm currently reading a lot of other ones especially paying attention to Wild by Amy Jeffs (medieval folklore retellings with woodcut illustrations), Seeing Sodomy in the Middle Ages by Robert Mills (a textbook about depictions and visibility of deviant sexuality in medieval Europe), and The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune, all of which I have been enjoying

Last Movie: literally couldn't tell you lol, genuinely I think it might have been Wicked last month

Last TV show: Bluey jfdhgjkdfhg I always have a cartoon on while I'm working

Sweet/spicy/savoury: all of them I don't have a preference

Last thing I searched online: oh jesus i havent saved my google search history since 2018 so I couldn't tell you but according to my browser history my most recent Search search not just clicking around socials was uhhhhh looking for pre-16th century artwork on the public domain image archive lol. I've also been going through my old Ao3 history and the beginning of the good omens tag to find more old book omens stuff for my bookmark rec list

Current obsession: its good omens its always good omens but also currently the middle ages obsession has ramped up from its normal background radiation if you couldnt tell haha

Looking forward to: ngl my current reason to live is the good omens graphic novel release in spring/summer, i bought a pretty high tier so im getting a lot of stuff and even a year and a half later i still think it was so worth the money, and also im very excited bc at the end of february im visiting my friend in DC and we are going to a good omens fan meetup together as well as going thrifting at antique malls and my favorite used bookstore :)

people I’d like to know better: hngmgmg fuck idk as soon as i tried to think about it i immediately forgot every person i know lol so if we r mutuals or u follow me feel free to do this if you want to i always like saying hi to my mutuals and followers :)

Ten people i’d like to know better

Thanks for the tag @hermiola

last song: one of the songs I loved most lately is 'In The Modern World' by Fontaines D.C.

favourite colour: blue

last book: that is not fanfic? 😂 The last book I've read is Persuasion (and yes, it was my first time). I'm currently reading Emma and a very Italian book written by the same awesome author who tagged me for this game (@hermiola 💜)

last movie: I can't tell you the last 'new' movie I watched at the cinema because I'm a bit ashamed (it's a Xmas movie made by two Italian youtubers, but what don't we do for our kids?). Last movie I watched on my couch, though, is Underworld: Rise of the Lycans (and yes, I don't feel fine about it 🤣)

last TV show: I'm watching THERE SHE GOES for the first time and I've just re-watched Around the world in 80 days. I'm also currently re-watching Scrubs and Staged with my husband (his first time, he's loving it 😂). Last 'new' show I've watched and finished is probably Dead Boy Detectives, though. Oh, I'm also currently re-watching Good Omens. Like constantly, always.

sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury

last thing i searched online: holiday vacation destinations for next summer (because the kids, again, you know 😃)

current obsession: Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens. Probably, also the whole M+D world (so, Staged too, apparently) 😂

looking forward to: those fu**ing pictures of Michael and David with dyed hair.

ten people i’d like to know better: (no pressure tags 🤩)

@anatomic-girl @ineffablerainstorm @somewhere-in-wales @captainblou @firephoenix2305 @phoen1xr0se @sunrisesinthesuburbs @bellisima-writes @yokohamama @missunderstoodlyrics

[nadinefromwhere]

Self aware (rafayel x reader) part 2

word count: 1.1k

HI GUYS IM BACKKK I JUST WANNA SAY HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! PLUS CALEB GIRLIES HOW WE FEELING RN plus enjoy this fic!!! next one will be a xav oneshot~ BUT ITS FLUFFY I PROMISE

Warnings: none

FANFIC UPDATES!!!! ao3 wattpad

Everytime he sees you, the only thing he just wanted was to hug you and never let you go. Sadly, It couldn’t happen since you were both separated by a screen. Yes, a screen.

Today was just any other day for you, Log in the game, do dailies and weeklies and maybe even farm a bit. But now it seems really weird ... .For some reason. Well not the game but its Rafayel.

Usually he’d just say something or probably be reading or sleeping but it's weird… maybe you're just hallucinating? After all, you haven't been sleeping well the past few days since you’ve been working on an art project that's due soon….

“So this is due next week, the other later, and the other….” You count how much was due, maybe around 5 - 10 projects? You slowly start regretting for procrastinating, using that time to farm in the game for rafayel’s latest banner, into the canvas. Make it even worse there was a quad banner after and you only having 300 gems was the worst…..

“I'm sorry raf but i might have to skip this incoming banner” you say sighing in defeat, turning off the game in your phone to start finishing another art project…..

Meanwhile

Rafayel pouts as he sees you close the game, The only thing he wanted in the world right now was to just hug you, not the game you but the real life you. He did notice how stressed you were nowadays, especially the fact that your schedule was packed. Sure he did see the amount of effort you did when farming and also he did find it a coincidence that you went to art school.

He waited…..and waited…..and waited….

Seriously, are you just going to be gone for the next 800 years? (even though it's only been 2 hours but still)

He kept spamming you with messages on the phone, which was very usual of him to do. While you on the other hand was focused on finishing as many projects as possible.

“If only i was there with you….i could’ve helped you out but no, i'm stuck in a screen” he says pouting

.

.

.

.

.

.

A few hours later…

“Well I'm finally done with half of it so maybe i’ll just…. Sleep it off first….” You say as you started to fall asleep while listening to one of Rafayels 4* memories..

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was so comfy, like really comfy. You know the feeling when somebody’s beside you and then it’s a rainy morning? Wait. wait this is wrong.

You live alone,

You don't even remember letting anyone sleep beside you yesterday,

NOW WHAT WAS THIS!?!?!?!

You open your eyes in panic just to see him. No other than Rafayel, the very same man that you wished to see in reality ever since you started playing love and deep space.

“Morning cutie” he says, and immediately you smack rafayel immediately, throwing him off guard. 

“Hey why smack me when you could give me a kiss :(“ Rafayel says pouting confusedly on why you would do that to him first thing in the morning. Don't you miss me?? He wonders

“You're real?” you say as you kept touching everywhere, the face, nose, hair everywhere./

“Yes I am real, didn't you sleep well yesterday?” rafayel asks, even though he knew that you probably spent studying until 3 in the morning.

“Uhm of course i did-” you say before rafayel cuts you off

“Liar i know you slept at 3 am so thats means you don't sleep well 😠” rafayel says as he looks at you as if you committed a crime or something.

“Wait how do you know-” you ask confused on how the hell did a fictional character that you loved knows you slept very late in the morning

“Because you left me all alone in the cafe to study silly girl, that's why i know” he says winking at you

“But- BUT-”

“No buts, the only thing i want to do today is just spend time with you” rafayel says as he picks you up bridal style……

The entirety of the day was spent in laughter and enjoyment, visiting the aquarium, painting with rafayel, having dinner with him and the last thing on the bucket list for today is watching the sunset at the beach.

“You know everytime i see the sunset, the first thing that reminds me is you,” Rafayel says, as he interlocked his hands with yours. 

Looking into his purple - magenta eyes before you could even say another word, suddenly you felt like you were falling into the abyss, as if you have gotten knocked out or something….

“WHAT THE-” you open your eyes just to see yourself back in your good old bedroom, same home, same lifestyle. 

“So it was just all a dream?” you wonder, as you stand up from bed. 

As you sigh and get yourself ready for uni, you find yourself lost in the moments where rafayel was doing everything with you…it felt so real you swear that it all happened….

Sometime later you find yourself in the middle of a lecture until you receive a message from an unknown number….

Messages

Unknown number: hey cutie when’s class going to finish?

You're scared. No creeped out to be exact. Who is this? How did he/she find your number? How did the person in question find out you're in class right now? Your breathing becomes heavy as you debate whether to reply or not. At this point the class wasn't the topic anymore. It was about who that was and how creepy they are.

You: who are you? If i may ask 

Unknown number: it's me cutie, the name's rafayel. Did you forget about me? 

You: yeah no way you're actually him creep. Hell no way i'm believing that easily

You close your phone as you block the number, hoping that everything won't escalate later on…..

Rafayel on the other hand, was to say driving to the art school where you study. Having a bouquet of flowers at hand as he was almost near….

“Yeah yeah whatever besides I already blocked the creep so there's nothing going to happen next right?” you say chatting with one of your friends as you walk outside the school.

Suddenly a sports car pulls up at the entrance, before you could react to anything you see a young man in his mid - twenties purple hair and purple - magenta eyes get out of the car with a bouquet at hand as he immediately spots you.

“Hey there cutie, how's life in art school?” rafayel asks, smiling as he gives you the flowers he bought earlier

You missed him. Missed his touch, his whiny voice everytime when he loses the claw machine, and how you and he would tease each other at times.

“Rafayel you jerk” you said as you immediately hugged him, not caring about anyone right now except  for him. 

“I finally found you, cutie. Don't leave me again” He says hugging you back, he finally found you. Maybe waiting for 800 years really was worth it. 

_________________________________________________________ Taglist: @ladyof-themoon

[crowreys-wormstache]

One of these days Adrian Tchaikovsky is gonna drop a novel about sentient spacefaring leeches and for about 600 pages I'm gonna be forced to care about those bastard creatures and I'm gonna LIKE IT

[starjunkyard]

(hands u a domestic hudson sketch)... Take this.......... for the journey...............

[simikae]

out of touch

as always: happy umineko day(s). i dedicate this tale to my beloved witch, hall & oates…

[can-of-slorgs]

weird girrafe

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[kabutoden]

HAPPY HOMESTUCK DAY EVERYONE!!! 413!!!

[velvetcnidarian-gems]

Was gonna add the cape and scarf but i kinda like it more without

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: a comic about Voltron characters set in a Gravity Falls au.

Keith, outside the mystery shack, picks up a stick and throws it. A large canid runs after it.

Pidge, sitting inside and looking out the window, disturbed, asks "Is that a wolf."

Lance leans over her and says "This is why I keep telling you to investigate Keith."

Pidge shoves him away, saying "This again? Keith's not an alien, Lance."

Lance says "What? I'm serious!" Pidge looks unimpressed, and he adds "Not about the alien thing." He presses his face to the window and says "But he's so mysterious. Why's he so weird."

Pidge opens a can of soda and asks "How old are you?"

Lance, counting on his fingers, lists "1. Nobody knows where he lives."

Pidge interrupts, "I don't know where YOU live."

"You're just antisocial. Matt's been over," Lance tells her, and continues "2. Does he even work here."

Pidge hides her face in her soda and says "uh."

In flashback with a much simpler style, Pidge asks Coran "DOES Keith work at the Mystery Shack?"

Coran: Why, I couldn't say!

Pidge: One way to tell is if you pay him.

Coran: Oh yes, I suppose so!

Pidge: WELL?

In the present, Pidge continues, "I still haven't been able to figure that out."

Lance narrates a few one-panel scenes of Keith being weird. He says, "Remember that time Hunk found him in the woods at night?" Hunk, carrying a telescope and looking spooked, says "H-hey, dude." Keith appears to be dripping wet, is all in shadow, and has glowing eyes.

Lance continues, "And that time he robbed a convenience store?" Lance in the past spots Keith emerging from a store and says "Oh, hey Keith." A cashier says "Stop! Thief!"

Lance adds, "And that time-" before being cut off by Pidge, who waves her arms through the scene, dissolving it. She says "OK, OK, I see your point." Looking thoughtful and a bit evil, she continues, "We'll have to stalk him on his next day off..."

Lance, startled, says "I didn't say STALK!" End ID.]

For those of you who don't remember, which I imagine is everybody, i made a gravity falls au of voltron a while back! Pidge and Matt are Dipper and Mabel, Coran is Grunkle Stan and is actually a family friend of their parents and not their uncle, the rest of the paladins sans Allura are collectively Soos and Wendy, and I went with the name "Mystery Shack" for the building instead of Castle of Lions because Castle of Lions is too cool for a tourist trap.

The vld gravity falls au tag, which i haven't updated in one hundred thousand years and which i should get around to talking more about, especially because i have the entire main plot planned out and never talk about it

[shadyhouse]

hello!!! i was able to get all my bills paid for this month without overdrafting my bank account, which is amazing 🥹 but my rent is coming up and due on the first, i only have $5 in my bank account but i need $750 to pay rent 😭😭😭 im working my ass off on comms in the coming weeks, if anyone is interested in getting one in the meantime im extremely open! $80 for a single character and $120 for two characters!

and if you cant afford that and just want to throw a few bucks at me that's much appreciated too!!! anything helps at all, anything will help me not be severely overdrafted before my next (very small) paycheck hits on the first of january!

im still on the job hunt and nothing has turned out so far unfortunately :( commissions are my main source of income for the time being since the job market is in shambles

pp: paypal.me/bewearrr

vnm: tobias_leviathan

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