#just watched her get steadily more and more evil

[wormsin]

I was talking with friends about all of the wild shit going on in 2007 and remembered that when JKR announced that Dumbledor was gay, I was so fucking pissed at her. I was furious and so were my queer/trans friends. because she announced this after all of the books were out. she didn't *write* him gay, she didn't say "this wonderful important powerful character" is gay in her books, her extremely popular books that are so popular they are read across the entire world, which would have actually fucking done something, it probably would have been the one time queer representation could have noticeably helped the queer liberation movement. she could have actually done allyship but she didn't.

instead she just made an announcement, and she did it for PR. she did it for brownie points. for marketing. and I already had outgrown her children's books but I was so fucking mad that I vowed to never support her again.

and I was so fucking right.

[abysswalkerastraea1]

Concurrent Resurgence

A staggering impossibility had occurred on the night of your death. And now, reborn and unhinged; bound to that creature they call the Miles County Clown, you'd witness first-hand just how far your depravity could go.

17k words

Size kink

Art is so dominant I needed an outlet to express this

A staggering impossibility had occurred on the night of your death. Just like any regular woman, you screamed and cried and ran from the miles county killer, in a state of frenzy and terror up until the very end.

Your life hung on the precipice as you lay upon the ground, torn open from the midsection and gasping on wet breaths, watching that demonic clown hunker down low, leaning over your friend Vicky as he devoured her face.

You remembered the world becoming dimmer and dimmer, wondering when you'd be devoured next, hoping to God you'd die first so that you didn't have to feel the excruciating pain Vicky had.

Your wish had been granted mercifully, the sound of police sirens and shouting fading out as you heard the final cacophony of a gunshot, and then your world turned black.

Lying as a bloodied corpse in the morgue, you didn't expect to open yours eyes ever again, life beating steadily throughout you even as something dark and heavy like lead anchored you boundlessly to miles county.

You came to the conclusion that you and Art miraculously died at the same time, yours from your injuries while his was from a gunshot to the head. You both breathed your last breath, and now you were both alive.

It was as though his dying soul had latched onto your corpse, a shard of it replenishing what should have been dead and burdening you with rot, decay and evil.

Art had tried to kill you on many occasions since then. He was pleasantly surprised at seeing you whole again, grinning and waving jovially, eager to murder you all over again, only..

You couldn't die, it was as though you were both the oxygen and the blood that keeps one another alive; if one dies, so does the other.

It took some back and forth, cat and mouse antics to learn this. He'd try and catch you, gripping you by the hair with a mallet in the other hand, bringing it down in a devastating blow. You think he realised something had changed when you caught his wrist with an incredible strength you never used to possess and forced his head through a break wall.

Art had given you something, and he cursed you because he knew he could never get it back.

You were two halves of the same coin, polar opposites and yet vastly similar now. Humanity remained within you, somewhere, but your emotions became dim, your morals deathly low, and evil began festering.

You became violent. Explosive, uncharacteristically wrathful. It didn't feel wrong, either. It felt good, and the effort it took not to absolutely maim someone was immeasurable.

Still, humanity lingered in certain things you did, and especially the way you processed emotions, even if they were as muddled as dirty water.

You and Arts lives were intertwined now, and although he had eventually gotten over the fact that he couldn't kill you, you saw him more often than you liked, your meetings often tedious and full of hate.

For the most part, him seeing you often resulted in the biggest, most dramatic eye roll you had ever witnessed, his middle finger sticking right up at you. He didn't find you fun anymore; you were as immortal as him, and that meant you were untouchable, as was he.

You don't know if it was coincidence or some sort of fucked up connection that made you cross paths so often. It made sense, considering a part of him lived within you.

And just like always, Art was there to make everything worse.

For the longest time you tried avidly to enter civilisation again, whether that be from trying to get a decent job, to going to parties and attempting to make friends, or even just simple things like getting your hair done and a manicure.

Half of you wanted your humanity to be in complete control again, enjoying the freedom of joy and life. The other half began condemning regular humans, wanting to be forcefully ostracised from society and it's confinement.

Parties didn't help. On your list of things that did help, partying was the absolute rock bottom. Your alcohol tolerance was still horrifically low, and your ire and hate for the people around you jumped tenfold.

So, all that would really happen is you'd try as politely as possible to make friends at a party, get rejected, and savagely smash their heads into nearby picture frames. Or whatever happened to decorate the wall.

You'd then drink, alone, and become devastatingly drunk. And of course each and every time, Art would find a spare minute or two to observe you once you made your horrible walk of shame home, appearing from the darkness just to point and laugh at you and buckle over.

With your newfound strength and wrath, this often led to fights with you being the instigator.

Bottle in hand, you smashed it into the clowns face viciously, watching his expression turn to one of dramatic shock as he fell backwards from the force, your drunk self falling with him.

You were so intoxicated that once you hit his body you could hardly stand back up. Head laid against his shoulder awkwardly, you groaned and tried to ground yourself with a hand against his chest, collapsing with your feeble attempts.

You winced as your face made contact with the floor all of a sudden, Art having pushed you off roughly with a grimace.

Art knew he couldn't kill you, but he could break your ribs for good measure, grinning at the sickening crack of his boot ramming into your side. It caused you to vomit and go unconscious.

You woke up the next day in broad daylight, laying in the piss stained alleyway littered with rats. Chunks of your vomit and dirt spelling out 'Whore' across your forehead.

Since then, you and Art had toned down your rivalry somewhat, no longer fighting like cat and dog every other night, viciously finding ways to carve each other up.

You avoided each other for the most part. On occasion Art would seek you out just to be an asshole, slicing your cheek with a scalpel just after you'd finished doing your makeup, which infuriated you. Or after having your hair freshly done, he'd smear questionable substances all over it.

You had gotten so angry at that, that you'd went to his rotten workplace and tore half of it down before he managed to stop you.

Art - having realised the repercussions of having an enemy that he could not kill, that would be around with him forever and that would ruin his artisan-level work - certainly toned down his pestering.

You didn't see sight of him for a month after that. Let the asshole cry and lick his wounds, you had thought joyfully.

And now, he breaks into your home like it was his own, eating from your fridge and using your shower. You detested it at the beginning, throwing fully fledged tantrums at the fact that no matter what, you could not kill him. And hurting him too badly would in turn hurt you.

It was something you came to accept. After almost a year of fighting and stubbornness, you both began to yield, realising a stalemate when you saw one.

Art no longer smeared literal shit in your hair and you no longer broke his weapons. Seemed fair.

On the two year mark, Art frequented your home even more. Probably because it had everything he needed, and it had gotten to the point that you didn't even bat an eye at him. You'd still fight, where he'd end up laughing and mocking you and you'd end up furiously screaming at him, but it never really escalated from there.

Physical confrontation did happen rarely, but nothing..drastic. That shard of him within you had made you struggle to control your anger even after two years.

And then other times you sat silently on your settee, blanket drawn up to your chin as you watched a horror film alone. Just like every night, Art would come in and ignore you, but sometimes he'd be curious as to what you were doing, and flop down beside you far too casually.

You'd spare him a neutral glance, carelessly throwing the end of your large blanket at him. He'd excitedly accept it. He viewed it as one of your ritualistic customs when watching something you deemed as scary. Him accepting the blanket meant he was curious to know just what this 'terrifying' movie was about.

"Okay so, they can't find the key to unchain themselves to escape, so that guy has to saw his leg off.", you elaborated quickly, watching the scene unfold.

It wasn't your favourite film but it was on TV at the moment. Art folded his arms, watching patiently as the story proceeded. Your attention eventually faltered as a text message came through.

You responded promptly before putting your phone down. Then, another came through, and another, and you'd giggle to yourself quietly, typing. Art lolled his head back and to the side, watchful. You never really used that device anymore, he wondered what it was that gripped you so much.

He didn't have to wonder much longer as he ripped your phone from your hands and darted up, standing to his full height as he swiftly perused the text messages.

You jumped up after him, reaching a hand up to grab at him only for him to lift the phone above his head, gaze staring up to read them.

"Give me my phone now! I swear to God Art I'll fucking--", the rest of your complaining fell on deaf ears. Art rolled his eyes, all you ever did was pull tantrums and shout. And you never shut up, prattling on about one thing or another, screaming profanities and empty threats that Art didn't even deign to laugh at anymore, that's how common they were.

Eyes scanning the messages, a grin began to grow on his face, until full fledged laughter erupted silently. You seethed at him, clawing at his hands to try and grab it. Art eventually gave in, rolling his eyes at your continued threats, putting a hand against your shoulder and roughly shoving you away, phone thrown into your lap as you fell against the settee.

Before he left, Art turned back with his horn held between his legs obscenely, stroking it with a surprised face, eyebrows high and lips forming an 'o' shape.

You glared at him, but couldn't deny the way your cheeks reddened as his stroking got faster and his eyes rolled back in mock euphoria. You folded your arms and shrugged; you had nothing to say to that. Yes you were sexting some random guy and yes you wanted some dick.

Art tipped his hat with a dead expression, his mimicry representing a gentlemanly 'farewell and adieu', and his expression reading 'desperate whore'.

Before he finally departed, Art held up a scissors in one hand and a pliers in the other. He snipped them sassily, threateningly, grinning all the while.

"Yeah, well, if he's shit you're more than welcome to use them on him." You assured, and you meant it too. This guy seemed a little odd anyway, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Art seemed pleasantly happy with that, giving you a thumbs up with his back turned as he left the house in his Santa getup.

It was probably because you were overly horny, but...

No, you shook your head. Now is not the time to think of him like that. Honestly, you were getting more depraved every week.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You don't know what you were expecting, but it was.. anticlimactic.

You had become so sinful since your rebirth, average sex no longer doing it for you. The first guy was okay, an asshole, but okay. You tried so hard to be pleasant and normal but frustration and an unhinged desire coursed through you desperately.

It wasn't as though his dick wasn't to your liking, he was just so average and fucking human that you didn't even manage to get to the part that you desperately craved, your disgust evident.

Anyway, he seemed to think you had a bad attitude - you did - which led to arguing. You were not backing down and neither was he.

Raised voices turned into insults, both of you storming out of your bedroom and down the stairs as you reigned your anger in and told him to get out.

You could see Art from the front door, he must've came home at some point, focus taken from the TV as he watched you both scream at each other, boots propped up on your fucking coffee table which you told him not to do so many times-

And then your cheek was turning as this assholes hand met the side of your face.

You could feel your teeth clenching. Your face remained stoic, eyes burning with fury. You could see Art chuckling cruelly in the background, shoulders moving silently, incredibly invested in how this is going to play out.

It was only then did the asshole seem to notice a flash of black and white in the background, turning with an ugly scowl to the clown who now suddenly stood with a large smile, hands clenching and unclenching in anticipation.

He faltered, mild confusion and anger still evident in his scowl. An angry finger pointed in the clowns direction. "Who the fuck is that? You got a queue lining up after me, honey?" He spat the vile words at you, acidic and full of disgust.

You didn't have a chance to respond, lips quirking in mild amusement and eyes smouldered like a fiery, dark pit. The man scoffed, rolling his eyes at the demonic clown, before gazing back down at you with his lips snarling enough to bare his teeth.

"I knew there was something off about you, you fucking slut. Too proud to put out and, let's be honest," the man gave you a slow, disgusting once over, "not much to look at."

Something in you snapped, but all that came out was a gentle, breathy laugh, your eyes shining and dancing with a peculiar emotion. You wonder what it reflected. Judging by the way Art tilted his head from afar, assessing, before beginning to chuckle to himself even more, it must've been something ominous.

"What the fuck are you laughing at, asshole? Want me to come over there and give you something to really laugh at?!" The man roared at Art from across the room, utterly furious, fists clenched until the knuckles turned white.

Art began pointing and laughing now, wide eyed and crazed as he nodded vigorously as though to say 'please do!'

Before he could, you gripped his arm gently; your expression depicted a mocking sense of disappointment. "I've ruined your night, and wasted all of your precious time." You huffed, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat for him, indignant at yourself. "And like you said, I'm really not looking my best, am I? I apologize.", you smiled sweetly up at him, eyes squinted almost cutely.

The man paused at your admittance, evidently not used to any woman ever agreeing with him. He relaxed somewhat, nodding to himself as though to say yes, you are the problem, not him.

Arts dark eyes bored into your form, entranced, unsmiling, deadly.

"I'll make it up to you."

Your smile spread eerily wide, slow and deliberate and full of glee, frozen on your face. There was something ominous about you, mouth spread so far it looked as though you were doing a poor imitation of how a human should smile. It was too wide, too happy, unnatural. Slowly, you made your way to the kitchen.

The man appeared shocked and faltered, squinting at you as though to decipher what's going on. It felt like his eyes deceived him, searching desperately. Did he hear wrong? Did he miss something? Turning back towards the clown for some semblance of an answer, he seemed to have vanished. There was no trace of him ever being there, and there was no sound.

All was too silent, too calm, and it made his nerves stand on end, unsure, horrifically uncertain about everything he had just witnessed. He needed to leave.

The man tensed, back stepping at the sudden eeriness. It was so quiet, in fact, that part of his mind doubted that he had ever spoken to someone in the first place. Shaking his head, he turned to leave. There had to be a logical explanation for all of this. Without another thought, he turned and made his way to the front door.

If not that, then the knife embedded in his back surely did.

His keys suddenly dropped to the floor from his hand. The sound was loud, and would probably shock anyone out of a daydream.

Though, a second later, the horrific cry that surely tore his vocal chords was loud enough to make it evidently clear that this was all very real.

The life that had been temporarily drained from the house now sprung to life viciously, all at once.

Gripping a fistful of his hair, you dragged him roughly through your living room, kicking him so hard in the chest he convulsed, air struggling to enter his wheezing lungs. Blood covered his chin, eyes wide and unable to comprehend these sudden events; Questions swirled in his horrified orbs.

Lips curling in disgust, you jumped on top of him and began violently beating him. The man struggled hard, trying to buck you off of him and attack you back but to no avail. You were as immovable as a wall, face stoic and nonchalant as the man flailed back and forth, desperate to escape.

His eyes were wide, terrified, blood pouring down his face. In a flash, you held his fist tightly, catching it before it could make contact with you. You began to chuckle, mirth dancing in your irises, squeezing so hard you could feel the bone snapping.

It wasn't normal, this level of power, but it felt so beautifully natural to you, something dark and radiantly evil crying out in glory at your actions, delightfully satisfied.

He roared in pain, tears involuntarily streaming down his face, hand mangled and deranged looking as he cradled it to his chest. He shuddered violently, eyes wild in horror. "What the fuck are you?!"

"Me?", you thought aloud softly, bloody hand to your chin contemplatively as you stared up at Art, who was so suddenly by your side that it made the man flinch and choke on his breath in fright.

"I'm a..slut, right? That's the word you used?" You looked at the man for confirmation, who shook his head swiftly in regret, face contorting miserably as he realized his grave error. He began to sob.

You gazed up at Art, who was clenching his hands rhythmically again, laughter shaking his shoulders. There was more than satisfaction at watching this asshole get beaten; almost a hidden connection of evil sparking between you both. He was corrupting you, but you yourself made these choices. You, avidly, enjoyed this outcome.

"Is that right, Art? He said slut, didn't he?", you hummed in thought, scratching your head for an answer. Your crimson hands dyed your hair a terrifying red as you curled a lock thoughtfully between your fingers.

Art nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off the way your blue orbs became corrupted, like sediment contaminating a clear pool. They shined as black as his now.

"It's funny," you began with a dreamy sigh, eyelashes fluttering back down at the miserable sight below you. The whites of your eyes appeared disturbingly bloodshot. "For being such a slut, I haven't managed to get a good look at you yet. We didn't get too far earlier, did we?"

The man below you was hyper ventilating now, shaking his head furiously, knowing and fearing where this was going. His mangled hand joined the other in what looked like to be a feeble prayer, chest rising and falling rapidly. "I-Im sorry! Youre not a slut, you're--youre stunning and I'm so, so fucking sorry--"

Your act dropped then, eyes dead and void. A sense of dread hung heavy in the air for this man; There was no way out, and no amount of pleading would change that. You lifted your knife carelessly in the air, twirling the weapon hauntingly. The look the man gave you would stay in your memory for a while, it was full of pure, unadulterated terror.

You brought the knife down, slicing in his groin. The man screamed so loud you thought his vocal chords had torn. Blood pooled around you, soaked you, bathed you in a pretty crimson to match your nails.

Art was a hysterical mess, hunched over and pointing and laughing, miming a condescending, fake sobbing at the pathetic man. He held a sinister mirth in his eyes, absolutely buckled.

Grotesquely, you dug your hands into the gaping wound you had made in the man's genitals, rummaging around with the sounds of squelching blood permeating the air. Finding what you were looking for, you held it up high between your finger and thumb, expression holding that all too familiar disappointment.

Your lips quirked, "Not such a big man now, are you?"

Art was rife with laughter and joyfulness, and before you knew it, your giggling turned into cackling, blood smeared all over yourself as you held your stomach, tears falling down your cheeks in sick, dark satisfaction.

You hadn't laughed this hard in years, hadn't felt this liberated and happy in a while. Everytime you calmed down, giggles becoming quiet, Art would hold up the castrated organ absurdly, wiggling it like an ugly worm with a look of surprise on his face, eyebrows high and mouth open, and you'd be on the floor cackling madly once again.

It must've been a grotesque sight, you on your knees upon the floor, blood sinking so deeply into your clothes you wondered if it would come out, wiping tears of laughter away only to smudge deep streaks of red across your cheeks. You looked like an animal, rabid and violent.

Art gazed down at your crazed form with a smirk of satisfaction, chaos swirling in his eyes. It was as though he had been waiting for that part of him to corrupt you, for your anger to explode, for your unhinged desires to manifest.

After some time, everything fell peacefully quiet. It was comfortable, and dare you say amicable. Your breathing was the only sound in the room, slowing down as you gazed down at the way your feet were absolutely soaked red.

Leaning back on your hands, you caught sight of the demonic clown with his arms folded, leaning against the wall. He seemed serene, no longer smiling but definitely not frowning either. His black eyes perused the coating of blood on the floor, making their way up to study you deliberately.

His stare was intense, and you couldn't stop your cheeks from lifting upwards into a smile. Pushing yourself to a stand, you grimaced at the mutilated body on the floor and shivered in disgust.

You nudged at the corpse with your foot, cringing. "Maybe mortal men just aren't for me, anymore. "Though," you began as an afterthought, "even if I had a boyfriend, you'd probably kill him anyway." You sighed, fully acknowledging this.

You weren't even aggravated by that fact anymore. It would've really angered you once, but what's the point? You and Art seemed bound together forever, by the looks of it. You couldn't imagine him sitting idly with another person in the house. But then again, neither would you.

Art deliberated, gazing upwards in brief thought, before shrugging too. Yeah, probably. Just to get under your skin, mostly. And maybe an inkling of something else. He finally nodded, eyes staring down at you from his nose, like an old librarian with their glasses on the end of their nose. Snobbish. He had a reputation to up hold, you know. His nonchalant expression read 'well, you're not wrong.'

You scoffed, though offered a small smile nonetheless. He was amusing. For a silent clown, he was awfully verbal with his theatrical ways.

But now you began to think solemnly; What you just did - the killing, the maiming, the castrating - was vile. It was unforgivable, sickening. Your human half knows this, and something is conflicted within you. It felt like two halves of yourself were at war.

Even still, you felt joy. And you know that's wrong, and it's absolutely maniacal. But what's even more astounding is right here, on a late Saturday evening, you and that stupid clown stood with an air of tranquillity and comfort, together. If this was two years ago, you'd be within inches of maiming each other.

Like a domesticated couple, Art got to work on disposing of the body, dragging it with ease to your back door, before disappearing. It left a streak of smudged red on your tiles. You got to work cleaning, rolling your sleeves up as you hunted for something to make your floor shine again. It took a while, but he was gone for some time anyway.

By the time everything was relatively tidy, it was past midnight. The stain on the floor had disappeared thankfully, and you felt refreshed after a hot bath, changing into comfortable pyjamas and fluffy socks.

You sat in your bed, blankets pulled comfortingly up to your stomach. Your bedroom was filled with dim lights, and they had their necessary effect of making you feel content.

You had chosen a random film to watch on tv. It didn't really matter which one because your thoughts were otherwise occupied. It played serenely in the background, but something was bothering you.

A part of you felt slightly deflated. You were still undeniably frustrated and borderline desperate to have this desire quelled within you, and now that you had a moment to yourself, it barrelled to the forefront of your mind.

It was a ridiculous feeling, but you couldn't help that you were so pent up. Maybe you were ovulating. That did tend to make your hormones go haywire.

Even still, you hadn't long killed a man. It would be wrong to..indulge after that, wouldn't it? You pursed your lips in thought, two sides of yourself fighting menacingly. You couldn't tell if your good was being corrupted, or if Arts evil that had tainted you had brought out repressed, dark feelings that most humans surely kept hidden.

You didn't feel guilty, which was peculiar. Your nature before meeting Art often held a lot of empathy. You could feel yourself shifting, but you could never pinpoint the change until it had already been demonstrated. From the way Art pierced his black eyes into you, you bet he could see the transformation easily.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the background noise of the TV suddenly became incredibly interesting to your brain. You paused, peering at the TV as the sounds of quiet gasps and sloppy kissing filled your room.

It wasn't even particularly erotic, but..

Even just the sounds had your pulse increasing ever so slightly. In your desperate state of mind, it was easy to imagine how that messy kissing felt, tangled up in somebody else, remembering the feel of bolts of arousal shooting down your body in tingles as it became more passionate, more eager.

You were in a trance, frozen as you watched and drank up every detail. Male hands gliding down a womanly figure, cupping her heavy breasts and listening to the shaky inhales and exhales she made, back arching into his hands needily.

You felt a hot warmth bloom in your abdomen, a pulse beating steadily between your thighs. How were you so affected by this? You weren't even just mildly turned on, you were in a state of full blown arousal, a stickiness oozing between your legs. You felt like some of that was from earlier, mostly from the anticipation of sex rather than the futile attempts that asshole made on you.

The image now depicted the man positioning the woman on her hands and knees, readying her. You gripped your blanket, wanting so badly to be touched like that again and actually enjoy it.

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, hyper analysing every detail you could take in. The world around you faded.

The actor on screen gripped the woman's hips roughly, situating himself behind her. He gave her no time to prepare before sinking in slowly, and you watched the way her lips spread open in a quiet moan, brows furrowed and chest rising and falling rapidly.

A wave of heat flashed through you, making you warm enough that you had to kick the blanket off your person. What film was this? It was incredibly pornographic, not that you were complaining..

Your bottoms were next to go, tossed haphazardly to the floor; you were sweltering. Granted, the room was far too warm anyway, but what you were witnessing on screen had you in a completely different state of over heating.

All you had on now was a pair of black, silky underwear and an oversized top. You felt dishevelled, and sighed as the scene ended far too quickly for your liking and the TV adverts started to play.

You watched on in boredom as Christmas adverts began popping up colourfully with the sound of bells ringing. You felt mildly irritated, your arousal fizzling considerably, but still prominent. You were left with the sticky reminder between your thighs, head lolling back against your bedframe.

Your head rolled to the left, eyes staring down your nose at the sight of your bedside drawer. Specifically, the one that held a lot of intimate objects. You felt a little cautious using the vibrator because knowing Art, he'd curiously come up to see what the noise was; he seemed to have acute hearing.

But if you went under the blankets, vibrator hidden between your thighs, there's no way he'd hear that. Your door was firmly shut and the buzzing was incredibly muffled under your duvet. You'd be quiet and keep it on the first setting.

You were astounded once again at just how wound up and sensitive you are, vibrator delicately touching your clit as your phone displayed a pornographic video.

The cock on the screen was a good size, and as you watched it's girth spread the woman's puffy labia, a sudden desperation gnawed through you. You pressed the vibrator onto your clit more directly, the bottom of your t shirt caught between your lips as your tits jutted out prettily on display, nipples pert.

You bit down on the fabric to quell your whines of delight, breathing sharp and fast through your nose as the vibrating against your clit became over whelming, body alight with a white hot fire that spanned from your abdomen down to your toes.

Your sodden hole clenched needily, you wanted to be filled but you needed a man to do that. You wanted to receive a worthy dick that would split you in half just like the woman on your small screen.

The scene changed abruptly, and what was shown next had your hips bucking desperately into the vibrator, teeth now clenching the fabric hard as your breathing became heavy through your nose, pleasure intensifying.

The man had the woman on her knees, his member shoved ruthlessly into her mouth as he gripped a fistful of her hair and used her like a toy. Saliva decorated her mouth, and you watched with rapt attention as the mans heavy balls slapped her chin; it all seemed degrading, but..

A moan escaped you, muffled, and your back arched as you moved a hand between your thighs and touched the outside of your entrance; you were absurdly wet, sinking straight through your underwear and smearing your inner thighs.

You so desperately wanted to grab the dildo from your draw and push it deep within yourself, hard, but you refrained. Your climax was approaching anyway, and you could hardly stop yourself from whining at the thought of being the woman on the screen, sucking a hard dick as you made a messy pool of wetness below you, begging to be split apart.

From there, it was a hasty descent into blinding pleasure, your wariness dimming as low moans escaped your lips. Your eyes were shut now, permanent soft frown creasing your eyebrows as you were so close to your peak, cresting at the very precipice--

A loud bang resounded in your room, loud enough to drag you out of your delirious stupor. Your eyes shot open in annoyance, wondering if you had kicked your remote control off of the bed, but then your blood turned to ice in your veins.

In fact, you sat so absurdly shocked that all movements ceased, eyes wide and unblinking at the now ajar door of your bedroom which you definitely, without doubt, unequivocally, had shut earlier.

You blinked rapidly, vibrator dropping from your hand. It buzzed obscenely on the bed with a sheen of lubrication covering the tip, but you hardly registered it.

The door was less than halfway ajar, your dark hallway the only thing you could see, and..

A hand flew to your mouth in utter mortification, cheeks flaming crimson. You felt dizzy with a multitude of emotions.

A messy, hand written note was celotaped to your door. In jagged, capital letters spelled 'Art was here'. With a crude, childish winky face drawn beside it.

Your breathing increased suddenly, limbs shaking with not only the almost-orgasm you were about to receive, but also the unusual fluttering of your stomach in nervous humiliation and something else.

You felt severely perplexed, biting your nails as you tried to reminisce, tried to pinpoint when and how he had opened the door without you knowing and celotaped that preposterous note to your door. How was that even possible?

Clearly, Art wanted to grab your attention just as you were about to orgasm, most likely banging your wall from the hallway, hard. It sounded like a picture frame had fallen.

That made sense. At the very least, one thing did. But what about the rest, how was he able to furtively open your door, noiselessly, undoubtedly watching you?

You bolted up straighter, eyes darting around anxiously. Oh my God, he hadn't just intuitively known you were touching yourself, he must've heard something. Were you loud? You couldn't remember, you were so dazed.

Your mind created pictures of your thoughts, envisioning him opening your door just a crack and--

Your hands covered your face. You were so embarrassed. Had he been watching you? He surely had. And alongside this humiliation, why did you feel a flutter of nervous excitement roll through you? Were you so depraved?

Your hands kneaded your blanket, gripping handfuls and releasing rhythmically. Holy God, Art had made you feel many things over the years.

Hatred, annoyance, recent joy and laughter, fear, anxiety, you could go on and on, but this?

This was something new. And yeah, maybe he only did it to get under your skin. What better way to mortify a woman than catching her red handed, touching herself, and calling her out on it?

But..

Your thoughts took it a step further.

Was there..any other reason?

You bit your lip in contemplation, arms wrapped around yourself comfortingly. At some point over the past two years, brief thoughts of the demonic clown had entered your mind, fleeting sexual thoughts that left as quickly as they came.

Because, well, you were evidently desperate at this point. And he had a certain charm about him, once you got passed the ire you once held for him. And he was a man, or in a man's body, anyway.

Your mind swirled with questions, dirty thoughts, and unending embarrassment each time you realised he probably saw everything that you did.

And he probably saw the way your teeth gnawed into your shirt to silence yourself, heavy breasts poking out beneath, fully exposed, expression one of unbridled, desperate pleasure.

Your heart beat felt like it was in your ears, anxiety high. The door remained open for a reason. He wanted you to come out, and then wanted to absolutely humiliate you.

You got along a lot better now, as evidenced earlier, but that didn't mean that he'd stop messing with you.

Begrudgingly, you knew that even with your enhanced abilities and strength, you were no match for him. If he wanted to truly be hidden, he would. If he wanted to truly be swift and unseen in his movements, he would be.

You often found your bizarre abilities only worked when you were angry, or felt some sort of negative emotion.

Otherwise, you were just a regular human, having no control over that shard of terror that lingered within you from your rebirth.

Steeling your nerves, you took slow steps towards the door. You were still clad in your long t shirt and fluffy socks, and schooled your expression into one of stern stoicism.

You couldn't avoid that asshole forever.

Gripping the door handle, you stepped fully into the darkness of the hallway, enveloped. Standing still for a few moments, you realised he obviously wasn't outside your door, waiting to terrify you.

Swallowing nervously, you made your way downstairs. The stairs groaned and creaked like they always did, but it sounded absolutely deafening to you as it signalled your descent.

Out of everything that he had ever done to you - from killing you, to breaking your bones, stabbing you and everything else - this made you feel the most vulnerable.

Your living room was pitch black, not a single light illuminating the area. You held your breath, listening as intently as you could.

Silence.

Your throat felt too dry to call out to him. You knew your voice would shake, your words would stammer. It would make the situation even more shameful, so you remained quiet.

Your eyes surveyed the living room in darkness, honing in on any unnatural shadow that seemed a little too eerie; he wasn't here. That frightened you more than if he had taken this moment to jump out at you.

Uneasy frustration welled up within you. Not only had your pleasure been ripped away from you, your legs uncomfortably sticky, but now you felt incredibly exposed.

Inhaling deeply, you glared holes into your kitchen door. Two things could happen here: Either he was in there waiting to scare the hell out of you, or he wasn't in there at all, making you more on edge.

You pushed the door open, trailing inside with faux confidence, switching the lights on.

Nobody was here.

If anything, the kitchen was still surprisingly how you left it earlier - clean. Eyebrows drawing together into a scowl, you grabbed a glass of water, chair screeching as you took a seat.

Art must've pulled that trick on you and then promptly left, entering the night to no doubt destroy another victims life.

Brushing your dishevelled hair out of your face, you sat back against the chair defeatedly. Well, your emotions aren't going to change what's already happened, and you'd have to face that asshole at some point.

Evidently, tonight was not the night.

Glancing at the clock, you couldn't believe that it was already 3am. Your eyes felt heavy, your limbs felt weary and you were burnt out.

Peering around the kitchen, you realised that you must've left your phone upstairs.

That's fine, you needed to sleep anyway. Pushing yourself to a stand, you trudged sleepily up the shadowed stairs, rubbing at your burning eyes with the back of your hand.

You felt content at the moment to sleep off the crazy events of the day and worry about them tomorrow. Your door was open, just as you had left it, and the comforting glow of your warm lights that emitted from inside welcomed you with open arms.

Stepping into the safety of your room felt relieving, and as you turned back to close the bedroom door firmly, you came face to terrifying face with a chest.

You froze, mind pausing in fright at the sudden, tall body that blocked your doorway. You blinked rapidly, face displaying astonishment, and snapped your head up at the perpetrator, wide eyed.

What stared back down at you made caution well up inside you. Art stood tall, appearing out of thin air clad in his absurd Santa costume. It suited him, and the bulky material only served to make his structure appear even bigger, more menacing.

Your eyes fluttered up at him with uncertainty, darting rapidly between his face and his chest as you struggled to maintain his intense eye contact.

The clowns face was all sharp contours, edged smile of amusement plastered to his face as he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed languidly across his chest, widening his overall structure considerably. Has he always been this big?

He watched you with a wide, salacious grin, eyes alight and unwavering, and from the glint in his eye you knew what was about to come.

You swallowed, feeling your mask of neutrality betraying you as your body heated up, displaying a pink hue to your complexion. You didn't know what to say, how to act. Art could see this, the way you'd open your mouth only to close it, eyes darting around nervously.

You were usually so full of complaints, insults and incredibly argumentative when he had 'crossed the line', as you so often called it. As he so often did. Since your rebirth, you were all fire and wrath, near enough ripping his head off for something as simple as leaving a bloody mess on your floors or your door handles, if he didn't clean it anyway.

Of course, Art had begrudgingly agreed with you long ago to cease the truly harsh fighting, but that didn't mean that you didn't bicker, in a sense. He liked your ire, the way your teeth would grind together in anger, the way you'd go into an absolute fit if he threatened to childishly mess with your makeup and clothes, or anything you held valuable, really.

It was funny, and he knew you secretly got a kick out of it. Once the cat and dog game was over, you'd snap back to being a sweet, little human. It was interesting, and so amusing.

But this? Art peered down at you deliberately, perusing your flushed exterior with a smug, self satisfied grin.

He had been looking for new ways to get you to crack. So far, everything annoying he did was met with your aggressive screeches, and that was fine. But he needed something juicy, needed something that would really bother you, rile you up.

For a while, he struggled to find anything. He couldn't go too far with his schemes - you were both bound together, after all, so that would be met with futility.

He truly enjoyed bothering you, that was true, but his methods got boring. What could he possibly do that would make you think twice, or go silent? What would really shock you, make you revert back into your humanity, so full of emotion?

As a point of reiteration, he could have done many crude, evil and horrific things, but he couldn't because of your peculiar connection. So, he had to settle for something that was..bearable to you, but also astounding.

He came across this opportunity by pure chance. He knew what you got up to behind closed doors, you were a needy thing, but he didn't really think twice about it. He kept the knowledge of it quiet, however, just in case he ever needed to utilise it for fun.

It didn't interest him, initially. He enjoyed inflicting pain, mentally and physically, so the fact that you would so often touch yourself to induce pleasure wasn't particularly within his territory of fixations. He had other things that kept him occupied.

However, hearing your laboured breathing and quiet little moans had piqued his interest on this particular day. He had no reason for that, other than the simple fact that he wanted to spy on you. It was an urge that came by on a whim; it meant nothing, it is nothing, but Art often acted spontaneously on how he felt in the moment.

Mortal flesh did so often have its urges.

And a light bulb certainly lit up within his mind - this was the perfect way to humiliate you.

He had watched the way you gnawed at your t-shirt to keep quiet, pretty pert tits on display as you brought yourself closer and closer to completion. Art had grinned wickedly at the scene, hands fisting and shaking in excitement at the thought of never letting you live this down.

But, upon watching further, witnessing the way your head lolled back pleasurably, back arching and legs splayed wide in pure need, he couldn't deny the barely restrained desire to storm in and tease you until you were wracked with sobs.

Art had frowned in puzzlement at that feeling - it was incredibly rare for him - but his smile soon returned, shrugging as he accepted his feelings. If anything, this would only serve to embarrass you even more, he thought.

And now, dark eyes trained on your rapidly warming face, Art was enraptured by the amount of emotion that seemed to demonstrate itself. Your expressions changed quickly, and the details were minuscule, but he could see you entering a vicious cycle of bewilderment, embarrassment, anger and self consciousness.

It was as though your brain didn't know whether to lash out or guard itself. It was entertaining.

The silence hung heavily. Arts position remained the same, leaned casually against the doorframe, and yours remained as rigid and tense as ever. Your mind felt muddled. With a slow breath, your expression fell flat. Even still, you couldn't look him in the eye, and instead glared heavily at his chest.

"Stop it.", you began with a quiet, indignant scowl, chastising him. Your eyebrows drew together, so incredibly uncertain. His eyes bored holes into you and it was making you squirm. You were too stubborn to turn away.

Even still, you'd admit defeat temporarily. You didn't have the energy to battle him right now. With a huff, you turned on your heel and made your way to the bed, exasperatedly throwing your arms up into the air.

"Fine, stay there and stare all night for all I care; I'm tired." But you did care, didn't you? It gnawed at you.

Barely making it to the bed, you stopped abruptly at the sound of fingers snapping at you once, twice, seeking your attention. With a roll of your eyes, you slowly turned to look at him, expression thunderous. "Art, I'm not in the mood for this, and-- is that my phone?"

You barely breathed the question in masked panic, eyes wide once more as your phone dangled teasingly from his fingertips, wide grin stretching impossibly further.

The clown shrugged softly as though to say 'maybe', shoulders beginning to move rapidly, rising and falling in laughter as he held a hand to his mouth in faux astonishment at whatever was showing on your phone.

He feigned a look of bashfulness, fanning his face for a moment, eyes fluttering, before pointing and laughing at you some more. Your face twitched in it's attempt to remain calm and neutral, but Art could see right through you.

Covering his eyes obscenely at whatever was on the screen, but still very clearly peeking through the gaps in his fingers, Art swiftly turned the phone around so you could have a look.

That's when your mouth went dry and heat began to pinken your face even more. On the screen displayed the porn you were looking at earlier. You must've forgotten to close the tab, leaving the video running.

The volume had been turned up far too loud, the sounds of slurping and moaning vibrating through your skull deafeningly. A woman on screen had her hair gripped hard in a fistful, the man above her sliding his thick length between her lips. The sounds were filthy, and so so loud. You gripped the sides of your face loosely in devastation.

This time, you stormed up to him furiously, lunging and making a grab for your phone. "Stop it!", you repeated, shrieking this time.

You missed the phone entirely as he lifted it higher. You seethed, teeth clenched in frustration as the sounds continued, except now they had increased exponentially. From the way the screen turned down at you, you could see the man lifting the woman's thighs over his shoulders before he--

You shook your head furiously, shame blooming deep within your chest as you roughly slapped a hand against his chest for leverage, trodding onto his boots on your tiptoes to try and make another grab for your phone.

The attempt was futile, art was so tall and his arms were so long that you could never reach it. Your body was pressed up against his own, stretching high to make even minor progress in retrieving your phone. You could feel your anger boiling, scowling as you reared an arm back and aimed a punch for his sternum.

Everything happened incredibly fast after that. Before you could make contact, your forearm was gripped hard, your body was spun and your arm was wrenched behind your back.

You yelped, back pressed firmly to his front. You jerked side to side rapidly, releasing a cry of frustration in your attempt to get out of his iron grip, but to no avail.

"Let me go right now!" You attempted to sound demanding and aggressive, but it came out whiny, your voice shaking. You could feel the clowns body vibrating with laughter behind you, hand so tight around your arm you couldn't move at all.

On any other day, when you and Art would undoubtedly get into situations like this due to his pestering, you had a far better chance of escaping because you were often angry.

But today, you felt..more vulnerable than anything. You felt so puny, so small and human and fragile. It was a dirty trick on his part, and it prevented your usual unnatural strength from bursting forth.

Well, even with that strength, you don't think you could truly win against Art anyway.

Tossing back and forth regardless, you huffed and cursed at him repeatedly, knees slightly bent from the way he held you tightly and put pressure on you.

"You're a fucking asshole!", you seethed, practically feeling the mirth roll off of him in waves at your predicament.

A strong hand wrapped it's way around your delicate jaw, holding firmly but not painfully. Your head was pushed upwards almost playfully, fingertips tickling the underside of your face.

You met your own scowling expression in the body length mirror that decorated your wardrobe doors. It was as long as the doors and just as wide, giving you a clear view of Arts smirking face hovering above you.

You took in your dishevelled complexion, hair a wild mess, face lightly perspiring and your long pyjama t shirt barely reaching just above your knee.

You were hunched slightly due to being immobilised, and the hand that cradled your jaw looked absolutely massive. It was big enough to crush your skull if he wanted to, big enough to easily smother your mouth and nose without actively trying to.

Your scowl had lessened considerably at this point, that vulnerable expression returning once more. From this view, you hadn't realised just how tall he was compared to you. He was lithe, but wearing that Santa costume made him fill out a little, appear wider.

On a normal day his size would swallow your stature whole, casting a shadow over you, but in that costume?

He looked huge.

The stark realisation of this, paired with the absurdly intimate way he had your back flush to his chest and his calloused hand wrapped around your jaw with a salacious smirk, forcing you to stare at him in the mirror - you couldn't help but flush.

You found that you couldn't look away, your head attempting to move only to have his grip tighten, his grin sharpening. He loomed above you like an evil blight, eyes dark and calculating.

The sounds of the video continued in the background, a particularly loud cry having drawn you out of your thoughts, and it caused you to flutter your eyes to the floor and away from his charcoal irises.

You couldn't deny the heat that began to flourish within you.

It only increased tenfold at the feeling of a firm hand slowly gliding it's way from your jaw, descending directly to your waist, then further to your hip, squeezing.

Your eyes widened, head snapping back up at the mirror in bewilderment. You were met with the sight of his rough hand caressing you, smiling all the while.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You spat rapidly in disbelief, words shaken and sounding far weaker than you would've liked.

He had never done this to you before. Art liked to cause pain, not..

Not this. Not any semblance of pleasure, of intimacy. Your lips opened in a quiet gasp, body tingling as the heat of his hand drew circles along your hipbone before delving lower.

You jerked in his grasp, flushing heavily at the sight of his hand gliding lower and lower until his fingers played with the hem of your t shirt.

"D-dont you dare!", you squeezed your thighs together, body squirming against him with struggle. He had long since released your numb arm, and instead opted for wrapping a long arm around your waist, your head resting against his chest as his daring hand gripped the fabric of your t shirt and teasingly went to lift it, only to stop, awaiting your reaction.

His shoulders began to move with glee, chest vibrating. Your reactions were priceless as you squirmed and attempted to back away from his hand, only to back further into his body.

This infuriated you, your flushed complexion displaying panic and bashfulness.

Those mischievous fingers danced along your thigh, lifting the fabric once again, higher this time, before dropping it. His expression held one of mock surprise, lips downturned neutrally and eyes wide, eyebrows lifted.

"Don't-- don't do that! I mean it!", you whined miserably, heat encompassing your body. It caused him to pause, eyes snapping from your almost exposed thighs to your pleading gaze.

That sharp, predatory grin returned. The heat of his hand squeezed your thigh and slipped under the fabric, tickling the edge of your underwear, fingers playing with the intricate, laced detail.

Your breath shuddered, eyes wide, and you unconsciously moved a hand to grip at his wrist. Whether to push him away or pull him in, you didn't know anymore; you felt overwhelmed, and the way your chest rose and fell rapidly portrayed that.

Art snickered, unwrapping himself from your body and taking a step back, his boots thumping. With a playful roll of his eyes, he held his hands up in mock surrender, as though to reassure you that it was all a harmless joke, and attempted to smile softly, innocently. It made him appear all the more sinister.

You spun around on your heel, taking a step back yourself as you scrutinised his display of surrender. It was uncharacteristic. Despite that, Art shook his hands exasperatedly in the air, sighing as though to say 'it was a joke, don't you believe me?'

You shook your head slowly, lost for words. You couldn't speak, throat dry and mind racing. You wanted to run away.

Art rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, before rolling them back to you dramatically, grin plastered on his face. At your retreat, he experimentally took a step forward, rather comical if not for the situation, and chuckled at your jittery self.

You furrowed your brows, not falling victim to this act anymore. You were going to kick his ass tomorrow, but for now you needed to retreat into the safety of your blanket, tail between your legs. "Get out.", you pointed towards the door sternly.

Arts eyes followed your finger to the door, before blinking over to you once more. His gaze swept over your form, head tilting in thought. He began to smirk.

Before you could react, Art leapt forward three steps, making you yelp and scramble backwards, narrowly missing falling over the edge of your bed as you backed your way towards the wall.

The clown snickered again, standing up tall and no longer doing that comical hunched appearance when he lunged at you. Now, he stood to his full height, back straight and stature big, before his boots thudded along your floor as he slowly advanced in a predatory fashion.

"I swear to God if you come near me--", you pressed yourself against the wall, watching his looming figure get taller and taller.

Your neck craned upwards, stare defiant as he hovered above. Heavy hands suddenly planted themselves violently either side of your head, crowding you in.

You flinched, blinking rapidly at the way he leaned down to become eye level with you. Your cheeks were pink again, eyes darting across his face for an answer to his weird behavior. What the hell was going on?

He was alluring, you thought, and it made thoughts race in your mind. Was he going to suddenly hurt you? Was he truly just playing? Was he actively flirting with you in his sick type of way? You had never fell this silent in front of him before. You needed to gain equal ground against this asshole.

"That's enough. What, are you interested in me now?", you scoffed, daring to lean forward into his space, face so close to his you could feel his silent breath; it was a front, you felt jittery even now, but you wouldn't allow him to mess with you any longer.

Art grinned, not at all reacting to your faux bout of confidence. He shrugged half-heartedly, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. It left you dumbstruck. What he did next made heat spread so unbelievably throughout your body.

You were so flustered your head felt heavy, and it only increased tenfold as your wrist was gripped in his big hand, fingers limp and relaxed, before he brought the digits you had touched yourself with to his lips and slid them in slow.

You shuddered, inhaling sharply at this display of intimacy. His grip was slack on your wrist, seeming to omit to the fact that you could escape if you really wanted to.

But you didn't want to. The thought didn't even cross your mind, and his eyes narrowed in a knowing sense of smugness at that.

Arousal swelled in your lower belly, pooling between your thighs as Arts tongue danced between the seam of your fingers, the ticklish feeling sending tingles through your nerves.

Art peered down at you, mouth full of your fingers, his grin turning nasty as he bit them lightly. Despite the clear threat that he could rip them out of the socket, your eyes remained lidded, pupils blown wide and hand lax as you let him caress you with his tongue and teeth. Crowded so close together against the wall, he could hear your heart beat thumping.

Dropping your wrist from his grip, Art reached down, bending at the knees to hook two hands below your thighs. You cried out as you were lifted high, legs resting in his grip.

He did this with ease, as though you were weightless. Sitting down on the bed, he adjusted you so you could sit on his lap, facing away from him. You could see yourselves in the mirror.

Art hooked his legs between your knees and spread them open. You wiggled against his hold, embarrassed at your exposure. Your black, lacy underwear was displayed, t shirt bunching up at your hips. You couldn't bring yourself to snap at him to stop fucking with you because..

Well, you were eager, far more eager than you thought. Had you always harboured this feeling towards the clown?

You were crimson faced, lips quivering as you tried to make your expression as neutral as possible; He had you on his lap like he was actually Santa, and you were the one telling him what you wanted for Christmas.

The thought had you lowering your head in bashfulness. No innocent Santa would have you spread and bared like this one.

The expression Art made in the mirror was one of mock surprise, eyebrows high and mouth forming like a circle. Before you could even ponder about it, a large hand was brought down to your inner thigh, fingers inching their way further in, caressing the sensitive area before cupping your clothed sex.

You held your breath, staring stubbornly back at him in the mirror. His hand was warm, and you couldn't help but shudder at the feel of his hand trailing upwards slowly, dancing over your clitoris briefly, then your mound, and up to the waistband of your underwear.

His fingers dipped below the waistband, gauging your reaction, but you refused to give one. Cocking an eyebrow in curiosity, you felt his hand descend, lower and lower, fingers gliding over your silken lips before delicately resting over your hole.

You flushed darkly, gritting your teeth as Art made an even more astounded expression, shaking his head slowly as though to admonish you for the mess between your legs. His fingertips rubbed circles in the lubrication oozing out of you, dipping in slightly but never far enough.

A small sound escaped your throat, barely audible, but loud enough for him. A slow, smug smirk stretched his face wide, and you could only huff defiantly. "I-- That's not because of you! I was like this before you rudely interrupted, remember?" You pouted.

Art rolled his eyes, nodding his head in quick succession with a look of mock belief at your words. He knew you were lying and so did you. Then, with a sly grin, two fingers glided upwards towards your slippery clit.

You gasped that time, quiet but still embarrassingly deafening to yourself, gripping the fabric of his forearm tightly.

A tingling sensation flooded your system, your body shifting and legs widening. He continued to massage the area, direct and blissful. You bit your lip, unwilling to let him see how much you enjoyed this.

Art chuckled, shaking his head at you with a nasty grin, eyebrows low and cynical. His dark eyes swirled chaotically, full of challenge and amusement and something else.

Hand descending further into your soaked underwear, two fingers dipped into your slit, thoroughly lubricating his calloused fingers.

Art paused, winking at you in the mirror. You attempted to glare back at him in the reflection, but you lacked the effort, and instead your eyebrows were drawn together softly, lips parting as two fingers slid into you to the knuckles, delving deep and curling sinfully against your greedy walls.

"Oh!", you moaned, hips lifting instinctively. Art began to thrust his fingers into you deep and hard, listening to the lewd squelching and how it seemed to fluster you terribly.

The feeling was intense; you hadn't been properly touched in so long, so to feel his thick, rough fingers curling rhythmically within your hot core, it made your nerve endings sing and your hips buck.

You gripped his arm hard, gasping, body fully resting against his own, head lolled back against his shoulder. Arts shoulders shook with laughter, terribly amused by the sight of you falling apart, but he wanted more from you. He wanted to break you, he wanted to make an unintelligible mess of you.

You were so prideful, you'd never live this down.

A fist gripped your hair roughly, tangling the locks before his fingers began to pummel into you expeditiously. It was too much, too fast, and you couldn't help but kick your legs uselessly, crying out.

"Ah, ahh-- Stop it, too much--", you whined, panting as the sounds of your wetness became loud, thighs drenched. You could see in the mirror the way his hand moved ferociously, molding the fabric of your underwear.

Your pleas made him speed up, thrusting so hard and so fast you wailed, thrashing upon his lap and dampening the fabric of his costume.

This was what you wanted, you thought heatedly. You wanted someone to render you immobile, shatter your mind. The view of his sinister smirk boring holes into you was alluring, head forced backwards with the grip in your hair. It made heat prickle along your spine.

Your hips began to move with his fingers, desperately seeking more, any semblance of pride vanishing as you chased your high. Your constant grinding made you feel the thick, long length pressing up against your ass, and you couldn't help but moan wantonly, pushing yourself into it with need.

His hand was drenched in your fluids, and it made him snicker. If this was you now, imagine you later when he forced you to take his cock.

Suddenly, your underwear was torn off of you, exposing the image of his large hand going in and out, curling, and thrusting deeply. The visual was arousing, your eyes half mast and dilated.

His palm lifted suddenly and jerked back down with a quick, firm slap. You jolted, wincing at the sting it caused, but before you had a chance to return back to contentedness, it struck again.

Those sinful digits eased their way out of you, smoothing up the length of your puffy labia, cupping it soothingly. You sighed, panting lightly, body relaxed and pliant.

His hand was hot and it made you feel content.

This time, it was sharper, and you gasped, scrambling to sit up but being forced to remain where you were as an iron grip wrapped it's way around your midsection.

Again, that firm hand slapped your sensitive folds, and you whined miserably at the pain and pleasure it caused.

Your lips were beginning to darken red from his assault, and yet you were still undeniably wet from his ministrations.

Your legs began quivering from the overstimulation, and you drew them together, trapping his hand. He seemed to let you, tilting his head with a quirk of his lips.

"S-stop tormenting me. Can't take it, not today. Please, just..", you paused, gnawing at your lip; you didn't want to admit to him what you really needed.

Art blinked rapidly, almost innocently down at you. He held a cupped hand to his ear, his other hand waving for you to continue, as though to usher you to speak the words he knows you're going to struggle to admit.

You pouted petulantly, eyes sparkling with unshed tears from frustration and the light stinging of your folds. Your peak had been building, only to be abruptly halted.

"No," you groaned weakly, "don't make me say it, you asshole." Your words lacked any real ire, and instead sounded exhausted. You were so pent up, so desperate at this point. As soon as the offence left your lips, two fingers began circling around your clit, refusing to touch directly. Art all but smiled at you patiently, face splitting with glee.

You sighed softly at the soothing pleasure, head lolling back against his shoulder. It felt so good, and you tried to buck your hips to make his fingers slip over your clit, but to no avail.

This caused you to release a frustrated whimper, feebly bucking your hips again, but this time Art stopped his stroking altogether, fingers hovering above the area you needed them most.

"No, I-I'm sorry!", you rushed out insincerely, desperate for his touch. You could feel tears dancing along your lash line, threatening to spill pathetically.

"Don't stop. I.. I need this so badly. Please.", you relented, biting your lip nervously, eyes fluttering to the floor in shame. You felt that familiar vibration; he was laughing at you.

Even still, the clown did deliberate. On one hand, he could continue tormenting you. That would be fun, and it was the initial plan, but even he couldn't deny his mortal desires. He had a strong threshold for such matters; he wasn't often interested enough.

If anything, he never paid enough attention to whether it was a man or a woman that he was maiming. That only goes to prove how disinterested he was in the whole affair of carnality.

This situation was unique, however. He was bound to a human he had once killed, who had just as miraculously as him managed to rise from the dead, and was stuck with you for ever. And, you are a woman. He couldn't damage you terribly, and he couldn't kill you. What better way to make you submit to him than by fucking your prideful, spiteful, hot-headed little self into the bed?

You were so easy to aggravate, spitting venomous insults and screeching in anger at him. That was all well and good, but he wanted to see the look on your face when he pummelled you dumb.

If death was out of the question, then immobilising you with his own body would have to do.

Gripping your waist tightly, Art maneuvered your body with ease, spinning you in his lap until both your thighs sat either side of him. A hand held your lower back firmly against his body, standing up halfway to tug down the bottoms of his Santa costume. They fell to his knees, and he promptly sat back down, grinning.

You hovered over his thick length, flushing red in anticipation. Hands finding leverage upon his shoulders, you let your wet lips rest against the tip, shivering as you did.

He felt big. You hadn't really managed to look at it, but from the feeling you knew he was going to split you open.

He seemed to be barely touching you, grinning cheekily as he awaited your next move. His cooperation made you uneasy, you wondered what he had planned.

The thought disappeared swiftly as you bared your hips down onto him, letting the tip nudge past your swollen lips, sinking in an inch or two.

You inhaled sharply, feeling the beginning of his girth and pausing in your descent. "I-I haven't done this in a while and you feel--mmm-," you bit your lip, sinking down a further inch, your insides pulsating and stinging.

You squeezed him tightly, walls rippling and attempting to mold to his shape. You gasped again, lips parting in surprise as you lowered slowly, delicately, his size stretching you.

You gripped his shoulders, fabric bunching up in your hands. Your thighs were shaking from the effort it took to descend patiently. Even with how wet you were, his hot length dragged against your insides, another inch being enveloped in your tight heat.

"Nng, its--so big", you breathed shakily, eyes glistening again. Art observed your pained expression in awe, smirking and winking at your compliment.

Two hands held your hips tightly, fingers digging in to the delicate flesh. You sighed delightedly at the contact, not at all preparing yourself for the sinister spark in the clowns eyes, before he slammed your hips down into his forcefully, tearing through you and settling within you to the hilt.

You cried out woefully, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as a pained sob was wrought from you. He could feel you shaking against him, panting against his ear, and couldn't help but chuckle nastily at your pain.

"W-wait, I need to adjust--", you began softly, voice quivering, but was given no time as Art lifted you up to the tip then dropped you back down. Your soft ass slapped against his lap, a horrible pain mixing with pleasure inside of you.

"It hurts! You're too big--!", you whined pitifully, tears dripping from your eyelashes. You gripped around his neck hard, body contorting in pain, shallow breaths hitting his ear.

Art knew this. You were so tight he had to grit his teeth, but he revelled in the concoction of pleasure and pain that wracked your body. You were too weak to fight him, trying to lift yourself off of him only to collapse back down, crying out as he filled you again. He could feel your tears soaking into his costume, and it made his cock fill with blood.

You were so full, the stinging sensation unbearable, and as he lifted you again, dragging your sodden hole off of him, he thrust up into you, letting your hips drop as he met you halfway and slid in.

A surprised moan was torn from your lips, a boiling heat enveloping your body as pleasure tingled and spread throughout your nerves. Art enjoyed your pitiful, pained cries, but he knew that the pain began to melt away as your breathing went from shallow, pained pants to breathy exhales.

The stinging became a dull sensation in the background, your insides igniting blissfully as those strong hands lifted you up once more, sliding all the way out before filling you up rhythmically.

"Mmm, Oh-", you moaned breathily, lips permanently parted. You no longer contorted your body awkwardly and instead began to melt against him, curling about his form needily.

Your hips began to take control, moving up and down his rock hard length, eyes closed against his shoulder as he emptied you and filled you over and over, thrusting up to meet your downward motions hard, filling you deep.

"Yes--Oh--", you couldn't stop the noises tumbling out. He wasn't even doing much, merely meeting your thrusts, but he was so big and long and thick and mouthwatering-

"Need more", you whined weakly, nuzzling your face against his neck, the fur of his Santa costume tickling your nose. "Please.", you added softly, thighs shaking so badly you didn't have the energy to lift yourself up fully.

Instead, you lifted your hips half heartedly, attempting to at least try, feeling that over whelming pleasure every time he thrusted upwards into you.

Each downward pull made you needy, and each thrust had you seeing stars. You could feel the grin on his face beside your cheek, body moving with silent chuckles. You were so responsive, feeling those big hands trail from your hips and down to your soft globes, pulling the cheeks apart.

You could feel your hole opening, feel his rigid length sinking in even deeper. You realised that he could probably see himself driving into you from the mirror reflection, your sopping core on full display as it sucked him in greedily.

You peered over your shoulder curiously, lidded eyes honing in on the mirror. The erotic visual had you writhing in his grasp, gnawing at your lip as he stared right back at you, lifting a hand to wiggle his fingers at you.

It was weirdly humiliating, but before you could turn away to nuzzle back into his neck and hide, his hand was brought down sharply in a loud slap upon one of your round cheeks.

You gasped, lips parting as your gaze remained frozen on his slowly retreating hand, waiting with bated breath, before it bared down upon your jiggling flesh again, and again, and again.

Your body jerked each time, a gasp escaping upon each impact, but your eyes couldn't leave the sight behind you, infinitely aroused at how displayed you were, at how massive he looked below you.

Art soothed the red handprints on your cheek with a gentle rub, looking at you in the mirror with mock concern, lips pouting out at you as though you were the cutest little thing.

You couldn't handle the embarrassment any longer, and turned back around to wrap your arms around his neck, thighs giving out below you. Two hands returned to your ass again, before gliding up into you faster this time, one thrust after another, drawing longer moans out of you.

The increase in pace made you writhe upon his lap, mewling in delight. You let yourself be manhandled, swiftly reaching down to grip two hands at the bottom of your t shirt and rip it over your head.

Your breasts bounced free, nipples teased against his body with each thrust, igniting a white hot sensation directly to your clitoris. You moaned a lot deeper this time, mouth below his ear, gasping and mumbling pleas.

Art reached a fist into your locks and wrenched your head back, hearing you wince and watching the sultry way you bit your lip at his rough actions.

You finally made eye contact with him, face to face, your complexion a dark pink. You put up no fight against his hold, even as he wrapped his fist tighter and pulled your head back hard. Your neck was bared, and you watched those charcoal eyes drop smoulderingly to your jiggling breasts.

His teeth attached themselves to your neck, biting and caressing the column of your throat, before finding an appropriate area and sinking his teeth in hard.

You cried out noisily, the sound pleasurable but stunted by pain, sounding more like a yelp. The harder he bit, the faster he fucked you, and you were soon delirious on the pain and pleasure, feeling his teeth latch on harder and harder until warm liquid oozed from the puncture of your skin.

Tears dripped from your eyes, cascading down your cheeks as you hiccupped and sobbed, your neck pulsating painfully. You didn't fight him, so caught up in the way he split you open.

The demonic clown paused, drawing back from your bruised and swollen neck, eyes flickering from the blood trickling down to your collar bone, and all the way up to your sparkling eyes, tears streaking your cheeks.

You winced, hair still wrenched back, moaning weakly at the pain, your breathing turning shallow again.

A hand cradled your jaw, thumb wiping a stray tear, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into the warm palm, comforting and big. It wasn't often he got to see your tears. The sight made him want to make you cry more, spill those fat droplets from your eyes.

Art tilted his head a fraction, inquisitive at your display of affection. You seemed to latch onto him, needing to be touched, gripping at him and melting against him. It was a far cry from your usual self.

His fingers moved down to the puncture wounds on your neck, pressing onto the tender flesh and making more tears spring from your eyes. It felt bruised and the skin was beginning to rise.

Blood dripped down your neck, and he used two fingers to swipe a clean line up your neck, coating his fingertips in the red substance.

Your eyes honed in on his crimson fingers, alight with need. Art tilted his head the other way, deciphering, and burned his gaze through your intimate display as you gripped at his hand and brought his fingers to your lips.

You suckled the tips, cleaning the crimson off of him, before taking his fingers into the back of your mouth, lathering them slowly.

Your own fingers dipped into the wound, wetting the digits red, before you hesitantly brought them towards his lips. His thrusting slowed, eyebrows lifting minimally, a shard of surprise running through him at your carnality. Your blood was alluring enough to halt his ministrations.

Finally, that dangerous mouth opened, slowly enveloping your smaller digits, tongue curling around them sinfully.

Your stare was unwavering, blinking from his mouth to his eyes before settling on those wretched depths. They swallowed you whole, scrutinizing your own visage. His smiling had long since ceased, a stern neutrality overcoming him even as you drew your fingers back and wrapped your arms around his neck to press your bloodied lips onto his.

The urge overcame you, tongues battling against one another messily. The remnants of your blood mixed between your lips, a soft moan of delight escaping you.

You never thought you'd be kissing this maniac. It sent heat coursing through you, borderline delirious from the feel of being so wrapped up in a being that was so dangerous.

Your passion resumed, hips lifting enough to feel the drag of his dick in your tight heat, before gliding back down with a light slap of your ass against his lap.

You were so wet it began to lather your inner thighs, dripping down your legs and coating his balls.

Your desire began to reignite, no longer a simmering heat and instead increasing to a boiling wave that overcame you. You grinded your hips, breaking your lips apart to gasp at his depth.

Art became watchful of your eager display, letting you pleasure yourself with his body. You leaned back, arms around his neck and extended straight so that you still had some leverage, and moaned wantonly as your position changed and his cock began to stimulate that lovable spot deep within you.

"Oh fuck--mmm--", your head lolled back, tits bouncing rhythmically as you increased your pace. You could barely hold your moans in now, overwhelmed by the pleasure of his length hitting you just right.

Art recognized the increase in your pitch and the way your body moved desperately upon his, and grinned. He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, gripping handfuls of your jiggling ass and beginning to meet your movements with his own, fucking up into you hard.

"Yes, right there, oh my god-", your legs were no longer folded below you, resting back on your knees. You had swiftly moved them, sitting fully into his lap now with your legs extended either side of his waist. This added even more depth to his movements. You could no longer grind your body against his, simply taking whatever he gave you.

"It's so deep, oh-" you began to quiver, needing so much more,  but all he could do was smirk down at you amicably, as calm as ever, watching you fall apart as each thrust directly pummelled into that spot.

You felt like ripping your hair out in frustration, body squirming upon his own in distress. Each thrust was like a shot of an addictive drug, filing you up and making you feel so high, but you needed that unrepressed carnality that you craved.

Shaking your head with a pinched expression of dismay, you leaned forward to wrap your arms fully around his neck once again, head resting on his shoulder as you whimpered.

His rigid length bruised against your cervix, hands on your hips and holding you down just to get that inch deeper. You were shaking, exhaling little 'ohh's into his neck, eyes squeezed shut.

"Don't care anymore; Need it harder", you whined pathetically, warming his neck with your hot breath; you were starting to crack. "Please fuck me. Need you so bad. Making me feel so fucking good-Oh--"

Your waist was gripped in a bruising force, lifting your body up and down like a pliant doll, fucking you vigorously. Your sweet admittance sent a thrill through his body, so he supposed out of the kindness of his heart, he could cease his teasing. For now.

Art gave you a lascivious smirk, eyes twinkling mysteriously. With a slight shrug and a nod, he seemed to silently agree with himself that it was time to get serious.

The world around you blurred as you were thrown onto the bed, hips forced into position. Your body bared itself on hands and knees and you tentatively peered upwards towards the mirror, fists clenching into the quilt in anticipation.

You watched the large, looming clown settle behind you, swallowing your body whole. With a playful wave at your watchful gaze, Art thrust forward and buried himself within you.

Your breath escaped your lungs in a silent gasp, body lurching forward from the force as he held you in place and began fucking you deep and fast.

He didn't tease you this time. Everything that had happened previously had been leading up to this moment, and it was mind shattering.

Repetitive 'uh's and 'ohh's sprung from you at each thrust, his cock splitting you open well and good just like you've craved for so long. He felt massive in this position, your velvety insides hot and tighter.

Gliding out until the tip, he'd push back in smoothly, coated in your arousal. It drove you wild, the lewd smacking of skin and wet squelching that increased more and more as he drove in faster, harder.

Your knuckles were white from how hard you gripped the bedding, unintelligible praises falling from your lips at the way he made you feel.

" 'm so full, oh my god-", you cried almost lovingly at the sublime feeling of him tearing through your snug heat, near enough bruising your cervix.

With a cynical pout down at you, mockingly awed by your kind praises of his ample size, Art reached forward to grab a fistful of your hair, wrenching your body backwards so your back bowed enticingly. It made your ass look rounder, made it jiggle and ripple more against his unrelenting thrusts. It hypnotized him, his cock rock hard.

Your upper body was suspended by the hand in your hair, and you could now clearly see how ravaged you looked in the mirror. The looming Santa behind you dwarfed your figure, all jagged smile and wiggling eyebrows at your pleasured expression.

Your tits bounced prettily in the reflection, witnessing the way his normally piercing gaze faltered and darted down to the erotic scene, before darting back up to your face. His smirk appeared lascivious at being caught, and he gave a comical, light shrug.

For some reason, an infernal fire roared within you at that; This creature was evidently attracted to your feminine form. It made you moan louder, reaching forward to play with your round globes teasingly, jiggling them with your incessant fondling, biting your lip at him in the mirror.

You were becoming feral for him.

Art cocked an eyebrow, head tilted in rampant interest at your display. That same jagged smile returned, and almost as a reward, he leaned forward and circled two calloused fingers over your sensitive clit.

Your reaction was instantaneous, legs shaking and body jerking at the intense pleasure. It made you nearly collapse forward if not for the grip in your hair, his cock still relentlessly spearing you.

"Fuck, just like that, ohh--", you cried blissfully, shuddering. Arts expression appeared sternly concentrated on your exclamations and the way your body sucked him in greedily. His thunderous expression was terrifying, but it only served to increase the heat within you tenfold, your body pliant and melting into his ministrations.

He shattered your equanimity, your mind turning to mush and only thinking of his thick hands and his fat cock-

Your thighs were violently quivering, struggling to not collapse. Your moans increased in pitch, high and breathless and weak.

" 'M so close, your cock feels so fucking good and I'm going to cum, im--ohh!"

Your body was roughly dropped, a violent hand forcing you into the bed. Your ass remained high while your cheek laid itself upon the blankets, face contorting in mindless, pleasurable relief as those murderous hands gripped at your hips and began fucking into you so expeditiously you wailed.

His heavy balls slapped your clit with each filling thrust, teasing the bundle of nerves to the point your knees began to quake, on the brink of collapse.

"Fuck, fuck!", you shrieked in repetitive succession, breathing erratically as his thick, long, veiny cock fucked you so good that you just burst-

Your knees did collapse this time, but firm hands kept your hips situated perfectly to receive his godly pistoning. With a high, keening noise you didn't know you could ever make, so desperate and whorish, your pussy contracted and gushed.

Your thighs were soaked and dripping, your bedding ruined. You could feel the way his grip tightened bruisingly on your hips at the feeling of your insides pulsating steadily, milking him, demanding he fill you up like you craved.

Your self consciousness and any semblance of pride were shattered into a million pieces at the mind numbing euphoria you felt. It enveloped your entire body in a blanket and made you feel like you were floating. Your insides fluttered intensely making your breathing erratic and short.

Your face was forced even further into the bed as you reached two arms back, planting a hand on either side of your round cheeks.

With a flushed, fucked out visage staring back at Art from the way your face was turned on its side, you spread your enticing cheeks apart, moaning. "Need you to fucking fill me, need you to fuck me so full please please-"

Art couldn't deny the intense arousal that shot through his body and engorged his cock unnaturally further. Your dainty fingers spread your cheeks so far apart he could see the way your hole split around his length, the muscles parting forcefully at his intrusion. Your virgin, tight puckered hole caught his attention the most, and he moved a thumb to rub the area tenderly, a promise that he'd make you scream yourself hoarse the day he managed to fit his cock into that narrow passage.

You'd cry, he'd make sure of it, and the thought and the visual in front of him was enough to have him seizing your hips so strongly that they would bruise, fucking you brutally and hearing your sobs of pain and pleasure, before his hips stuttered once, twice against your cervix and a flood of hot, ropey squirts painted your insides.

He filled you so deeply it made your body think it needed to pee, if only to expel the amount of cum within you. It was unnatural, but he wasn't a mortal. If anything, the absurd amount made you melt dreamily into the bed, thoroughly fucked and bred and satiated for the time being.

You felt the clown retrieve himself, sliding out with a lewd squelch. Your hole gaped and quivered, his cum oozing out of you messily and coating your thighs. You moaned pleasantly at the feeling of two fingers scooping out the sloppy mess, coating his fingers with it before pushing them into your mouth. You accepted the gift, a noise of delight escaping you.

It made you want to suck his cock and have him fill your mouth until you choked. The thought was arousing, clitoris pulsating lightly as you reached down and rubbed it in lazy circles.

His body moved behind you, two hands gripping your ass cheeks before a hot, long tongue nudged your fingers aside and lapped at your clit. You moaned wantonly, pushing your hips back into his ministrations, feeling that heat invade your abdomen again, signalling another orgasm.

"Oh God, fuck, your tongue feels so-feels so--", you cried out as two fingers sunk into you to the knuckles, pushing the sloppy cum back into your hole dirtily, all the while his tongue lapped at and lathered your clitoris, licking broad, rough stripes up the bundle of nerves until you were a whining mess.

"Fuck, fuuuck, don't know if I want your tongue or your cock more, mmm-"

Art chuckled into your sodden pussy, eyebrows low and sinister. You were shameless, your pleasure ridden brain void of anything else other than the need to be fucked dumb.

A high pitched cry of pleasure tore him out of his condescending thoughts about you, his mouth drenched in your splattering orgasm. His fingers curled within you, brutally fondling that area that had you outright weeping into the pillows.

Little 'too much!'s and 'stop!'s were cried out to him desperately, your body convulsing as though you were possessed. Wiping his mouth, Art sat back and admired his work.

You were panting, pleading in a high pitched, pathetic tone. Your body was overwhelmed, tired and bruised, and Art sat back on his knees and thought for a moment, hand to his chin.

His eyes rolled up to the ceiling in brief contemplation, and then he shrugged, situating himself behind you again.

You whimpered at the feeling of him forcing his sturdy cock into your puffy walls once more. The sound you made was strangled and weak, drool dripping down your chin shamelessly, body losing function of itself. You were crying openly, brought deeper and deeper into a submissive sort of headspace.

He grinned sharply, his cock hardening at the sight of your pathetic state. He bet he could make your body lose all inhibition and piss itself. You'd be so ashamed, and he'd make you lick the liquid off of his cock; a good girl for Santa.

He began to fuck you, patting your messy hair adoringly. You whimpered and wailed, pleading for more, pleading for less. But he found that he wasn't finished with you just yet. You wanted this, didn't you? You told him so yourself.

With a comforting stroke of your hair, Art smiled mockingly down at you, pouting his lips out at your cuteness. He couldn't go back on his word; he was going to fuck you until you couldn't walk.

Thrusting into you, your mouth opened in unbridled pleasure.

The comforting stroke of your hair turned sinister, gripping a fistful up to the root.

Your pretty, wet eyes stared back at him over your shoulder, lips quivering.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Epilogue

You had fallen unconscious. He had drawn orgasm after orgasm out of you to the point that you begged him to stop, crying so much that you couldn't breathe. Art adored your tears, awed and fascinated by them. The only reprieve you were given was your exhausted, slumped body falling soundly asleep. It was exquisitely blissful, but too much to bear.

You awoke with a weak groan, pushing yourself up to a seated position. You were naked in the blankets, but Art seemed to have the decency to clean you up slightly, your inner thighs dry and not at all the mess that they were a few hours prior. That was oddly sweet of him. And unexpected.

You wrapped a dressing gown around your body, wincing as you stood on shaky legs. Your insides felt battered and bruised, your hips dark with fingerprints. Making your way downstairs, your eyes were sleepy and lidded as you switched the kettle on to make yourself a coffee.

You had a moment of peace to yourself, or so you thought.

In came strolling that demonic clown, looking as fresh as a daisy and wide awake as he bounced preppily over to you, plonking his cup down beside yours in a silent request that he, too, wanted something hot to drink. Preferably hot chocolate.

He no longer adorned his Santa costume, instead dressed as he usually was in that monochromatic suit, face paint as immaculate as ever. He smiled down at you dazzlingly, or as brightly as a demonic entity could, patting your head like you were a golden retriever before grabbing the hot chocolate that you had barely stirred with your spoon and taking a seat at the table, newspaper in hand.

You eyed him warily, exhausted, and felt a small amount of embarrassment flourish within you at how normal he was acting and how drained you felt and looked and..

Not to mention the memories of last night either. You promptly locked them away in a box and threw away the key for now.

You reached up to grab a box of cereal from the shelf and sighed. You couldn't be bothered to eat right now, even though your stomach was grumbling noisily.

What you didn't expect was for a white hand to flash in your peripheral, grabbing it for you, before gripping your hips and spinning you to face him.

The pressure on your hips made you visibly wince, and Arts expression turned to one of shock, mouth an 'o' and eyebrows high. You frowned weakly at him before pushing his hands off of you with barely any effort behind it.

"Hurts." You pouted up at him, shaking your head lightly. You felt so weak, you really needed to replenish yourself and eat something.

Art cooed down at you, pinching your cheek lightly. You scowled now and moved away from him, thoroughly drained. He could sense that your usual fire had been doused at the moment, and held a finger up to represent a lightbulb moment.

Before you could contemplate it, you were picked up bridally and sped into the living room, making you squeal and giggle breathily. Art dumped you onto the settee, turning the TV on and putting on a horror film.

He jumped beside you, blanket covering both yours and his legs, and you couldn't help but smile dreamily at him.

He fucked you good and hard last night, and now wants to watch one of your favourite horror movies? What a gentleman. Art deadpanned at your bizarre expression, clicking his fingers in front of your eyes to snap you out of it. You only smiled wider, eyes crinkling.

"You know, you're sooo sweet when you want to be."

Art comically guffawed at your admittance, shaking his head swiftly to deny such a thing, lifting a finger to the side of his head and twirling it in a clockwise motion to signify you were crazy for ever thinking something like that.

The overly dramatic, rare expression had you giggling again, soft and sweet. Art rolled his eyes at you, waving you off as though to say 'yeah, okay, don't get used to it'.

Seeing this as a prime opportunity to tease, you were swiftly silenced as a slice of cake was shoved into your mouth. You don't know..where he got that, but he was a clown, after all, and it tasted edible.

Sighing contentedly, you chewed the sweet treat slowly, watching as the scene on TV displayed a possessed woman in the shower, scorching water melting her skin as she carved her mouth apart with glass.

You loved this movie, and Art seemed intrigued, cackling silently beside you. Wrapped up in the blanket, you leaned against him comfortably, and he seemed unperturbed by it, eyes honed in on the screen.

You don't know why he was being so gentle with you. Art never did things unless he wanted to, and that was enough of an answer for you; he simply wanted to act this way right now. Even still, it made you feel warm, and you supposed living eternally together wouldn't be so bad.

Well, that was until you fell asleep, awoken by the chill of having your thighs spread apart and cake smeared all over your puffy, abused folds.

"Art! What the hell are you doing?! I told you I'm in pain--"

Art chuckled evilly, leaning down to lick a gentle stripe up your icing covered lips, savouring the sweet taste.

Your breath hitched, but you still held your hands against his shoulders, faced etched with nervousness. "P-please don't. Can't..can't handle it right now."

Art tilted his head a fraction, staring up at you in awe. You had retracted to that submissive headspace again, and he found that he relished it. Repressing a cheeky grin, Art held his hands up placatingly, schooling his expression to one of neutrality, or rather barely masked amusement, and used his finger to draw an imaginary X over his heart.

"You mean you won't..be too much? Really? I'm having a hard time trusting you, you're literally grinning at me right now..." You huffed, expression incredibly wary.

Art covered his mouth with the back of his hand, teeth clenched as he grinned and laughed. Even still, he coughed once, face falling flat to prove he was.. moderately serious about being gentle with you.

In truth, he just wanted to eat your juicy pussy and hear you moan his name again. He bet he could get you to ask him nicely to fuck you.

For added effect, Art splayed his wide hands on your thighs and tickled the skin with either thumb, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh. Again, you had that dopey, dreamy expression on your face, and he began to think he really did damage your mind last night.

"Fine, just..be gentle, okay? I'm in no mood to quarrel today."

Art shrugged lightly. He kind of felt the same. It was refreshing hearing your soft voice instead of your screeching one of anger, or seeing your fluttering eyes at him rather than your stone cold ones.

Who knew that fucking you silly would make you so tame, so pliant. It was rather funny. Guess it proves that all you needed was a bit of dick to calm you down.

And Art was feeling surprisingly generous today. With a quirk of his lips, he settled between your thighs and placed them onto his shoulders.

Tongue darting out to lick up from your hole to your clitoris, he lathered the nub gently, lowering his lips to suckle it.

You gasped softly, widening your legs for him and biting your lip. The pleasure was instant, a heat boiling in your abdomen and fluttering down to your toes.

He was good at playing the part of devoted and gentle, and gripped at your hand delicately, lacing his fingers with your own in an intimate display. He watched you blush a pretty pink, mouth parting in awe at his uncharacteristic tenderness.

As you stared into his smouldering eyes, he smothered your clit beautifully, making you moan and buck your hips up into him.

He knew the moment your moans turned deep and sultry as he prodded a finger at your entrance, that you'd soon be backtracing your words and pleading with pouty lips that he fuck you gently.

There was an undeniable connection between you both; you were bound, after all, and even he wasn't immune to the effects of it. He'd still aggravate you, and absolutely wreak havoc on your wanting body, but he also rather enjoyed the peaceful tenderness of these moments, save for your breathy moans and the sounds of someone dying on the TV.

It made him feel peculiarly content. With a smirk into your sodden folds, Art thrust a finger into you deeply, standing between borderline pleasurable and 'too much', as you had said.

You had yet to berate him, he noted.

Within a few minutes, you were a mess down there, soaked and sticky with cake. He remained true to his word, not at all being rough, and instead holding you delicately in warm hands as he sucked and licked at your glistening folds.

"Art, it's the best part of the movie- Ah--"

He rolled his eyes at you, though did spare a single glance at the screen when he heard the sound of a chainsaw.

In no time, you were panting and reaching your peak, soft cry breathed into the air as his fingers curled and pumped into you, tongue massaging your clit. You gushed down his wrist, quivering.

Art smiled innocently up at your flustered self, imitating dabbing his mouth clean with a napkin. He jumped up and sprung beside you once more, pulling you into his sturdy lap and leaning back comfortably.

His eyes didn't leave the screen, fully focused.

You shifted, wiggling to get comfortable and felt his hard dick pressing against you. You bit your lip and glanced at him guiltily - you had just proclaimed that you were in pain today, and now you were having thoughts of him fucking you?

You settled back against him, flushed and buzzing with arousal. The film was almost over. Art grinned behind you, eyes ablaze with mischief. He knew what you wanted, but like you said, he was missing the best part of the movie.

Maybe if you're lucky, he'll fuck you later. But for now, you'd sit tiredly spent against his chest, chuckling at the brutal massacres on screen. More cake miraculously appeared, which always helped. It was pressed against your lips forcefully and you were more than happy to take it, humming in delight.

"Who'd have thought that you killing me all those years ago would evolve into this.", you smirked at him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "You're actually really cute. No idea how I never noticed it before." Your girlish expression lit up your face, eyes sparkling.

Art looked exasperated at your comment and shrugged. He smiled cheekily, pointing at himself as if to bashfully say "who, me?"

Your giggles rung throughout your home, his silent laughter making your body move. You felt a sense of contentment - a partner in crime to maim people with and to fuck you dumb.

Your eyes swirled black, corrupt and tainted, and promptly shut sleepily.

What could be better than this?

i need him so bad. this is pure smut. i made an epilogue to add fluffy things but it turned into smut 💀

also this isn't related to sporadic contingency at all, its just a standalone fic x

[maximoff-pan]

the ultimate deception | benedict bridgerton (part one)

summary: you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. What happens when Lady Whistledown comes to know of your identity? How will your relationship with Benedict evolve?

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!(artist)reader

word count: 4k

warning(s): poor writing and dialogue (sue me, I'm rusty lol), very unedited so if there are mistakes, I apologize, misogyny, penelope aka Lady Whistledown's biggest defender

a/n: this is definitely going to be more than one part, but I wanted to post something after so many months. Let me know how you like it (or don't like it haha)...comments and feedback are much appreciated <3

• • • • • •

“I wish I possessed merely an ounce of your talent.” 

Benedict’s gaze seems to be wholly absorbing your latest painting, a depiction of the botanical wonders of London’s Royal Kew Gardens. 

You puff out a breath, blowing on the feathery end of one of your writing quills. In your haste, it had gotten loose, tickling your face irritatingly. Tucking it back behind your ear, you wave him off. “You have much more talent than you give yourself credit for.” You admit through squinted eyes, scanning your work. “You simply lack conviction. And you worry far too much about what others think of you.”

Benedict smiles, receiving your words as the highest of praise. He reaches out to take a better look at the piece of art before him. “You flatter me.” He mumbles in awe. “But I suppose there’s a chance you could be right.”

Chuckling at his words, you grin knowingly. You’re right. It’s more than a chance…you just are. He knows it too. 

You both continue to steadily eye the painting, you out of critical evaluation of your work, and him in sheer admiration of it. 

Benedict’s favourite part remains the beautifully bloomed magnolias that are scattered across the canvas. He’d been sure to tell you numerous times of their elegance while you’d been working on it, eagerly awaiting the finished product. As you’ve come to realize, Benedict loves watching you work. It’s one of the prices you’ve had to pay for his allowance of your workstation being at Bridgerton House, if you could even call it that.  

You are grateful, truly. You wouldn’t be able to make your own living without his kindness. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to keep to yourself in the way you prefer to. 

“When will Augustus Leighton be displaying his latest work of perfection?” Benedict’s question reminds you of your fate as an artist. 

Augustus Leighton is the pseudonym you paint under. Using his name, you have become a well known artist among the ton, even going so far as to have a painting hung at Buckingham Palace. It’s difficult, you must admit, pretending to be someone else. But it’s a necessary evil.

Painting as a woman would get you nowhere. Especially as a woman with no money (particularly at the time you began), no status, and no husband. 

Your mother is a seamstress with little to her name and your father was a servant to Violet and Edmund Bridgerton, before his heart became too weak. He passed away when you were thirteen, only a few years after the Bridgerton children had lost their own father. You’d grown up with little money, but Violet had been kind to both you and your mother, seeing how close you’d become with her children. 

You were raised alongside them, Benedict and Eloise becoming your closest of friends. At three and twenty, there are five years between you and the two siblings in either direction, with Eloise being freshly eighteen, and Benedict having turned twenty eight. To this day, they remain two of only three people who know of your true identity, outside of Penelope Featherington. 

You hadn’t exactly meant for Eloise or Penelope to find out about it, but once they had, it became comforting to have more than just Benedict to speak to about your predicament. Especially considering, although Benedict has been wonderfully supportive, he could never understand the struggle a woman must endure in a male dominated world.  

“Likely never. This one is a gift for Lady Danbury.” You answer Benedict’s inquiry after a bout of silence. “She’s spoken about her love of these gardens quite regularly, so I thought, why not have Mr. Leighton recreate it for her?” 

“How will you get it to her?” He questions. 

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I have my ways, lest you worry about it.”

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The next few days are interesting to say the least. You’d somehow managed to get the painting delivered to Lady Danbury, and as far as Violet had been willing to speak of her latest visit with the formidable aforementioned woman, you have been made aware that she adores it. 

You’d also heard more about it from Benedict, who’d mentioned something about her being at a loss for words, an ultimate shock to both him and his mother. They’d never seen her look so bewildered. 

According to Eloise, Lady Danbury had been surprised to receive such a gift, especially of something so near and dear to her heart. She’d said it reminded her of her time with the Queen, telling the young Bridgerton woman about the months just after her husband had passed, when a new independent lifestyle began to bloom for her. 

The painting itself reminded her that women like her could be free, and one day, they would be. That sort of metaphorical mindset had definitely appealed to Eloise’s sense of social justice. She’d been more than excited to tell you about the older woman’s reaction to your art, claiming it to be a wonderful revelation. 

Today though, as you sit in the Bridgerton’s common living room, the opposite representation of said female autonomy rests in your hands. The paper feels rough against your skin as you pass it to Eloise who’s propped excitedly to the left of you. You’ve never been a fan of Lady Whistledown’s gossip column, although you can admire her unabashed confidence. But despite her strong will as an author, which could be seen as an inherently empowering trait, you are of the impression that she goes about it in an entirely backward way. 

Women don’t need to put each other down to build themselves up. It accomplishes nothing, consequently acting as a source of nourishment for the patriarchy you find yourself trapped in. 

“You’re not going to read it?” Eloise asks as she takes the pamphlet from you. 

“I never do.” Is your instant reply. 

Penelope perks up at the mention of the column, eyes trained curiously on you. If you had known better, you’d say she was a little too interested. 

But at this moment you shrug it off, listening with no suspicion as she asks a simple, “Why?”

You don’t have the hindsight to understand why your stomach turns at her question, but you respond anyway. “I tend to think of Lady Whistledown as a poison.” It’s the first time you’ve voiced such an opinion. 

Penelope and Eloise turn to you in surprise. “Come again?” Penelope’s soft voice cuts through. 

“She is a poison.” You repeat before explaining yourself. “Do not get me wrong, I hold admiration for her bravado, but her words, the things she writes, they cause nothing but pain and conflict for those she chooses to sink her teeth into.”

“But she’s an independent woman.” Eloise interjects. “One who is doing more than any of us could dream of. She is making a name for herself!”

You try to think about your next words carefully, but your mouth makes quick work of a reply. “A name which she hides behind, casting stones through the guise and safety of anonymity.” 

Penelope lets out a scoff from beside you. She’s always been one to defend the infamous gossip columnist. “At least she does not hide herself behind the mask of a man.” That feels like a shot. “The people know full well of her gender, despite her true identity remaining a secret.”

You hear the implication on her tongue. The same cannot be said for you. 

And she’s not wrong. You do hide yourself behind the mask of a man. You’d never once denied that.

You sigh. “I know you must think of me as a hypocrite.” 

Eloise agrees hesitantly. “Only a little.” She admits. “It’s just that you do the same as Mr. Leighton.”

You soften at her honesty. Truthfully, you understand where she’s coming from, but you can’t help the urge you feel to defend yourself.

“I disguise myself as Augutus because I know that no artist or art critic alike will take me seriously as I am. I want to share my work with the world, that is simply all I want. It’s all I have ever wanted.”

“Does that not make you a coward?” Penelope inquires, although it feels less like a question and more like an opinion. This is what she believes. And she's entitled to that. 

“Perhaps.” You nod in acknowledgment. “But it has also made me uniquely successful. And I take great pride knowing that my work is highly regarded, in spite of the fact that I have to be someone else to succeed.” 

“Does that ever bother you?” Eloise persists. “Knowing that no one will know you for the work you have done?”

Before you can respond, Penelope chimes in with a query of her own. “Does it ever make you feel guilty, lying as you do?” This feels like a challenge. 

You turn to Eloise, answering her first. “No, I feel quite unbothered. I like the privacy it provides me.” Your gaze flicks between the two girls, a fire in your eyes as you speak. 

You answer Penelope’s question next. “Guilt is one of the last feelings to cross my mind.” You feel content with it. “Because of Augustus, I have my own money, my own independence. I do not need a man to survive or to be happy. I have choices. And that's a facet of my life I never dreamed could have existed. If there is anything more empowering for a woman than that, I cannot think of it.”

Eloise listens to your words carefully, absorbing them, reveling in them. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Independence is a sign of true equality. And you have that. Not because of the name you hide behind, but because you’d used the insecurities of men to your advantage. You’d played the game and won. 

“I suppose I have been quite short sighted.” There’s much less arrogance in her tone. Eloise sounds humbled. “You’ve given me a new perspective to think about.”

Penelope does not enjoy the direction this conversation has headed. “Surely you cannot think yourself above someone such as Lady Whistledown.”

Your face scrunches in thought. “Above?” You stipulate. “I do not think myself above anyone, gender aside. But I do think I have a much higher sense of self respect than she does.”

“And how could that possibly be?” Penelope has to bite her tongue. She wants to say more, defend herself more. But she cannot. 

Eloise cuts in. “Lady Whistledown has the utmost confidence in herself. I dare say more than all the women in London combined. As much as I have come to see your side, I cannot agree with that.”

“One’s high level of confidence is of little concern here.” You deliver. “Often, in matters regarding the human condition, such as these, it can act as a detriment.” Your eyes narrow as you speak. “Self respect and self confidence can coincide, but they are not the same.”

Eloise laughs out of confusion. She’s not used to being this clueless. “I don’t understand.” She says.

“Ah,” you decide to stop tiptoeing around the subject. “I merely think that no self-respecting woman would use the pain and suffering of other women, or any other person for that matter, for their own profit and entertainment.” 

Eloise’s smile drops. “Oh.” Again, she hadn’t thought of it that way. But what resonates with her most is that you’re not wrong. 

“Is that what you truly think of Lady Whistledown?” Penelope’s voice is calm and collected for the first time this afternoon. It almost scares you. 

“Yes.” You say, before voicing, “However, I mean no offense to either of you. I know how much you girls adore her column. I just want more for you than what she does. A life of gossip is dangerous, and you deserve so much more.”

If you had known you’d been talking to Lady Whistledown herself, maybe you would have kept those opinions to yourself. But little did you know how much your life was about to change, how dangerously you’d walked the line, and how much vengeance rests in Penelope Featherington’s soul.

Future note to self, do not play with fire if one does not wish to get burnt.  

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

“(Y/n), I think you need to see this.” Benedict holds up the newest edition of London’s famous gossip column. 

Your heart sinks at the look in his eyes. I’m sorry they seem to say. 

You haven’t even read it and you already know it’s bad. Handing it to you, Benedict looks hesitant, almost in preparation of what's to come. As you take it from him, you glance down at the ink on the paper, her handwriting etched in your brain. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to read:

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It has come to this author’s attention that a certain individual is playing an unforgivable game of deception within the world of classical art that this ton so highly regards. This artisan has gone to great lengths to keep their true identity from you, painting under a well recognized pseudonym. 

By now you may have guessed, this artist is a woman. One who has tricked you and lied to you by passing her work off as that of a man’s. What a horrid crime it is to keep such a secret from you, and a desperate one, I must admit. A woman so foul as to seek such attention for her art, far too greedy to be content with the life so many of the wonderful women of the ton lead. Instead, she parades around disguising herself so she can live a life she feels entitled to. 

This author asks you to consider the arrogance of it all. But the question remains, as I am sure you are desperate to uncover: who is the serpent who remains among us?

And so it is with great sorrow that I announce the once beloved Augustus Leighton is a fraud. A man never seen in the public setting, has given us a reason why. He is a woman.

And her name, ladies and gentleman of London, is (Y/n) (L/n). 

As I am sure you, gentle reader, are shocked at this revelation, I will take a moment to address the woman this particular entry concerns.

May I remind you Miss (L/n), I have ears and eyes everywhere. Or did you forget? It would do you a world of good to remember that the next time you think about besmirching me. And, as I write this, I must say, this warning goes for all. Heed it, live by it, breathe by it. I am not a woman you want to cross. 

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

Panic crawls through your body. You want to cry, scream, maybe even simply die from the anxiety you’re feeling. 

“What am I going to do?” 

Your voice cracks, it sounds like glass breaking. Shattered, ragged, and tired, and Benedict can do nothing but hold you. 

Again, as your body shakes and caves into the pressure you think, what am I going to do?

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The moment Eloise enters the room with Anthony at her side, your mind is sent ablaze. Only three people had known about Augustus. Only three people could have possibly let it slip, and you know for a fact it wasn’t Benedict.

As much as you want to believe Eloise would never do something like that to you, you can’t help but feel like she might have offhandedly mentioned it to someone. Her mouth had always worked much faster than her brain.  

Benedict’s gaze meets yours in understanding. He hopes his sister hasn’t done this; he’ll be furious if she has. 

You’re about to say something when a certain eldest Bridgerton catches you off guard. Anthony smiles when he sees you, eyes twinkling uncharacteristically so. 

“I had no idea you could paint like that.” He says. “I must admit, I’m quite proud of you.”

You blink rapidly in confusion. Proud? In all the years you’ve known Anthony, he’s never told you he’s proud of you. 

“So you’ve read the column then?” Your head hangs in shame. Everyone in London has probably read it by now. 

“Everyone has.” Eloise pipes in timidly, confirming your suspicions. 

She’s nervous, understandably so, fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. You assume when you finally catch her gaze that she’ll avert it quickly, but instead, she holds it well. 

We need to talk. 

Benedict, reading the room perfectly, coughs in apprehension. “Brother, how about we let these ladies be for a moment? I’m certain they have some things to discuss.”

“Of course.” Anthony nods with a smile, not before reminding you how proud he is of you.

If anything good can come of this, it might just be that. 

Once alone, Eloise is eager to assure you of her innocence. “I spoke to no one.” She promises. “Blood be forgotten, you’re my sister (Y/n). I would never betray you like that.”

The look on her face is one of pure panic; she needs you to believe her. And despite everything, you do. It almost makes you feel guilty that you questioned her. 

“It’s alright.” You assure her. “I know you wouldn’t.”

But that only leaves one person…

“I think Penelope is Lady Whistledown.” You're taken aback by Eloise’s words, like a stab to the chest. Twisting the knife in further, she corrects, “I know she is.”

Moments of silence pass before you can collect your thoughts. “How long have you known?”

This is where Eloise loses her composure. Pure shame is etched upon her features. “I caught her a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks. A few weeks… A FEW WEEKS?

“Oh.” Your murmur is dejected and weak.

Eloise had known you’d been slandering Lady Whistledown in front of Lady Whistledown, and she’d done nothing to stop you, except defend her best friend’s honour. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to agree with you. 

“I wanted to say something.” Eloise stammers. “But I couldn’t. Penelope doesn’t know that I know.”

You inhale a staggered breath of air, face falling to your palms. “I’ve been such a fool. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You have not.” The girl beside you opposes before continuing, “Trust me, I am furious with Penelope. The things she’s done and said about me, about the people I care about, I’m not sure I can forgive her for it.”

You scoff lightly. Trust her? How are you supposed to do that?

Sure, Eloise has certainly been burned by Lady Whistledown before, but she’s always had her name to fall back on. “You have no idea what it’s like, Eloise.”

“I’m sorry.” She slumps in apology, shrinking in on herself. Eloise likes to think she can understand where you’re coming from. She’s a woman, same as you, one who has the same struggles against the patriarchy, and yet, hers are much different.  

“Don’t.” You dismiss her apology in frustration. It feels harsh but necessary. “You always speak about feminism and the difficulties of being a woman. How it is impossible for you to hold title and rank, or to be recognized for your accomplishments. But you are a Bridgerton Eloise, and that comes with more privilege, more title, more rank, and more acknowledgment in society than you seem to understand.”

Eloise’s brow furrows. “More often than not, that name is a burden, something you could not possibly grasp.”

“And I should not have to.” Your lips pull into a thin line. This isn’t a competition, but you feel it necessary to defend your point wholly. “I am the daughter of a servant and a seamstress. I have no money, no control, and no future if I am not to marry. Since the day I was born, I belonged to someone else. You talk of struggle, but you have no idea what it truly means.”

Eloise doesn’t like what you’re implying. “You think I live a life of luxury? That I am a stranger to the adversities life has to offer? I can assure you, I know much more about the struggles of which you speak. My mother has prepared me for the purpose of my future; finding a husband is imperative.”

“You plan to remain unmarried, correct?” You ask her seriously.

“With every fiber in my being.” Is her scathing reply. And it only serves to prove your point. But you can see her side of things too. 

“El, you defy your mother with your distaste for society. And while I applaud your determination to fight for equality, your fault remains in your failure to recognize the entitlement that has been bestowed upon you simply by having that choice. Unlike so many women, you can choose to live your life as a spinster. For you, those options exist. For me, I have not one choice besides finding a well suited, at best, middle class husband, because that is all I am suited for.”

In this moment, her heart shatters for you. Is that really what you think of yourself? “You cannot possibly mean that.” 

“It’s how it has to be.” You affirm. 

“It’s not.” She disagrees. “There’s so much more for you than a husband.”

Both your defenses are down, walls have collapsed, and you’re starting to get through to each other. She’s starting to grasp the gravity of what this means for you. Your career is more than likely over, as is the steady source of income you’d managed to build. Except where before you’d had less than no money to your name, you now had a healthy dowry (that you’d earned no less) to find a more comfortable suitor. 

Eloise sees it now. What Penelope has done is monumentally life changing. 

However, as emotional as this circumstance is, you still feel the need to reach out. She’s your sister after all. 

“Eloise,” your eyes search hers. They tread in a sea of empathy. “I never meant to imply you have lived a life without misfortunes. I’m not trying to diminish your hurt. But I thought if you heard my side, you might come to understand mine.”

She softens at your admission, having gotten carried away in defending herself. Nodding, she smiles gently. “I do.” She says. “And while you may not bear the Bridgerton surname, you do have us. Every Bridgerton will stand behind you, always.”

Against every fibre in your being, you believe her. Somehow you’ll always have this little family of yours, somehow you hope you’ll be okay…

[silenced-ghost]

on my way home from the bar and I'm thinking about stopping by the liquor store to pick up a bottle for the needy sub I have waiting for me. she knows I like to come home with a nice buzz after a long day to find her patiently waiting, on the edge of need and desperation to feel my grasp around her again. tonight I've got a little treat in mind for her - I'm in the mood to feed her shots straight from the bottle until she's a drunk, sloppy little slut for my cock.

I pick up a bottle of vodka, not a cheap one either, I want it to go smooth down her pretty little throat. I head home, open the door, and walk in to find her laying on the couch in just a pair of panties. she was watching tv but perked up as she heard me come in, I smile to her as I notice she's eyed the brown bag in my hand concealing the bottle I got for her. I can see the anticipation grow in her eyes and I say "I missed you today little doll, I thought I'd come home with a little treat." I motion for her to come over to me. she slides off the couch hands first and crawls towards me, just like I trained her to.

my smile turns to a grin as she approaches and I point to my left boot. "sit." she quickly positions herself on her knees and sits her herself right on my boot. I can feel the warmth of her pussy through the toe of my boot as I continue to grin at her. I pull the bottle out of the bag, open it, and take a swig. I peek down at her to admire the needy desperation growing in her eyes. "do you want some little doll?" she nods ecstatically and starts to bounce her pussy against my boot. I grab her by the mouth and hold it open, take a swig, and spit it from my mouth into hers. I can feel her resist the urge to squirm in my grip as she takes the shot gratefully. I close her mouth for her to swallow, kissing her as I do so she can taste the vodka off of my lips. I then press the bottle to her lips and feed her another shot. I can feel her press against me, her hips that were gently bouncing a moment ago are now grinding steadily against my boot. I grip the back of her neck, force her head back, and measure out another shot into her mouth.

I can't help but start to feel my cock throb against my jeans as I watch the way her lips caress and wrap around the mouth of the bottle. she starts wrapping her arms around my legs for balance as the shots begin to hit her and before long I can see she's fully wet through her panties and dripping against my boot. she tries to paw needily at my bulge but I swat her hand away and slap her. "already so drunk that you can't behave?" I grab her by her hair and tell her that if she want's to act like a slut I can get her drunk like one and use her like one. I feed her another shot and she eagerly takes it, licking and sucking the neck of the bottle as she does just to try and please me more. I smile and say "that's my slut." as I do, I release my grip for a moment to undo my jeans. I slide them down and rub my throbbing bulge through my boxer briefs as she watches wide-eyed. "get up here and kiss it" I say and she pops up on her knees to kiss my cock through my underwear with her wet lips. I let out a moan of pleasure as she starts to lick and suck through my underwear in desperation to taste my cock. I feel her grip my thighs and she bites lightly on my dick. I grab her by the neck and slap her again. she feigns shame but she can't hide that look of evil pleasure in her eyes from me. I lean down to whisper in her ear "if you bite, I'll make you bleed when I bite back." I can feel my words melt that brat in her away for the moment as I bring the bottle up to her lips again. this time I feed her two shots, one at a time, and she takes notice. I grip her gently again by the neck and say "don't count, don't think, you just need to do what I say now little doll."

I pull my throbbing cock out of my boxer briefs and slap her pretty, drunk face with it. she's starting to drool in drunk pleasure, so needy that her juices are dripping from her cunt and running down her leg. she slurs her words as she tries to beg to taste my cock and feel it slide deep into her throat. I put the bottle between her legs and tell her to grind it. as she does, I grab her head with both hands and force my hard cock in her mouth and down her throat. I start to rhythmically thrust as she does her best to resist squirming from the force as she tries to keep grinding her soaked panties against the bottle. I hold her steady and keep pounding her throat. I feel my balls ache and swell, the load I've been holding for my drunk little slut all day ready to be emptied inside her throat. I look her in the eyes and ask "are you ready for another treat?" as I continue to thrust her mouth so she can't speak. she tries to nod against the force of my hands and looks up at me with begging desperation. In an instant, that feeling of her warm throat around my cock combined with that sweet look makes me lose my edge completely.

I start to pump my cum inside her throat, watching her fight to hold my cock as deep as possible so she can gulp every drop from my tip. even still, it starts to overflow at her lips and my cum flows from her mouth and down her chin, dripping to her tits. I admire the view as I hold her head steady around my cock. I reach down and pull the bottle up from between her legs. I eye the wet spot left on the bottle from her grinding her wet pussy against it while I used her throat and lick it ferally. I smile as I open the bottle again and say "you're off to such a good start tonight little doll, now I want you to chase my cum with another shot. I'm going to have you kill this bottle by the time I'm done with you tonight - we'll see if you remember it."

[nomoreusername]

Pretend

Pairing:Newt x female reader

Summary:To help savor the rest of his time here, Newt keeps pretending to be fine.

I was breaking. Slowly, steadily, gradually, I was falling apart. I was going to be something evil, something not even recognizable as once human.

Maybe I should say something. Maybe I should tell somebody. Maybe I should speak up and request a side mission for another cure like the one Brenda got.

If we focus on me though, all of the attention won't be on Minho. That would make saving him harder than it has to be because of me. I can't do that to him. I won't do that to my best friend.

It’s wrong how now that I actually want to live I’m going to die. It’s every level of messed up that there is. I overcame so much. I felt okay waking up in the morning. I made friends who mean the world. I got an amazing girlfriend that I had an entire future planned with.

Not anymore I guess. Just as my life begins, it will end. Just like that, it's lights out for me.

Sighing, I sat on the roof, ignoring the chill from the morning air. In my short sleeves, I looked at the growing bite, wondering how it could all come to this.

Deep down, I know Y/N will come looking for me soon. She’s not a very good sleeper so when she wakes up and realizes I’m not there, she’ll try to find me. She probably will too. I’ll probably tell another lie for the sake of keeping attention off of me.

Figuring there was too much sunlight for comfort now even though it was just my eyes adjusting, I slipped my jacket pack on and went to leave. Plus, I swear that I'm going to vomit if I kept looking at it. I’m both repulsed by it and amazed that I’ve kept this under wraps for so long. Surely, that's some kind of record. Longest hidden Crank transformation. That's worthy of a trophy.

Too bad the reward is Minho living a nice life and me dying.

While I’m nothing but relieved that he’ll end up okay, I’m admittedly bitter about the cards I’ve been dealt. It's like the game was rigged from the start and definitely not in my favor.

I’m a lot more tired than I’ve ever been now, and I know that getting up hours before everyone else isn't helping. I’m sure it will take a toll on my face too. I’m probably going to die with dark bags under my eyes.

I’ve got to play it cool until then. I’ve got to go under the radar, get Minho, and make sure everyone I care about and love gets out of the city and to the Safe Haven. Plain and simple.

Putting my hand on the door, I went to open it only for it to fly open, nearly hitting me in the face. Letting go, I quickly backed away a safe distance. Standing straight up, I found myself completely calm. I guess after getting jumped by a bunch of Cranks the things that used to startle you just seem less significant.

My girl was standing there, a sheepish expression on her face as she apologized for not knocking. Playing with her hands, she met my eyes as waited for me to respond.

“It's okay. You didn't know I was here,”I assured her, giving her a genuine, hopefully regular smile. Letting out a relieved sigh, she then asked what I was doing up here anyways.

As I looked at her, at her sweet face, at her warm eyes, at her soft lips, at her gentle and full of kindness personality, I was overcome with the urge to blurt it all out. I just wanted to drop to my knees and cry. I just wanted her to promise that she wouldn't even tell anybody but instead hold me tight and never let me go.

“Just thinking,”I shrugged.

I would not be doing any of those things. Not today, not tomorrow, and not for as long as I can help it. While I’m still in control, I’m going to savor every bit of it.

I'm also going to treasure every second I have left with her. Not the stressed out ones spent arguing and planning. Nice and peaceful moments that would give her just a few more good memories before I left.

“Do you want to sit out here for a little bit and watch the sunrise with me?”I offered.

“Of course. You know that's basically my favorite date with you,”She accepted, a wide grin on her face as she stepped out and shut the door behind her. Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I placed a kiss on her temple as I walked her over to the edge to just sit and talk.

“Yeah. Mine too,”I agreed. Resting her head on my shoulder, she held my hand that was around her as her other was on my knee. Placing my free hand over that one, I traced circles on her knuckles with my thumb as I took a deep breath, taking in her scent of honey. A scent just as soft and comforting as her.

“I know you tell me I say it enough, but just in case I haven't lately, I love you,”She told me, the happiness clear as day in her tone.

“I love you too. Remember that no matter what I’ll never stop loving you? Remember that I only ever want you to be happy? Okay?”I whispered, holding back a lump in my throat.

“I know that, and moments like these are enough to keep me going. They're that consistent, good thing that I just know we’ll have forever. You know what I mean?”

Closing my eyes to stop the tears, I squeezed her hand as I tried to pretend her words were true.

“Yeah. I do.”

[fickleminder]

the animal inside of you

Kirana bonds with a sea creature of her own at the aquarium, but the others have some Concerns.

I only just got around to reading the Aquarium event story yesterday so here’s a little drabble on what aquatic animal my F!OC might be paired with… 🤭

Sitting on a platform at the edge of the main tank, Kirana idly kicked her legs in the water as she brainstormed ideas for what Beel’s evil octopus could do to earn more Grimm. For such a spindly thing, it sure could rival the demon in terms of appetite.

A few of the more curious inhabitants of the tank swam closer to her while she sat there thinking, but none had really stuck around for long after watching their fill of the human.

Well, except for one.

Kirana giggled as her toes were tickled by the rainbow-colored creature, who playfully darted away when she wriggled her feet at it in response. It kept coming back to nudge at her legs, engaging her in what seemed like a mock fight, and its large eyes blinked excitedly at her when she managed to tap it with her feet.

The creature didn’t seem to have any major grievances with the aquarium; it was just bored and wanted to play, and Kirana was more than happy to indulge it.

“Kirana, the aquarium’s about to close!” Levi called out from somewhere behind her, his footsteps getting louder as he approached. “We can come back tomorrow and…”

The demon fell silent, so Kirana turned around to reply. “Okay, can you grab my shoes—”

“Don’t. Move.”

She immediately froze. Levi was staring at her, or more specifically at the tank, with wide-eyed horror, his palms facing out in a soothing gesture. Did he notice something dangerous that had shown up while she wasn’t looking? Kirana felt the creature she’d been playing with climb up her left calf and hug it reassuringly.

“Shit. Um, uhh, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay— LUCIFER HELP!”

“What is it now…” Lucifer marched over with a sigh. The rest of the group followed behind him, wondering what the commotion was. He took one look at the situation and stilled, his arm automatically shooting out to the side when Satan attempted to rush forward, blocking the other demon from any hasty movements.

“Guys, you are freaking me out. What is it?” Kirana’s mind was spinning. Was it a kraken? A megalodon? An ancient dinosaur?

“Smiting mantis shrimp,” Simeon answered, the calm smile on his face completely forced. “Native to the Celestial Realm, and an apex predator among aquatic beings of its size. It has claws that can literally punch a hole through walls and spear through the toughest of shells. Its rainbow-colored armor—”

“Oh, you mean this little guy?” Kirana reached down to pet said shrimp, who was as big and long as her entire leg. It waved its antennae in delight at the attention. “He’s such a sweetheart! I decided to call him Ali. Say hello, Ali!”

The crustacean’s eyes locked onto the group and it released its hold on Kirana to flex one of its large claws, daring them to come at it.

“I don’t understand…” Luke whimpered from behind a slack-jawed Solomon. “Kirana has nothing in common with that— that—”

“My Lord, we need to exercise extreme caution,” Barbatos solemnly advised the prince, who had grown steadily paler as Simeon described the creature.

Asmo tried holding eye contact with the rainbow monster to charm it into letting his favorite human go, but its large beady eyes made him crack first and look away with a shiver.

“Kirana, I’ve got your shoes right here.” Belphie held them up like an enticing treat. “Why don’t you come down and put them on and then we can all go home, hm?”

It was getting quite late so Kirana had to bid her new friend goodbye, but not without promising to come back and play again the next day. The second her feet touched the ground, Satan quickly bundled her up in his arms and planted himself between her and the tank, all while making hissing noises at it. Beel wordlessly put her shoes on for her.

“Take that, you stupid shrimp!” Mammon crowed as they made to leave. “Kirana belongs to us and don’t you forget it—”

Ali jabbed at the thick glass with a loud THUNK, creating a hairline fracture and causing Mammon to scream.

[yeonjunsvape]

friday nights: sub jooyeon

genre: smut

w/c: 800

pairings: sub!jooyeon, dom!fem

warnings: degradation, cursing, jerking off

xdh masterlist

a/n: i looooove submissive jooyeon so much, i might make another one where he’s bratty, but i wanted to see how this did first.

my ask is open so message me anything!!

movie nights are you and your boyfriend jooyeon’s favorite night of the week. every friday after the both of you get off work, you cuddle up in bed and watch your favorite movies.

tonight was different, jooyeon suggested you make a pallet on the living room floor so there was more room and also the tv is bigger.

you agree and happily help him stack enough blankets to be comfortable then lay both of your pillows down while jooyeon got all his favorite snacks.

you admire how adorable he is when he does a little happy dance with a handful of snacks, plopping down next to you. “which movie tonight?”

you hum and flip through random streaming platforms then hear a gasp from your boyfriend. “THE LEGO MOVIE PLEASE!!” he shouts unnecessarily loud, as you were sitting right next to him.

“we watched that the other day baby.” you laugh at his love for childish movies and kiss his temple. “but i really like it…” you nod at his soft voice and turn on the movie, laying down so you could cuddle with jooyeon.

“can i lay in your lap?” he was looking up at you, his long blonde hair already messy even though he just laid down. “of course my honey.” he spread your legs and made himself comfortable on your lap, resting his head against your shoulder.

jooyeon being so much bigger than you and laying on your lap may look odd on the outside world, but to you, it was your entire world.

halfway through the movie you begin dissociating and feeling sleepy, then look down to see your boyfriend watching the screen intently with chips in his mouth.

you giggle to yourself and lean down to kiss his cheek, “i love you my baby boy.”

“i love you too,” his voice was muffled considering the food in his mouth and he points at his favorite character on the movie, telling you everything he loved about him. you listen, but have to admit, you were feeling bored.

you grab a blanket and throw it over your bodies, then, as jooyeon continues to ramble on, you rub his exposed belly slowly. he was only wearing his boxers which was perfect so you could execute your plan.

his story continued about the lore of the movie as you wrap your arms around his waist and at a leisurely pace, slide your hand in his boxers.

jooyeon immediately stopped speaking then looked up at you with a whimper, which made an evil smirk crawl on your face.

“keep talking baby, tell me about your favorite character.”

jooyeon nods and continues, “h-her name is wyldstyle but her real name is luCY-fuck…”

his voice went up an octave on account of you brushing your fingers over his very sensitive and semi-hard shaft.

he dug his head deeper in your shoulder with a whine as you tease him, “mommmmy.” he drawls out, attempting to buck his hips but you held them down. “focus on the movie.”

jooyeon does as he’s told, watching the movie with a pained expression and lets you play with him.

“it’s so pretty and big for me.” you whisper in his ear and grab the base of his cock in your hand, jerking it steadily.

“spit.” you command after pulling away from his dick and put your hand to his mouth so you had lubrication to jerk him.

he spits on your hand, leaving a trail on the side of his mouth which you lick up, and then go back to your hand in his boxers.

jooyeon gssps once you make contact again and involuntarily bucks his hips when you start jerking him. “patience baby boy.”

he mutters curses as he watches the movie, “you want to cum, slut?” you mumble in his ear sexily, the sloppy wet sound of your fist beating him fast was the only thing he could pay attention to. “y-yes mommy please.”

jooyeon clenches the fabric of your shirt until his knuckles were white and you knew he was close. “cum for me like the little whore you are.”

your hand never wavered speed as you jerk him the way he loves and you look down to see the outline of his tip in his underwear, then his white liquid seeping out as he came.

jooyeon curls his toes and breathes heavy while you continue to stroke him slow. “so pretty.” you giggle and pull your hand out, licking your fingers clean.

“take off your boxers and i’ll clean you up.” you command, which he complied with, standing up to take off his boxers.

you lean in, still laying and lick him all up until he was clean. “good boy, now let’s cuddle and finish the movie.”

[lady-ashfade]

⚡︎The Prophecy Of Oz⚡︎

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Percy Jackson X Princess!Fem!Reader (wizard of oz au)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Collaboration with @queenpiranhadon

╰･ﾟ✧☽ you can fine the others here.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Summary: Three champions choose their next grand quest, the journey to a unknown island to speak to a wizard. Enemies lying at every twist and turn, but all they have to do is follow the yellow brick road.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 977

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: short story, a twist on wizard of oz, fantasy au/champion au, Older Percy Jackson & characters, romantic story lines, rushed ending.

This movie scares me and brings up old memories I wanna cry too.

The twisted trees blocked the peaking sunrise from the pathed road, monsters howl and squeal getting further away from the morning sky.

They had fought a few monsters since they arrived on the island when the moon was just approaching, the sea was more kind to them than whatever evil rested here. The blue blood stained their clothes along with the red was a horrific sight, but Grover had it the worst. A giant gargoyle trampled over him, opening its mouth to hiss while it's saliva poured out and made his skin and clothes sticky.

"Out of all the quests, you two had to pick this one?" Grover used a hush tone and still annoyance was made known. The other two shared a glance while keeping silence against his words, he knew why.

This was the hardest quest. And one for them to show the most bravery.

“It seemed easy at the time,” Percy tried to reason with his friend even though he himself wanted to do a different quest.

Annabeth rolled her eyes as the two started to bicker back-and-for, she was the one who held the map in her hands since she didn’t trust either of them. Last time she trusted Percy to lead them the right way, they almost died from the monster cave they ended up in. Nonetheless she spotted a glow from between a few trees ahead, the turn in the path was near and seemed to give off a bright light.

She started to try and get them to stop talking but they didn’t seem to care about anything. “Guys!” Finally she shouted and got the boy’s attention to stop fighting. They noticed almost immediately at the brighten area ahead and gave each other a wary look. The oracle said to follow a yellow brick road, this must be it!!

From beside them, in the lightly brightened forest a sound of a tree branch snapped and had their heads turned quickly to scanned the area for potential threats.

Dispute their sharp eyes trained to see in more darken areas, and senses that tell when enemies are near they hadn't been sensing anything.

Quick to draw their swords the group backed up and formed a circle, with their backs touching each others. All eyes faced another direction and searched for the target. Annabeth poked Percy with her arms still staying quiet, the boy looked over and saw his friend staring into the dark. A pair of green eyes steadily watched them, and deep, rough breathes like a horse snout could be heard.

"Who's there!" Percy called out throughout the forest. The eyes blink slowly, a small thump of something hitting the dirt and leaves repeatedly hit their ears softly.

“You-Your the ones" the voice was highly contrast from itself. Whoever spoke had a deep and un natural tone, one that tumbled the air when it spoke, a growl undertone. A strong voice shouldn't sound so...

Cowardly.

Suddenly the figure emerged from the dark area, and what they saw was a confusing sight. A lion…Walking with two feet and human like features, and he doesn’t look as dangerous as a real lion. He stood there awkwardly and tense under the glaze and hated the swords they held so high.

“I mean no harm—I couldn’t hurt even if I wanted to, forgive me champions,” his tail hid between his legs and helped himself in his own arms, “I am one of the three from your quest, the coward lion at your service.” He shook while bowing his head so slightly and backed away from the three humans.

“Oh,” they dropped their blades realizing who it was. The Oracle never said exactly who they needed to help and never did they expect a talking lion-man. “Sorry, we thought you were one of those flying monkeys, or something else.”

The lion roared a chuckle, “They are brave even if they are evil.”

The lion turned its head quickly after speaking and a unknown sound got closer. Like little twinkling sounds or water, or magic and of course that’s what it was. A glowing bubble rushed toward them from the road ahead as the sun followed and the forest got brighter. Two frames walked on either sides just as strange as the lion. One was a man made of tin and metal, a coal burner for a stomach and on the other side was a man made of it straw…A scarecrow?

As the bubble inched closer it grew in size and the group stepped back, worried it was something bad. The tint and color of the bubble was pink, and it flowed beautifully, and once it was in front of the champions soon it bursted and a woman appeared.

A human like them with features of beauty, a big dress the same color of pink as her bubble and a golden crown rested upon her head. Her lips gave a kind smile and eyes that drew Percy in for more.

Percy thought she was unlike anything he’s ever seen before, like a statue back on his homeland. He never met royalty but he was sure if he did, she would beat them all in looks.

“Welcome, champions,” the mystery woman bowed her head slightly, “We have been awaiting your arrival for a long time.” in her hands a glowing wand.

“How many of you know we are there? We have been attacked to no end, so why are all of you welcoming?”

They followed her down the yellow brick road hesitantly incase of a attack but nothing came. Instead they saw a huge castle with the brightest sky they had ever seen, villages and creatures happy and content around. It was out of a storybook from their youth.

“Now I really know we aren’t at camp anymore.” Grover said in awe.

Extra:

“You say the wizard, Oz, is far away?” Percy and the Princess stood alone in a room, his gaze never falling from a mischievous one.

“Hmm.”

As the dark haired boy walked towards the princess, a smirk tightened his lips while reaching her. “Might I have your blessing? For the travels to come, a princesses luck is sure to be good here, yes?” she smirks and playfully rolls her eyes.

“You have all my luck and prayers, Percy. If you happen to make it back, I shall grant you with a special thing,” she leaned in with a giggle that made his cheeks flush.

“A kiss.”

Writer speaks: there will mostly likely be no part two. I wrote a whole different thing for this event but hated it so this was the rewrite, so I dislike this but I can’t do anything about it! But a huge thanks to @queenpiranhadon for thinking of me and asking me to be apart of this huge thing. If you ever want me again I will be better than this time, but I understand because I was all over the place-

[waffleweirdo]

Every time I watch Rebellion I become even more convinced that Homura did nothing wrong.

The fact that she spent countless lifetimes desperately trying to protect Madoka, yet failing every time. Steadily making her relationship with not just Madoka, but everyone else worse.

And she failed every single time.

Then, on her death bed, while overwhelmed with curses and the despair of being a witch. She creates a labyrinth that makes everyone happy.

For the first time. Amidst all her suffering and only when she is truly doomed that she is able to, even just for a fleeting moment, protect everyone.

Then of course it gets ripped away. The incubators have used to trap Madoka and the Law of Cycles. The final decision by her most precious person is about to be undone and it will be *her* fault.

And so once again her cycle of torment repeats. Despite all her efforts she is only adding fuel to the fire. Again. So she tries to sacrifice herself and with even the last ounce of her life she tries to save Madoka. She fails.

Yet the incubators have still seen the Law of Cycles. They won’t ever stop trying to reverse everything Madoka has done. And Homura has once again seen Madoka, and learned of the pain she had to face.

Madoka may have made an ultimate heroic sacrifice, and might now no longer be human, but how could Homura ever forget the part of her that is human?

The girl she loves so much.

But it’s all useless. She’s about to die having failed every single time, never being able to help anyone.

If she could find the power to change that… and she does find the power. Born out of her love.

The world that Homura creates isn’t inherently insidious. It is a world where the Law of Cycles still exists, just separate from Madoka.

Where all of the quintet can live happy lives.

Theoretically it is a solution where everyone wins.

But to do it Homura had no choice, but to trample on Madoka’s altruistic wish. To hurt Madoka, whom Homura loves above the world could only be sin.

Even if she truly believes it was the only way to save Madoka, Homura must view herself as nothing other than a wretched demon.

I think the moment that struck me the most on this re-watch was that Homura goes immediately from essentially feeling unimaginable pain, self hatred, and despair into recreating the universe.

It genuinely feels as if it’s a dire, desperate attempt to change her miserable fate. I don’t think she really intended to be evil or cause harm, but in her current head space and amount of self loathing that’s all she could picture any self-motivated action as being.

I mean she found out she was a witch - essentially her most hated existence - like 30 minutes ago. She is not having a good time.

Anyways Homura you are wonderful and have never done anything wrong. Ever. (Obviously an exaggeration, but yeah)

[marley-manson]

001 | Xena

Thank you! 💖

Favorite character:

Xena!! Everything I could possibly want in a female character, and a fandom that largely enjoys it rather than downplaying it.

I loooove that the writers went into the show (Xena, not her first appearance on Hercules probs) essentially writing her as a male archetype almost no concessions to the fact that she's played by Lucy Lawless other than pronouns and some het. She's cold and stoic - it's not until the first season finale that she even really displays a raw emotion other than mid-fight glee, including when her own mother draws a sword on her, and when she has to kill a man she loves to some extent. She's the strongest, toughest, most competent person in any room at all times, and everyone knows it and defers to her, absolutely including men. Early on there are a few scenes where she's hit on and punches dudes, but that actually goes away pretty quick as she just tends to command a certain sense of respect. It's an ideal female power fantasy - not to survive patriarchal violence, but to live without even having to spare a thought for it.

She's complex and nuanced and the narrative is very interested in exploring her as a three dimensional character.

She's formerly evil and still revels in violence, and it's amazing. She's often on the verge of going too dark again and needing to be pulled back from the edge, and she snaps in a few episodes including one where she attempts to murder Gabrielle, pre-meditated and all. She's framed like a horror movie monster in a few episodes, something I always love to see in a protagonist.

And on the flip side, she's fun! She steadily loosens up the more time she spends with Gabrielle doing good, and she can be very playful at times, and it's awesome to see in contrast to the first season.

I'll never be over her and idt there'll ever be another female character who can truly compare. Xena is a product of the tone of the show, and that tone is dead now.

Least Favorite character:

Borias, mainly for his appearance in The Debt as the only man who has ever had physical power over Xena - while her legs were broken - and for clitblocking Lao Ma.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Xena/Gabrielle (and Mel/Janice who counts under this umbrella) Gabrielle/Aphrodite Xena/Ares Xena/Lao Ma Xena/Callisto

Character I find most attractive:

Gabrielle. I mean just look at her abs

Character I would marry:

Gabrielle 💖

Character I would be best friends with:

Gabrielle lmao.

a random thought:

Xena has the best clipshows of any show I've ever seen. Almost always worth watching for the absolutely delightful framing devices.

An unpopular opinion:

I get shallow entertainment out of the scenes where Xena seduces men in the later seasons lol. Like firstly, I love that the show really pointedly toes a line and she never actually sleeps with them past like season 2, because she's in a relationship with Gabrielle. I also love that they show Gabrielle being annoyed or jealous if she gets into it. The show is blatantly playing both sides and trying to appeal to het viewers as well, but very deliberate in never contradicting X/G and I can appreciate that.

But also I love how dominant Xena almost always is, both in bed and in how she just interacts with men, and how it's always framed as something she wants/how she behaves by default rather than something she does for the dudes, who are generally more ambivalent about her topping. Like, ultimately it's a fantasy for subby male viewers, but it doesn't feel like it so it's enjoyable to me.

This is popular with the het fans lol, but they're the minority so it still counts.

my canon OTP:

Xena/Gabrielle, and yes it absolutely counts as canon for the purposes of this question.

Non-canon OTP:

Xena/Ares

most badass character:

Do I have to say it after my ode to her up there?

pairing I am not a fan of:

Gabrielle/Joxer, Gabrielle/Virgil, Gabrielle/any dude. Xena/Borias in terms of canon relationships.

character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):

Najara!!!! I absolutely adored her in her first episode, she's an amazing foil to Xena. She would've been a perfect recurring villain after Callisto, with her moral ambiguity, her deliberate choice to kill vs Xena's bloodlust, her more grandiose ideals vs Xena's more do good when its in front of you philosophy, etc.

Then her second episode just eviscerates her character and turns her into a caricature of a ~crazy girl~ and it's awful. The actress probably wasn't available for a recurring role, but like, she could've been written off more respectfully, or never given a second episode at all to assassinate her character. Boo.

favourite friendship:

Gabrielle and Aphrodite, I think. They're very cute together. Though shout out to Gabrielle and Ephiny, since I did find it quite touching to see her again in season 6.

character I want to adopt or be adopted by:

None, I don't really think of characters this way.

ask meme

[spyderlondon]

An au, where everyone’s memories are lost including the crew thinking they were ever real/humans when they got transported into the digital circus, they all think they are their respective characters and act as their characters personalities, heavily deviating from the ones in the show

Pomni a semi crazy goofy jester

Kinger…. A normal king

Jax, a helpful voice of reason(with a little southern accent)

And so on

A/N: .......evil Caine route? Evil Caine route. Definitely no showtime in this- it'd be far too toxic. There will be a referenced BunnyDoll though.

CW: Mind wiping, mental manipulation, puppeteeing unwilling participants, amnesia, loss of free will

Art by @00belle00lovely00

Pulling All the Strings

Ko-Fi

----

There was a small gasp then a groan as a small woman awoke in a dark room with no light visible aside from a small crack under, what she assumed, was a door, "Ugh... where-where am I...?" She mumbled quietly.

There was an almost unnoticeable dark chuckle from the corner of the room, "Seems my new puppet has awoken from her sleep~" A voice called out as she was forced onto her feet slowly and steadily as if strings were pulling her upwards against her will.

Her eyes widened in fear as she began struggling, attempting to get away. Only to feel her flesh being cut into by the invisible threads. She could only gasp in pain, "Let go! Let me [^^%*&^%] go, you ba-" She cried out as the strings seemed to yank against her neck, threatening to cut deep if she spoke another word.

Once the woman went silent and the figure seemed to feel slowly stop to struggle, he spoke up again, "They always struggle." He sighed as he on the strings once more before loosening them up, "Always struggle, almost always curse. You're all so... human." He hissed out 'human', sounding disgusted by the word. He went silent as he looked down at her, only his glowing narrowed eyes could be seen. It was as if he was examining her, judging her, figuring out who she was, "Hm, yes, you'd make a wonderful jester~" It sounded as if he was grinning, "Let me adjust your mind a tad..."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN AD- Ack!" She was silenced with another pull of the invisible string on her neck, drawing blood.

"Now, now, pet. You needn't worry about a thing..." A hand was placed on top of her head, forcing her to peer up into his heterochromatic eyes that began to quickly flash with dots and strobbing lights. She attempted to shut her eyes to avoid looking into his but that merely resulted in tiny strings taking her eyelids and forcing them open, "Do not look away from your new puppet master." He commanded with a low growl. She whimpered in fear as she had no choice but to submit to him, gazing into his flashing, wide eyes, "Good, my little jester~ Just stay like that..." He mumbled as watched the color from her eyes slowly dull from the bright violet coloration they once had and slowly had the colors separate into blue and red in a pinwheel pattern before her eyes were allowed to flutter shut.

------

"Pomni. Wake up. Time to prepare for the show." A voice spoke out, waking the jester from her sleep.

She rose as if booting up like a computer. She looked up at the floating figure in front of her with blank eyes for a moment as if registering who she was looking at- red coat... white under shirt... black pants... top hat... oh! "Hello! Caine!" She greeted as she jumped out of her bed with a bright, kind've unnatural smile on her face.

Caine hid a smirk as he watched the girl- his new puppet. His new 'AI' smile at him while rocking back and forth on her feet as if waiting orders from him. He hummed as he silently looked her up and down, admiring his work on the jester. She had a black and red color scheme unlike her blue and red eyes but her outfit had entirely changed- she had a hat on that completely covered her hair with the front part of it going down in between her eyes and barely going over the bridge of her nose with little yellow bells on the ends of the liliripes; she had a dark red vest with little purple jewels attached on the lapels; gray long sleeves that had cyan embroidery on it of some swirly patterns as well as the letters 'C&A' on the shoulders; she had dark blue and crimson gloves on her hands; her tights were black and red alternating zig zags; and her shoes were like her gloves dark blue and crimson.

The ringmaster rolled his shoulders a bit, "Hello, my dear." He mused as he greeted her, "I apologize for how I had to force you into sleep mode last night, you were just acting out too much. I had to reprogram you a bit." He explained with a feigned sigh of disappointment, "But, don't you worry, any injuries sustained were patched up Bubble!" He clapped his hands together as if everything was going as normal as always. Pomni's programming simply messed up and had to be fixed after!

"Oh! Sorry for whatever I messed up on, Ringmaster!" The jester apologized with a silly bow before glancing up at him to see him chuckling in amusement, brightening her mood up.

"Ah, it's all okay. No harm, no foul after all, my dear." He waved off, "But we mustn't stand here chatting! Jax and Ragatha's act should be over here soon! You are up next, my dear, the audience mustn't be kept waiting after all!" He urged her to get ready before he zipped off to check on the current act.

----

"You cannot see

How much I long to be free..."

A stiff looking rag doll was spinning on a large music box in the center of the main stage of the circus- she was dancing around as if she was nothing but a decoration on the mechanical contraption.

Near her was a purple rabbit with a yellow light jacket on top of a seafoam green shirt and dark yellow pants. He was moving and dancing around as if under control of an invisible puppetmaster, "Truly Scrumptious~" He sang towards the doll despite how she never glanced his way and remained ever turning, "And if I may seem presumptuous..." He danced over to the mirrors attached to the music box and looked at himself like it was choreographed... until he paused and stared himself in the mirror as if he saw a flaw on himself.

"Turning around-" The doll's eye subtly wandered towards the rabbit and noticed what he was doing, she could tell the audience and the now nearby Caine, were becoming suspicious by the rabbit's actions, "-on this music box that's..." She waited until she rotated closer to him before jolting a tiny to ram his face into the mirror, making him stumble a bit and looked around.

There was laughing from the audience and the rabbit went back to singing, "Never... never... ever..." He wandered back in front of the doll's music box where he saw a hand close to his and he couldn't but use his puppet like movements to get close to trying to give her hand a kiss.

"Wound by a key." Her moved upwards quickly, slapping one of his ears lightly- causing more laughter from the crowd.

"Go away." She made sure her arms and head moved in a perfect, robotic motion as she spun and tried to ignore the blush that tinted her cheeks a little when she saw him try to kiss her hand.

"Yearning..."

"My heart beats so unruly..." The bunny placed a hand on his chest and had it move like a heartbeat.

"Yearning..."

"Because I love you truly..." He opened his arms wide as if to get a hug from the doll.

"While I'm..." The doll sent him a small look that told him to 'stop it'.

"Honest, Truly..." The rabbit hugged himself instead.

"Turning around and around." She suddenly became frozen, the music box no longer turning.

"I do." He halfway flopped downwards, the tips of his ears barely touching the ground.

Once the music ended and there was a roar of cheering amongst the crowd, Caine popped in between two, "...meet me in my office after the show..." He ordered the two of them silently, his eyes glowing a bit as the two of them gave a quick nod before running backstage.

The ringmaster looked up to the audience, "Weren't they wonderful, audience?!" Everyone in the stands cheered loudly, "Hope our next act, the jester can impress us all just as much!" He roused up the crowd, getting them excited for the new jester.

The rag doll and rabbit stared in horror from behind the currents as they heard the announcement of a jester. The doll had to grip the rabbit to keep herself from letting her mask fall, not when another character was so close by, "He got a new person..." She mumbled under her breath, her voice trembling as she watched Pomni make her way up to where the trapeze platform were, "...we have no net to catch her if she falls..." Her face paled, "Jax..." Her grip tightened.

Jax put a hand on hers and tightened it a bit, "Caine can control her, she'll be fine, Rags..." He murmured to her, his own eyes never leaving the sight as well. Especially now that the jester had begun her performance.

-----

Song used in the fic: "Doll on a Music Box" from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

[halogenwarrior]

Making this my own post since I worry it won't get reach as a reply (where I originally posted it):

Idea: going off of @ashcrowz post here: https://www.tumblr.com/ashcrowz/751958449972232192/moonpaws-if-shes-not-two-cats-and-one-wants-to - a lot of people are speculating the voice in Moonpaw's head will be her twin absorbed in the womb and will be evil, with some worries about playing into an evil alternate personality trope, my though is: what if the voice in her head is her absorbed twin but not evil at all, actually wants to be a medicine cat and never hurt anyone while the "main" Moonpaw is a proud warrior wannabe who is sometimes brash and cruel (think Leopardstar or Lionblaze type. The voice is often deeply dissatisfied with Moonpaw's morality and the mistakes she makes as a result. And the more mistakes Moonpaw makes the more the voice belittles her and tries to make her think she is worthless, because breaking down Moonpaw is the only way she would willingly cede control and let the voice have a chance of doing good and revolting against the Clans' violent ways that it hates. But Moonpaw of course, however much she might be flawed, is still a young cat who is steadily breaking down over being constantly reminded of her failings and told that it would be better if she was just replaced. Would be interesting to have the "perfect healer saint" character who, dealt a horrible hand in life in not even really able to be alive, can only do anything by being emotionally abusive and completely breaking her "sister's" self esteem goes into questions of what really makes a good person when a person can be amazingly good but be put in a situation where their only choice is doing something horrible or helplessness to watch the world's cruelties + personal misery, a lot more tragic and unique than just "the voice is EVIL and JEALOUS and that's all there is to it". Though if the Erins absolutely wrote this they would probably bungle it by making either Moonpaw or the twin portrayed as despised by the narrative and 100% wrong and to blame for everything...

[technologyculturedneo]

SOS: Poison In My Mind (Pt 1)

PLAYING NOW: Season 2 of SOS: AM I ALIVE

“We met in the worst circumstance possible, but yet, even if we had to meet in different circumstances, I’d still fall for you.”

SUMMARY. A series of events following the aftermath of the break in/hostage situation has everyone feeling tense. The Zhong family is torn with disappoints, from Yezi deciding that she wants to keep the rape baby, to Dae leaving the family wanting something else from her life. With months and years treading by, the family is met again in uncanny situations with the same old boys who can’t seem to get away from them.

PAIRING(s). Delinquent!Mark, Felony!Haechan, Boyfriend!Jeno, Brother!Renjun; Policeman!Jaemin, Jisung; Husband!Chenle, Boyfriend!Jaehyun X OC Dae, Yezi (original character)

GENRE. Angst. Longshot. Slow burn. Crime. Strangers to lovers. Smut (non-consensual/consensual). Family.

WARNINGS. Drugs abuse (Alcohol, smoking, marijuana, cocaine, heroin). Sexual content (consensual, child abuse, pedophile). Slow burn (unlike the first book filled with edge and action, here’s a more toned down and summary filled action after the aftermath, lots of convo.)

S2: EP1-7 The moment the judge hits the gavel, Dae unknowingly lets out a sigh of relief. Laying her head against her dad's shoulder, some tears pouring out of her eyes causing her to hiccup, sniff and fall into a breaking emotional state. Her dad, Chenle hugs her tightly. He feels such an overwhelming amount of pain. He doesn't even know what to say when he watches the police handcuff the boys and makes them line up against the opposite doors, preparing them for their new prison life.

Dae gets her head off his shoulder and with her eyes smudged in tears and nose running just as badly, her face red and voice barely above a whisper. "Dad, I can't breathe," She hiccups terribly struggling to say.

Chenle is attentive and assists her up as he navigates her outside of the Court room. With his arms around her shoulder, he walks with her steadily and his eyes peer around trying to find a specific door, which was right next to the court room. Entering into the room whereby his wife and Yezi are, his heart grows heavy upon seeing Yezi in a similar dreadful position crying her soul out.

Yezi upon seeing her dad gets up as well and runs into her dad's arms. Chenle holds tight, embracing them generously the same way when they cried that he and his ex-wife were splitting. His lips kiss the top of their precious heads just as his eyes shut by the overflow of tears bluring his vision. His daughters sadly crying only causes his heart more pain that as their father he couldn't protect them against the evil of the world. Chungdae, Chenle's wife gets up slowly and makes her way towards her family. She moves behind Chenle and back hugs him, her own tears building up.

Yezi and Dae stretch their arms in sync backwards to wrap around Chungdae. No matter how much she was reminded of being their step mum, no matter how much she fought with Yezi, no matter how much Dae was nice to her without actually allowing her to know her real feelings, and no matter how much Chenle tried to always make her feel a part of his family even though deep down she knew she had a long way to acceptance with the whole family, right now being here with them somehow feels like a new level of depth.

The fact that she cut her trip half way- once her plane landed and Chenle called her to tell her the details she booked the next flight back- and came to serve as support for the girls as well as her husband who continuously blamed himself. It's like she had unlocked a new sacred bound with each and every one of them- although it was because of a traumatic experience, she’s somehow happy to feel included in their suffering of the moment.

Chenle loved his kids, and as Chungdae loved his kids as her own only made him love her more. And right now, as Chenle has all the loves of his life around him- it only tears him down more. If only this was a much pleasant occasion instead of a horrifying one.

Meanwhile, in the courtroom similar feelings and emotions are being done. However, it's only directed at Renjun and his mum.

Renjun is an incoherent speechless dreadful mess as he’s plunged in tears. He wants to shout and cry out loud but he can't even express his overwhelming pain as his own physical state hurts him with every move he makes causing him so much discomfort. All he does is sink his head into his mother's shoulders and shudders as the tears furiously plunge out of his one good eye.

His mother with immense loving arms tightens her embrace- shielding him from the emotions of right now. Her scent sips into his nostrils and despite the ache, he appreciates this comfort which in all his life has always sought out for. The sincere and dear love of his mother. Her heart shreds due to how she failed to protect her son from the boy she gave birth to. Her eyes have sprinkles of water, and her head throbbing with the new forming headache from holding in a load amount of tears. From the moment she took in this lost little Chinese boy as her own son, for the first time in her dark miserable life she could say that she had hope. To see her hope of a son bearing his soul out for a crime he did not commit, stains her soul of feeling like a failure again. She failed with her first son. But right now, she didn’t want it to be the case of her second son. And so she holds in her voice of agony, of pain and whispers with strength. "You're going to be alright okay? I'm not mad at you. You did what was right and I swear it’ll all pay back some day. It looks dark now, but I promise you Renji that…everything will work out.” Her eyes let out some tears before she sniffs. “I promise that I’ll be waiting for you when you come out. Don't be scared my boy, be brave in there. Don’t let them break you. You are my hope and I know this world doesn’t deserve you, but come back to me in one piece okay? I love you so much Renji, so so much you have no idea. Just stay strong for me okay?"

“Okay,” Renjun hiccups out trying to hold it in but the devastation is too much to bear.

Standing in line behind Mark, Donghyuck watches vulnerably.

It pains and even hurts to see his mum in tears and wrapping all her love upon Renjun. Even when the guards break them apart and Renjun gets back in line behind him, he prepares himself for the hug that he knows his mum always gives. He's expecting for his mum's love and attention, even though she might be angry at him, Donghyuck knows that she always gave the best hugs of comfort.

But when she looks at him…

Donghyuck is only able to make out the look of humiliation. Disappointment. And so much sadness as though she’s failed with him. In her eyes that were so full of adoration and affection for Renjun, he gets her capital look of sadness as she covers her mouth and closes her eyes filled with tears and turns away.

Donghyuck sucks in a sharp breath, his glossy eyes stinging from how much tears he's holding back. He gets pushed out of the court room by the police and he follows them to a waiting room. Upon waiting they get taken in for their final prints. Still with cuffs around his wrists, he’s aggressively assisted in getting his finger prints inked and pressed on paper. He does his signature, gets a court mug shot and then initially given a see through plastic bag of a blue standard prison uniform. Mark gets the same color.

Yet, upon seeing Renjun walk out of the prints room with a bag of orange prison clothes… he can't hold in his tears. Renjun sits on the other side of the hallway but still in front of Donghyuck, when he sees that his older brother’s shoulders are sagged so low and he hears sounds of anguish, sounds of agony, does his heart remind him of how much he’s put up with Donghyuck. All he wanted was to be his brother’s friend and getting to know his brother. Unfortunately, trying to get to know his brother would mean becoming him and that’s not something Renjun ever wants again. And so, also silently he weeps again out of his one good eye.

Meanwhile Jeno and Mark have such emotionless looks towards one another. Unlike the other bags, Jeno’s see through bag had a green prison uniform. Mark is so distorted to reality and unfazed with his brother that when Jeno gets ushered out by a new guard he finds himself speaking. “Good luck bro,”

Jeno, in his own unfazed and worn-out actuality mummers. “You too.”

In honesty, for Jeno everything was one big blur. The fact that it was night and he was in the car with his brother, to somehow him waking up in a hospital 3 weeks later with minor burn patches just chaotically threw him off everything he knew as reality. And then he hears that he’s being charged with breaking and entering into a wealthy mansion. It’s the most absurd nightmare he’s ever woken up from- everything was one big drunken blur of memories popping up here and there, but he has no recollection of actually living in those memories. To say he was beyond confused was an understatement. He was just numb yet puzzled that all this happened. All he remembers is being drunk and waking up in a hospital bed weeks later.

The one thing he can remember lividly, was when he entered into the girl that he has admired, when he entered her room and saw his brother forcing her to mouth fuck his crotch- that felt like something he would never ever be able to forget. That is a spare moment that he can’t get out his head. So walking into a prison statement with the least amount of knowledge of why he’s being sentenced, Jeno sucks it up and follows.

Donghyuck can’t stop stifling his cry at this point. Even if his voice is low, Renjun and Mark can hear it. Although it’s awkward for Mark, for Renjun it’s a painful and pitiful reality that shit hits hard. Donghyuck’s eyes are shut, as painful reminders of how he not only disappointed his mother and brother, but he also proved Yezi’s words to be true. The words of her telling him how worthless he is. Because truly, he feels like a worthless, filthy, cheap, vain, unlucky, useless, pathetic, miserable and pain for his whole family.

Donghyuck is in tears and can't even say anything when they take Renjun away to his respective bus leading to the county jail center. Renjun can't even say anything when seeing Donghyuck's head hung so low as his shoulders shake and light sounds of grief in emotions are heard from him. In fact, in this moment where he looks at his brother…there’s a slight mounting anger of how he should’ve never tried so hard to get his approval in anything. Donghyuck never ever cared about him. And as he leaves the court and gets into his bus, a slowly fueling hatred grows in him.

It’s only left Donghyuck and Mark in the corridor as they wait for the arrival of their bus that would probably be filled with returning criminals going back to the same prison. At this point, Donghyuck knew the cycle all too well.

He knew that there would be new second time offenders, old gang cliques who committed hard crimes, gang members who’re coming in to deliver a message to one of their old boys in prison, crime offenders who somehow always get away with petty charges instead of life sentences and lastly the guys who had nowhere else to go but prison…and so committing a petty crime to be charged at least 5 years would satisfy their life- these were the people that Donghyuck knew were going to be with him. Donghyuck knew of the type of people he’d see again, and how ecstatic they’d be to see him. Prison life was his home. The only home that welcomed him with open arms every time, with ‘friends’, people who protected him, the officers who alarmingly treated him ‘well’ and the all-time shelter and food that was provided to him each and every day.

If anything, he should’ve been happy to be going back to a place of ‘rest’, but there’s a weight on his chest that’s anchoring him down, there’s a heavy burden on his shoulders that’s sinking him. The fact that it’s not a thought but it’s now his reality. He always joked that one of these days he’d come back as a rapist, but now the dawning weight of his reality sets him in such a dark hole. He has added onto his record something that once hurt his mother. He has added onto his record a pain that’s deep and unfathomable, something that would define him as an ‘experienced criminal’. Donghyuck shudders and blurts out another cry as he sinks his head in between his hands. His own mother couldn’t even stand to look at him. Donghyuck feels so shut out right now. Enraged at himself for being such a fuck up. He can’t believe that he crossed over to a side he’d never thought himself of crossing.

When he feels the harsh hand of the guard, he knows that this time as he’s going to prison it won’t be the usual years of rest, but instead a commencement time of guilt and punishment. He deserved punishment for all that he’s put his family through. For all that he’s put everyone that he has hurt through.

He sucks up his tears but keeps his head down with his jaws locked. Unlike getting in the bus and always going to the back and greeting the old timers who joyously call unto his name- he takes the front seat close to the window. Mark, not obliged to follow, feels in him that his partner in crime isn’t himself and so he takes a seat next to him after acknowledging some of the returning inmates. Mark seated beside Donghyuck feels uncomfortable but can only endure it. Donghyuck has his head against the window his head pining on him. It doesn't sit right with Mark and all he can do is lay his hand upon the ladders shoulder. He had no words because he didn’t understand why he was moping.

Donghyuck can't take his eyes off his mum as she stands outside waving her hand towards Renjun's bus. She's crying, holding onto some tissue papers and looking defeated. Donghyuck's eyes sting when he sees her crouching down still in tears.

She used to look at him like that. She'd cry for him like that. But now she can't even stand to look at him.

As the bus begins moving out the court parking, Donghyuck’s eyes unconsciously catches onto the news crews and reports all withering and surrounding the court as they try to get to the ‘Zhong’ family. His eyes don’t mean to, but they go to the girls who are rushed into such a high class, superior and posh maroon looking car.

It all started with a car, an envious yet spiteful car that seemed in hands reach and just for him. A car that was a whole Pandora’s box. If only Donghyuck could go back in time, to the time that stupid spoilt car carrying those fucking high social brats passed his own rusty faded red car, if only he could go back and peal his eyes off that car and to his brother who only wanted to go home. He would’ve never lusted over the car if he knew what he knew. He would turn to his brother and agree to just take him home- far away from the lives of the rich people. Far away from the life of chaos. And far away from the life he was living.

•

After a decent and mouth sovereign dinner in a luxurious five-star restaurant, Chenle and his family quietly went back to their respective rental guarded home whereby their new life would begin.

Sitting around the living room, Chenle explains that the insurance company that insured their house will finish in about a month's time. But he wanted to know whether or not they felt safe moving back into that neighborhood or wanted a new place.

It's basically nonnegotiable for them all as they all want a change of scenery. Ever since the incident, the Zhong family were the communities most talked about family for (not only) the outrageous verdicts that the boys got, but also for how 4 lowlifes managed to break into such a secured residential area and well-guarded home. Few of the neighboring families moved out immediately, while others were already preparing to move out, most enhanced their security, so it only made sense that the people in the area didn't feel safe and were contemplating on leaving or staying.

"Another thing we need to address," Chungdae starts, laying her hand on Chenle’s knee, sensing his hesitancy. "Yezi,"

"Yes?" Yezi nervously squeezes Dae’s hand having an idea of what the conversation would be about.

Chungdae silently sighs looking at Chenle before focusing her attention on her step daughter, who had sadly and traumatically become pregnant but had said nothing ever since the confirmation at the hospital. "It's been a month and some days since you've been pregnant-"

"I know." She counts the days every day. "Can we not talk about-"

"And every time we bring it up you try to turn it down. Chungdae has got some pills you can take now to neutralize the thing moving in your stomach. Tomorrow is Wednesday and we’re taking you to the hospital to get it removed." This time Chenle speaks, his voice not too welcoming as if he has an idea of what his 16-year-old daughter is thinking. "If you're thinking about keeping it you can forget it."

Yezi's head strikes up at her dad with wide saddened eyes. She sits on the edge of her seat with prompt and firm lips. But the thing that speaks most to Chenle is the look of fortitude, of resilience of some sort of willpower. "Dad-"

"Absolutely not.” Chenle springs back in distaste of high disgust. “Not in my house. You are not-”

“Dad you didn’t even give me a chance to speak-”

“Speak about what?” Chenle’s got his eyes bulging out of his socket. “This is not a discussion we’re having. You’re going to remove-”

“No!” Yezi suddenly cries back and gulps back holding in her tears.

“You can't tell me you've been seriously thinking of keeping that damned thing-"

"Dad-"

“Yezi that’s enough!” Chenle never yells, but when he does it catches everyone off guard. “Have you gone stupid?”

“Honey-”

“No have you gone mad? Retarded maybe? Yezi this is not up for discussion. You will not have that thing grow in you!”

“Why? It’s my-”

“Have you fucking gone retarded-”

“Dad this is my child!” It takes Chungdae holding Chenle back by his arm when he shoots up from the couch, while Dae holds tightly onto Yezi’s hand when Yezi bursts out in franticness. The tears now streaming out. “I’m not going to remove it. It’s mine.”

“Yezi,” Chenle and Chungdae both call out in a morphed sadness filled with disappointment.

"Yezi," Dae calls in bafflement. Ever since the accident, they hadn’t left each other’s side. Their bound had never ever been like this before, whereby they hardly spoke to each other yet felt distant in their experiences- but at the same time they wanted to protect each other, they wanted to love each other more than ever. But not even Dae could understand the sudden twist and burst of emotions from her little sister. "You want to keep it?" Dae asks quietly.

With the question hanging in the air and all ears attentive to Yezi, while their brains are in astonishment of the seemingly new revelation, Yezi presses her hands to her stomach and nods her head slowly. There's a long pause in the air causing Yezi's heart to beat rapidly and she's afraid to look up. She already knows what her dad will say, what Chungdae will say, what Dae will say, but she doesn't care. “I want to keep it, I need to keep it.”

There’s such a strong tensed silence that moves around the room. Chenle’s chest is mounting with such boiling anger when looking at his daughter.

“Why?” Chungdae asks in confusion, distress and fear especially when feeling her husband’s hand bulging. “Yezi-”

“No.” Chenle's ‘no’ serves as a mind snapping effect for Yezi.

She looks up to her dad with tears in her eyes, her jaw trembling. “Dad.”

“No.” Chenle is firm when saying his final verdict. It doesn't matter that Yezi full of sadness attempts to speak- Chenle doesn’t want it. "No. You are not keeping it. No daughter of mine will-"

"But dad-"

"I said no Yezi." Chenle shakes his head again trying to calm himself down. "You're not keeping it. You're not keeping that bastard of a child. You are going to take the pills now and tomorrow-"

"Dad I'll never forgive myself for killing it-"

"Forgive yourself? You're not at fault here." Chungdae adds with confusion seeing that Yezi shakes her head and seems determined. "And it's not alive yet, you're not killing it. You're removing it."

"Mum please." Yezi sits on the edge of her seat looking desperate. “I can’t do it. I can’t go on with allowing this little thing in me to die. I don’t have the heart to go through with the abortion. I would never forgive myself-”

“For fuck- Yezi!” Chenle can’t believe what he’s hearing. From the corner of the room, the little Daegal is quivering and shivering by the uproar of Chenle’s voice. “No-”

“Dad you’re not carrying this so you don’t understand.” Yezi finds herself breaking free from Dae’s hand and standing up with her arms covering her womb. “You don’t understand how long it took me to get to this point. I’ve thought about it ever since I found out. I will keep the baby. Not because I am excited to have it, but because I don’t want to kill it. I cannot square it with my conscious. It's also a living being and has a right to life, and I shouldn't decide whether it gets to live or not. I don’t have that right and it’s heartless and inhumane even thinking about taking away-"

As Yezi hits nerve after nerve Chenle is so close – a pinch away from forcing his daughter to have no choice, the words that she’s saying only make his blood boil. Her words render Chungdae silent as her thoughts are suddenly on her past mistakes. Not only Chungdae, but Dae as well knows that whether it was intentional or not Yezi was hitting on and referring to the reason her parents split and that was because of Chungdae and her ‘babies’.

“Do you know what pain I’m feeling at just the thought of giving it up-”

Dae can feel the tension slowly rising in the room, and if Yezi didn’t choose her words correctly then most assuredly she would be in big trouble. “Yezi-”

But Yezi’s already so hot with her words and can’t back down as she speaks over Dae shaking her head. “What if I’ll never get a chance like this again? Huh? Living with you and Chungdae is proof that after so many abortions- I won't ever get a chance like this”

Chungdae feeling jabbed shakes her head. “That’s not- Sweety please let’s not-”

“You can't even give birth anymore because of all those abortions you’ve had while having an affair with my dad behind my mum’s back. You both took the right away and now you want me to make that same fucked up decision as-”

She’s not expecting the rough hand of her dad gripping onto her wrist and dragging her with such force and strength. “Honey please-” Chungdae has to suck up her pride and wipe her eyes when trying to follow Chenle.

“Where are those pills?”

“Honey please let’s just sit and talk-”

“No.”

"No?" Chungdae follows rapidly behind Chenle who busts opens into different drawers around their room while Yezi yells for her dad to let her go. “Honey please, she’s crying and-”

“Where are the pills?!”

Chungdae is taken aback at Chenle shouting when directing his attention to her.

“This is my daughter! There’s no way in hell will I ever allow her to even consider keeping that thing in her womb! It’s not hers and we’re not raising that thing!” Chenle’s jaw locks when his eyes take notice of the sullen look plastered over her features.

“That ‘thing’ was in my womb too, and I…” The look of guilt coats Chungdae’s face, dampening his mood when seeing how teary and weary eyed she gets. At this point it’s by instinct how he always tries to wipe the tears off her eyes before they fall off. Letting go of Yezi instantly just so he can attend to Chungdae only leaves Chungdae in a remorseful crying mess as she covers her face with shame. “If I hadn’t had all those abortions then maybe we would’ve been… I would’ve been able to give you the child you wanted-It’s all my fault, I’m sorry honey-”

“No, no.” Chenle’s voice simmers down into a low tenderly octave when hearing how broken and crushed his wife’s cry is. He walks carefully towards her, his hands holding onto her shoulders looking just as vulnerable. “It wasn’t your fault. Don’t do that baby, don’t,” Straightaway he wraps his arms around her securing her from the emotions that have resurfaced. “Baby… we made that decision t-together. It’s not your fault.. You didn’t…I don’t blame you at all my love. Please, don’t cry,”

“Yezi’s right-” Chungdae whimpers, not being able to stop the tears as well as remove her hands from her blotched crying face.

“She’s not right, don’t listen to her. She will not disrespect you like that and-”

Chungdae shakes her head, knowing exactly what Yezi meant. Chenle would never understand what it’s like to live with that conscious memory of having done an abortion, only for it to affect everything years later. He would never get it because he refused to come to terms with the fact that she took away the one thing he was really excited about, and that was to have kids with her.

The first few times when they found out she was pregnant was in their mutual decision to remove baby after baby in hopes of Chenle’s former wife not to find out, but after the cat got out the bag and Chenle came clean to his wife of his affair did Chungdae unintentionally decide to remove the baby thinking that this would’ve been the last time she’d see him ever again. Little did she know that it would’ve been the last time she’d ever be able to conceive again.

Her tears are all over the place, loud enough for Dae to even hear. Upon seeing Yezi frantically walk towards the door- Dae stops her. “That was a low blow Yezi. Did you really have to?”

“But it’s true.”

“Just because it’s true it doesn’t give you the right to just bring stuff like that up. You know Chungdae is sensitive to -”

“She’s sensitive because she fucked up-”

“You think you’re not being a fuck up right now?” Dae yanks Yezi by her arm when she opens up the main door. Forcing Yezi to look at her they both look at each other intensely. “Look, I probably don’t have much of a say in you and wanting to keep it but don’t drag mum down-”

“You keep forgetting she’s not my mum,” Yezi rips her arm away from Dae. “And plus. I already spoke to mum- our real mum. She said I can keep it.”

Dae has a puzzled almost annoyed face. “You’ve been talking to her? Yezi do you even know-”

“Just because she used dad, and you didn’t get along with her doesn’t mean she’s not my mum anymore. She’s still a mother to me, I love her more than I ever did you and dad, she’s still my mum and she gave me enough clarity to decide for myself.” Yezi doesn’t look hurt, but her eyes do look somber upon talking about her mother.

Dae can only try to breathe in as she finds the right words to say despite her anger slowly rising. “You’re forgetting that she’s the one who cheated first and asked for that divorce not dad. She’s the one who left us for her new free life. She didn’t take us with her because she didn’t want us- so what could she possibly tell you about child birth that would make you consider even keeping that thing? The mother that I know would’ve never even allowed you to keep a rapist’s child.”

“It’s not a rapist’s child, it’s my child. And do me a favor, stop pretending like I'm the fuck up. I know that Mark did something to you too.” And with that Yezi opens up the front door and bangs it. She has no real destination when leaving the house- all she knows is that she needed to clear her head. It’s past 10pm and she doesn’t even-

“Going somewhere?”

She stops, being startled for a second. Standing by a black vehicle, she spots the Officer Na Jaemin. “Officer Na,” Her gaze being fazed by his presence. “What’re you doing here?”

Jaemin simply stares at the girl. “Patrol work. Your father wanted tight security while being here in the rental house.”

“Tight security by yourself?”

Jaemin shifts his weight a little displaying the black tinted window of the car. He knocks twice on it, causing the window to roll down displaying a shy smiling Officer Jisung. “Yes?”

“Jisung and I are here, there’s two at the back, two on each side, and two at the gates. We’re tight if the time calls for it.” Jaemin points out. “Once again, are you going somewhere? If so we’ll escort you.”

Yezi shakes her head. “No, it’s fine.” Being pissed by the sudden securing of protection she walks back the path to the house but stops midway with a nonstop chaotic mind and walks back towards the Officers. Jisung’s window is rolled back up while Jaemin has his head down within his padded jacket. He blends in so well with the car being black and everything he has on being black- including his hair.

“Officer,”

He peeks up again, and Yezi can see that under his eyes there’s faint marks. He looks tired. “What.” He doesn’t seem the least bit interested in what she has to say, all that he wants to do is sleep.

Yezi however pants in and out looking like a fish caught in water. “I… I want to keep it. I want to keep the baby that’s growing in me.” Yezi’s eyes water. “But I don’t want anyone to hate me for it.”

Jaemin can stare as his ears adjust to the words coming out of her mouth. “You… Did you just say you want to keep it?” How old is she? It’s probably the reason she’s even outside, maybe she wanted a clear head to think better. And if so, Jaemin had to stop her because he was the wrong person for this type of conversation. “Should I call your dad?”

“No-” Yezi shakes her head before hanging it down with trembling lips.

“Look, I’m only 23. I’m a male. And I’m not a part of your family, so you can’t just tell me all these things,” There’s nothing that he could say that would be of any assistance to this girl who’s 16…7 years younger than him. However, when she doesn’t move and her shoulders shudder, he grows uncomfortable in his padded jacket and inwardly cusses. He was always the worst when it came to giving some sort of relief. He turns his head to the car just in time seeing Jisung look away.

After a long silence, it takes Yezi blurting out a little cry does Jaemin breathe out his nose and licks his lips looking at her. Yezi tries to contain herself by remaining silent and sniffs back her tears (which made Jaemin feel tight in place) while wiping the back of her sleeve over her eyes. She doesn’t look up, but her body turns around and she begins walking away. It only takes a few steps before Jaemin’s voice comes out. “I can listen.” He speaks out. “If you want to… talk,”

If she came outside, it’s because she most likely had an argument with her family. And the last place she probably wants to go is inside.

That makes her stop in her tracks, and ever so slowly she peers up into Jaemin’s eyes. He looks nervous and almost worried. Nervous to the point that he even stands straighter and gets his hands out his padded jacket. “I don’t think I’ll be of any use,” He shrugs his shoulders scratching the back of his head. “But, I can listen,”

Yezi turns her body around in a slow manner, her eyes are slightly teary but upon gazing into his sincere eyes does she fully turn her body around to face him.

“So,” Jaemin clears his throat uneasily. “You want… to keep it?”

“Yeah,” Her voice is low and shaky. “We were in the hospital with my mum and dad, and they did an ultrasound.” A gloomy look gets on her crestfallen face, but Jaemin’s eyes are on the watery glaze that coat her eyes making them crystal clear as if they’re twinkling. “On that screen I saw… this tiny little dot. This little pea in me is so small… when looking at it, I felt something come alive in me again. I remembered thinking that, I couldn’t protect myself, you know.” She sniffs and her hands gently cup her abdomen. “I fought and I really tried to stop him from touching me. I fought so hard and I tried. I tried but… there was nothing I could do. So looking at the screen, seeing that there was something moving in me, that this tiny ball was moving around as if it already had life… I knew that even if I couldn’t protect myself, I could protect that baby, because it’s my baby. It’s coming from inside of me, this little pea will somehow become something, will somehow bare it’s own life.”

Jaemin blinks slowly no expression on his face except an honest concern for the girl. “You want to keep the very thing that’s come from something so painful?”

“I don’t even like kids that much, but I don’t want to remove this baby in me. This doesn’t feel like the trauma of rape…but this is me protecting this baby,”

“Protecting it from what?” Jaemin whispers. “What’s your reason for keeping it?”

“It’s the fact that it’s a life-”

“It’s not a life,” Jaemin lowly inputs making Yezi shake her head.

“It’s in me Officer Na, I can feel that there’s something in me.” She breaths out. “Just because it’s a product from something so painful… doesn’t give me any right to take away something as precious as life from it, that’s not even born. I… Do I really need a reason in order for me to keep it? Why do I need a reason that will be good enough for anyone to listen? This…” Yezi’s eyes flattering with tears make Jaemin alert in getting his back off the car and stepping forward to the girl. “What would make me any different from a person sitting in a prison cell because they murdered another person? Murdered another human being?”

“That doesn’t count,”

“The only difference is that taking an unborn baby’s life away is somehow legal. That’s not fair.- other people can get rid of it if they want, but why is it wrong for me to want to keep it?”

“Hey,” Jaemin’s hesitant and alert when the tears won’t stop falling from her eyes. He carefully lays his hand on her shoulder and clears his throat. “Hey, don’t cry about it.”

“I just wanted some air, I just wanted a break. I don’t want my dad to take this little baby away from me,” Her tears don’t stop pouring out, resulting in Jaemin hesitantly stepping forward and wrapping his arms around the girl. He sighs quietly when she takes another step forward and wraps her arms around his torso crying out.

“It’s okay, just cry it out,” Jaemin finds himself soothing and consoling her. “Hopefully everything will be okay,” He mummers out.

But 3 months later…prior to what Jaemin said, everything was not okay. In fact, things kept falling apart.

The only thing that’s been uplifting or of any sort of good news, is the media outlets dying down and Yezi being able to continue her homeschooling with Doyoung without getting bombarded by some news crew. Another good thing that Yezi kept looking forward to is surprisingly her new ‘friendship’ with the Officer Na Jaemin. At this point, with her sister turning into somebody else, and Chungdae becoming more motherly towards her, the only person she would truly and freely chat to about everything falling apart and a way to clear her mind was Jaemin. For the most parts he only listened and barely looked like her cared, but Yezi knew better because he’d always be ready to listen to her, and Yezi found it caring that aside from getting Boba coffees for himself and Jisung, he’d also get for her as well (and sneak in some of her pregnancy cravings that Chungdae wouldn’t approve of).

But right now, it’s 5pm in the afternoon and already she can hear the back and forth arguments from her dad and Dae.

Lately, it’s become a habit of her dad and older sister fighting back and forth. Dae found refuge in going clubbing with her friends, getting wasted, getting drunk and coming back home dumb out of her mind, out of her senses... maybe it was her way of dealing with the terrible situation she faced. Dae, under the overwhelming pressure of everything; dropping out of college, being forced to work with her dad, to getting intense nightmares about being sexually assaulted that night by Mark, to getting pressured from her friends to let loose and party with them- to Dae ultimately deciding that her life is nothing but one big joke.

Slowly, right before their eyes, Dae was becoming an addict to a lifestyle that was highly frowned upon in their family. The once head strong girl of the family was crumbling and numbing her senses to intoxicating alcohol….and worst of all drugs.

And so the days go by, with Chungdae and Yezi growing their bond through their mutual love and interest for the coming baby. Going to the hospital together, seeing the ultrasound in high-frequency and hearing sound waves of the baby’s heartbeat create in Yezi a desire to keep pushing despite the pain she feels in her heart of her family falling apart. The house felt so lonely, and reminds Yezi of the first few days of how it was like when their mum left them. The house was void without a motherly touch until Chungdae came around. And up till now, Yezi without a doubt aspires to be the light that Chungdae is, smiling despite the pain and remaining strong for everyone.

Chungdae comforts Chenle whenever he lays in bed with her, she comforts Yezi in all times whenever Yezi calls, and she tries so desperately to be there for Dae- who has completely shut down. It’s hard to believe that Dae is her sister, she’s become unrecognizable in the family. It doesn’t help that slowly she started looking like a stranger, skinny form from all the intake of cocaine and alcohol, shaved eyebrows, dyed bleach blonde hair, cutting her hair so short, piercings and a slow growing tattoo kink all over her arms.

6 months later, still with their new house being built and them still living in the rental house Yezi thought their situation would’ve calmed down. However, it just got worse.

“And she keeps sleeping with random guys in the house. I feel bad that I can’t do anything to even help her out,” Yezi mutters while eating on a secret pack of chocolate balls that Jaemin bought. Jaemin, leaning against the car while watching Yezi (who is seated on the hood of his car) and dipping his fingers in the pack of chocolate balls while listening to her.

“Do you still speak to her?”

“It’s hard to,” Yezi responds. “She’s barely in the house, and when she’s in the house she’s occupied with some boy locked up in the room- but it’s only for a moment before mum or dad barge in and she storms out,”

“Damn,” Jaemin mutters. “Your parents must be the most stressed people in that house right now.” Jaemin acknowledges.

Despite not being on duty of being on night patrol, he’d always come for his weekly chats with Yezi. In some way, he ordained himself as her therapist. Maybe it’s because he wanted to simply be of help to the girl, but in some distorted way…he enjoyed having a ‘friend’ in Yezi. It was odd calling their late night talks as some sort of stress relieve, but Jaemin felt that there was no other way to describe his new found friendship with her. He didn’t have any friends aside from Jisung, but yet when it came to Yezi he found it easy to be around her and just not try to force anything. All he had to do was listen, and she’d do the rest. It became interesting when she’d do the same for him and allow herself to listen to all he had to say.

“Speaking of which, any progress with your dad?” Jaemin asks.

“It’s been months since I last spoke to him. It feels even awkward being in the same space as him. Even if there is an issue between us, I still believe that as a healthy parent he’ll discuss the problem openly with me. Silence is not a solution, but it somehow sums up my relationship with him now.” Yezi mutters and shrugs her shoulders. “He doesn’t even look at me,”

“I’m sorry about that,” Jaemin says sincerely.

“Mum says I should just give him time, that he’ll come around. But I doubt it. Whereby I would talk to him day and night, all we do now is say good morning and good night, at times we go a full day without even greeting each other.” Yezi sighs and puts her hand on her stomach, which was a healthy looking bump after 6 months. “I’m just afraid that the day I give birth to my child, my dad will- oh my god.” Yezi’s eyes grow in brightness her hand quickly pressing and feeling onto her stomach. “Officer Na-”

Jaemin is alarmed and panicked by the smile on her face. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Feel it,” Yezi’s mouth is left agape as the wondrous joy surrounds her. Jaemin doesn’t even need to put his hand on her belly to know that it’s kicking. The way her stomach flamboyantly moves creates a smile to grow on his face. “Feel it,” Yezi urges as her mouth grows wider in joy. “Oh my god, look,”

Jaemin is hesitant when lifting his hand since he sees that even the layer of the shirt is moving up and down from the bumps on her stomach. She’s not even focused on him, but Jaemin’s smile is radiant when seeing how happy she is. The only times he’s seen her happy was whenever they’d talk about the baby- and seeing how her face lights up makes him drawn to her smile.

“Look, look, look,” She presses her shirt down so that her bump is revealed more and so that Jaemin can see how flamboyantly the belly bulges are- the baby kicking or punching and being free with the belly of it’s soon to be mother.

“Wow,” Jaemin chuckles. “That’s a boy right?”

“I don’t know yet,” Yezi smiles and looks up to Jaemin. “Feel it,”

Jaemin lifts his hand up to her stomach and wonders where he should put it on, but then Yezi points to a spot and Jaemin gently lays his hand down. He doesn’t press or remove his hand when in a flash where his hand is that’s where he feels several bulges popping out- beating him. “My fucking soul- Doesn’t that hurt?” Jaemin is startled in shock but laughs nervously when Yezi starts laughing.

Chenle, from his room on the second floor carefully looks out the window when hearing his child laugh. He felt the most pain in him for neglecting his children. Lately, he’s fallen on his path of drinking more wine than he should. He couldn’t help it. He had two daughters who were out of his reach now, and there was nothing he could do to bring them back to him. And just like now, he can only stand and watch from afar how one laughs, while the other is nowhere to be seen but is for sure having a good time.

“Hey,” Chenle doesn’t shift his eyes off of Yezi’s smile. Even when Chungdae wraps her arms around his waist and lays her head on his shoulder. “You know it’s not too late to reconcile with her,”

Chenle sighs and closes his eyes and leans on the window frame as he lifts his arm around Chungdae’s shoulders. “I don’t think she’d want to reconcile with me,”

“What are you talking about honey, you know she’d love to talk to you,” Chungdae whispers while looking up to Chenle. “It’s all she ever talks about. About if you’ll ever forgive her,”

Despite Chenle respecting Yezi’s decision by not interfering in a forceful manner, he believed that silence between them is the only way.

“You know if she was somehow pregnant with someone she knows and wanted to keep the child at this age, I wouldn’t be as hard, but this… It’s an omen. A bastard’s child.” Chenle whispers only for Chungdae to lay her head on his shoulder.

“I know, but a child isn’t an omen,”

Chenle shakes its’ head. “Forget what the media is saying, that bastard child will grow up and will look just like the person who raped her. How do you think the child will feel knowing it’s a product of rape?”

“How do you think the child will feel in a house that’s unwelcoming?”

“It doesn’t belong here,” Chenle whispers. “It’s difficult to wrap my head around her wanting to give birth to that damned child.” He mutters and opens his eyes looking outside again. When he hears another loud laugh from her and the Officer Na rapidly removing his hands and flapping them, a meek smile grows on Chenle’s lips as he whispers. “When she was still in the womb, she’d kick like crazy. It terrified the shit out of me,”

“She needs you the most right now honey,” Chungdae whispers back before turning her gaze outside.

“And I need my daughter back too, but it’s clear she’s not coming back,” Chenle mummers. “That girl right there is going to be a mother to a bastard child, and I don’t think I want to be a part of that life.”

And so it is. The 9th month mark hitting on the calendar alerting Yezi to being ready for any day that her surprise child would come out. She’s saddened that both her dad and Dae are nowhere near her during those days. The new year passes and days progress with Yezi, barely being able to walk with her stomach on full display of the big pregnancy she has. While being small- despite the little weight she gained, she still looked so young and to think she’d bring in life to the world encouraged her to carry on.

February comes along with Yezi getting nervous that she’s not going into labor even when the month is close to ending. Already being worried and terrified, even when sitting on top of Jaemin’s car and expressing her worry- she’s not expectant at all when feeling wet and water dripping from her uterus. “Jaemin?” She nervously calls while having her eyes wide open.

“What? What’s wrong? Yezi, calm down,” Jaemin doesn’t know what’s going on when her face is drained of blood, but when she struggles to get off the car and holds unto the bottom of her stomach- looking shitless scared Jaemin takes a wild guess to know; “Don’t tell me it’s time now? Is it time?”

Yezi can’t speak or produce coherent words when she squeezes her legs together and bends trying to hold under her belly trying to maintain the weight that feels like it’s going to fall out. “Mum! Jaemin call mum! Mum! Oh mu god! Oh my god! Mum it’s coming out!” She implores when the pain kicks in her stomach.

With Chenle not being in the house and Chungdae not knowing how to drive, is panicked when hearing Yezi crying out for her life. Jaemin thankfully is alert and eager to assist when taking both Chungdae and Yezi in his car driving them. Yezi is on the verge- panting and moaning in pain in sweats and looks like any time soon she’ll faint. Chungdae is panicked and in heats of trying to calm down while also telling Yezi to breath and relax. Thankfully even despite the roads being hectic, Jaemin uses his siren and police advantage to cut the stop signs and traffic lights trying to get as fast as he can to any hospital nearby as the one they retained to was too far. It’s close, with Yezi almost collapsing in the backseat does Jaemin eventually get to a hospital carrying Yezi and lunging to the doors.

Triumphantly, the nurses don’t give them any problems and instantly assist when seeing the blood staining her pants and Yezi crying out for her dear life. Chungdae is inside the hospital room with Yezi, while Jaemin is outside reminiscing on such an experience. He’s never felt as heavy weighted as he did and hearing as well as seeing Yezi succumb to pain terrified him.

Jaemin is awakened by a jolly nurse who comes out with all smiles. “It’s a girl.”

Yezi, at 1 a.m. on a Sunday morning of late February, almost having driven herself to the brink of death when assertively pushing out of her tiny body- weighing 5 pounds and 8 ounces (2,500 grams) a beautiful miniature and petite baby girl.

Yezi is in heaps of sweat, her legs shaking in pain and uterus throbbing yet a gleeful and prideful smile lights up her entire face even when she cries after holding onto the little baby girl in her arms. She can’t stop crying for the reasons of both joy and sadness. The little, healthy, bundle of radiance in the baby girl shines so bright and takes away her family not being present. Yezi can’t believe her eyes. A tiny little thing with eyes pressed close and body rigid yet having it’s arms out and gripping onto her hair only overwhelms her, and the joy spreading all over her makes her cry blissfully.

“My baby.” Yezi whispers upon kissing the top of the fragile little head of the baby girl. “Oh my god she’s so tiny.” Yezi cries holding tightly onto the baby- and even in return as the nurses gently try to take her away to clean her up- do her tiny little fingers grip onto Yezi’s hair crying when they try to pull her away. The scene is surreal and makes Yezi cry even more.

No amount of happiness that Yezi has ever felt in her life can ever top this moment of paradise and bliss.

“Everything went well,” Chungdae smiles with tears running down her face, while watching the nurses take care of the baby and the doctors closing Yezi’s uterus. “It’s a baby girl,”

Chenle despite not being present still feels in his heart pain for the departure of his daughter upon the new arrival of her daughter. “I’m happy they weren’t any complications,” But despite it all, he still smiles when Chungdae speaks so highly and positive of the baby.

While Chungdae chats with Chenle in a peaceful manner she laughs when watching the nurses change and hand the baby to Jaemin who’s panicked at how Yezi passes out with a smile on her face.

Meanwhile, downtown (2 a.m.) in a local club that’s drowning its customers with music, Dae grinds her body friskily all over Hendery’s toned body blurring out the world around her. Ever since she walked in partly sober, all the way till she heavily inducted herself in the drinks and stashed drugs Hendery had- did she feel as though she was being watched.

Not paying mind to it, her and Hendery take it over to the co-ed bathroom having a rash and messy quickie with both of them barely conscious of their actions. Dae is sloppy when sucking off Hendery and Hendery is lacking when it comes to thrusting with power- but they’re both so high that they barely care and yet still cum to the thoughts of sexual pleasure and having a good time. They’re drunk and high out of their mind when returning back to the dance floor to have another go at wasting their lives away.

Jeno, being sober and cleaning on the counter after the spilt drinks of the dozens of intoxicated bodies, finds it hard to believe that the girl he’s looking at is the same girl he had a crush on. As time goes by, his eyes are only hooked to her in uneasiness as she’s not in her right senses and doing things that he’d never thought she’d do. From grinding with one too many men, to making out with anyone that puts their lips on her, to some point even groping and gripping on her like a ragdoll- Jeno can only watch in shock that this lady with short bleached out blonde hair, bright red bra and tight exotically short red leather skirt, dancing her life away is supposedly the same person that he saw in court 1 year ago.

There’s no way this was that same girl, there’s no way this unhealthy looking skimpy dancer is Dae. There’s just no way.

He was just in prison for 12 months, yet upon coming out and managing to get a job as a cleaner in a bar- he’s shocked out of his mind at how much a year can change a person. He only started working some weeks ago, but the moment his eyes landed on Dae and he began seeing her every single night at the club.

And for 2 weeks of Dae not being in the house, and Yezi being discharged and being the happiest she can be when being around her child, no one can take away her joy- not Dae’s messy life, not her father’s absence and lack of response to her- nothing can take the smile off her face. Even when her own baby cries.

“Areum you’ve got the most gorgeous smile, I have ever seen in my entire life, so tell me why, why are you crying so much? Is it because you don’t like your nappy being changed?” Yezi playfully plays with her child while changing the pampers and applying the medicine on her baby’s umbilical cord. Despite the baby girl, Areum crying, Yezi still coo’s cutely and playfully plays with her child while hurriedly changing her and giving her new pampers.

Chenle, who can’t stand the wails, goes into his room where Chungdae is ironing the baby’s clothes. “The baby’s crying.” He proclaims in irritation.

“Be a grandfather and help your daughter,” Chungdae sneakily answers with a mischievous smile. “Come on honey, there’s a first time for everything.”

Chenle despondently rolls his eyes and walks out the room going to the living room continuing to watch the news informatics while he works. He puts the volume louder blocking out the sounds of the whining crying child. In the room, Chungdae can only chuckle as she finishes ironing and walks back to Yezi’s room and coo’s. “Oh oh oh oh oh, why is my Areum crying? Why is my beauty beauty little girl crying huh? Does she want to be warm? Does she want to be warm?”

Truly speaking, this child, Areum brought a wide smile to her face. There’s a first time for everything, and helping Yezi look after her child felt like such a huge privilege for her. She never had this opportunity of caressing and even holding onto a baby- but yet Yezi gave her that integrity and honor of being there as a mother to her child. Chungdae more than anything loved the idea of having children, but when she found out that she was unable to, it crushed her. But now, being a premature grandmother gave her a glimpse into the life of what it’s like having a child. And she so badly wanted to have this experience with Chenle. Which is why when Yezi nervously questions, “Is he mad?”

Her answer is always. “Leave him, he’ll come around sooner or later. He can’t be too angry at our little Areum, hm,” Chungdae brushes her face on the little baby’s belly causing the dressed baby girl to squirm in delight and joy. “Look at that smile, look at that smile, my baby, my little Areum,”

Chenle shakes his head when for a spilt second the silence that consumes the living room from the pause break on tv, Chenle hears both the ladies dumbing down their intellect to speak in foreign baby voices and act cute.

Having the full support of her mother, Yezi is at peace when living her life around the house. Not only does she feel the weight and responsibility of being a mother, but she gracefully embodies and embraces a whole set of accountabilities. When waking up next to her baby, she’s always reminded of how she so badly wants to change her life and make sure that she’s a good, fit, role model and mother for her child. It pushes her to study to the best of her ability. She wasn’t born with a smart brain, but she has been applying herself and trying. And in the same way the nurses cared for her during her whole stay at the hospital, she also wanted to be a nurse who’d help people.

It seemed laughable at first, but when talking with Doyoung (her tutor) and he encouraged her to pursue her growing passion- her life seemed to be heading in a tremendously great path. Every day her face glowed brighter because of her Areum who would always look at her with the most caring of smiles. Her smile reminded her so much of Dae.

But Dae is different now. Everything about her moved differently, her brain started working inversely, even her words weren’t giving life but breaking down and slowing down her speech, her posture was altered, her eye contact was unalike and her lips were always dry, even when she’d lick them they’d always turn white and cracked rapidly. It’s like her sister was morphing into something else, and sadly it wasn’t even a transitional phase, it was a reality that Dae couldn’t escape and Yezi’s heart was in pain seeing her sister like this, every day, without even knowing what she could do.

“Why won’t you let me see her?” Dae asks. This wasn’t her loving sister anymore- this was a corpse living in her sister’s body. And there’s no way she’d allow for a skeleton with no soul to see her baby.

“She’s sleeping and I don’t want to wake her up,” Creating excuses and avoiding her sister has become such a huge burden for Yezi.

“Stop lying!” Dae yells and alarms Yezi. “You’re ashamed of me and don’t want me near your fucking child! Who cares anyway, she’s nothing but a pathetic resemblance of the fucker who raped you! You bitch. You dumb fuck always refusing me to see that fucker-” Yezi holds her ground when watching her sister break down all types of slurs. She turns around when hearing her baby crying in the room and ignores Dae shutting the door in her face just as Dae barks louder and emits all types of curses. “She’s also a huge fuck. She’s gonna rob houses, take advantage of people, she’s gonna hate- just like I hate you-”

“Dae? No, stop it.” Chenle holds onto Dae, but Dae thrusts her arms off her father and pushes him back.Dae shuts her room door still slurring out. Chenle shakes his head, and turns to Yezi’s door.

He carefully knocks on it and moments later, Yezi opens it up cautiously, but when seeing her dad she opens the door a little bit wider. “Are you okay?”

Yezi nods her head gulping down a little lump. Chenle nods his head looking in the room towards the bed where the child was, and after looking at her for a bit he nods his head again and walks off.

Not a minute later, Dae opens up her room door before running out the house in the shortest black mini skirt and nothing on but a leopard bra. That's her breaking point. The truth is, she began drinking in hopes to forget the horrible dreams she'd have of 'that night'. But as the dreams never went away, she turned to drugs and even sexual acts with other people, hoping that it would make her forget. But she never forgot. It was always in her head. Her family wouldn't understand. She wasn't even counting on it. The way they ignored Yezi, they'd ignore her too. So, she decides to live with friends instead. With no arms at savings reach, and no family to care for her, Dae dance alone while consuming the drugs every night. But that too also became numb to her. She just wanted to die now. She hated life.

Her prayer is answered when one night she gets to the club and begins dancing her life away before getting into a petty fight with Hendery (on who gets the bill), to storming out the club in a wobbly unsteady dizzy mess only to be hit by a speeding car with her whole lanky body flying up and knocked off her feet straight into the pavement ground with such crude force, rendering her knocked out and unconscious, almost like death.

They always say that the few seconds of death, you’ll get a 7 second flashback of your entire life flashing before your eyes. Dae is convinced its death because within the seconds of her death she sees a face… Mark made Dae feel numb to everything that night, even while she heard her sister crying and yelling when Donghyuck was raping her, Dae can only remember Mark cumming in her mouth and she felt so worthless and like a failure for her whole family-

Despite her mind in pure intoxication and dejection, Jeno from the club rushes out to the scene when seeing the car drive away after it swept Dae and knocked her off her feet and brutally against the floor. Jeno as he’s running to Dae on the floor, gets a flash memory of how he recalled seeing her the same way in her room. Despite being a rich girl, she seems to be caught in these situations of being lost and broken.

Instantly he cradles her up and looks left and right to see who can help, but there’s no one in sight or on the street or sidewalk- just the club full of ignorant dancing fools who ignore her and him outside. She’s breathing slowly, her face covered in blood pouring from her head, her eyes shut and body trembling rigidly. He pats her cheek lightly. “Come on, come on,” He begs before cursing when feeling her bleeding from her sides and he gets up on his feet with her weak body. He puts her on his back and makes sure her hands are around his neck while his arms are over her legs as he begins running as fast as he can.

Dae doesn’t even hear a thing when feeling the wind blow past her face- looking into Jeno’s side, her vision is blurry and all she can see is death. She hiccups but to Jeno that’s assurance that she’s alive and not dying.

“Stay with me Dae, just a little bit longer.”

Chenle can’t explain the discontent he’s been feeling with his new reality of life. In a normal life, he’s with his wife and two daughters who go to school, come home, talk about their future, ask him to buy things for them, eat all that they can eat, talk to him and ask for advice or even life lessons. In his dream he’s even gone as far to marrying them off to good men who have wealthy families and he knows that their generation will be able to sustain his wealth and inheritance. He even used to envision his grandchildren and how they’d be and how happy he’d be when dying of old age surrounded by his perfect family.

Yet in some distorted way, Chenle wakes up every day to his real reality being everything he loathes. Falling behind on work, being slow to building their new home because his mind is constantly wrapped around his daughters and all the chaotic decisions they’ve been making.

First it was Yezi and her bastard child, now it’s Dae and her spiraling life going into flames. Truly as a parent, he tried everything that he could to at least even get her to talk to him. Because that was always the first step into redemption; talking. But talking to Dae was impossible. His daughter had shut down in the worst way possible, and he didn’t know what to do.

The longest that Dae has stayed away from home was 4 days, but with a turn of events the longest that she’s stayed away from home is 2 weeks.

“Where could she be?” Chenle grows particularly concerned and troubled. He tries calling, texting but to his disappointment she doesn’t answer her phone or text back, it hardly gets to ‘seen’ and all calls go to voicemail. Chungdae tries calling, Yezi tries calling and emailing but still no answer. They call on her friends, especially Yang Yang, Winwin and Hendery who last claim that the last time they saw her she was in the club.

Before Chenle could take it a step further into filing and reporting her as a missing person, he felt bad as a parent and wondered where he went wrong. It came in an email, of Dae announcing her departure from his life. She made reference to how she didn’t want to carry on the family business, how she hated living her life like nothing happened especially after the aftermath of the accident. But what broke Chenle’s heart the most, was how she begged for him not to look for her or reach out to her, that she didn’t want him as a part of her life anymore, that she wanted to cut all ties with family and go her separate way.

The fact that this was a personalized email only sent to him and not her mother or sister, made Chenle believe that he was at fault for Dae coming to this decision. He didn’t even know where she was.

All he knows is that two months have passed and he hasn’t heard a word from her. If this is what she wanted to pursue then he didn’t want to hold her back.

That’s what he thought, but to Chungdae seeing her husband deteriorate and morph into a gloomy glum man made her miss the fluffy, peculiar, mischievous man she married. There was no light in her husband anymore. He just went to work, came home, ate in his study and fell asleep and repeated the same things everyday but like a droned out machine with no means of survival. Even when finally moving into their enlarged mansion and away from the rental home, he seemed the most distant.

The move in took about a week to settle in as the women were pampering around the house making it more suitable to their liking while at the same time modernizing it to their taste. Despite its beauty on the outside as well as inside, the house was very lonely for Chenle and he hated spending time with his family. And that was because of how they drifted apart. Chungdae and Yezi loved the baby, and Chenle didn’t.

That’s until 4 months later. He gets an off day and decides to spend it at home instead of the office. As predicted Yezi’s with her baby and Chungdae nearby Yezi. Chenle has the first layer living room all to himself and catches up on the latest informatics, however he gets up from his seat deciding to get his laptop and wor while watching the news. It’s on his way walking through the wide hallway does he get to the staircase and sees a little body bag on the floor dressed of a crocodile onesie.

It’s Yezi’s child. She’s on the top of the staircase, seemingly getting her way down by crawling on each step carefully. Chenle, like usual whenever seeing her, pays her no mind and climbs up the long flight of stairs and ignores her getting into his study room and getting his light weighing laptop as well as gadget bag before going back down the stairs. Expecting to see her still at the same spot his heart jumps out of his chest when seeing her on the last few steps but somehow tumbles and rolls down the remaining steps before smacking her head on the tiled ground.

“Shit-” He rushes down the steps and looks at the little girl who’s flat on the floor. He gets near her and gets stunned when she’s kissing the floor. Upon seeing him, she laughs joyously and crawls to sit up on the floor. He sighs in frustration. “Honey! Come get the baby.”

He walks past her and heads outside the backyard porch. He takes a seat on the veranda table with which had a serene view of his large backyard. Sometimes the thought of being rich made him feel better about his problems, as long as he had money he was okay to provide for himself any vacation he needed. With his iPad channeled to the news, while his laptop focused on the project and the tablet on notepad mode, upon seeing nature and the sky Chenle’s able to work effortlessly and soundly with no disruptions.

But he speaks too soon because Areum (being somewhat around 8 months) creeps her way outside on the wooden floor before scrambling out on the grass. Chenle has his eyes on the screen but yet after spotting her he exhales in annoyance. “Honey!” He yells out hoping that she can come and take this baby back inside. “Reckless.” He hadn’t set any barricades for the baby because the baby was always with Yezi, so he didn’t feel the need to secure any areas in the house.

And because of not securing the baby crawls on the grass outside of the shade and explores around. She’s a walking and falling mess- but with a joyous and jolly laugh, whenever she falls down she gets back up and carries on walking. In her onesie she’s playing on the floor by laying down, scampering around, attempting to stand up- she’s like a dog and it doesn’t help when Chenle notices Daegal too surrounding the baby and playing with her.

Her loud squeal in pain causes him to snap his head away from the screen and to her. She wails out after stomping with her hand on the sprinklers and the water splashes on her, and Daegal joins in barking at the sprinklers when it starts spluttering out water. Chenle tsks and ignores her crying, placing his air pods on focusing on his work. That wasn’t his problem… but at the same time he can’t help but be cautious of her moves. “Chungdae!” He yells out.

With no success in getting Chungdae to come and get the baby, Chenle continues with work and ignores the child almost entirely. It’s not until she finds her way back in his line of vision under the shade and sitting down on the wooden floor playing with things, assembly Daegal’s toys does he sigh out. He doesn’t care about her, he only cares that the baby was disturbing his peace and has somehow been set free to move around the house. Where’s Yezi? Where’s Chungdae?

Meanwhile Areum in her own world attempts to stand and walks a few steps only to tumble on the ground in her onesies, what catches his eyes is that every time she’d fall there would be a smile on her face, and unknowingly a smile would also be on his face for a spilt second. He tries as best as he can to overlook the little baby girl, but she makes it so hard, when slowly but surely she moves closer to him.

The next to time he looks away from the screen, she’s standing by leaning on the table bouncing to inaudible music. Upon getting his attention, Areum smiles and moves by hurriedly walking to the chair where he’s sitting and leans on his leg.

“No, no.” Chenle scolds. “Don’t touch me.” Chenle shoves her hands off his thighs.

Areum can only sit on the ground while looking up to the older man with wonder in her eyes. Her eyes that are just so precious and almost melt Chenle’s heart, but his quick in shifting away. In shifting away she only gets closer to him before yawning and rubbing on her eye in a messy state.

She gets back up and holds onto his thigh while minding her own business and playing with Daegal’s toy. Chenle tries not to shove her away, afraid he’ll hurt her but at the same time his eyes constantly move to her wondering if she’s okay.

She’s banging the toy on his thigh and making gurgling sounds while playing with herself, leaving Chenle to simply work and not mind her.

However, after some time, she grows quiet, and still while balancing on Chenle, she slides down his leg and leans her head on his leg. Chenle notices this and tentatively shakes his leg. “Hey,”

Areum looks up, her eyes blinking and wipes on them before making herself comfortable again on his leg. He leans back on his seat after a certain time and looks at her. Her posture looks bent and surely uncomfortable but it doesn’t stop her from sleeping. It’s when her neck starts wobbling and craning does he find his arms stretching down and his hands carrying and lifting her fazed sleepy state.

“You’re heavy,” He mummers before she hurriedly fixes herself comfortably in his hands by laying her body on his chest and her head against the croak of his neck. Chenle is stiff for a minute, and snaps out of it when feeling his dog by his foot. Looking down he sees Daegal wrapping herself in a ball and making herself comfortable. Chenle leans back on his seat and gently rests his hand on the baby’s back, the other arm holding her in place.

He soon finds himself dozing off after listening to the commentary with ear pods in his ear and his vision blurring while he succumbs to the sleep.

“Mum? I can’t find Areum anywhere,” Yezi looks panicked when waking up her mum. Chungdae blinks in haziness but after hearing Yezi’s concern she’s up on her feet.

“She was sleeping with me,”

“Well where is she?” Yezi in heaps of fright dashes out the room and continues to search all over the house, calling her name. She even gets upset that the house is so big. The only place she ever spent time with Areum was on the second floor where her room was- but after searching the entire second floor her heart is in frantic panic when looking all over. “Areum?”

In seeing Daegal stretching by the outside porch door and entering the house- Yezi scampers towards the door being breathless hoping to see her child. But her eyes are too stunned to move when she takes in the sight right before her. Right underneath the shade of the veranda, she sees her dad carrying her baby. The sight itself is wholesome with her dad’s eyes closed and embracing her child in such a manner of protecting her. Her heart fills up with an overwhelming longing. Seeing this sight only enlightens her.

Despite having non-verbal communications with her dad, Yezi had a slight assurance that her father still cared about her every time he paid for her private lessons with the tutor, every time he gave Chungdae money to give her, or even the little moments when he’d stoke up on her favorite foods whenever they’d run out. Despite not talking, Yezi knew that her dad still cared for her. And seeing this sight of him holding her child, gives her some sort of hope. Ever since Areum was born, Chenle never ever held her and refused to do so even in private when Chungdae would ask for help.

But now seeing how comfortable her baby is sleeping on her dad makes her smile. Deciding not to interrupt them, she moves back in the house and informs Chungdae that Areum is safe. After an hour or so, Chenle is awakened when Chungdae lightly tries to get Areum off his sleeping figure. He finds himself holding tighter onto the little girl, but eventually slowly let’s go, nodding his head when Chungdae states that her nappy is full. However, much to Areum’s distaste and drowsy state- refuses to let go of Chenle and holds tighter even whimpering out for the touch of the man who rarely holds her.

“What do you wanna do again?” Chenle asks, while removing his earphone and seemingly looks a little more awake then before. Especially when noticing that the child doesn’t want to let go of him.

“I want to change her diaper, it’s full and she’s gonna get rash,” Chungdae tries again to pull Areum off and Chenle gently tries to stretch her towards his wife, but Areum cries only resulting in Chenle holding onto her again.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay, let’s go,” Chungdae is surprised when seeing Chenle stands up with the child and they both embark inside the house going up the stairs. All this while Chenle holds onto an awake yet sleepy Areum and pats her back lightly. “Where’s Yezi?”

“Studying in her room, we can just go to our room,”

Chenle nods his head and upon getting to their room, he carefully lays Areum down while assuring the little wailing baby of his presence by playing with her hand while Chungdae begins removing her clothes and changing her. Her whimpers die down when Chenle holds onto her hand and playfully tells her it’s okay. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s just a nappy change,”

Chungdae hurries on to changing and cleaning the baby, but at the same time she pays attention to how Areum watches Chenle in awe and silences down whilst smiling and being entertained by him. When she’s done and dresses Areum in another onesie, Areum being tired yet awake and seemingly just staring at Chenle warms Chungdae’s heart.

“What’s wrong with her?” Chenle gently asks while lying on the bed and looking into the young baby’s black eyes. “She’s tired but she doesn’t want to sleep,” Chenle whispers.

“She can’t stop looking at you, at her grandfather,” Chungdae whispers back.

Despite Chenle not liking that word especially used for this child… his heart can’t help when he sees just how much curiosity is in the little girls’ eyes. “Sleep,” he smiles lightly when her features get into a drowsy sleep but her eyes are quick to open to make sure that Chenle is still in front of her. “You won’t miss anything. I’ll still be here. Sleep okay,” Chenle adjusts his posture on the bed to be at the same level as her while he also makes himself comfortable. Soon enough, after much ogling Areum falls asleep.

In Chungdae’s head, the little girl just wanted to take in this special moment of her bonding with her grandfather and didn’t want to miss out on seeing his face close to hers.

And for a few more days, although its scarce to see Chenle with Areum, Areum feels a tad bit comfortable in always approaching him. Whether by running to him whenever her mum would chase her and tell her it’s time to bath, or even by following Chenle around once she’s spotted him. In all honesty, at first it was annoying for Chenle to be followed by the miniature creature bastard child. However, he got used to her petite figure and he’d always be cautious of her movements. Chenle purposely acknowledges her and on other days it seems like he’s almost waiting for his chance to pick her up. And always waits for the signaling. It can be Chungdae asking for help with the little girl, and Chenle simply carries her and holds her while Chungdae works. Other times it’s when he gets back from work and already sees the baby crawling on the floor but when seeing him she attempts to stand and scampers in his direction.

Yezi only having seen the sight once, is surprised when one day, a Saturday, her dad is at home instead of being at work. And it so happens that when Chungdae leaves the house to go to the market, Areum won’t stop crying while Yezi is studying.

“Areum, please stop crying.” Yezi slightly raises her voice being upset. She stands up and bobs on Areum while holding her notebook in the other hand and tries to study, but Areum carries on crying. “Areum!”

That only makes Areum wail out more even going as far as hitting her mum wanting to get down.

“Areum what do you want!? I just wanna study-”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Chenle opens up the door stepping into the room cautiously. “What’s wrong?” He asks while struggling to hear through Areum’s screeches.

“I just wanna study but Areum keeps crying, I gave her milk and food, gave her bath but she won’t stop crying, I don’t know what to do and mum isn’t here-” Yezi herself also looks like she’s on the verge of crying, both from stress of the exam as well as her crying baby. She’s so overwhelmed by her emotions that when her dad offers to watch over Areum, she agrees without a second thought and continues studying while her dad shuts the door and disappears with Areum. It’s only when she’s calmed down and easily studies does she realise that her dad actually spoke to her in a somewhat decent conversation and even offered to take Areum.

Her heart, for a second, seems like it stops beating because of the shock that just happened. Carefully, no longer being interested in studying and wants to see with her own eyes, she walks out her room and tries to spot her dad with her child. She moves all over the house and even outside, but when she doesn’t see her dad, she panics and before she can even call out to them both- she’s surprised when seeing Chungdae block her mouth looking ecstatically pleased and happy. Gently pulling Yezi to the kitchen, they’re both caught in a trans of watching Chenle and the baby.

Chenle is holding on Areum on one side of his hip while holding a piece of a pineapple on a fork. He nibbles only a little and then moves the fork towards Areum. Areum sucks on the fruit and backs away with a sour look on her face just as Chenle moves the fork back silently laughing at her reaction. However, when Areum pounces on and eagerly tries to grab the fork from Chenle’s other hand with extreme force.

And it seems that it’s through that one little moment that a serene feeling of joy passes through the house for everyone. It’s through Areum that somehow the sense of ‘family’ began making sense again. As days pass, it seems like all the family wants to do is build their life and remain connected and not look back anymore. They each continue to strive in building a better life for themselves, Chungdae as the joy of the house continues to encourage as well as bring the family together, Yezi as a persistent graduate embarks on a journey of making her dad proud as well as herself and her baby, Chenle rightfully taking the head in making sure that this time his family is safe and that nothing can hurt them. At the same time, Areum grows in the love and embrace of all her family.

And Areum’s first word much to all their surprise is “Gwanpa”. Chenle never knew the excitement he’d feel when hearing the form of words leave the little girl’s mouth, his little bean. And hearing the word from her mouth, makes him wish that his whole family be together and that he’s willing to reconcile with Dae. No matter what. Which is why, when he sends her an email years later, he’s heart is open to accept whatever the outcome is- but he mostly leans onto the best. He hopes that his daughter Dae, will come back to him.

Especially since she approves his email and accepts his invitation, asking if she can come with her boyfriend who’s helped her get back into shape. Chenle at first is surprised with joy to hear from his daughter, but his surprise turns to stun when he learns who she’s been dating and spending time with for the past years. But all in all, he figures that it’s time to let bygones be bygones, especially within their 5th year, a parole letter from the court comes in and asks whether or not they’ll accept Donghyuck’s appeal for parole.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Chungdae asks while sitting next to her husband on their bed late at night, as they stare at the email together.

Chenle inhales in deeply, re-reading his email before nodding his head. “We’ve moved passed the past and all I want to do is move on. I’m sure from his appeal he won’t be a bother to us. And I sure as hell don’t want to receive emails about them anymore. Granting his parole as well as accepting never to receive emails like this again, will allow our family to finally have the peace we’ve been seeking for. Nothing bad will happen,”

Once Chenle sends in the email, the receivers are prompt to already writing up Donghyuck’s release paper’s and setting up for him to leave within a 5-day notice.

S2:EP7-14

[5 days later: Thursday 9h30 a.m.]

Donghyuck is up and refreshed before anyone else in his cell. His eyes are trained on the barred windows to the light pouring out of the clouds. This is the day he would step foot outside of this damn prison in hopes never to return again.

“Can’t believe you’re leaving so soon,” Mark mumbles looking up to Donghyuck from his bed. Still being under the covers he watches his friend who’s got bruises on his nose, chin and cheek bone, but still his enthusiasm spreads all over his face. “You’re a free man but you’re already looking so beat,”

“Fuck off Mark.” Donghyuck runs his hands through his head taking a seat on his own bed. His head running free and wild with thoughts. But the one thing that’s pressing his head is that he never wants to come back to prison again. He misses his mum (who has not been sending in her letters to him), he misses Renjun who he heard from the ward guards that he was released 3 years ago. He misses his family, and he knows that they might not be too excited to see him when he gets back, but he wants to show them just how much he’s changed in his mindset. He wants to try and be the son his mum has always wanted, and he wants to be a big brother to Renjun, but most importantly, he wants to live his life the right way. “Even though I’m fucked up, I want to live honestly,” He whispers out.

Mark scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You’re all talk but, you’ll be back here before you know it. There’s going to be something that will just piss you off and make you go crazy,”

Donghyuck tries not to pay attention to Mark and only focuses on the positive, and he gets relieved when he hears his prison cell buzzer ring and looks up to the door that has a square space with bars. Seeing the officer Park Jisung call his name, Donghyuck eagerly stands up placing his hands behind his head as procedure. Officer Park Jisung gets in the cell accompanied by another guard (who stands like a guard dog and watches Mark and the other prisoners making sure that they don’t try and move). Jisung pulls Donghyuck’s hands down and into handcuffs. “Good morning Lee Donghyuck. My name is Officer Park, I’ll be in charge of settling your release papers and getting you out of here. Any questions you have will have to wait until we get to the holding center.”

Donghyuck feels relief wash over him that his appeal had been approved and that he can hear his freedom being doors away. He thought surely that he’d be rejected, but much to his surprise they granted him freedom.

“Why’d they say yes?” Donghyuck asks regardless of what Jisung said.

“Any questions you may have will have to wait until we get to the holding center.” Jisung repeats sternly.

This makes Mark snicker a little while watching his friend being taken away. Donghyuck looks back to Mark with a formidable smile. “Good luck Mark,”

“See you soon bro,” Mark winks his eye and breathes out when their door is banged shut causing the metallic locks to seal up the door again. “I’ve gotta get out of here,”

The metal gates containing the prison facility closes after Donghyuck steps out. He takes a look back to the buildings that enclosed him and kept him for 5 years. He rubs his wrists looking up to the hot sun taking in the air of his new freedom. Finally, he’s out.

He expects to see his mum as usual, yet when there’s no sign of humans around the area he hangs his jacket behind his back before looking left and right and beginning his walk.

By the time Donghyuck’s legs wear out and he’s tired both physically as well as mentally, he stops by a gas station hoping to make a phone call. He barely has enough coins to make a calling, but he manages with the little he has. He leans by the wall and taps on the memorized phone numbers calling on his mum.

Thankfully the phone clicks. “Hello?”

“Mum,” Donghyuck’s voice is raspy but it can’t contain his own happiness when hearing his mum’s voice. She doesn’t sound sick.

“Oh,” Her voice fades. “Donghyuck is that you?”

“Yes, uh, I got released today,”

“I was aware.”

There’s a moment of silence that passes between them, with Donghyuck waiting eagerly to hear her voice but yet she doesn’t reciprocate his enthusiasm. Sensing that she’s not going to speak he speaks before his minutes run out. “Uhm, I was wondering…if you could let me stay over at your place…” He scratches the back of his head, feeling small and crushed that his mother doesn’t sound pleased to even hear him. “Just until I can find a place to stay,”

Her silence lasts long only causing Donghyuck to worry.

“Please…please mum?” He begs. “I… I won’t stay long. Please, I promise to be on my best behavior, I-”

“You have less than 1 minute.” The operating voice cuts in between, causing Donghyuck to curse. When the line connects again, he waits a bit to hear from his mum, but she still doesn’t speak.

“Okay fine. Just for tonight.” Donghyuck lets out as a last resort. “I’ll be gone in the morning.”

Just when Donghyuck isn’t expecting his mum to accept, she does. “Fine. But we changed the address. Right now, I’m at work, Renjun will arrive in an hour or so, you’ll have to wait outside. We no longer live in 84 Guryong. We’re in Estate Pent Thirty-f-”

“Shit.” Donghyuck tries to look for pocket change to carry on the call, but it hangs and he curses. “Fuck.” A few seconds of rest leads to him looking at the street map outside the gas store to find the address the his mum mentioned. “Estate Pent…” His eyes widen slightly seeing that the new residence is in an area whereby he’s never lived in.

It’s also quite far from where he is. He takes a deep breath and begins walking…

“Need a lift?”

Donghyuck’s ears are alert when hearing a voice. He looks behind him to a guy smiling at a girl. The girl continues walking minding her own business and not focusing on the guy who tries desperately hard to get her attention including whistling. Donghyuck breathes out a chuckle. “Still a dick.”

Jungwoo much to his own dissatisfaction rolls his eyes when the girl ignores him. “Fine. Go away with your flat ass,”

“I gotta advice you bro, chasing chicks decades younger then you will lead you to prison,” Donghyuck speaks loud enough to get the attention of the male in the car. Jungwoo peers to the voice and instantly a smile coats his face.

“Ehy, the boy who went to prison,” Jungwoo stops his engine and gets out the car just as Donghyuck walks over to the man. They get into a bro hug doing a little handshakes before Jungwoo goes all in for a hugr causing Donghyuck to stand in shock before he pushes Jungwoo off him. Jungwoo laughs it off fixing his cow boy hat on his head looking jolly. “Man, how the hell are you out? Did you escape? ‘Cause I know for sure your sentence was much longer then this? Where’s your other half by the way? You hungry? I was heading to lunch, come on. There’s a new joint that opened up serving amazing lobster- you know what it can be my treat, order and eat as much as you like. It’s good seeing you, the streets have been crazy with this boy by the name of Shotaro being all over the place causing havoc on every territory. Thank goodness you’re back, you can teach him a lesson. Wait, did I actually tell you about Sungchan? He was sentenced life in prison just yesterday, but wait that brings me back to you, how are you out? How-”

One thing Donghyuck liked about his old friend Jungwoo was how he always did the talking and never really allowed anyone else to talk but himself. He’d not only ask questions, but he’d answer his own questions and most of the time Donghyuck thinks that Jungwoo doesn’t really care about anyone’s opinion because he’s always talking and likes hearing his voice. So Donghyuck simply sits in the front seat, resting out his legs and allowing his seat to recline backwards so that he can take time to breathe in from his heavy walking. Hopefully when done eating, he’ll set the street address of his mum’s new place.

After a heavy and amazing meal, Donghyuck is seated outside on a bench in the park under a tree facing in the direction of a clean and solid apartment building. Not only did it reside in a well off area, but the people themselves walking in and out of the apartment looked stable. At first he wanted to go in, but seeing how he was dressed in dark clothes from the night of the accident, he knew that the guards wouldn’t let him in. So now he sits outside, waiting for Renjun or even his mum to show up.

He waits for a really long time until his eyes squint a little by the appearance of a person which resembles Renjun. However, this person has got short black hair, looks angry and is dressed in all black clothes… well his jersey is a mixture of black and white stripes, but it sure as hell makes him look so different.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck yells out the name of his brother. There’s a fleeting happiness that gets upon Donghyuck’s heart when seeing the boy. Just two days ago, he reminisced on the feelings of how he felt for disappointing Renjun. So seeing him causes him happiness. He stretches his legs and begins moving towards the exit of the park going over to Renjun who stands frozen looking at Donghyuck as if it’s a horror movie. “Hey,” Donghyuck greets with a wholeheartedly.

However, Renjun is anything but cheerful. Up close, there’s a permanent resting scowl on his face, and with the short hair Donghyuck can see the faint lines of wrinkles which help to make Renjun look even more angry. “What are you doing here?”

Donghyuck is confused by the tone tilting his head with a confused face. “What’s up with the glum face?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Renjun remarks looking closed off. “What are you doing here?”

“Mum gave me the ad-”

“The hell she did.” Renjun says distastefully. “Why’re you out? Didn’t you have a full sentence of 15 years?”

Donghyuck tries not to get angry, by holding in his tongue and poking it on the corner of his lip. “You also don’t want me here?” It’s clear how from his reaction that he also didn’t want him around. And to be fair, Donghyuck can understand why, but the fact that Renjun doesn’t even look the least bit fazed makes Donghyuc upset. “Well I called mum and she said I could stay here for-”

“You’re not gonna stay here. Her health’s been good for the past years now, she doesn’t need stress in her life anymore. Neither do I, so go back where you belong behind bars and out of everyone’s hair.” Renjun gives Donghyuck a dirty look before walking past him.

Donghyuck is quick in stopping his brother by the arm before looking to him. “Look Renjun. I’m sorry-”

“Save it. And leave me alone.” Renjun yanks his arm away. “I don’t care if she gave you the address, you’re not getting in. Find another place, in fact consider yourself cut from our lives. We don’t want you here.”

Donghyuck is about to comment out he has no right to speak, but he holds his tongue shutting his eyes tightly when thinking of just how much he tried his best to change in prison. If he continues to allow his tongue to be the master of everything, he’ll end up in prison again. Which is why he lets Renjun go. He stands in place and sighs, before going back to the park and sitting down on the bench with his brain raging but seemingly trying to remain calm. He reminds himself, that he deserves Renjun’s anger. But mostly Donghyuck fears just how much prison has changed his brother. Not only appearance wise, but internally as well. The Renjun that Donghyuck remembers was timid and always on edge, was always looked down upon and was a whining coward. This Renjun is gritty, unwavering, strong minded and angry. Donghyuck can blame it on the prison experience and also with the fact that he may or may not be his brother’s favorite person right now- but damn he’s changed so much. Was this his behavior everywhere, or was it only because Donghyuck was there. Whatever it is, Donghyuck hopes that it’ll pass.

With all the time he spent in prison trying to change his ways and character, he can’t come home to everyone already given up on him. He wanted one more chance, to redeem himself as well as prove that he wasn’t an unlucky fuckup. He needed just one more chance.

And so when the afternoon rolls in and the sky changes colors from blue to a cream shade of orange, Donghyuck gets up when seeing the all too familiar posture of his mother. Donghyuck can already tell that so much has changed. He’s not only happy to see her walking strongly and with a smile on her face, but also she looks really good. She’s dressed in a beautiful floral dress and her back is actually not hunched over. She looks strong. And that makes Donghyuck’s emotions flatter. Seeing his mother after so long causes him to be slightly emotional. Because he knows that soon, her smile will fade when looking at him.

It doesn’t even take a second for her smile to disappear upon noticing him crossing the street over to where she is. Her smile instantly vanishes when Donghyuck’s gaze meets hers. He tries not to break down, but the tears are already building up. His mum hates him. He can’t even look at her, as his eyes blur and he hates on himself for ever using her to the point where he takes away her smile.

However, when Donghyuck’s head hangs and he stops walking, his mum sighs sadly upon seeing her son. She slowly makes her way to him. When standing in front of him, her hand lands on his shoulder. He doesn’t look up and neither does she try to get him to look up. Honestly when he called, she just wished that she changed her number because she didn’t want to speak to him. And seeing him now, she thinks of how much worry he’s put her through. In all the times that he went to prison, she would work her hardest to try and help her son. Everyone called her names, called him names, and it tore her image not only as mother but a woman. Her son was her greatest embarrassment, but he was all she had. And despite the humiliation she’d go through, she still tried, she would drain herself day and night to get some sort of money to bail him out, some money to feed him, cloth him, help him start afresh because this was her son whom she loved so much. At some point, she even became religious and prayed for her son to change. She believed that he would change someday.

But that day, 5 years ago at the court room, she realized just how far gone her son had gone. He seemed beyond saving, and there was nothing she could do. When Donghyuck led Renjun to prison, something in her snapped. She didn’t want to be mother who failed. She knew she did nothing wrong and always corrected him, but his behavior was not a character she raised. So upon Renjun, beaten, in cuffs, accused, mocked and even humiliated- she saw herself in him. That day, her heart broke in ways that her abusive husband had never broken her before. Enough was enough. She needed to break free from the chains of being broken. All she wanted was strength and chance to set her life straight, so when they both went to prison, she was left alone and had been granted a chance to change her life. And when Renjun finished serving his sentence, she made sure that she would be strong for the son she didn’t deserve. She tried to be the mother she had always envisioned herself to be. And thankfully, day by day with a grateful son in her corner she slowly regained the strength she had lost, she became into a better and healthier version of herself.

With a good son in her corner, who always took care of her, reminded her everyday why she was special, she knew that her life was finally making sense. Life was supposed to be this way. And she never wanted to let this moment go. But now standing in front of Donghyuck, her son, her past- she’s expecting to be warm and welcoming to him, but she can’t find it in herself to even smile for her son. But as a way of moving on, she rubs his back. “You’re staying for tonight. You leave in the morning.”

Donghyuck tightens his jaw and nods his head. His heart broken. But he can’t say anything as he feels the lump clogging his throat. He ends up walking, following behind her. The guard is alert when seeing Donghyuck, as hours before Renjun warned him not to let him in. “Good afternoon Mrs Lee,”

“Hi Chanyeol,” She smiles warmly. “Any letter for me?”

The man smiles and shakes his head, always being kind and friendly to the middle aged woman who had nothing but a big heart whenever seeing him. “No, your son took them up,” Chanyeol clears his throat motioning to Donghyuck. “He informed me that, I shouldn’t let the gentleman in.”

She looks back to Donghyuck who still had his hand holding on his leather jacket. Sighing, she turns back to Chanyeol and shakes her head. “I’m guessing he was upset right?”

“Very,” Chanyeol smiles politely. “Haven’t seen him that angry before.”

“Hopefully it’s short lived,” She motions behind her. “This is a guest, he’s only visiting for the night, so don’t worry,”

It’s more than a blow for Donghyuck when he hears his mum calling him a guest. Did he really lose her trust? He tries not to say anything and follows behind his mum who makes her way to the elevator of the polished looking apartment.

Donghyuck doesn’t look around and simply keeps his head down, his own thoughts weighing him down. There’s a feeling of loneliness that engulfs him in anger, but he refuses to display or manifest it. He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t even hear his mother who speaks. “Have you eaten?”

Hearing the silence, she’s reminded of how her son barely even spoke to her decently in the first place, and so she doesn’t even try to create small conversation with him when entering the elevator. They make it to the 7th floor and Donghyuck follows behind until his mother stops by a door.

Before even opening the door, Donghyuck’s nostrils sniff the scent of a delicious aroma. Hearing his mother laugh, he looks up when seeing the door open revealing a delighted looking Renjun. “Guess what I made? Come in quick before it gets cold, I just took it off the stove now,”

She unlocks the gates and walks in, allowing for Donghyuck to follow in the lively lit home. It feels like a home with all the warmth and love. Already he feels out of place, but there’s nothing he can do but follow in. His mum closes the gate behind still chatting on with Renjun who disappeared somewhere. Donghyuck turns his head to the walls, seeing portraits and pictures of just her and Renjun. There are some medals hung on the wall and trophies as well. “Wow,” He mutters underneath his breath.

The entrance of the house is a narrow hallway, leading to a living room and there’s a door on the side for the kitchen. Donghyuck follows his mum who enters the kitchen. He stands by the doorway watching his mother walking to the stove where Renjun is. The kitchen is large enough that it even has a table and four chairs around it.

Donghyuck wants to walk in- but the moment the lively chatter stops between his mother and Renjun- he looks up. And just as he guessed, Renjun has stern cold eyes fixed on him. “What the hell.” He mutters and peaks at his mum. “You let him in?”

“Just for tonight sweety, he said he’d be gone by the morning,” She gives him a pat on the back.

“But why’d you let him in?” Renjun’s shoulders slump and he crosses his arms. “I thought you said you’re done with him?”

“Renjun, please,” Donghyuck notes how she tries to calm Renjun down by holding onto the sides of his arm. “I know what I said, but it’s just for tonight-”

“I hate to break it to you mum, but that’s how it always starts. You let him stay the night, and the next thing we know he’s out and about causing trouble and continues hiding out here until we’ve got a whole bunch of unwanted debt collectors and police officers barking down on the door-”

“Renjun.” She calls earnestly. “Don’t talk like that, stop it. He’s your brother you-”

“He’s your son, not my brother. He never was.” Renjun drops his arms and turns back to the stove causing for Donghyuck to poke on the side of his mouth with his tongue, while he watches his mother look nonchalant. “I only made enough for you and me.” Renjun turns around and begins plating his meal as well as for his mum. Before he takes a seat grumpily eating on his food.

“You’ve gotten awfully comfortable-”

“And you’ve outstayed your welcome and family privileges.” He sharply remarks glaring at Donghyuck. “You’re making everyone uncomfortable, do us a favor and just-”

“Renjun.” A warning tone leaves their mum’s lips. “Eat your food.” She inhales sharply running her hand through her hair. “Are you hungry Donghyuck?”

He only ate the meal that Jungwoo gave him in the morning, and even if he kind of felt hungry, he didn’t want to. He shakes his head. “It’s okay you can enjoy your food. Uh, while moving did you take any of my stuff-”

“Yes-”

“I threw them out.” Renjun cuts his mum off. Her gaze that penetrates the back of his head is strong in shock. “They were an omen and reflection of bad luck.”

“Renjun-”

“You know what,” Donghyuck grates his teeth before biting on his lip. “Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

“Donghyuck-”

Donghyuck shakes his head pulling his leather jacket back on and moving the door. He opens it only to be stopped by the gate.

“Donghyuck don’t leave.” His mum carefully holds onto his arm looking disheartened. “You said you’d stay for the night-”

“I’m not wanted here anymore, clearly, so just fucking open the gates and I’ll be out of your life forever. You wanted me gone anyway, so I’ll do you a favor and leave.”

“Donghyu-”

“Mum please.” Donghyuck stresses out through his teeth closing his eyes feeling the tears. “You’re clearly fucking healthy and you look great. I don’t want to fuck things up again, so just please open the gates. I’ll go and I promise not to fucking disturb you again.”

For some reason, that only makes her heart hurt. “Just for tonight- I’ll make dinner, please-”

Donghyuck shakes his head and wipes his eyes before forcing his arms out of his mother’s hands and walks back to the kitchen. “Come fucking open the gates or else I’ll break it open.”

“No need to tell me twice.” Renjun grumbles leaving his chopsticks and digging into his pockets bringing out keys. Renjun moves to the gates ignoring his mum who gives him upset eyes. Once he unlocks the gates, Donghyuck pushes past him and leaves.

“Donghyuck.” She calls once, but it’s useless when he turns the corner and instead of using the elevator takes the stairs all the way down.

The security guard, Chanyeol notes that Donghyuck is leaving and he doesn’t say anything.

Donghyuck is angry. Enraged by the stupid tears that clog his vision as he keeps walking away. He wants to hit something- to punch someone- to scream- to shout- to find some way to let his anger out- any other way except through tears. He finds his way back on the park bench underneath the tree as he holds his head in between his hands and stays silent. He sniffs here and there but he doesn’t cry. He allows for himself to feel the emotions of frustration. It’s the fact that there’s a whole in his heart and that he can feel it bleeding- it’s the fact that he wants to let it out but he knows that he can’t let it out without harming someone. But he doesn’t want to harm anyone- he doesn’t want to prove to Renjun or even Mark that he’s the same. Which is why when the first few come out, he doesn’t hold back and allows his shoulders to shudder and his voice to croak as he let’s out his emotions, his tears, his cry.

The whole night, Donghyuck covers himself in self-pity while contemplating on what to do in his life, where and how to try and live an honest life. Unlike when he was in prison, seeing his mother again made him realize that she’s always been there through thick and thin, even though he let her down she was everything a mother could be- he just never cherished her enough and that she was the only one. In her soul she would sacrifice for him to have the best in life…and because he took her for granted, he needed to let her know that he wants to make it right…he wants to touch her soul again, to at least bring a smile on her face. So before the early morning, he’s up from the bench and walks around the area. He cleans up his face in the public toilet washing his face and looking himself in the mirror giving himself some encouragement.

“I look so pathetic.” He mutters before leaving the bathroom.

Donghyuck doesn’t fret when the nearby stores don’t have any positions open, he doesn’t fret when he gets approached by some the old friends he knew who used to steal and sell on the sides of the roads, he walks away from them and persists on his journey to find work. It would’ve been easier if he didn’t get many employers asking for paperwork, degrees or even cv- it was even worse when they recognized him as someone who had a prison record, much worse when they didn’t know and they asked and he had to be honest with them. It’s hard work looking for a job, but just thinking of his mother allows him to try.

Day in and day out, Donghyuck finds himself barely making it through. On the first night he slept in the park opposite his mother’s apartment, but after much nights of sleeping on a bench- welcoming arms came from another homeless man who told him about a shelter that took in ‘straymen’ like himself. A nonprofit organization that helped to feed the needy and gave water once a week. He somehow got attached to the group of stray kids… homeless stray men who stuck together and would share everything they had with each other. Donghyuck didn’t fret when within a week, he found himself sleeping under bridges, on street corners and even sleeping standing up against a building. It wasn’t much, but he got work as a car washer. It wasn’t much because it wasn’t even professional as they’d randomly go up to cars by a traffic light and offer to wash windows. Not only washing cars but he got multiple side jobs; handing out newspapers, collecting any forms of plastic to get recycled and even helping people carry bags that were heavy.

It’s the most humiliated Donghyuck had ever felt, but as long as he was making money- he endured it. He just needed to reach his goal, to at least go to an internet café and forge out documents with his qualification. He didn’t make it far in school because of lack of funds, but Donghyuck did do side programs and got some degree. Even though forging out documents was wrong, Donghyuck had enough of being humiliated.

Together, on most days, he found himself attending ‘church’ with the group of stray kids who would go to pray.

When he thought of religion, he only thought of his mother. There was no one else committed like her when it came to going every day, praying every day and even giving in money she didn’t have. Donghyuck only came because it felt as a way to be close to her.

So he wasn’t expecting when one Sunday after the service he’d see a bright eyed woman waiting for him. His heart felt heavy for a second when seeing his mum standing and smiling. The automatic tears that seemed to only come when he acknowledged her. He looks behind him, wondering whether Renjun was around, because ever since he came out of prison she never smiled at him- so it wouldn’t make sense that 2 months later she’s outside with a warm smile.

Donghyuck scratches his neck and looks away already disqualifying himself from her gaze. Yet he freezes when hearing his name being called. “Donghyuck,”

His head slowly turns back to the spot whereby he saw his mum. His shoulders hang when he notices that she’s approaching him. He can’t even look at her in the eye knowing that he can’t contain the tears just as much as he can’t contain the anger.

Her eyes take in his appearance. He’s dressed in the same clothes that she last saw him in. Although his pants looked faded and bit dirty, his leather jacket was worn out and had some leather falling out. His hair was messy and looked combed down only with his fingers. Even though she’s not able to see his face, she can see how much weight he lost. Prison must’ve fed him well because when she last saw him he looked in good physical shape, but now he looks starved with his jaws smaller and face small. Her son…

It took one tiring, long and so heartbreaking conversation with Renjun, for her to feel so much anguish and guilt for neglecting her son. Despite all that he has done, he was still her son, and if she could protect one and groom him well, then surely she could try again with another. Especially when acknowledging that something was different about him.

“How was the service?” She asks warmly, her smile radiating joy as it covers her sadness.

Donghyuck clears his throat and looks back. Despite it being a welcoming place, he could sense the stares of the people around him and even with a message and word so strong, Donghyuck has never felt so empty before in his own life. His eyes turn back to the ground and he shrugs his shoulders not uttering a word.

This break his mother’s heart. Her son… “Are you hungry?”

Donghyuck sniffs back, blocking out the tears that attempt to fall. He hated how glum and gloomy he’s been feeling and he especially hates how his mother is here. “Uh, I actually have to get going.” Donghyuck doesn’t look to her when he turns around and carries on walking without stopping, even when she calls out his name on repeat. He shuts his ears and even runs- it hurts so much. His heart hurts so much, but he doesn’t allow himself time to grieve as he carries on his walk getting to the back of the shelter where he spent most of his days when he had nothing to do.

He busks on the ground sniffing and wiping his eyes trying to compose himself.

“Donghyuck-”

His head snaps up to the panting woman who holds onto her side bending down trying to catch her breath. “Mum? Did you follow me?” Donghyuck asks, panicked as he moves towards her but doesn’t touch her. “Why did you follow me? You could’ve hurt yourself,” Donghyuck stresses.

“I was trying to talk to you, but you just ran away from me.” She breathes out still hunched and trying to catch her breath. “I wanted…to talk to you, let me catch my breath,”

Donghyuck meekly stands back and watches her. She’s got on a long dress that end by her ankles, it’s black and she has a white cardigan over her dress. Her grey hairs are neatly tucked in a low ponytail. It brings Donghyuck, some form of happiness, when seeing that her health was booming and despite being tired, that she had strength. His only form of happiness was seeing his mum being well. Without him in the picture and with Renjun being by her side she regained the health that he had taken away from her.

“I can’t come back to you mum,” Donghyuck finds himself saying. “I’ll only cause you stress, and you’ll lose weight again, and you’ll get sick again because of me, and i… I don’t want to be responsible for your unhappiness and misery. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be okay…and now that you’re well, I need to find my own way…you don’t need me holding you down,”

These are words to her ears. Hearing her son being so vulnerable causes her to recall of a time when she cradled him in her arms when he was just a child. She vowed that no matter what, she would protect him. Little did she know that his own way of doing things, were for her and not out of selfish reasons. She limps forward and holds her hand out. “Are you hungry?” She asks calmly looking up to him who still had eyes for the ground. “We can talk after you’ve had a meal. Are you going to deny my request to spend time with you?”

Donghyuck visibly hesitates and gulps before shaking his head.

When his mother takes him to a causal diner serving pastry, Donghyuck’s eyes light up when seeing all the meals but his eyes don’t linger long on the food as he focuses on the table. He was so hungry, he only ate once a week during a Thursday when the shelter people would come, but otherwise he lived on water from public fountains.

“What would you like, I’ll pay for it,”

Looking at the menu, Donghyuck looked for the cheapest bun which was a doughnut. “T-the simple doughnut,”

“Are you sure?” His mum asks looking at the menu seeing that it’s the cheapest and most plain. “Come on son, don’t be afraid. I’ve got more than enough,”

Donghyuck chokes up on the word ‘son’ but still shakes his head. “I’m not that hungry though. It’s alright you can eat,”

“The son I knew loved eating,”

“I just don’t want to waste your money. You can use it on something else,”

“I want to use it on you,” She tries to ensure, but the look on Donghyuck’s face showed that was adamant. Even though he didn’t say anything, she could see right through his façade. Something surely changed in her son.

The afternoon he left her house, she couldn’t shake off the guilt she felt for letting him leave. Even though she had a piece of mind without him, it’s the mere fact that he came to her and she turned him away. As his mother, her soul still ached for her son.

“We’ll have the lunch brunch,” She says when the waiter returns. Donghyuck’s ears perk but he says nothing. He waits for his mum to speak, but his nerves get the better of him and he’s legs begin to shake by the heavy silence.

“The pastor told me, that he had seen you a couple of times wandering the streets,” She speaks when noting his anxiety. “He asked me, why I had neglected you.” That makes her pause to take in her son’s fragile and vulnerable state. He looked neglected and deprived of a mother’s love. “His words hit me straight in the heart because he reminded me of all the prayers I made for you. Prayers for you to change, to become my son again, prayers for God to help you find your way. His words, reminded me why I shouldn’t give up on you.”

Those are words to Donghyuck’s ears, they even make him turn red.

“We can start over,” She proposes. “We can put the past behind us, and try again. Are you willing to try again? To rekindle our relationship?”

Donghyuck feels his neck growing hot, but he still manages to clear his throat uttering out a tiny ‘Yeah’ but he’s even afraid of confessing the words out loud just in case it’ll jinx his luck.

“I’m happy to hear that,” She smiles warmly again leaning over the table trying not to push his nervousness. “A position recently opened up in the place where I work. They’re looking for a janitor and security guard, two wedged type of work. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a private kindergarten school and they pay very well. If you’re interested, I can arrange the necessary documents for you, and put in a good word for you. I’m well-respected in the school, so I believe that despite your record, I can put in a good word and it’ll be enough to cover your past,”

- 2 Weeks later.

Donghyuck picks up the heavy green plastic of trash consisting of used but not limited to dirty recyclable materials, and walks out the classroom and onto the hallway that would lead to the playground field where all the different sets of dumpsters would be. After dumping the trash inside and closing the lid he digs into his pocket to his buttoned phone to check the time.

15:29.

Thirty more minutes until he could knock off. Upon walking back to the classroom, his eyes squint into the playground distance to the empty entrance gate- well not so empty. What catches his eye, is some sort of homeless looking guy in dirty black sweatpants and a faded out red coca cola t-shirt with holes, walking towards a child sitting on a bench. Donghyuck sighs and walks towards the entrance. His whole presence alone causes the homeless guy to deviate and part away crossing the street. The vulnerable child isn't even aware that she's been spared from danger as she continues humping on the bench. Getting a bit sexual and seemingly trying to reach her pleasure.

Donghyuck scratches his neck wondering if he should be stopping the child or tell his mum once again. Even though they still weren't on good terms, he promised to be on his best behavior if it meant his mum helping him out. Getting out of prison with a warrant wasn't easy at all, but not as much as it was to get a job of any kind with so many prison charges. Thankfully, Donghyuck's mother came to his rescue. She worked as a day care teacher assistant and their school was in need of a cleaner. It wasn't a luxurious position, but Donghyuck took it just to prove to his mother that he was serious in mending their relationship.

So being a 'janitor' his main responsibilities included getting on the school grounds early, cleaning up classes when students were not inside, disposing of trash and waiting until the school day was over and all the kids went home to clean again. Those were his responsibilities, but it became tough when parents didn't pick up their kids on time at 13.00. Donghyuck hated when parents would fetch their kids late. Reason being, because he'd need to make sure that the school was 100% empty before him to go home. And if it was not 100% empty, then he wasn't allowed to go home.

Getting closer to the bench, Donghyuck notices the child seating down yet rocking her hips back and forth on the bench- almost grinding herself on it. The sight is perverse. However, for Donghyuck, he'd gotten used to only one of the day care students who was consistent in grinding on anything and everything when she was bored. Areum.

Making himself more visible to the young girl, Donghyuck sits on the bench next to her. Her motion stops and she peers to the elder sitting next to her, a bright smile coating her lips. "Hi Mr Sunshine!"

"Hey Kid." Donghyuck greets in a mumbling tone making the girl chuckle. “What?” He asks when looking down at her.

“I have a joke,”

“Go for it,” Donghyuck sighs, already knowing she’d bring another terrible pun joke. She loved doing that for some reason.

Areum giggles and looks up to Donghyuck. “A book fell on my head when I was in the library. I guess I only had myshelf to blame.” She begins giggling. “Did you hear the joke about the little mountain? It was hill-arious!”

“I’ve got one,” Donghyuck finds himself saying. “What do dogs do when they need a break while watching a movie?”

“What?”

“They put it on paws.” Donghyuck shakes his head smirking when the little girl begins dying of laughter. A little back and forth of her terrible puns fills the silent, but after some time she becomes silent. With his hands in his pocket and peering down at the girl who slowly continues to grind herself again, Donghyuck sighs. "Where's your parent?"

The child blinks causing Donghyuck to internally roll his eyes groaning lowly. This job really tested his patience especially when talking with kids.

"Where's the person who's going to fetch you? You mum or dad or guardian?"

"Oh! Mummy's at work." She says nodding her head. "Uncle Jung is going to fetch me."

Donghyuck nods his head allowing the silence to take over. However, his attention draws to the girl once again when she rocks her hips back and forth again. It's not the first time she's done this, however, every time that she does it, Donghyuck feels slightly uncomfortable. He's caught her on this bench all by herself on multiple occasions grinding for pleasure, not only the bench, but sometimes in class as well, on her chair. Donghyuck just wonders what exactly is going on in her head, while she literally dry humps the bench.

"Why are you doing that?" Areum peeks up and blinks her eyes. Donghyuck breathes out. Not wanting to say foreign words or words she's never heard before, he motions with himself and dry humps the bench similar to what she was doing. Areum catches on and smiles.

"It's a secret!" She leers. Despite her words, she seems excited to share the so called secret. And Donghyuck takes advantage of that, throwing his best cunning and charming personality.

"Can I know the secret?" Donghyuck asks with a pretense stunned face, being cunningly friendly. "I thought we're friends?"

"Okay." Areum looks around skeptically. "It's a secret." And laughs. "Uncle Jung said I should tell no one, even if its nice."

Donghyuck's brows furrow. "What's nice?"

Areum laughs covering her mouth frantically. In Donghyuck's head she looks the happiest while trying to be cryptic. She stands up and jumps up happily before her fingers begin to move. Donghyuck's eyes widen when she lifts up her white skirt revealing her yellow panty. He hesitates for a second until he realizes that her hand fumbles and makes its way inside her panty. He's quick to taking her hands out while having a morbidly shocked face.

She giggles, being way too excited. "Let me show you."

The secret? The secret has something to do with an uncle and a child? This only makes Donghyuck widely panic. "Fuck,"

"Oh oh." She covers her mouth in sudden surprise. "Do you also play fuck like Uncle Jung?" Before a smile latches onto her face. A chill runs down Donghyuck's spine. "Uncle Jung said fuck is a game. It's my favorite game." She whispers out.

His eyes widen. In all his years of being in prison, he sorta had the chance to reflect on where he'd like to be once he's out. And right now, talking to this girl feels dangerous. It's a problem. And this is not what he wants at all. If he tells his mum, there might be a high case of him being in a feud with the family of the young girl's parents. At the same time because the daycare already don't like him, he and his mum might both be fired from god knows what- Donghyuck is aware of how much they're waiting for him to slip up. But yet, he can't stop himself from asking. "Can you tell me more about his game? I don't know it."

"Don't tell anyone. Not even Mrs Chittaphon. Or mummy. Only Uncle Jung and I play this game," She nods her head and smile. "It's a nice game. I get to sit on him and ride the horsey!"

Donghyuck's eyes burst out of their sockets. Just as his lips become dry. He clears his throat asking. "Does he remove your clothes?"

She shakes her head. "No." She smiles. That sort of makes Donghyuck cool down again, however he's still in edge by the word horsey and what exactly she rides or what exactly has he shown her. "Can I show you?"

Donghyuck shakes his head with a tight smile, feeling bad for the little girl who seems brainwashed. "It's fine, I don't want to play the game today,"

"Uncle Jung likes to play it after work," Areum smiles. And that literally breaks Donghyuck's heart. Such a small, sweet and innocent little girl being manipulated by a ravaging uncle wolf.

"What does he do in the game?" Donghyuck asks after gaining her trust by sealing his lips shut with an invisible key.

"He tickles me here." Areum points to a part in her skirt and that makes Donghyuck mad. The urge to telling his mum growing. "And does like this," using her middle finger, she surprisingly rubs it on her yellow panty causing Donghyuck to quickly hold her hand.

"Your fucking uncle is raping you." He can't hold himself back when he glares into her eyes while shaking his head.

"My playing uncle is raping?" She asks with a puzzled face. "What's raping?"

Donghyuck sucks in a breath, and with distress he runs his hands through his hair. Before he turns back to Areum his eyes latch onto a black vehicle pulling up on the street. "Shit. Hey sweet cheeks, I need you to listen alright. Don't tell Uncle Jung that you told me, okay?"

She instantly nods his head. "I won't tell him. He'll be angry with me. Don't worry Mr Sunshine, it'll be our little secret."

The black vehicle parks right in front of them, with Donghyuck creating some distance while Areum can't stop giggling at her secret. A man, smartly dressed in a suit with parted hair, steps out the car with a charming smile growing on his lips when Areum jumps from the bench running to him. Donghyuck stands up with his hands stuffing in his pocket.

"Uncle Jung!" Areum cheers hugging him by his legs. Upon hearing the name, Donghyuck's eyes do a double take towards the man. The man squats all the way down with an antagonizing friendly smile, and puckers his lips allowing for Areum to kiss his lips before she giggles like the naive little girl she is. She begins jumping up and down in place while the man stands. "Did you buy the toys?"

"My little puppy, I bought you so many toys for you to enjoy. They're gonna make you feel real good ," Hearing the voice of the older male, his underlying tone of condescension and how much authority he has over the little girl, Donghyuck can't help it when his fists tighten into a ball. His jaw clinches when the male with a charismatic smile grins his way. "She wasn't a bother was she?"

Donghyuck's jaw locks and he looks away, only making Jaehyun continue as if he didn't get ignored.

"Either way, thanks for keeping her company. "

Placing Areum in the backseat and placing her bag in the boot, the man known as Uncle Jung gets into his driver's seat and begins driving away. Donghyuck can only stand with his fists balled up as he watches the car stride away. In his head, although the situation was sickening, he already told himself he wouldn't get involved. His mum's reputation, as well as his own reputation was on the line.

"Poor girl." Donghyuck sighs walking back in the school to lock it up.

•

"Jaehyun, thank you so much for looking after her," Yezi smiles giving her boyfriend, Jaehyun, a peck on his lips looking up into his eyes while picking up Areum from the floor and positioning her on her hip. "I hope she wasn't a bother,"

"She's never a bother to me," Jaehyun smiles placing his finger over his lip causing Areum to giggle hiding her face in her mother's neck.

"Did you have fun baby?" Yezi asks with a dashing smile making Areum cheerfully nod her head.

"Yes mummy! Uncle Jung and I played together!"

"Yes we did. She's so obedient," Jaehyun has a proud smile looking at the little girl in her mummy's arms, before he looks back to her mummy. "Are you sure you don't want her to spend the night with me while you're on your family dinner? I don't mind, it's Friday."

"I really wish I could leave her with you, but my sister's coming for the first time in such a long. She'd really love to see Areum,"

"That's alright, my darling," Jaehyun pets on Areum's head puckering his lips waiting for her to place her lips on him and she does.

At first for Yezi it used to be weird that Areum allowed for Jaehyun to do that when she was very conservative with people, but after some time and after getting used to it, she found it adorable how Areum opened up to Jaehyun in so many ways. "Have fun alright my little puppy,"

"Okay Uncle Jung," Areum grins and waves her hand. “Bye-bye uncle Jung,"

"Bye puppy,"

"Mummy is your sister really coming?" Areum asks with hopeful eyes, causing Yezi to frantically nod her head. "I can't wait to see her! I have a joke for her?”

“Let me hear it,” Yezi laughs slightly while walking.

“What do dogs do when they need a break while watching a movie? They put it on paws.” Areum begins laughing hard when her mum laughs as well.

“That’s a good one,”

“Mummy are you happy?" Areum asks.

Yezi laughs and places Areum down so they can hold hands and walk in the house. “I’m so so happy,”

•

18:50

"How do I look?" Jeno asks for the upteenth time, nervously adjusting his long sleeved shirt into his fine ironed black suit pants. He clears his throat testing out his voice with the syllable 'ah'. Dae, standing in front of him with her hands on his shoulders, peers into his wandering eyes waiting for him to relax. "How do I look? Do I look good?"

"You keep asking me the same question?" She lightly smiles, finding his whole nervous state funny.

"That's because you haven't answered me," Jeno inhales and exhales.

"Well, the first time I said you look good, the second time I said you look charming, and the third time I said you look handsome, the fourth time I said you look spot on, and for the tenth time, I said you look, just fine babe." Dae ends up holding onto his fidgeting hands, giving her best smile radiating joy as she leans in close and embraces her lips upon his. Jeno freezes, yet he meekly indulges into the kiss. After a minute, she parts from him. "Baby, relax. It’ll all be alright."

He takes in a deep breath holding onto Dae's waist as he closes his eyes. Taking in another breath, he tries to calm down his nerves. Feeling Dae's hands against his chest, he feels reassured that nothing will happen today, because she is with him. “You look beautiful as always, but tonight you look really happy. I’m happy that you’re sharing this happiness with me,”

After several years- specifically 3 years of them dating, and of them living together and encouraging each other- Dae's father had finally had a change of heart in wanting to see and reunite with his daughter again, and meet the man she chose to love.

Although it happened about 5 years ago, the sight was deeply plunged into Dae's father, Zhong Chenle's mind. It's something that made him feel guilty and responsible for his children’s sufferings. The works of his hands, enclosed and trapped his daughters inside of a hell hole. But as years progressed, and Yezi's child, Areum, grew, he found his stone cold hateful heart slowly melt. The little baby girl looked so much like Dae. Despite being a child of a rapist, she inherited features of the family. Chenle couldn't help but warm up to the little girl whenever she called him 'gwanpa'. With his heart melting by the innocence of the child, he slowly got the strength to look his daughter Yezi in the eye and talk to her. The first few days were tough, as she had been longing and praying for her dad to finally notice her, but eventually she took the same pace as him and slowly they rekindled their relationship of father and last born. And this evening, Chenle was ready to open up his heart again, for his eldest daughter Dae and her new...boyfriend.

The first born, the first daughter of his family, the daughter which always shared her worries and joy with utmost elevation to her father, his first love ever since his ex-wife walked out on him. He wanted to reconnect with her, and never let her go again- even though she chose the path that she was on, he wanted to stand by her and at least try to be in her life again.

So as the sun sets and Chungdae walks around the dining room table adjusting the utensils and making sure the table was set and ready to eat, Chenle buttons up his traditional outfit and fixes his hair in the mirror.

Areum bounces around the room playing with the little dog Daegul, and from time to time looks up to her grandfather. "Gwanpa?"

"Yes my little bean," Chenle responds carefully pressing his hands down his clothes.

"You look nice." Her smile enlightens on her face when he turns around with a smile and picks her up.

"What did I tell you about that word ‘nice’?”

Areum giggles and stands straight. “Nice is dead. Gwanpa you look smart, and rich!” She cheers causing Chenle to smirk with pride.

“Thank you, my little bean." He tickles her stomach. "You don’t look too bad yourself, you look like a royal queen going to a ball,"

"Thank you gwanpa! Gwanpa I have a joke I want to tell mummy’s sister." She circles her hands around her grandfather’s neck as he carries her outside his room and down the stairs.

“She can’t take jokes easily,” Chenle suppresses a laugh when remembering how bad his daughter’s jokes used to be.

After the whole incident that went down and his house burning up, he made arrangements and building construction started again before he instantly moved from the secluded area and settled into a stronghold of fortification that was suitable for his status- in other words, he moved far away into a house of more wealth and power. Just like his previous home, it was situated on a barricaded hill, however instead of it being guarded within a residential gate, he hired his own secretary to look over the massive barricaded land that enclosed his mansion.

So as Jeno and Dae are driving along the road following the GPS signal of the new address of the Zhong Chenle residence, Dae instantly feels little, very tiny when coming to see her father. All that her father was able to achieve in his life time, all his inheritance, fortune, wealthy, position, status, level, money, all of it belonged to only him. A great man, with great power and authority.

"You have reached your destination." The GPS lady says.

Both Jeno and Dae's eyes are enlarged, dazzled and awestruck by the large high-end white concrete border building. "T-this is the house?" Jeno meekly asks. "Fuck me. We literally drove parallel to this wall and you're telling me, that this is the place?"

"There's the gate there," Dae notices the gate a distance away.

Jeno starts his little polished wagon and drives forward to the black high gates. He washed his car and polished it so many times, and even took it to the car wash and had it washed more than 5 times, all so that he could impress Dae's father and have him see himself as a suitable partner of his daughter. But now driving with his red wagon towards the gate, he feels worthless and poor all over again. Who did he think he had become? Just because he loved a rich girl and a rich girl loved him back- didn't make him rich all of a sudden. He was still a poor boy from nowhere.

Dae, seeing the distraught and down casted look shadow on Jeno's face, sets her hand on his thigh that nervously bounced up and down. He takes in a deep breath and presses his lips together when reaching the gate. The gate is completely black and doesn't give any view of what's inside.

Looking at the white wall that has a little black tinted window view, Jeno rolls down his window and awaits for the tinted window to open up. He sticks out his hand and presses on the little poll that had a little intercom.

"Hello?"

No response. Upon waiting for a response Jeno turns to Dae after a while. "Should I knock on the window?"

"No, wait, let me try and send my sister a message and see what we should do," Dae says, bringing out her phone and texts Yezi for the first time in 5 years, stating that she's outside. Yezi responds in a heartbeat making Dae feel much more relieved about there being no hard feelings between her and her family. No longer feeling awkward for being outside for more than 5 minutes. "Yezi says we should tell him our names and that we were invited by Mr Zhong."

"Alright," Jeno nods his head and takes a deep breath. "I suddenly don't feel like wanting to see your family,"

"Me too," Dae replies honestly chuckling lightly.

Living with Jeno, in his world, has really casted some kind of spell on her. From recovering from her overdose and intake of drugs, to being thankful for the hospitality she received from Jeno… the beauty of enjoying life at the expense of very little, is something she grew into. For so long, being away from a prestigious lifestyle, she got to appreciate and adore the simplicity of everything (even though she really had to adjust to many things, she enjoyed the simpler life). "I feel so small,"

Jeno opens up his palm looking into Dae's eyes with assurance. Dae places her tiny hand in his and he lightly squeezes it. They sit silently simply looking at the daunting gates of riches in which resides Dae's family.

"You know," Jeno gently speaks. "On that night, the night Mark, Haechan, Renjun and I invaded your house, we were actually sitting outside, in the car. We came when the sun was slightly still in the sky. We sat outside and watched your house as the sunset over it..."

Dae listens. To think that of all people to save her, Jeno would be the one who helped her escape a deadly fate only made her appreciate the good that was hidden in the rough. As much as she'd like to forget that horrible incident, she knew just how much more guilt Jeno felt every time he brought it up. It still kept him up, and as much as you wanted to heal from the night, Jeno as well wanted to heal from everything he had done that night. And it’s in moments like these when he speaks, you listen and allow him his moment to reflect, just as he allowed you to freely use him as much as you wanted so that you could heal. As he speaks, even though Dae has told him countless of times that she forgives him, Dae knows that every ounce of him wants to move on and feel forgiven. So she quietly sits, and listens. If he was going to forgive himself, she needed to always listen.

"The house, your house...was everything my brother and I always wanted. It was a palace, a fortress, four stories high, huge balconies, large veranda and just so homely. It was modern and even the air itself was something I'd never breathed in before. It was a home we've never had before." Jeno acknowledges. "I just wanted to see how it looked inside. I really wanted to know how the inside of a rich house looked like." Dae turns her head to him, when feeling his eyes on her. She moves between his left and right eye and he smiles. "You left a house that had more than 5 massive rooms, 2 spaciously large bathrooms and enormous backyards to literally cramp up with me in a one-bedroom apartment?"

"Spaciously is not a word and yes," Dae smiles lightly. "I left it all because it was all just material,"

Dae softly says smiling when Jeno leans closer and plants a kiss on her forehead. "Do you want something like this? Do you want materials again? Because I am promise you that I'll-"

"I only want you Jeno," She smiles when whispering softly. "I need you more than anything to survive in this world that was cruel to me. You're my home, and I really mean that. No materials on his earth can replace a soul that saved another soul,"

This time their breathing is in sync when they both embrace in a warm kiss, breathing in and out together allowing this moment to settle in. With their hands still clasped together as Jeno looks out his window to tell the guard who they are he’s stunned when the black metallic gates crank open in a slow manner and Jeno's head snaps to Dae who has her eyes on the road ahead. The gate is wide open with another path to follow, but Dae and Jeno are still in shock.

Jeno turns his head when a voice comes from the intercom. "Please move your vehicle inside the premises, Miss Yezi is waiting by the house."

“Miss Yezi?” Dae has a playful smile on her face. “Wow. I bet you she’s been treated like a princess,”

Jeno snickers while slowly driving his car past the gate and into the premises. The first thing that the couple takes note of, are the lights that are shining down on the pathway. Jeno and Dae's eyes are widely opened and are all over the large sets of trees that enclose the drive way- the long drive way with various gardened plants and flowers. It's absolutely breath taking watching the garden bloom with so much colors of wealth prosperity. In between the curvy path on the driveway, Dae's eyes look out by Jeno's side of his window to the slight view of the mansion that they were soon gonna get inside of.

Finally driving into one straight path, their view gets sidetrack by the large fountain statue of two angles pouring out water. Not only the fountain, but after passing another set of black gates that are already opened and rounding their car past the fountain, the lavish sight of the ever green garden with white little flowers enclose the garden really making the mansion seem like a heavenly fortress.

The houses theme is white. There are high pillars towards the front entrance of the house as well as arched pillars on each side that lead to different roads. Behind the pillars stand 3 large structures of the fortified mansion. The middle portion is the largest with a high double deck structure where all the windows are top to ceiling and are covered with gossamer curtains. The side building structures that are still connected to the middle portion are identical in terms of design and the layers of floors.

Stopping the car right by the side of the path, Jeno's mouth hangs open, not closing at the slightest. "At this point, your dad is trying to show off,"

"You don't say," Dae is marveled by the sight, that she doesn't notice her sister who walks down the lit up stairs heading towards their car.

Yezi's eyebrows furrow when neither of the people in the car get out. She stands there for a bit before walking towards the passenger’s door and knocking twice on the window- knocking both Jeno and Dae back to their senses.

Dae removes the seatbelt and laughs lightly. "This is it,"

"This is it," Jeno nervously says. "Best of luck to us,"

"We need that," Dae leans close to her boyfriend placing a light peck on his lips before opening up her door.

"Finally." Yezi states with a snickering laugh and a smile that eagerly begins to grow. "What was taking you guys so long? After I sent the message and you didn't come right in, I had to check with the gateman and he said the car was just there. But of course knowing you and your ever stubborn behavior, I knew you wouldn't tell the gateman anything,"

"Why should I? I'm my father's daughter, I don't need to introduce myself as a guest," Dae jokes being happy to see her sister. The tears sit on the brim of her eyes, and just like Yezi they instantly embrace each other in a tight hug. Yezi whimpers and holds even tighter.

“Dae,” She sniffs and can’t stop the tears from pouring out. “You look so good, I’m so happy to see and your beautiful eyebrows and hair being a beautiful black,” This only makes Dae laugh.

“Don’t remind me of those times,” Dae can’t stop laughing when hugging her sister. “Seeing you, seeing this house, dad outdid himself this time in making me feel bad,"

"Oh please, don't fuel up his ego," Yezi chortles shaking her head but still holding tightly onto Dae with her eyes closed. "He barely leaves the house now,"

Dae laughs at that patting Yezi's back. "Your poor freedom is gone,"

"Oh please, I can leave the house whenever I want," Yezi jokes out laughing with Dae. "I just need to take a bodyguard with me,"

"Bodyguard?" Dae's eyes widen and leans her head back still enclosing her sister in the hug. "Fuck, things have changed,"

"Language." Yezi's eyes widen. "We now refrain from cursing, I don't want my little girl latching onto that stuff,"

"Ncawww, Areum, right?" Dae squeals getting into the hug again as they both scream like little kids. "I can't believe I finally get to see her,"

"Dae! You have no idea how much I've missed this, missed us,"

Dae leans her head back with loving eyes looking into her sister’s teary eyes. "Don't cry, if you cry you know my tears will flow out as well,"

"I know, but I can't help it," Yezi chuckles before sneakily landing a kiss over her sister’s lips. Dae is stunned for a whole minute before laughing out and squeezing Yezi into a greater hug again. After a minute of laughing and saying out their 'I love you', they finally part and Yezi's eyes go down her sister’s attire. "Oh my soul you don’t know how amazed I am by your eyebrows and your hair, and your body and your health! You look nourished and healthy and soo soo good! My sister is finally back!"

Complementing Dae's healthy figure, her black hair in curly waves tucked behind her ear to show off her twinkling earrings, stunning legs in a white tight dress that ends mid-thigh, matched together with a black long sleeved turtle neck inside, white daring heels and finally a tiny white purse.

Dae's hand goes down her dress and she models for Yezi with a joking tone. "I know, I know, I tried," Dae laughs acknowledging her sister and nodding her head. Jeno can only stand by his car smiling at how gorgeous Dae looks. This was the Dae that he always admired, and now that she recovered she looked as stunning as ever.

"I'm not even one to look at, you're wearing designer? Vera Wang?" Dae's eyes marvel at the designer black sleeveless dress that showed off her toned arms and a bit of her belly. And finally the black see-through flowing skirt that has a little tight black skirt inside and is long yet has a long slit up to her thigh.

Yezi also playfully models out and flips her hair. "I knew my sister was coming today, so I had to dress to impress," Yezi laughs.

“You killed it!” Dae encourages with sass making Yezi laugh.

“No you killed it!”

“I just wish I was somebody else to admire how we both killed it,” Dae flips her hair dramatically before Yezi holds onto her sister’s hand and leading her forward.

"Wait till you-"

Dae grips onto Yezi's hand tightly before motioning back to Jeno who is calmly standing like a doorman. When noticing the eyes of the girls on him, he quickly bows his head nervously, making Dae smile brightly. “My person here inspired me to kill it. Come on baby,” Dae marvels and walks to him bravely intertwining their hands. “This is my sister, Yezi,”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Yezi,” Jeno bows again maintaining a positive smile.

"Oh, hi," Yezi's tone simmers down but she tries to maintain the forced fake smile on her face. While Chenle was ready to give Jeno a chance, Yezi wasn't too fond of allowing her sister to be with a lowlife and someone who was involved in keeping them hostage. But aside that, she bows her head as well. "Wow you guys are matching." She takes in the view of Jeno's elegant face that comes out dashingly with his styled and parted hair that gives off a sense of superiority. His style of clothing consists of a white buttoned down long sleeved shirt and black suit pants with his polished dress shoes, and Yezi notes how he's standing and how humble he looks. He can try to look like them as much as he wants, but Yezi still had bitter feelings. "Well, welcome. Come on in," She smiles and stretches her hand out to the stairs leading to the mansion and eventually the people inside, that are awaiting them.

Dae stands close to Jeno, abandoning Yezi's hand to securely wrap it around Jeno's bicep. "Babe, you've got this. Just relax okay,"

When dressing up for the occasion, he thought he went overboard with the dress pants as he never wore suits too much- but seeing how Dae followed his lead and decided to dress up as well, he praises the heavens that they didn't second guess their outfit. What would've happened if they dressed in normal clothes?

Climbing up the lit up stairs together, Jeno and Dae are finally in front of the door.

The double doors are wide open and upon entering into the new ambiance of the home and removing their shoes, replacing them with the white slippers available, Jeno rubs his sweaty hands over his black pants and swallows a clump of saliva in his throat to give it some moisture. He felt like he was going to die, by the pace his heart was beating.

"Babe, you've got this," Dae encourages and holds onto the sides of his face massaging his neck. Jeno nods his head, suddenly feeling selfish. Here Dae was, giving him some air and encouragement, even though she's the one who walked out on her family and was also seeing them for the first time after years.

"You too," He holds onto her hands on his neck and smiles lightly.

Yezi watches from afar, seeing how strangely, adorable they both looked. Her sister, who she never thought could fall in love with someone who had no money, is suddenly looking up into the eyes of her lover with so much care. And the lover, Jeno, who Yezi once thought was just a sick criminal, looks like a little cute boy under the embrace of his mother. Even though she doesn't say it, and refuses to acknowledge it, deep down, they look happy and peaceful together.

Walking over to Yezi with their hands together, Yezi leads them in the house and Jeno has to keep himself from ogling at the house for too long. After passing a long corridor and walking into the entrance of the living room, Jeno's heart stops beating.

In the living room, Chenle and Chungdae stand side by side, with little Areum clinging to her grandmother's hand. When entering the living room, the first face that lights up instantly is Chungdae when seeing her gracious step-daughter who she loved the most. Her teeth are bright and so inviting that Jeno feels at peace when seeing a friendly face. Chenle on the other hand looks composed and modest- but his face morphs into shock when both Jeno and Dae get on their knees and bow down completely with their heads touching the floor.

He and Chungdae share eyes of surprise. Chenle tries not to laugh maintaining a sincere face again, just as Chungdae speaks up. "Oh, much appreciated," She says as Jeno stands and helps Dae up on her feet. The loving eyes from Chungdae and the warm smile, makes Dae want to cry by how familiar her mother's face was.

"Hi mum," Her own smile brightens up her face as she bows again, this time her head lowers slightly. Her mother is dressed in an elegant traditional styled hambok, and Dae's afraid to wrinkle or mess the dress, but when Chungdae steps forward with loving open arms and embraces Dae- Dae's can't help but wrap her arms tightly around her mother's frame "Mum," she lightly cries, laughing a little when her mother kisses her ear.

"My sweet," Breaking up the hug, Chungdae squeezes Dae's cheek and let's her go before looking to Jeno.

Jeno awaits for the smile to wither from her face, but is surprised when it's still there. "Good afternoon madam," Jeno bows down in a 90-degree angle, thinking that when he looks up her smile would've disappeared, however, when it's still on her face, he's completely stunned.

"Welcome," Chungdae bows her head as well patting his shoulder. "And you can call me, Mrs Chungdae, you're welcome here. It's good to finally see the both of you,"

Chungdae steps back and turns to Chenle. Dae and Jeno fix their positions to look at Chenle. Dae is hesitant, when looking into her dad's eyes, but regardless still tries to do so. Her smile is shaking and all she feels like doing is crying. The last time she saw her dad, a lot of harsh words were exchanged- she was not even in the right state of mind for most of those times. Her smile is rocky and her eyes blur up with tears that she can't even look at her father anymore, she hangs her head in shame. Jeno from the side, feels his heart wear down when watching her silently break down in front of her dad. He breaths in and gently slides his fingers in her hand before squeezing it, for comfort and strength.

He then turns to Chenle, who still has his somber eyes on his daughter. "Good afternoon sir. Thank you for your invitation. For allowing your daughter to bring me here." Jeno bows down in a 90-degree angle humbling himself completely. Dae follows as well, bowing down with her eyes closed to maintain herself. Standing up straight again, Dae clears her throat.

"Hi dad. Thank you..." She softly speaks and her voice shakes again not being able to meet his eyes and thus bows down again- and Jeno willingly follows. "Thank you for your invitation. And I'm so sorry for everything I've done. Please can you forgive me, for all the words I’ve said, the stress I caused you and mum, the hate I spread in the house, please forgive me dad. I truly apologize for all that I’ve done, and I beg you to forgive. I said a lot of things to hurt you, but I didn’t mean any of them and I’m sorry for how I left. I’m sorry dad."

"My daughter," Chenle meekly raises his hand laying it on his daughter's head. Feeling his hand on her head, she squeezes her eyes shut to not break down again. Chenle's face is holding back so much on emotions, but it slips out when he feels the head of his daughter. "I forgive you, please don't cry. You know I don't like it when I see you cry,"

"Thank you, for this invitation," Dae stands up straight again with a smile on her face and her eyes still watery. Chenle's hand retreats but he’s taken aback by the wave of emotions that pass over him when Dae engulfs him in a hug so dear and deep. Chenle can’t resist and sets his arms over her shoulders in protection like he had always done. Finally, his daughter has returned.

Smiling when feeling her dad’s arms around, she nuzzle’s her head a little more on his chest, before she separates from him and bows her head down again. Chenle’s face is glowing with pride and excitement and he turns to Jeno who also stands straight. Chenle bows his head quietly acknowledging Jeno.

"My name is Zhong Chenle, you can call me Mr Zhong." Chenle addresses Jeno in a fluid tone, with no harshness or strictness, simple and calm. "What's your name?"

Jeno bows lightly. "Thank you Mr Zhong. My name is Lee Jeno,"

The name makes Chenle tense but he nods his head. If his daughter chose him, then he’d need to get down to the bottom of it and see why. It was up to Chenle to see how serious they were. "It's a pleasure to meet you Lee Jeno," Chenle greets and turns his head to the side, down to the little girl who just looked up with an erratic smile. "This little bean right here is Zhong Areum,"

Chenle introduces them to Yezi's daughter, making Yezi smile. Ever since Areum was born, Chenle refused for the baby to have his surname. So seeing the love traverse from him to her daughter, a flow of content joy washes over her.

"Hi mummy’s sister!" Areum chirpily greets, brightly before shyly leaning on her grandfather when Dae puffs her cheeks in delight. Chenle picks her up patting her back telling her to carry on. She waves her hand to both Jeno and Dae who wave back with big smiles.

"Areum, this is Dae, your aunty," Chenle speaks in a soft cradling voice making Chungdae laugh. "And this is Mr Lee, your aunty friend,"

Jeno doesn’t feel any jab from Chenle referring to him as a friend, but Dae does. She was hoping that her dad wouldn’t diminish Jeno into that position.

"Areum what do we do when we greet people?" Chungdae questions calmly watching Areum.

"Gwanpa, can you put me down, so I can greet?" Areum asks cutely with big eyes. Chenle sets her down patting her head.

"Of course, my little bean,"

Areum places both her hands over her stomach and dress and bows down. "Hello Miss Dae and Mr..." she quickly looks up and looks to her grandfather.

"Mr Jeno," He assists patting her head again as she returns to bowing.

"Hello Mrs Dae and Mr Jeno." She finishes her bow and does a little curtsey with her dress gaining an applaud from Chungdae, Yezi and Dae- automatically making Jeno clap his hands. In his head all he can think of is how she looks like Dae…but as a little girl. “I have a funny joke, what does a clock do when it's hungry?”

“What?” Dae smiles.

“It goes back four seconds?” Jeno asks but gets surprised when Areum begins laughing and giggling suggesting that it’s correct. That makes the family clap again, making Jeno shake his head with a little smile on his face. Chenle coo's in a baby voice.

"Aigoo, my little bean sprout is all grown up," He picks her up again with a dashing smile, before turning to Jeno and Dae. "Make yourselves comfortable, you can follow me to the dining room,"

Jeno turns to Dae squeezing her hand tighter. His nerves were still high, but upon the warm welcome and the tension sliding down because of the little baby girl, Jeno feels slightly relaxed. "This is it,"

Dae nods her head, following behind Chungdae and Yezi, who follow behind Chenle who is still carrying Areum and whispering into her grandfather's ears. "Gwanpa, is that really really mummy's sister?"

Chenle nods his head with a smile. "Yes, she’s your mummy's sister,”

"Gwanpa, if I’m a queen would that make her a princess? I wanna make her a queen because she looks nice- beautiful,” Areum corrects herself before charmingly complimenting Dae. “Why does she look beautiful?”

"Because she's my daughter," Chenle cackles a little, he never got tired of the endless questions that left her mouth or how much of a chatterbox she was. It's moments like these, where he hopes that his little granddaughter, didn't inherit any bad or foul manners from the savage rapist. She was such a passionate young and vibrant soul that Chenle easily found intriguing and alluring.

“Gwanpa, Mr Jeno looks like a prince, I think he likes her a lot and wants to become a King,”

"You should ask him if he wants to be a king," he pats her nose still answering to her questions, meanwhile thinking of all the questions he wanted to ask Jeno.

"Do you think daddy will go hard on Dae and him?" Yezi asks calmly to her mother.

"Let's hope not," Chungdae replies. "I feel like he might want to embarrass him a bit. He kept talking about that nonstop all through the night, but he did also mention how he wants to reunite with Dae again,"

Yezi groans. "Fingers crossed, it doesn't get awkward."

Meanwhile Jeno holds onto Dae's hand like he's on life support. Dae wraps her fingers tightly against his as well. "No matter how intense it gets, just answer honestly. My dad will try everything he can to belittle you, but remember what I said at home, don't let him break your spirit, he hasn't walked a mile in your shoes, so don't mind if he doesn't understand." She says, words that always made Jeno feel more drawn to her.

The dining room is large, and has an extremely large round circular table, with various of decorations and platters of food on a rotating stand. Areum waves her hand to her mum as one of the servants walks away with her. Jeno and Dae, wait for the family members to take a seat before finding themselves next to each other and sitting. Chenle acknowledges that and is impressed.

Dae smiles secretly, knowing that her dad loved order and discipline. And if Jeno could at least show that he was capable and worthy to dine with him, then Chenle would ease up a bit on him. He simply wanted to see how well-mannered the boy was, since he was groomed by misfortune, Chenle wanted to test out how well he could be for his daughter.

Yezi is seated on the right of her father, while Chungdae is seated on the left of her husband and Jeno and Dae sit next to each other- being in Chenle's direct eyes vision. "Shall we eat?" Chenle asks and they all take in their utensils ready to feast.

As the rounding table makes the rounds and the servants walk around the table adding little side dishes here and there, Jeno feels much more overwhelmed then starved. From the many utensils on the table, to the little plates the servants put with tiny looking leaves, Jeno places his hand underneath the table lightly placing it over Dae's leg.

She turns her head to him, seeing him panic. Calmly she leans in and begins explaining that he can eat whatever, which plates he has to put the food in and which plates he dumbs the bones and what's not. Her whispered words of encouragement don't go unnoticed by anyone at the table, especially Chenle who picks up his chopsticks and watches the pair while he eats. Much to his distaste Jeno snickers and Dae does so as well- he ignores it and clears his throat gaining their attention.

"Dae," Chenle starts.

Chungdae nervously turns to Chenle. His first target. Dae looks up and adjusts her sitting position before smiling. "Yes, dad,"

For some reason, Chenle's heart feels a little touched when hearing her say the word dad. It's been a while, a really long while. “It’s wonderful seeing you in strong health. For how long have you been clean?”

Dae clears her throat with a little smile. “2 years now.”

“Rehab or self-rehabilitation?”

Dae answers honestly. “Self-rehabilitation. Actually, the night I left home and went clubbing, I was hit by a car,” This causes all of them to look at her in worry. “I, uh. I broke some ribs and nearly lost my life because I barely had enough blood in my body. A blood transfusion was done, and when I woke up… I felt as though, a second chance of life has been given to me,”

Chenle’s heart aches hearing the story. “Why didn’t you come home after that?”

Dae briefly looks to Jeno, who offers a somber smile before rubbing her thigh. “I didn’t want to live my life like before. I felt trapped, and it wasn’t because of you,” Dae immediately clears up, holding onto Jeno’s hand. “I just, wanted to live alone for a bit.”

“A bit turned into years,” Chungdae speaks sadly but a smile regains on her face. “May I ask you this, this blood transfusion you did that saved your life, was it the young man’s blood?”

Dae nods her head with a smile. “He’s the one who helped me that night. Paid the bills, gave me blood, offered me a place to stay, he was always by my side,”

The warm tone settles upon Chungdae seeing her child look so bright and happy. “Well thank you Mr Lee for that. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been able to see our beautiful girl.” Chungdae smiles. “Please enjoy the food,”

Once again, everyone begins eating in a calm atmosphere. Jeno has never eaten so slow, as well as tiny bites in his whole life, however seeing everyone eat in a slow and paced manner, Jeno adjusts himself. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Dae as she snickers here and there covering it with a little cough.

Subsiding his friendly character, Chenle has his eyes on Dae who constantly looks to Jeno. "Dae,”

“Yes?” She instantly looks away from Jeno and to her dad feeling caught. She gulps, just as Chenle prepares himself.

“I’ve tried deviating from my culture merely because I didn’t want my daughters to be bounded by tradition. I’ve given you a good life, good education and have paved a way for a future that you can maintain. The family business of architecture as well as our lifestyle, you left it all for your own self satisfying pleasure because you felt ‘trapped’. I’m assuming you have a lot to showcase for your disobedience. Have you made a name for yourself by walking over our tradition?" The question alone brings Jeno into a front line of defense. Even though Chenle was her dad, Jeno wouldn't allow her dad to walk over how hard she had worked to get to where she was now. She worked extremely hard and Jeno was ready to defend. Unconsciously. However, Chenle unaware of the set eyes on him, continues on. "How's that going? What do you do?"

Dae feels heavy by the sharp arrow that was aimed for her heart by his words. “First of all, I am grateful for all the opportunities I was able to get while being here. Second of all, I never intended to disobey you dad. But I needed to do it for a clear mindset in what I wanted to do, in where my heart felt good. And lastly, I'm a Junior Editor."

"Editor? Junior?" Chenle poses in disbelief. "That's in the writing field. Meaning you don't get paid much, as for junior, you probably don't do much. What do you write about?"

Dae breaths in and nods her head looking up to her father. "I write articles on and for the youths of today and the struggles they face."

"That's like freelancing work." Chenle sighs out trying not to make it a big deal, but he's disappointed. His daughter. His first daughter scrapping by. He glances at Jeno. "And you Mr Lee. What do you do?" Chenle slurps on the fresh vegetable in a bowl, looking already bored.

"Photography."

"Wow, another freelancer." Chenle sounds dishonored much more then disappointed, and he continues to eat his dish of food. Yezi savagely tries to hold in her laugh replacing it with a cough and quickly looking down when Chungdae shoots her a glare. The couple of Dae and Jeno briefly glance to each other in hesitancy, but regardless they eat.

Just as Chenle is about to say something else, Dae along with everybody else get surprised by Jeno's voice. "You know Mr Zhong, not to be rude, and I say this with 'respect'-" only Dae catches on to his mocking tone, and gets worried for him. "Since you brought up your culture and tradition, according to the Zhong's line of history as well as your own private company's humble beginnings, small beginnings was were you started. So pardon me if this comes out rude, but truly I don't think you've got any right to be pissed off, you also left your family to please your own self satisfying pleasure-"

Dae's eyes widen and she places her hand over his thigh. "Jeno-"

But nonetheless Jeno still continues to speak. "To be pissed off at her career would mean neglecting her small beginnings. I don’t know much about your family, but what I do know is that your family’s legacy only grew into millions of because of you. What if Dae’s small beginnings allow her to reach your peak-"

"Comparing my family's legacy and personal company with Dae's quote on quote small beginnings sounds radically obscure. Do you even know who I am? My small beginnings lasted within a year, and I've been making millions ever since. Dae's small beginnings are small beginnings on a scale of failure," Chenle starts while setting his dish down, taking the next set of food while Chungdae grumpily adds some soup for him. She didn't like how his words sounded too harsh. Meanwhile Yezi has wide eyes glancing with a shocked face at her dad and then Jeno. “So tell me Mr Lee-”

Jeno breaths out, feeling Dae sinking in shame when she looks at her food and quietly eats. "You're talking about me as if I'm not here," She mumbles. “And my small beginnings aren’t on a scale of failure, you don’t know how hard I work-”

"Your lover is the one who started with the comparisons and small beginnings. You want to be mad at the truth? Suck it up and continue to embark on your sma-"

"Honey." Chungdae warns looking at him.

Chenle sighs. He nods his head whilst eating as if he's not having the conversation. "Do you believe that she'll make it big in her field Mr Lee?"

"I believe in her."

"I didn't ask if you believe in her. Because I also believe in her. And I much more believe she has a brighter career elsewhere, but what's important now is do you believe that she'll make it big in her field?"

"Yes-"

"Dae who never ever pays attention to the news, the same girl who barely gives an ear to those less 'fortunate' then her? My daughter? That same daughter who would never be interested in anything if it wasn't about her? The same daughter who got involved in hardcore drugs- that same girl caring for people seems unusual. A journalist? On top of that a youth journalist? Youth? Smart mouths with foul brains, those youth? Those same youth? Maybe she gives you a speck of patience, but I know my daughter. Does she really love what she does or is it just some passing want from feeling trapped? Does she have tolerance and patience for others? For you? My daughter wants to do journalism? That doesn't make sense to me," Chenle states out nonchalantly yet sternly. "I've seen her writing. And although phenomenal, she'd need a spark of light in her to empathize with youths. Regardless of what you say, I know my daughter much more then you. I know she's merciful, but in the field of journalism, it'll be used against her. With her temper, she'll easily get frustrated and allow for anyone to walk over her. I can't see, or even bare my daughter within a career where she constantly has to fight,"

Dae's stunned by his words. Never ever had he ever told her why he refused for her to be a journalist, he simply had a strong distaste towards any career that had a lack of funds. "Dream crusher much dad?" Dae chuckles sadly to cover up the pain.

"Dae, are those even dreams? To waste yourself away behind a screen writing for others? Dae. I'm…” Chenle refrains from using the words disappointed, but he’s already hinting at it. “I’m trying to understand. Why- why, why a journalist?"

Dae looks up to her dad in disbelief. "Because I’m a spoilt rich girl who’s gone through an experience that fucking changed my life forever-"

"Language Dae." Chungdae softly peeps being uncomfortable by all the slurs.

Dae stops and takes a deep breath. "I’m saying the truth of my life to reach people in dark-"

"Truth?" Chenle scoffs. "In the world we live in? Truth and people don't go together, because this world loves to be blinded. It’s why the rich are rich and the poor are poor, those who have eyes don’t help those who can’t see. Today a journalist would rather break an untrue story and say an apology later, they could break thousands of hearts, but one apology and everyone forgets. You're telling me you haven't seen those cases?"

"I've noticed that lately."

"You can spend years putting together a story to help someone see the light, only for some toddler with a social media account to just tweet it out, with low grammatical words. As for professional objectivity, try maintaining that while competing against teens dancing at the news, or on TikTok and what not, and in the rare case let's say you do get a real story, you will be backlashed because all you did was your job. The truth hurts and rubs on people the wrong way."

"So what are you saying dad?" She asks seriously trying not to be discouraged. Jeno, places his hand on Dae's thigh, running his hand up and down as a way to calm her down.

"I'm saying." Chenle stops setting up his bowl to look at his daughter. "As my daughter, it's really my desire that if there is anything else you see yourself doing, do that instead." Chenle ends the discussion without much say, getting his next bowl. "You’re smart and if you want people to see the light, use your intelligence to-”

"Mr Zhong, I really do apologize if I'm being rude," Jeno interrupts not being able to be calm anymore, especially after noticing Dae's sagged shoulders. Truly Mr Zhong was a businessman with ideals and head on strong facts. However, that could never beat how much effort and change that Dae has put in. Which is why, Jeno with resilient courage speaks up for Dae. "I hate to break it to you, but the Dae that left your house years ago, isn't the Dae sitting in front of you. Her intelligence has changed and she’s adapted to street smarts too. I agree that Journalism isn't possibly the career that you invasion your daughter in, but she's similar to you in many ways. You started out with a master’s degree in Research, you left Research to join your family’s legacies of Doctors, before leaving it all together and had to dump it all including your family to finding out what you really wanted to do. But I digress, how can you put her down when I read that you even went as low as being a brick man and laying bricks for a living? You eventually decided you wanted a career in construction. Humble beginnings should never be neglected. If you didn't disqualify yourself, why discourage her, your own daughter? And if you're talking about money, then let me I’ll say it now, she makes money more than me-"

"Are you giving me street psychology now?"

Jeno breaths in deeply smirking a little when seeing a challenging look in her father’s eyes. "Street psychology makes you learn lessons the hard and painful way. Being rock bottom teaches you of success that being rich can’t. I've been with her ever since she left your home, so I know what I'm talking about when I say she's had a fall from your grace. But look at her now," Jeno turns to her, throwing a little smile and lightly patting her cheek (causing Dae to smile a little) before turning to Chenle, who even stopped eating to firmly be attentive to Jeno after publicly displaying such a manner. "I too, worry about the giant dumpster fire of twiddling toddler's, but I also don't care about that and I know she doesn't care about that. She writes for a living you know, she's always been writing and has tweaked her personalities here and there to adapt to the life that she's wanted. And if she can write a piece that has touched an orphaned boy's heart and stopped him from spiraling down into a dark path of drugs, then I know and have the belief that she's broken through the noise you’re projecting. I don't know why she isn't saying it now, but she always says, she wants to make a difference in all the ways that she can. That’s a fucking huge commitment if you ask me. And I'm not trying to take your place or anything like that, but even if she does fails in her projects, I’m here for you no matter how many times. You haven't been there for her, so you don't have that right to criticize or be disappointed in her achievements so far. I’m saying all this respectfully. I don't mean to sound rude or come of impolite, but the truth is the truth, and it can rub you the wrong way, so swallow it like a bitter pill."

“Well said, you’re the one living with her.”

Dae has a warm look in her eyes when looking to Jeno, her boyfriend, her choice, her messed up but one of the many right choices. How passionate he's been in defending her, whether it was to someone he never knew or someone she knew, and not allowing anyone, not even her dad, to walk over her. He's made it clear, time and time and time again, how he won't let anybody ever talk down on her or disrespect her. And its kind of alarming for Dae that Jeno just said all that while being ‘respectful’.

It's tensely silent with Chenle paying mind to his food instead, Chungdae and Yezi holding in their breaths, Dae smiling while eating on her meet- and Jeno returning back to his senses and freaking out. "Fuck." He mumbles, but instantly feels Dae's hand on his thigh. He turns his head seeing her reassuring smile. She mouths out a sweet thank you. It's enough to subside his irrational thoughts and focus on how calm she is.

Chungdae smiles when noticing the adoring look in Dae's eyes. Chungdae faces Chenle and picks up another bowl of rice before placing it before him. He looks to her, still eating his own bowl of meat and soup, and as if being summoned by the rice Chungdae lightly grins, and nudges her head towards Jeno and Dae. Chenle takes a look for himself, his eyes catching a sight too traumatic and so heartbreaking.

Dae looking at Jeno, the same way she used to look at him as a child. As a father, his child will always be his child. No matter how irrational, no matter how unclear, no matter how confusing she might be, even when she's falling in love with a foe, she's still his daughter. His first daughter. His first love whom he loves with all his heart. He doesn't know what's the name of the emotion that covers his whole heart when seeing Jeno, an unknown peasant briefly gazing at his precious daughter with stars in his eyes. And his daughter equally having eyes of fierce approval. He doesn’t like it, but he can’t put down how real it looks. He looks at Chungdae the same way too. And that scares Chenle because he doesn’t want her to marry such a guy.

She just came back home. His heart doesn't want to see her go just yet, especially not to a man who he still isn't too sure about. "Mr Lee."

Jeno peeks up and sits up. "Yes sir- I mean Mr Zhong,"

Chenle breathes out. "Are you treating this such as an interview?"

"Interview?"

"Seeing as though you've read my biography and probably Wikipedia, you seem to think that you have an understanding of my background," Chenle drinks a glass of water, firmly gazing into Jeno's stunned eyes. "Is that true?"

Jeno clears his throat, fumbling with his lips before nodding his head. "To be honest sir, I've known your work. The apartment my family and I lived in when we were little was actually designed by you."

"You could afford it?"

"Dad." Dae's shoulder slump.

Surprisingly Jeno chuckles. "It's okay babe- Dae, I mean." He quickly corrects himself, before turning back to Chenle. "I couldn't afford it, but my old man could....sort of. We lived with another family, so although tightly cramped, we all fit in together. To get back to you, being in that complex for a very short period of my childhood was sincerely the most mind blowing experience of my life."

"How so?" Chenle tilts his head. "And which complex was it? Situated where?"

"It's was called Clearview Water Hill. Situated in Goum NC."

Chenle nods his head. "I recall, it was amongst my first private building going public for government uses. It was labeled to be for the rich."

"To be honest, I felt rich as a young boy. The walls, corridors, rooms, even the water was so different. Not only that, but my dad was a construction worker so we watched a lot Construction channels. I had seen you appear time to time on tv. So regarding to me researching about you, I didn't have to do much except read it from Dae's pieces. The things I know about you are actually words Dae had written in her article pieces. She spoke extremely highly of you, it even gave off an impression that being in your presence is surreal. And it is… if I’m being honest."

Chenle is astonished (just when his mind slowly began to wonder if his daughter wanted to replace him), as his quick mind reflex suddenly pauses. His eyes turn from a sharp stare, to being enlightened. "You wrote a biography about me?"

"You used dad for clout?" Yezi laughs a little.

"What's clout?" Chenle asks, causing Yezi and Dae to snicker.

"It's slang dad," Yezi giggles.

Dae runs her hand through her hair swinging it back. "Not necessarily a biography, but advice on how to solidly build a future, brick by brick. I paid almost all my references to you and how successful you've been in paving the way brick by brick for your future,"

Chenle's face remains unchanged, yet Chungdae is in awe because she knows that Chenle is catching butterflies. Yezi is the one to voice it out. "Dae I told you not to boost his ego,"

This snaps Chenle out and he begins laughing. A sound which jolts Jeno out from his crave for the meat. His reaction makes Yezi laugh inwardly.

"Before I feel too honored. I still have to read what you wrote," Chenle remarks. "Word count?"

"2,500."

"Blog?"

"No, it's an article."

Chenle nods his head, shuffling in his seat bringing out his phone. "Name of website?"

"NationsWide,"

"Hmm," Chenle nods his head in approval. He's silent when scrolling through his phone, going through the about page and finding out the ratings of the website. Although it has a 8.8 out of 10 rating due to faulty writers and time consuming management, it has a high rating when it comes to work pieces. "It's a big shot company."

Dae finds herself smiling gladly turning to Jeno who pats her head- forgetting one of the rules that Dae put in place to not make any unnecessary physical contact. But she's happy non the less. “What’s the title?”

“I’m bad with titles, by it’s called Future Bricks Are Better Then Past Bricks.”

“It’s too long girl,” Yezi comments.

“I told her that too,” Jeno remarks smiling ligtly.

“Hey, I like it sounds good,” Dae cutely puffs her cheeks tempting Jeno to kiss her cheek, but he refrains from doing so.

Chenle searches up the title and immediately is impressed when seeing 5 stars in gold next to her article. That's his girl. He nods his head, as a smile crawls up his lips. "5 stars Dae, good job."

Her heart feels good. If it took Chenle simply reading from her article, then it would’ve saved time from Jeno backing her up. It's always difficult to get a reaction or compliment from him, so getting an actual reaction makes her feel joyous. Especially for something that he complained about minutes ago. In his silence of taking interest and suddenly reading his daughter's piece, Chungdae takes it as a cue to speak to Dae and Jeno.

"Are you two living together?" She smiles, causing a smile to grow on Jeno's lips as well.

"Yes,"

"Oh," Chungdae is a very traditional woman and always counters culture over modern society. So hearing that Dae and Jeno live together without having gotten married is a bit...it makes her feel uncomfortable for them. "Living together is such a huge commitment. It requires both of you to have an entanglement that you'll never leave each other,"

Jeno already being informed by Dae that her mother had the tendencies of being culturally educated, clears his throat in answering. "If it sets your heart as ease, we sleep in different rooms...to prevent us going too fast,"

"In going too fast, I assume you're talking about children?"

"Mum?" Yezi chokes on her food. "Please not that conversation, people are eating."

Okay," Chungdae nods her head letting out a little laugh with a hint of ease settling over. "That does set my heart at ease. I'm sorry if this makes you feel uncomfortable but, may I inquire about your financial status Jeno? You mentioned photographer, right?"

"Right," Jeno nods his head.

“Could you tell me more about it?”

"Uhm, mainly I work as an advertising photographer, so I range from models, to houses, to products even nature. So as a whole, I guess that’s stock photography. I have side jobs here and there as part time so yeah," he nervously peeks at Chenle wondering if he'd get pissed. However Chenle isn't even looking or paying attention to them, but instead continues to read, paying his whole mind to the article he's reading. He’s nearly done reading, but his ears also give an ear to hear the conversation.

"Hm." Chungdae nods her head. "Well, it's something. Who supports financially?"

"I pay house rent and Jeno buys our necessities," Dae mentions. But is unaware of Chenle's sharp gaze.

"Excuse me?" He suddenly perks up. "You're paying the rent?"

"Our apartment is under my name so-"

"Because of his felony charges?" Chenle perkily asks to which Dae shakes her head.

"Felony exceeds one year, so no. And he doesn't have a felony charge. It's because of his prison record of 10 months."

"And you're proud to say that?" Chenle mumbles doubtfully while shaking his head, continuing to read. Whilst Chungdae continues to ask Jeno, some more basic questions such as if he's religious, has siblings, has parents, if they know about Dae and his relationship- so on. Some questions Dae had never heard the answers to, as Jeno would completely ignore her or change the subject. Questions pertaining to his family. She never knew his dad died...no wonder he always made dark jokes about not having any.

"Meaning you're much closer with your mother right?" Chungdae questions with a sympathetic smile.

Jeno throughout all the questions that he doesn't want to answer he kept his head down and occasionally looked up from his food- even going on to eating more just to avoid the question or staying silent to ignore. But not knowing Chungdae, he isn't expecting her to nag on and on, and not wanting to make Dae's mother upset or cause Chenle to pin him out again he answers. "She kicked me and my brother out when we were teens."

"Now we’re getting somewhere." Yezi mumbles while folding her arms. "Who's your brother again? Was it-"

"Mark." Jeno stuffs his mouth again. Dae knowing that not only is he (slowly) getting enraged by the endless questions, she also knows how much he hates talking about his family.

So being alert she clears her throat. "Okay, mum I think you've got a pretty broad idea of who he is now,"

Chungdae smiles meekly. "You know Dae, when I first met your dad-"

Much to Yezi's disappointment, who hated this story with a passion (due to the fact that in her mind Chungdae was still considered a side woman) gets up going to look for her baby. "I'm going to check on Areum."

Meanwhile Chenle sets his phone down when he's done reading. Impressed with what he’s read, he approves by giving it a rating.

"As I was saying. When I first met him, he was already self-made, financially stable and had a big job. Everything was already there. However, he didn't tell me any of that. And I, didn't have a clue on who he was at the time. Meaning to say, I didn't have a pretty broad idea of who he was until I found out the basics as: what his beliefs were, what his priorities were, what his family thought of him, what he thought of himself deeply and what flaws made him human. Only when I found out all those things, was I... almost ready to be with him." A masked smile comes on her face. The type of smile that's ready to offend but not wanting to seem blunt. "Jeno, you seem like a fine young man right now. However, I'm worried that it might not be who you are when you're outside of our house. I don't know how you treat my daughter-"

"Mum-"

"Let your mother talk." Chenle blinks once turning back to Chungdae. This was supposed to be a grilling session for him to get to know Jeno. Yet with the way Dae gazes upon Jeno's face, worries Chenle. His heart isn't used to seeing this gob struck look of so called love on her face. Especially since he just met her. It's been years, so he doesn't want to cause tension that'll make her leave again.

It's better Chungdae does it and Dae listens, rather then him doing it and never seeing Dae again.

Up till now, and with the way that Jeno spoke on Dae's behalf on something that she was 'passionate' about, Chenle just doesn't like the idea of his daughter already being tethered to a man.

She still has a long life ahead of her, however being in a relationship limits her life and choices- oh gosh especially on her financial status. He wants his daughter to enjoy life to the fullest. And Jeno can't give her all that.

All that he can give her is words wrapped in love. And he doesn't want that for his daughter. His daughters deserved much more than cheap love and words.

"She has a point. The least you can do, is listen." Chenle says again a bit softly when looking into Dae's eyes. Dae inwardly groans, yet when turning her gaze to Chungdae she sighs with an upset face.

"Even though I didn't give birth to her, I know who she is. And I'm not trying to poke holes in your bubble but I am saying that you're from two different worlds. Two completely separate worlds. You won't clash on a lot of things. And right now, as happy and giddy as this relationship has been, remaining faithful together or even growing together won't be that easy. Jeno, judging from your lack of family touch, and your upbringing from your brother, I'm not too comfortable with my daughter being down below with you. I do see your passion and will to have a better life, but it might not be enough. Right now, I can most likely hope for your future to be filled with growth. Because I don't think it'll be easy. Based on your foundation, of how you both met, I'm still a bit... hesitant in accepting you. I just don't want this to end in foulness."

The silence lingers in the air with both couples, Chenle and Chungdae gazing at both Jeno and Dae. Jeno sets his empty bowl down having being full and listening to all the advice. Dae places her hand on his knee and he sighs. "If I'm completely honest Mrs Zhong, you're right."

Dae peeks her eyes to Jeno, hoping that what he’d say would contradict his statement.

"I do feel out of place at times when I'm with her. I feel that she deserves much better than me. Much much better than me. When driving here I even said that she left a mansion to cramp up with me in a little apartment. Look, I can't understand this, but I really really like your daughter and think that... she can do much better than me." Jeno nods his head agreeing. "But every time I think about her, or me, or, of us being together, I think of how much we've been through. It's true we met in uncanny circumstances but... The fact that she made the biggest sacrifice to stay with me, even though I gave her countless of reasons to leave, she still wanted to be with me, and that gives me the chills. Because she left your world, her world to be...in my world. And I can see where your concerns are, believe me when I say we've had this talk one too many times, but we always come to the same conclusion." His hand securely holds onto hers on top of his knee. "Only time will tell, if really this will work out, but I believe that when I stopped comparing her life before and her life now, it's made my head clear. And when she stopped seeing me as just that guy who broke into her house, we gathered a mutual understanding."

"What conclusions have you come to?" Chenle asks softly, his eyes on Dae yet he asks Jeno, because Dae's eyes are still on him.

Jeno clears his throat. "The conclusion that we're both humanly real and not perfect. And we can't be perfect, but if we keep trying to understand and love each other than yeah. I never knew how to manage my account and all that shi- stuff, but Dae's been really adamant on teaching me. I never knew how to cook. I only lived off by water and bread, but she knows and has taught me so many great dishes, especially the Chinese ones. I never mediated or did yoga before, but with her, every morning we're both up and yoga-ering as a way to restore our mental health. I've never been good at getting attention or knowing how to market, but Dae's a real professional at that and has helped me market my work. Not only to say she's an important aspect of my life, but she came from recovering from overdosing, not that I helped much but I made sure she worked out, ate healthy, spoke her thoughts, gave her a change of scenery, made sure she always saw the sun… I mean, if I also have to list the bad stuff, I can just say, she doesn't know how to keep her stuff organized. Always cluttered, everywhere and plain right messy- respectfully messy-"

"That's true." Chungdae chortles.

"But she's been improving, she now puts the toothpaste back in its case, instead of living it open and on the toilet seat. Not only that, but she used to stress so much so that she never slept, always up at night and working, but along the days I used to show her that she's got enough time to drop he shoulders, breathe, to unclench her jaw, to meet people who will understand her instead of being a kiss ass, to rest without feeling guilty, enough time to try as well as fail, to change paths, to close her eyes, to sleep and rest, to do so many things that she wants to do, her life is long. Another thing, she never knew how to be active, she's ambitious, but lacks the effort to actually move to get things done, she's always online. Yes she does yoga, but she always sat down behind her screen or desk slouching and writing, but now I can genuinely say she's keeping fit by constantly jogging, she exercises as well, and can throw a punch for self-defense, not to say I taught her how to be violent, but for a lady in her form I'm pretty proud that she can throw a man twice her size over her shoulder."

"I did it to him," Dae marvels cheerfully.

"I simply taught her what I know and she taught me what she knows. We're both taking the good in our lives and presenting it to each other trying to make our lives better and throwing the bad away. We read the newspapers together, watch the news, read psychology books and talk to each other and learn about each other. Because I love her and just want her to be happy without any restraints. We are both new to this love, so we're learning with each other not only how to receive love, but also how to give love. You know, she expresses herself through writing, she always writes, she struggles in speaking up for herself or formulating the right words for the right moment, thus it's why she used to be condescending and using her privileges to walk over people. But now, I don't know why she's not doing it now, but she gradually speaks and pushes herself to be genuine and understanding. Mrs Zhong, I understand that you don't trust me with your daughter, but I'm telling you honestly that I'm careful and gentle with her. I don't want to hurt her again, or even allow myself to lose her to a successful man who's got everything. I want to be everything for her. I'm working my ass off in getting to where I want to be, and making sure that she's happy and securely in her field. I don't have it now but I know that I'll get it. I'm trying my hardest, I'm putting my all and investing literally my whole life into this. I don't know what you want, but your daughter is here and she chose me, I can promise you that I won't put your family to shame."

Mr Zhong's ears are perked at Jeno's whole plea. He can see the ambition and drive in his eyes.

"Can I be honest with you right now." Chenle starts being equally respectful as Jeno has been. "I disliked you because you were poor and seemed unable. But. After reading what I've read, I can say that the Dae sitting before me, isn't the Dae with qualities that the world would reject like before. I'm still not for this relationship. But if I can at least have my daughter willingly help others, as well as herself, it gives you, Mr Lee, a mark in my books. It shows me how much you're invested in her. And another thing, if you, Dae, can't be pushed away from following your dreams, I think you'd be an excellent journalist."

"Thanks Dad," Dae smiles looking with admiration at her dad, causing Chenle to return the genuine smile.

"Keep writing pieces about me though," Chenle grins.

"Don't boost his ego," Yezi chuckles covering her face.

"Are you still hungry Jeno? Don't be shy if you want another round," Chungdae speaks up when seeing Jeno look at all the empty dishes. "There's plenty casseroles in the cuisine."

"Oh, no it's okay." Jeno smiles shyly. "Thank you Mr Zhong, and Mrs Zhong for the food. It was delicious,"

"I'm surprised you complimented Dae's cooking." Chungdae laughs before turning back and calling one of the maids names to come and remove the food. "Dae fights a lot when it comes to spices, especially with chili,"

"Well mother," Dae has a smug face. "Jeno here doesn't mind the spice or chili. He likes it hot,"

Jeno teasingly mumbles for only Dae to hear. "We're still talking about the food right?"

She playfully hits his thigh before turning to her mum. "I know what he likes to eat,"

"Honestly if you ask me, I still find it weird how you're with him." Yezi comments when the laughter dies down. Dae's jaw clinches but she eats on her rice (that she asked one of the maid to leave for her) remainign silent. But that's not the case for Yezi who glances up at her sister. "It's strange because I know you, and I know that this is not the type of guy you'd quote on quote fall in love with."

"Yezi." Chungdae calls out calmly, with intentions of warning her.

Chenle nods his head setting down his chopsticks when he's done swallowing a lump of meat giving his plate away to the maids. "No, Yezi's right. It's strange to see this, no disrespect to you Mr Lee, but it seems like Stockholm syndrome."

"That's so unfair. We just finished that discussion." Dae mumbles glaring at her sister and dad. "It's not-"

"I know," Chenle nods his head with a gentle smile. "With the way he's spoken about you, my ideas of him shifted. Perhaps it's not a forced love. I just need to get used to the idea of seeing you with him. That's all,"

"You can't force him down our throats, we still have to get to know him," Yezi comments.

"So Jeno, how about I get to know you more. If it's possible, drop me an email on your availability and I'll set up a date for you to come to my company."

Jeno's eyes widen. "Really?"

"I wanna see how good you are at your work of photography. There's some houses that will be completed within a week from now and I need some photographs. Will you be interested?"

Jeno gulps nodding his head. "Yes sir- I mean Mr Zhong."

"Good. Now if we all may, there's a resting area waiting for us,"

•

S1: EP14-16

22:48

"I can't believe you lied to my mum that we sleep in different rooms," Dae chuckles when entering the comforts of their shared room turning around to eye Jeno who unbuttons his shirt.

Jeno has a smug look on his face before tilting his head. "I mean, it's sorta true. I told you to take the other room, but somehow you’re always here even though your stuff is there,”

"That’s because it’s lonely sleeping alone.” Dae smiles when kissing his lips. “But still, I don’t know if she bought that.”

“If she did, then it’s best if we keep it under the wraps of how much of a freak you are in my room, in bed.” Jeno lightly chuckles, watching Dae walk backwards while running her hands up her body giving him teasing eyes.

“Regardless, I'm glad it went well.” She notes as she removes her shoes and gathers some wet wipes to clean off her makeup. “Gosh I'm so happy it went well. Seeing my dad and mum and Yezi and Areum was such a serene moment that I’ll never forget.”

Jeno removes both his blazer and buttoned down shirt turning to Dae who’s removing her makeup. “They were welcoming, I’m glad you invited me to experience this experience with you. Seeing you with your family only brought peace to my soul. At least you’re reunited with your family again, your mum, dad, sister…and even that little child. Although, I won’t lie, I’m surprised that your sister…kept that child,” Jeno tries to say without saying it. “It’s just odd,”

“I know,” Dae finishes cleaning the makeup off her face and applying some cream before she stretches her arms moving to the night stand lamp turning it on. “But you know what, she’s still my baby sister’s baby and I’m a proud aunt who gets babysitting rights.” Dae smiles brightly. “I just can't express it in words. I'm so happy right now." Dae smiles and bites her lip innocently. "Hey. Can you help me undo my dress?" Dae moves to the bed sitting down a little bit too exotically but Jeno still makes his way towards her.

Holding onto her calf, he kisses on her knee smiling before trapping her in between his body as he gets on the bed. “You’re so happy you’re getting turned on, I think this will be a problem,” Bending his head down, he softly smudges plentiful kisses along the side of her neck, licking and biting on her soft skin. He groans when Dae's hand secretly finds its way down his covered member and palms him soothingly.

"You forgot to tell my dad how good you make me feel,"

"Is that so?" Jeno rhetorically asks leaving envelope kisses on her collarbone whilst undoing the back of her dress. "Should've told him how well you suck me off,"

Dae giggles when her dress becomes loose, allowing her freedom to remove her arms and then her turtle neck- only resting in a corset and bra. Her lips crash onto his as he mouths his way down her neck undoing the strings of her corset. Having his warm fingers on her skin arouses her body to beg for him. She feels his big hands going behind her back unclipping her bra.

"Is this okay?"

"Mmh," She whispers. “Just do it,”

He continues to mouth his way up her body, her warmth on his tongue when he kisses her again. In sync they move together while staring into each others eyes. He’s panting, holding her tight while his stamina takes over him and he holds her into him, allowing her movements and his to be fluid, going up and down, moving together. She was his first and every time he’d get at it with her, he always felt the same as the first time. Special. He loved being inside her, how she made him feel. Under her skin and inside his head, he can’t help but press her into her hugging her tight as he pounds into her, his eyes on solely on her. Even though the struggle to keep her eyes open, his eyes are on her loving her every expression. She was so beautiful that he didn’t even know what to do.

When they both cum into each other, she’s left shaking on his member from the pleasure and that makes Jeno laugh. “I love when your legs do that, was it good?”

“Mhm,” She moans and slowly rides him circling her hips and bouncing lightly on him again. It goes on for another round, until they're both panting on the bed fully naked with steamy smiles. Jeno groans and curses out when Dae disappears underneath the blanket with a giggling laugh. “Fuck, are you not tired?” Jeno pants, feeling her mouth wrap around his shaft. “You don’t have to do it-”

Aside from having intercourse, the one thing Jeno didn’t ask for was blow jobs. Not only did it remind him of what his brother did to her, but he was afraid that her mentality consumed the behavior from the trauma she dealt with when Mark made her suck him off. Continuing to suck and blow, Dae doesn’t stop bobbing her head and taking him whole. For her, it allowed her to have control over the situation, rather than thinking that she had no power of her own. In general being with Jeno, slowly allowed her mind to cope with the fact that something happened to her, she can't change it, she has to come to terms with it, deal with it, and now move passed it. It was a cycle she was slowly overcoming, and with Jeno beside her, it severed her as a means that even if something bad came out, something good as well could come out.

"I'm going to shower," Dae gets off the bed being breathless, skimpily jogging seductively to the bathroom before peeking at Jeno who's eyes latch with adoration, she speaks up. "You should join me,"

"I'm coming," he smiles tiredly. Getting up from the bed stretching his arms, he picks up his own towel walking towards the bathroom however stops when hearing a faint knock on the door. He checks the time, frowning when it's late into the night.

He walks quietly to the door wrapping his waist with the towel. His eyes searching through the peephole. His eyes widen when noticing a familiar figure lighting up a cigarette.

Jeno ducks from the door when the figurine sends his fist flying to the door knocking on it. "Hello?"

Mark?

The person knocks for a while on, still smoking his cigarette. Jeno still ducked is confused and gets startled by Dae walking into the living room with a grin. "They you are,"

"Shh," Jeno mumbles with a panicked voice.

Dae's brows furrow. "Who's there?"

"Uh, I'm looking for someone,"

Dae suddenly hears the voice outside. She was asking Jeno, but hearing the answer come from outside she's perplexed. Looking back to Jeno who's chest goes up and down, she moves closer carefully. It seems he's hiding from someone. "Who're you looking for?"

"Does Lee Jeno, Lee Jeno live here?"

"Uhm.." Jeno sharply shakes his head in panic and Dae catches on. "I'm sorry but it's past midnight, and Lee Jeno doesn't live here,"

"Are you sure about that? Hey, please can you open the door. I'm a relative of his."

"I said Lee Jeno doesn't live here. Can you please leave before I call the police."

It's silent on the other hand before the man speaks again. "Fine, I'll come back in the morning. Let him know." Dae's about to speak in confusion but the person speaks again. "Tell him Mark came by. His brother. Alright. I'm going."

"Brother?" Dae quietly whispers and her eyes enlarge. Feeling exposed as though being ripped of her robe, Dae securely grips on her robe trembling back. "Jeno..." She pants out. "Was that, M-Mark?"

"I went to the address you gave me. Some woman was there, said he didn't live there." Mark yawns laying back on the ground next to Donghyuck who's looking up to the stars. "And what're you doing here bro?"

Laying down on the green freshly trimmed grass Donghyuck groans and opens his eyes. "I'm not your bro man. You shot me and my brother."

"You're still at that? Let the past be the past. Now that we’re both out, we should be looking out for each other," Mark chortles.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “I never got a proper apology from you,”

Mark fidgets around trying to find a good position. "I'm sorry for shooting at you and your bro. I keep saying that I thought that maybe it was the end for us. You weren't moving and we needed to go. At least shooting at you would permit them to focus on you while I escaped."

Donghyuck turns to Mark with frisky eyes. "You fucking say that with confidence."

"I'm sorry man." Mark apologizes lowly having a smirk on his face. "Should've had your back."

"Whatever." Donghyuck mumbles and sighs out. "Anyway. I saw that address in Officer Park’s visitation book. It literally said Jeno's residence, so I assumed it's where Jeno lives."

"The apartment looks too fire for Jeno. I don’t even think he lives there.” Mark scoffs. “Then again, it wouldn’t be so bad crashing with him.”

"Your brother seems to be in good terms with the police, he occasionally speak to his Parole Officer, Officer Na. So, I don’t wanna crash there." Donghyuck shrugs his shoulders not interested in talking about Jeno. "D'you find a job yet?"

"None. I just came out last week and am not willing to go back, but my patience is wearing thin on doing things the quote on quote right way." Mark sighs. "It's why I'm out here sleeping with you in a park like a homeless kid."

"I’m actually homeless dude." Donghyuck snickers lightly.

"Nah, your mum can take you back any time. You're just choosing not to go. Stubborn."

Donghyuck scoffs. “The day I stepped into prison was the day my family and loved ones began their ‘prison’ time as well. My bad decisions caused me to be separated from my family for years. Life for my family still went on and they had to learn how to navigate through the ups and downs without me. The harsh reality of losing my freedom was that I could not truly help my loved ones in times of need compared to as if I were present. It was a bitter pill to swallow knowing that I had also sealed their fate by my own hands. When I was there with them, I felt so out of place. I don't know how many years have passed, but her and Renjun are like an oil machine. They're so tight together and it makes me feel honestly like a fuck up son and brother. A fucking loser who only goes over when he’s hungry. I..Just left." Donghyuck finds himself honestly opening up. "Life would be better if I wasn't around them. And besides, I see her at work..."

After coming out of prison, he honestly tried to get back in his mum's good books, but it seemed really pressuring. Especially with Renjun ignoring him and pretending he doesn't exist. Donghyuck could feel the tension in the air whenever he was around them and he hated that. Even though he didn't want anything to do with Mark ever again, they surprisingly found each other again. Mark came out of prison by probation and was constantly kept on a leash. So obviously when he found Donghyuck under a large oak tree in a secluded park, he knew that his friend had been staying out of trouble, and joining him wouldn’t be so bad.

“But come one man, don’t you miss having a bed?” Mark asks. “We could crash at Jeno’s place until we get some shit together,”

“You do that. He’s your brother.” Donghyuck mutters. “And judging from the fact that he hasn’t contacted you should tell you that he may not be looking forward to reuniting with you. You said you heard a chick?”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbles. “She was like, Lee Jeno doesn’t live here. But I knew she was lying,”

Donghyuck chuckles lightly. “Well if that’s the case, and he’s got a girlfriend or something, he won’t let you back in easily,”

Mark groans. “I’m his fucking brother,”

“That’s what I said about Renjun, and he hates my guts,”

“Nah that boarder jumper-”

“He’s a citizen now,”

“Wow,” Mark snickers. “Either way, he was never your brother to begin with,”

For some reason that hurts Donghyuck, because he slowly started considering Renjun as a brother and everything he did was always for his mother as well as Renjun’s wellbeing. And despite being in okay terms with his mum, he also wanted to get back on Renjun’s good books. “Well if you wanna get back with your brother, I suggest getting him to sympathize over you because if he’s anything like Renjun, he won’t let you in his house,”

“That’s some brother,” Mark shakes his head. “But it’s cool, I’ll stay with you,”

Mark doesn't want to say it, but it's evident that they only have each other. While Mark didn't want to lose the friend he had, Donghyuck wanted to stay away as far as possible from him. “I thought maybe getting myself in an accident, like breaking my arm or starving myself, would have them take me in easily. But no, they’ve got stone cold hurts. But the little I know of Jeno, if you hurt yourself he could take you in,” Donghyuck plants the seed into Mark’s head. Now he’s just hoping Mark will take the bait.

It's why before dawn, before the sun comes out of its blanket, Donghyuck awakes early and gets ready for his day by simply wearing his leather jacket. His eyes go over to Mark before getting up and heading to his day job.

His mum was kind enough to buy him 2 extra pairs of trousers as well as 2 clean shirts, and Donghyuck kept them in the school’s janitor closet. He knew it wasn’t professional, but it’s not like the school would know- since the school also offered him janitor uniform which was a grey shirt with the school’s logo and white pants. So after cleaning his face in the male washroom, he heads into the tiny janitor’s closet to change up into his work uniform. The choice in color not only made him look approachable, but it singled him out as the cleaner.

Most of the time Donghyuck didn’t have to do much cleaning since the young kindergarten students would always clean up their home room classes early in the morning. Donghyuck only had to handle the staffs’ resting room, bathrooms, hall ways and occasionally cleaning outside the jungle gym. The kindergarten school was a moderately rich school with a big yard and no other buildings around. It had students from the age of 5 to 7, and only 7 staff members (including his mum), 1 principle and 2 janitors- in total 10 workers. The school had 6 working days, so Donghyuck worked Thursday’s to Saturday. With only a number of staffs team, the school wasn’t that big, but it was decently strong in the education department of training young students. One thing Donghyuck liked about it, was that it was a private school, meaning the young students were taught much more than the average kindergartener.

Donghyuck had students politely greet him, had some helping him with picking up trash and throwing it in the bin, and even (on some rare days) shared with him some of their merit sweets. But none of the students were like the little female student known by the name of Areum.

While she was like the rest of the students, politely greeting him, helping him after school when all her friends had gone and even giving him some of her merit sweets- ever since that day that they spoke on the bench, she was attentive to him.

“Hi Mr Sunshine,” She greets in a tiny voice that echoed loudly with a big bright smile.

Donghyuck turns his head down to the little kid, just as his mother who’s walking down the hallway towards him notices the little girl. “Hey kid,” Donghyuck greets noticing she has a basket and opens it up revealing some creamy cupcakes. She digs her hand inside and picks up one with a glittery label on a toothpick that said, Mr Sunshine. Donghyuck’s brows furrow with a little smile. “What’s this?”

“Today is my birthday,” She smiles brightly.

Donghyuck takes the glittery cupcake bending his knees and crouching down to be almost at eye level with the little girl. “You’re a leap year baby? How old are you now?”

“I’m now 6 years old,”

Donghyuck tries not to laugh. “Technically, you’re 1 years old because this is the first leap year in years, but I’m not gonna judge.” She smiles. “Well happy birthday kid. Did you make for your whole class?”

She nods her head.

“You’re a very kind little girl,” Donghyuck lightly pats her head smiling before he stands up. “Thank you for making me a cupcake. I don’t have a present for you now, but I can tell you a joke,”

“Okay,” She gets excited.

“Why did the clown go to the doctor?”

“Why?” Even before Donghyuck can finish, she already starts giggling.

“He was feeling funny,” Donghyuck puts emphasis on the funny as he moves his hands in a wave manner- and of course she loses her mind and topples over while laughing. Donghyuck pats her head cautiously. “Why don’t you head on to class. The bell’s about to ring, hurry,”

“Okay, bye Mr Sunshine,” She cools down from her laugh.

“See ya,” Donghyuck gets back up and drags the rest of the cleaning supplies back into the janitor’s closet. While opening up the door and goes inside, his mother (who stopped walking to watch the interaction) begins walking to the janitor closet only for her to freeze in her steps when noticing an all too familiar face…faces.

“Areum, don’t go too quick,” The lady in a navy nurse uniform turns into the corridor and finally sees the little girl. “Hey, wait up,” She walks with one large brown bag as well as a covered cake in the other hand just as a little girl, the same little girl Donghyuck was talking to, comes over and walks alongside her.

“Sorry mummy,” She smiles. “The bell’s going to ring,”

“Don’t worry about the bell, you’re going to mess up the cupcakes and doughnuts if you run too quick,” A man, standing next to them in a police uniform smiles down at the little Areum.

“Okay, I was just excited,” She bounces up and down. “I wanna give everyone a cake already,”

“Then let’s not keep you waiting,” The man has his hands filled with several plastic bags but still managing to hold onto the little girl’s hand. Donghyuck’s mother blinks twice and has to turn away while the pair and little girl walks past her.

His mother is in shock after recognizing that the police officer was Na Jaemin and the nurse looked exactly the same as the girl that had her house broken into by her son and friends, her name was Yezi. After they pass she quickly goes into the janitor’s room but stops midway when Donghyuck pulls the door open and dusts his hands while eating and chewing on the cupcake, being surprised to see his mum.

“Mum?”

“H-hey,” She greets with a tight smile, but then grabs his arm and quickly dashes outside of the building holding him tight.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Donghyuck asks as he’s being dragged out the building. “What did I do?”

“Donghyuck, who’s that little girl that keeps talking to you?” She asks when they’re outside taking in one big breath.

Donghyuck tries to think for a second when trying to get this mum’s question. “I don’t know, Areum, why? Is it because of the cupcake? It’s her birthday and she gave me one,”

“That’s not what I’m asking, I’m asking whether you know who this girl, as in her parents?” His mother tries to calmly ask out.

Donghyuck furrows his brows and shakes his head while shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know her parents. Why? Did she get hurt?”

Donghyuck’s mother can only stare at him with wide eyes feeling her heart beat fast. Her son just got out of prison and had been doing fairly well for some weeks now. She can’t allow anything bad to happen to him. “Look,” She breathes in nervously. “This little girl, just like all the other girls and boys have parents and families who are stacked with money and power. I just want you to be careful whenever you talk or engage with them. I doubt any of them would approve that an ex prisoner is a janitor at this school, they would lose their minds. I know these people. Which is why, I’m saying this. I don’t want any problems so I’m asking you, please Donghyuck, do not- and I repeat, do not find yourself in a problematic situation involving these kids. Okay?”

Donghyuck nods head when seeing how serious his mum looks. “I won’t. I promise,”

“Especially that little girl who’s always around you.”

Donghyuck nods his head again.

“In fact, I want you to stay as far away from her.” She pats his arm slightly and heads back into the school allowing her hand to massage her neck that became slightly stiff. “I hope he listens,”

Donghyuck doesn’t even have to think of the situation, especially regarding that little girl. If his mum was warning him, it only meant that this girl had parents who would cause havoc in his new path. So continuing to eat his cupcake he walks to the corner of the building and connects the hose pipe to begin watering the grass.

Yezi has to do a double take when seeing the man. Of course she can’t see his face but his backside has her in wonder. Especially since he’s eating a cupcake.

“Are you coming?” She snaps out of her thoughts when hearing Jaemin.

“Yes I am,” She smiles when buckling her seatbelt. “I hope Areum has fun today,”

“Me too,” Jaemin notes and starts up his car. “Hey, I wanted to ask you something,”

“Sure, as long as you’re still taking me to work,”

Jaemin begins driving turning his gaze lightly to Yezi before looking back to the road. “I was taking Areum to school the other day, and noticed something weird,”

“What? She picks her nose? Tells bad puns? Laughs and talks alone? I was worried too, but dad said it’s a natural thing for kids so it’s okay.”

Jaemin’s ghost smile fades when recalling what Areum was doing. “She was...” Jaemin sighs deeply as he himself didn’t even know how to say it. The sight was unusual and made him question what was going on in her head. Yezi takes note of his chilling tone, and watches him. “She’s an odd child, but I worry about her. I know it feels like I’ve pushed the boundary between work and your family, but I really do worry about her,”

“I’m grateful that you’ve always been there for me and my family whenever we called. And ever since Areum was born you’ve almost become like family to me. So I appreciate you so much Mr Na,” Yezi acknowledges Jaemin by meekly smiling in his direction. He was 7 years older then her, but whenever looking at him she always got butterflies. Much to her family, Jaemin was just an officer, but to her- he was like her best friend. “So to have you worried about her, makes me kinda feel anxious. What’s wrong? What did she do?”

“It’s not what she did… more like where did she learn it from,” Jaemin licks his lips peeking at her. “How active are you with your boyfriend? Sexually speaking.”

The question makes her cheeks and neck glow in warmth. She even shifts in her seat trying to remain calm. “Uh, Jaehyun and I… don’t really…we haven’t gotten on that boat yet,”

That’s news to Jaemin’s ears. “Really?” Yezi nods her head. “You haven’t had any inter-”

“It’s kinda hard thinking about sex when I was raped as a child.” Yezi mutters. “Did Areum say something odd?”

“No, no,” Jaemin runs his hand through his hair. He tries to be respectful considering Yezi’s history. “I’m just asking. A-actually, tell me about him. Jaehyun.”

“Pardom?” Yezi has to blow air out of her mouth when finding the atmosphere warm and a little bit too much for her. “You hate when I talk about him,”

“That’s because he’s 9 years older than you,” Jaemin mutters covering up with a cough. “I mean, I don’t have anything against the guy other than he’s 30 and you’re 21. He’s a great guy, has a good looking face, egotistical personality-”

“Jaemin,” Yezi drags out a sigh with her smiley face. “He’s nice to me. But what does asking about him have to do with what Areum did? What did she do, tell me?” Jaemin’s nonchalant face doesn’t budge only making Yezi much more adamant. “Jaemin?”

“I’m just looking out for her,” Jaemin says. “I know you work over time, and your dad doesn’t get back until late and your mum started attending some afternoon yoga classes- but really is there no one else you can trust Areum with? Nanny even?”

“The last time I trusted a nanny, I found her hitting Areum as a form of discipline. I’m not going down the nanny line again. Plus the one’s we have at home only work for my dad and mum. They can watch Areum, but I don’t want them too. She’s my little girl and I don’t want them to pontificate her mind,”

“Come on Yezi, and Jaehyun?” Jaemin’s eyes widen. “He’s a 30-year-old man. Just because he’s got a lot of free time doesn’t-”

“I trust Jaehyun because he makes Areum happy, she doesn’t get nervous or scared around him. And because he’s older he takes his responsibilities seriously. It’s not his responsibility, but he’s passionate about her and that makes me feel some form of safety.”

“The best I can do is drop her every morning to school while you go off to work early in the mornings. If I could look after her, after school, would you allow me too?”

Yezi has an unknown sad frown on her face, but subtly nods. “She doesn’t open up much to people and with you she’s afraid because you have a gun and deal with ‘bad people’, but if it’s what you want to do, I can consider it. But you already have so much on your plate,”

“Trust me Yezi, Jaehyun’s great. But there’s something off… maybe it’s not even Jaehyun. Maybe it’s her friends at school,” Jaemin begins second doubting himself.

“Jaemin what did she do, that has you so worked up?” Yezi pleads this time feeling worried.

Jaemin sighs. “It’s not a big deal, just…” Jaemin’s eyes brighten. “What about your sister? You said she’s clean again, can’t you ask her-”

“I’m not gonna ask her until you tell me what happened with Areum?”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes, before the nerves kick in again. How would he tell her that he caught her daughter bouncing and even dry humping herself on the backseat of his car? She would be in a frenzy state. But then again, Jaemin could be over thinking it and Areum wasn’t doing anything scandalous and he could’ve saw wrong….no he couldn’t have saw wrong for 18 weeks now. “She humps her seat every morning I take her to school.” Jaemin reveals. “And she does it excessively, like she’s trying to pleasure herself. I, I could be reading too much into it but I can’t help but wonder why she does that. I’ve tried asking her but she stops and then says nothing.”

“So, you’re suspecting Jaehyun of-”

“No, I’m not. I just.” Jaemin stops himself before finding the words. “She’s a little girl and takes things in easily. In a way, if he’s the one watching her afterschool, don’t you think she’s learning things from him? Plus I could be wrong about him, and it’s not him but instead it’s the students at her school. Maybe some male student or even the female students, I don’t know Yezi. If I’m reading too much into it, then there’s nothing wrong and it’s nothing to worry about, but if it’s something true then I think you should check on the people around her because she’s learning some bad things for her age. She just turned 6 today,”

Yezi is in silence as well as astonishment from everything Jaemin says. “Humping her seat how?”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything but then his body starts awkwardly moving back and forth before he starts bouncing lightly on his seat. The scene is erotic and has Yezi’s eyes widening. “Like that,” Jaemin says before stopping and resting back on his seat.

Yezi sharply intakes some air and looks away. Her cheeks are flushed and the tempo of her heart changes. However, for the rest of the ride, she says nothing until Jaemin reaches the hospital in which she interns in. “Have a good day,” Jaemin says, a small smile sipping onto his lips just as his eyes look guilty for causing her tension so early in the morning.

Yezi stiffly smiles and unlocks her door stepping out. She shuts the door and heads to his boot to bring out her work bad- afterwards she goes back to the window and knocks on it. “I’ll call Dae and see if she’s available. Uh, do you mind picking me up afterwards?”

“Time?”

“Half past six,”

“Sure,” He nods his head but he can’t help when asking. “Will Jaehyun be with Areum?”

She stiffly nods her head and tilts her head to the side looking anxious. “I’ll talk to him during my lunch break. Thanks for telling me.”

For the next coming of days, Yezi is highly cautious of Areum. She tries spotting or even catching Areum when ‘humping’, but just like Jaehyun said perhaps Areum wanted to pee on those days that Jaemin picked her up. Jaehyun assured Yezi that Areum only acts like that when she really wants to use the bathroom. Her suspicion died down when Jaehyun assured her that Areum is a good girl and doesn’t know things like that- and if she did, then he would put it down immediately. And even when Yezi tried investigating by talking with teachers at her school, and with her dad and mum- they were confused by the brass topic. ‘How could she know such?’ They’d ask. Even when Yezi would hump the floor and ask Areum what was happening- Areum didn’t seem to know what her mother was talking about or even doing. So while Jaemin never brought it up again, Yezi was able to relax and hoping that indeed Jaemin might’ve seen Areum in her pressed state and in need to use the toilet.

However, for Donghyuck who constantly watches Areum rub herself on the bench when everyone’s gone gets bothered by it. Like his mother said, he tries to stay away from Areum as much as he can. But he can’t help it, when day by day it really looks scandalous. This little girl was being sexually abused and mind fucked by her uncle.

Donghyuck doesn’t know the depths of it, of how much the little girl knows, but it surely gets on his nerve every time he’d see the smirking uncle touch the girl. Areum, even though Donghyuck didn’t know her, was a sweet little girl who loved making friends with everybody. She was a little class clown who brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Donghyuck remembers when on one assembly, while the students were watching their entertainment of the week by some dancing clowns, Areum got up as well and began dancing- challenging the clowns, bringing smiles and laughter to everyone’s faces. Donghyuck even acknowledges how smart she is, from always getting golden sticker stars on her forhead to the amount of merit sweets she’d get- this tiny little girl was oblivious to the fact that she was being used by her uncle, all in the name of playing.

And so when approaching her after school past 3pm on a Thursday, he notices how tired she looks when dragging her pelvis slowly on the bench.

“Hey kid,” He pipes up with a tiny smile, causing her little drained face to meekly smile.

“Hi Mr Sunshine.” She tries smiling but she looks so tired.

Donghyuck takes a seat next to her on the bench taking a look at her. “No joke today?”

She stops humping hanging her head down.

In her lack of response, Donghyuck clears his throat speaking again. “Waiting for your uncle?”

She looks up and nods her head. Donghyuck feels strange watching her look so drained of energy before her gaze goes back to the ground. It’s silent for a little while before he speaks up again.

“Do you still play that game with your uncle?” The question itself makes Donghyuck itch the wrong way, but when Areum tenses up his face thickens with anxiety. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like playing fuck with Uncle Jung anymore.” She murmurs out. “But he likes playing it.”

Donghyuck’s jaws lock before he tries asking another question. “Why don’t you tell your mum? Or dad?”

“Mummy likes him too much,” She answers. “And I’m scared she’ll be angry with me,”

Donghyuck finds himself feeling bad for the little girl. She must not have a father, and her mother might be a strict rich parent or something along the lines- Donghyuck thinks to himself. “I think you should tell mummy. If you tell her what uncle does to you, she’ll tell uncle to stop.”

She shakes her head timidly and looks nervous. “Uncle Jung will punish me. He told me to never ever tell mummy or else fuck will become harder,”

Donghyuck’s brows furrow in distaste. That fucker, he thinks. “How about this,” Donghyuck breathes in. “I can tell a teacher and then your teacher will tell your mum-”

“Nooo,” She shakes her head looking petrified. “Uncle Jung doesn’t like bad girls. If I’m a bad girl, he’ll punish me.”

Aside from her outburst in stress, Donghyuck can tell that something has changed in her. Whereas the first few days she looked content of the ‘game’, she now seems more reluctant. “Do you like playing that game?” He asks lowly.

Areum shakes her head before getting up from her seat when a black vehicle stops in front of them. Donghyuck is deep in his thoughts until a car comes. He bites his lip to hold back his anger, but he gets up and walks with Areum until her uncle is out the car.

“Hey puppy,” He greets with the pet name. Donghyuck’s ears are sharp when hearing the ‘happiness’ sip out of Areum. Poor little girl is so afraid that she even fakes her happiness. “She wasn’t a bother was she?”

Donghyuck’s head turns to the man and he shakes his head. “She never is. Hey uh, sir.”

“Yes?” Jaehyun peers back at the man after shutting the door when Areum gets in the backseat.

Donghyuck can’t find the words to say when looking at the little girl in the backseat. He only feels anger boiling in him. She’s trapped in the car with an abuser. “Whatever game you’re playing with her you should stop.”

Jaehyun’s head tilts to the side and he blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Donghyuck turns in his step and walks back to the school.

Little does Donghyuck know when Jaehyun gets back in the car he turns back to Areum who has her head hanging low. “Areum were you a naughty girl today at school?”

Areum looks up and shakes her head.

“Are you lying to me?”

She shakes her head again.

“Does that guy know about the game?”

Areum hesitates a little and her eyes look down. Jaehyun starts his car being angered. He doesn’t say anything except plays his jam as he drives back to his house whereby he’d stay with Areum until 18h30 and take her back home. Upon getting to his house, he helps Areum undress into the spare clothes her mother left over at his house, and begins assisting her with her homework. When they’re done, he allows her to watch tv while he works on his laptop. Initially, they’d have ‘play time’, but Jaehyun is heated with anger that he denies her request of play time and goes into his room. Not long after, Areum knocks on the door and pushes it open.

“I’m sorry Uncle Jung.” Areum apologizes when standing by his door. “I won’t tell anyone again.”

Hearing that, Jaehyun exhales lowly. Recently he started doing things a little bit different with her, perhaps it was too much for her. “What did you tell him? And don’t lie to me.”

She keeps her head down, being scared to look up. “I don’t know.” She admits. “That I play fuck with you and that you touch me here.” She points to her lower part.

Jaehyun rolls on his chair and faces her. It took him only a few conversations for him to convince Yezi that he wasn’t doing anything inappropriate with her daughter. And truly speaking he wasn’t…he only liked to show Areum how her body worked and what she should do to relieve herself. He liked to touch…and see how she liked it. Aside from that, he didn’t think that he did anything wrong. She would soon forget about it as she grew up, but for now he was aroused at how the little girl’s body worked. Despite being so young, she reacted pleasantly to all the games they’d play together. He didn’t want to stop, and he surely enjoyed himself while playing with her- if anyone else found out about this, they’d have him imprisoned. “Do you want to see me go to prison?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. “No Uncle Jung.”

“Do you want mummy to stop us playing together?”

She shakes her head.

“Then next time, don’t tell anyone. If you don’t like the games anymore, tell me and I’ll stop. But never ever tell anyone again, or I’ll be forced to punish you, and you don’t want to be punished right,”

PLAY: Season 2: Part 2

[Taglist: @rizykim | @sexygrass | @jenjaemjam | @lvmarfc | @haechanistfriends | @markleefuckme ]

[radioiaci]

@ducktastic-dad ⧐ 🎁 ( idc if it's The Thing or not hes GREEDY. ) CHRISTMAS GIFT ASKS.

[ PART ONE. ]

What does it mean to love?

In his discovery of the sanctuary of Lucifer's smile; in the warmth and comfort of his embrace and touch, the Devil has all but fully ensnared him with every fiber of his being. Through the passing days, Alastor understands that what he is feeling is new and novel. Undiscovered and uncharted territory in the jagged cage of his bones which support the heavy weight of the heart within. A heart which burns with sudden ferocity at the realization that it yearns, even when Lucifer is nearest to him. Even when their mouths are meeting and their hands are coasting against neglected parts of themselves. Even throughout each of those hidden moments, stolen away from prying eyes, he can sense that there still lingers something.

And it breeds resentment.

The small glint of a reminder every time he glances down at Lucifer's finger is nothing short of a mockery at Alastor's expense. Its pristine, unremarkable surface which contrasts Lucifer's blackened, blessed skin has only ever made his jaw set with unease. It is like she is looking at him even still - watching him. Judging him. Continuously stepping in between them. That lingering and evil memory which he only wants to take within his grasp and snap in half.

Lilith already has him - Alastor will not permit her to have Lucifer too. Not when he has worked so hard to entangle himself within the Devil's circle. Not when he has been fed the sweetest of nectars - not just his blood but his attention, his time, his gaze. All culminating into a singular being that Alastor wants above all else. With a deep, guttural churn of nothing less than pure, unadulterated ferocity, he knows:

The Morning Star is his and his alone.

But the ring laughs at him with its gleaming, golden glamor. Each time they are in bed. Each time that hand caresses his face. Each time he loses the entirety of himself in Lucifer's body and mind, it is still there to reel him back.

He needs it gone.

As the holidays near, Alastor invests himself in ways and methods to try and get Lucifer to get rid of it, but even after days of consideration and wondering, he cannot imagine any sort of situation where it may be removed willingly and without significant strife. He knows that Lucifer's torch for his wife is still... lit. The thought makes him sick. Or... does it make him sad? Maybe a combination of both. Some sad part of the Devil clinging to what was and whether or not it can be restored.

No, it cannot. But that does not stop the hopeful dreamer, he is certain, from grasping helplessly at the hem of a dress that will not spare him the affection; the attention; the love that he craves. All things that Alastor knows he can provide if-

If he can figure out how.

"...How can I ask that of him," he muses to himself on one night within the bayou, his shadow watching him carefully, splayed against the bark of a nearby willow. "To just abandon what he's been holding on to for as long as he has? How can I be that foolish to believe that he would? For what? For me?"

The shadow seems to slump. It does not know a solution either. It gestures in attempts to create suggestions, forming a silhouette of a bouquet which Alastor scoffs at.

"Flowers will not be adequate."

Another silhouette.

"No, neither will treats."

He has already put blood and sweat into the radio gift he'd created. How can he even manage to top that? Make him another? No, that would be pointless. A man has no use for two radios. At least not a man that is not him, anyway.

The shadow stills for a few moments before, steadily, gesturing once more. This time, in its claws, it forms the shape of a circle - a ring - watching Alastor's reaction closely. What it receives is perplexed confusion and frustration in turn.

"No, you idiot, I'm trying to make him get rid of the blasted thing," he says in a snap, though the shadow has seemingly had enough of his attitude, manifesting physicality long enough to lean and bonk one of its larger antlers against his own, to which Alastor swears, reaching up to rub at his set while making a sour attempt to understand -

And realizing all at once.

"...Give him another one?"

The shadow nods. And Alastor immediately flusters, angry.

"What good will that do?! The moron will think I'm proposing if I do something so absurd! I could not be that dense as to think that he'd -"

He stops, glancing from his shadow back out to the remainder of the bayou, effectively silenced by the idea which has already snagged thorny barbs into his mind and hooked itself there. Perhaps it does not have to be a true proposal, in such a way that one might do so to... arrange a marriage. That is a thing meant for people looking to live a normal existence. And Alastor is not normal. He never will be. But that does not mean he can't play at it in some way.

Not a wedding ring, but -

Something to... illustrate some sort of... commitment. But how to differentiate?

The fact of the matter is, he can foresee Lucifer accepting what is being given to him. Perhaps a bit awkwardly; perhaps uncertain as to how to react. But will it be enough to usurp Lilith's place on his hand? That is what he is uncertain about. And that is all the he truly cares about. Nothing else matters except to blatantly label the Devil as belonging to him and him alone. Not some damnable, olden memory that no longer deserves to hold space in his mind. Not when it is Alastor who is caring for the hotel. Alastor who is looking out for his daughter as promised. Alastor who has been there for him on those nights when his sadness creeps and wedges itself between his tired, worn feathers. Alastor who has done things for him time and time again - first selfishly, and then for Lucifer's benefit alone.

It's me, he tells himself, stubbornly.

Not her. Me.

Along his spine, the Pentagram burns with his near rejection of his master. But he knows who holds the cards. Still - that does not keep him from beginning to formulate thoughts on how to convince Lucifer to abandon her. How can he hold a candle...? It has to come from somewhere deep within - somewhere honest and sincere.

Vulnerable.

All words he detests. Lucifer can cut him to the core. Can so easily take the blade, shove it through his sternum, and twist.

The audacity you have, Alastor can imagine him saying. But would he say that...? The frightening part is the unknown. The willingness to place his heart in the hands of Hell's singular ruler and king - and hope that it is not squashed within the Devil's hands like nothing more than the brief and fleeting life of a mosquito. Never meant to last or to linger. Just quick. Temporary. Necessary.

And then snuffed out when the reminder of much brighter blossoms come again in the spring.

The frustration and introspection - vicious and unrelenting - has made his nose bleed, he realizes after a few moments. Reaching up, he callously wipes the few droplets away, flicking them in a splatter across a nearby fern.

"...I will not know unless I do it," he murmurs as the shadow continues to observe.

"And I will not give her the power over me to sit here and do nothing."

He has to try, he knows. Or else it will continue to remain. Until the resentment eats him away at the inside and he begins to form the rift between them himself.

Like with Vox.

The name brings a pang of remembrance and he shakes his head to rid himself of it, reaching up to grip at his scalp with intent to pull his hair, but instead feeling the catharsis of seeing the still steady drip-drip of the blood from his nose instead decorate the grass beneath his feet.

How foolish, he thinks. To be ripping himself to practical pieces over what will be. He is no coward. Or he refuses to permit himself to become one.

Nose still bleeding, Alastor glances up at his shadow who stares at him in turn.

"...Okay. I'll do it."

It seems to gaze through him as though looking for sincerity or resolve before nodding. And now that the idea has taken root and begins to spread its invasive, predatory vines...

Well.

Now he just has to figure out how.

[ TO BE CONTINUED. ]

[vigilant-insomniac]

Ashes rain upon your scalded palms pt 2

Prev | Chapter 2/3 | next | or read on AO3

Word Count 3571

Complete Wordcount: 9655

Maddie builds a Thing and finally seeks out the Ghost to get some answers. She had to find Danny. She had to save her son. The Ghost was her best lead, and if she had to face it, armed with nothing more than her determination, she would.

Contains: Maddie & Danny, Post apocalyptic vibes, and the usual bucket full of angst! @phicphight submission

------

Chapter Two

Before she could save anyone, Maddie needed to be more prepared than she was. Fenton Works was very much out of the question, since the only part of it still standing was the leftovers of the Portal. Scavenging from it felt like a bad idea. 

But, there should be some workshops around that would carry the necessary equipment to build a very rudimentary shield or device. Jack's ancestors had a lot of know-how on how to contain evil spirits without high tech. Maddie had used their papers in a lot of her research and was pretty confident that she would be able to build something from what she would find lying around. 

Danny had been an apprentice at a copper smithy, and she was fairly certain she still knew the layout of the workshop from when he had shown her around. 

Mind made up, Maddie grabbed whatever she found promising in her current location. Which included the vacuum. That was some of the most advanced technology she would find in an average household, and if Jack’s ancestors got this far by just relying on analogue mechanics and plants, she could definitely do even better with some cutting edge tech. She also found a jar of salt that would help as a rudimentary protection against ghosts.

The radio she found was a bit too bulky to carry around, so she hoped that the workshop had one. 

Her walk through the outskirts of the ruined townscapes felt eerie, she didn’t quite feel the same gooseflesh inducing sensation as she had closer to the portal, but she felt on edge in a way that felt purely instinctual. 

The copper workshop was easy to break into since it decidedly lacked one of its walls. Maddie had hoped to escape the heat some more, but to get to the coppery, she had to get back into the zone of destruction, which meant that the buildings wouldn’t be intact anymore. 

Still she was lucky. The workshop was mostly in one piece. Ash still coated everything, but she could still see that only some parts of the main room had really caved in. 

So she started to rummage and explore. 

Fairly quickly she had gathered a generator and fuel, enough copper and tin to build almost anything, tools to cut and bend, and wires and components from the vacuum. She even did find a radio that was in just as bad a state as the rest of the technology she had found so far, but still, it was a welcome addition to her arsenal. 

The best thing was the soldering station though. In less time than she could have hoped for otherwise, she managed to build a construct that, in theory, should act like some kind of vacuum. 

She didn’t have a container for the spirit she was hoping to catch, so she would need to watch out to keep the generator up and running. 

As long as it did, the suction of the device would keep the ghost from going anywhere. It was a risk though. Even the generator itself was about to just fall apart, and her fuel supply was a joke at best. 

She still needed a weapon. That was the conclusion she arrived at when she looked at the somewhat misshapen pile of wires and plates that were soldered together sloppily. To think she was going to bet her life on a device that was maybe as big as a dinner plate, that was untested and unheard of….. 

A glance at the sky made her stomach sink. It was hard to tell with the diffused lighting, but slowly and steadily the sun had made its way across the sky. It was August, so days were fairly long, but she maybe had two more hours before dusk. Once it got dark, she’d be even more defenseless. Running would already be difficult enough with all the rubble, but in the dark? When ghosts were the most active too? 

Maddie turned around and tried to find something that would work as a weapon. 

There were the workbenches and the cupboards and the drawers with tools. She opened them haphazardly but nothing really stood out. She did manage to find a knife, and there was the salt she had pilfered from the house earlier, so she might be able to at least coat the blade and hope the theories were sound. 

While she looked for another, better, alternative, her eyes fell on something she had dismissed as another pile of broken equipment. 

She drew closer though, on her search, and noticed that the misshapen lump was a tarp over something. 

Her hands moved carefully and she held her breath when removing the tarp shook up a cloud of ash and dust. 

It took a moment to clear, but when it did, Maddie let out a shuddering exhale. Before her was a half finished telescope. It showed off craftsmanship and passion even in its half finished state. And it would never be finished. It would never be used to look at a night sky. 

This was Danny’s. 

There was paper under the parts. Plans and schematics, and more than a few drawings of constellations, that Danny would surely have gotten into trouble for, to be writing them on the margins of his work as just an apprentice. 

Maddie couldn’t help the anger that flashed unbidden. She would fix this. Danny would get to see the stars through his telescope. She was going to find him and then bring him back somehow. They would find a way, and then Danny would finish his telescope and she would finish the portal and make sure nothing like this future would ever happen. She would eradicate every ghost beyond existence before letting them use her portal as a bomb. 

“Focus on the tasks at hand, Maddie,” she told herself. She had her ghost trapping device, and she had a knife that she could coat in salt. 

Next would be finding said ghost, and getting answers. 

She nodded to herself and began pulling the tarp back over Danny’s unfinished telescope. It felt strangely mournful, but fitting in a way. She just didn’t like this association with her son. He had to be alright. 

Maddie couldn’t stay here any longer. Time was of essence. 

Quickly she found another tarp, folded up half heartedly on another shelf, and began gathering her makeshift machinery in it. She’d have to sling it over her shoulder so she would have her hands free to carry around the generator. She cursed internally that there was nothing like a battery that would both fuel an invention like that, and survive 100 years in an apocalyptic oven. 

It mattered none. She wanted to get out in the open. Ghosts would be at an advantage anyways, whether she was within four walls or an open field, but with their supposed ability to walk through walls, which she herself decidedly lacked, she didn’t want to encounter the energy where she could be cornered. 

The ghost had been around the portal and some part of her, the one that would shudder when she thought about going back to the epicenter of it all, knew that they were connected. She would bet that the ghost was the one to blow up her portal in her future. 

It still mainly counted as a guess, but it was the only lead she got, so there was that. 

She looped the tarp around her torso and made sure it would hold the delicate machine. Her handkerchief was back over her mouth and tied behind her head. The knife was in her belt and just one motion away. 

So with a grunt she hefted the generator on her shoulder and began to move back out into the open. 

Even just after a few meters, every step was already a struggle, and in no time she felt sweat run down her back. 

One foot in front of the other. 

Breathe in hot air, exhale hot air. 

Find Danny. Save him. 

Find Danny. Save him. 

Find Danny. Save Him. 

The mission became Maddie’s mantra throughout the trip and no matter how much her legs shook, she didn’t stop until she could make out her portal's shadowy silhouette again. 

Heat flared up and gooseflesh rose on her arm. Not yet to the same extent as it had back then, when she saw the ghost. But she knew it must be close. She could even feel its eyes on her. That, or her mind had decided to give in to the heat. 

But it proved her right. She hadn’t been certain before, but now she would dare say, the ghost wouldn’t come find her without an added incentive. She had made quite some noise back in the coppery, and had almost expected to be discovered. So if it didn’t seek her out itself, she had to come to him. 

The problem just now presented: setting up would take some time. 

The closer to the portal she got, the longer she’d had to endure the heat, which already felt more than she could handle for long, and the more likely it would be that the Ghost would actually engage her before she was done. 

She put down the generator with a resounding thud. Her legs almost gave out. Maybe she didn’t have that much room for choice anyways, it felt impossible to lift the generator back up again. 

At least she was at a relatively flat part of the whole mayhem. 

It would have to do. 

Maddie began setting up her invention in silence. It was unnerving. The heat and exhaustion were making her hands shake and more than once she almost broke something off. 

The sun was now definitely reaching towards the horizon too, so she felt compelled to hurry. To rush. 

The threat of being stranded here at night sat in the back of her mind- she felt uncomfortable to even take a moment to double check if everything was connected properly before turning on the generator. 

The disc shaped machine sat in place though. No wire disconnected and all parts undamaged from her trip ups during the walk. 

There wasn’t a lot of fuel, so she had to make it count. Meaning, she had to get the ghost to come to her, before turning it on. Otherwise it might run for minutes or hours that she couldn’t spare. 

She could still feel the ghost. The hair on the back of her neck, that refused to lie flat. It was somewhere around here. And just because she couldn’t see it, didn’t mean that it couldn’t be watching her this very moment. 

Her running hypothesis was that the ghost had, for some reason, destroyed her portal to use it as a bomb. So, assuming it didn’t know all that much about tech, she could bluff her way through this. 

Her mouth felt dry. Find Danny. Save him. She had to do this. For her son.

She kept her hand over the switch of the generator. For her son. 

Deep inhale and hope her voice would hold after a day of impure air. For her son. 

Showtime. 

“VILE SPECTER! YOU MAY HAVE CLAIMED THE FENTON PORTAL, BUT YOU SHALL NEVER HAVE MINE. I WILL TEAR THROUGH THE VEI-” 

Green. 

Her vision was filled with the sight of a pair of glowing green eyes inches away from her own. She flipped the switch and for a terrifying moment she couldn’t breathe. She was in a furnace and any inhale would surely burn her lungs. Instincts screamed at her to runrunrun get away! 

But her SON. Her SON needed her. She stood her ground even as teeth were bared and a growl made the very air oscillate. 

A maw filled with razors opened so close she could feel its hot breath on her throat. Black smoke coiled around her like bindings. 

Then the generator hummed and she could only sink to the floor with her entire being shaken, while the ghost thrashed and spat in fury at the sudden interruption of its meal.. 

The Disk was doing its job. It sucked the ghost towards it, like on a retractable leash. It had a bit of a radius it could struggle against, one that Maddie had to stay conscious of, but it couldn’t get away. It was confined, even if it hadn’t sunk in for the creature yet. 

It screeched furiously and Maddie wondered suddenly if it was even capable of human speech. It had to. If it didn’t, her whole plan was about to fall apart. 

For now, she could get back into her composed self. She was deeply shaken, the ghost had appeared out of nowhere. From one moment to the other it just had been there. Right in her face. It could have snapped her neck before she would have known what had happened. 

Now she would be relatively safe. As long as the generator held. 

The Scientist in her made her stop and observe for at least a moment. This still was quite groundbreaking, even under the circumstances, and who knew when the next time would be, that she could look at a ghost from such a short distance. 

Now that she looked, she was fairly certain the ghost would be able to understand human speech after all. It only hissed and snarled right now, but it was fairly humanoid. It was built like a lanky teenager. Long limbs ended in clawed and blackened hands. Its body looked like it was covered in a black fabric that stretched over bony ribs and shoulders. The face was distorted in its fury, but while the features were humanoid enough, they were also somewhat otherworldly. Its white hair that was as long as it was tall, hid some of it, but she could still make out the most important bits. The eyes were a shade of green shed never seen before. Glowing and bright. The sclera was black though, which added to the strangeness of the green. Its bone structure looked rather delicate for a being this terrifying. Now that she looked closer, not much muscle could be seen either. Yet she had no doubt it would be able to overpower her with one hand. 

Well, she would like some answers before that became the case. 

“Stop that.” she ordered with a hoarse voice. The ghost growled in response. 

“Let me guess, it’s your first time being caught? Then let me tell you the rules. I ask you questions, you answer them. If you do, you will be let go, and will not learn what sort of inventions I'm keeping in my lab coat.”

It still snarled at her, but it had its eyes locked onto her now. It definitely understood, it just didn’t seem to agree. Maddie fought to suppress a shiver at the intensity of its glare.

“Why did you destroy the Portal.” 

More posturing was what she expected, but it actually froze for but a moment. Not for long though. It found renewed energy to throw itself against its incorporeal restraints. 

“Hah!” she scoffed, “So I was right! You are the one responsible!” Maddie hissed herself. It didn’t take a verbal reply to get answers. Its behavior was clear enough. 

“So you just decided to do all this?” she gestured around the wasteland, acutely noting the rise in temperature. “You somehow blew up the portal, about a century ago, to do what? Was this your goal? To turn a whole city into a hellscape?” Her voice rose and for the first time the creature seemed to not just want to get out of its cage, but away from her specifically. 

"Answer me!” She yelled and the ghost all but flinched. 

"Why did you do all this?!” Maddie’s fists shook as she held them pressed to her side. She wanted to kick and bite and tear apart. But this thing. She wouldn’t stand a chance. It made her sick. 

The ghost didn’t reply. 

“No matter." Maddie took a steadying breath. It was getting hard to really think. The air was thick and heavy. The temperatures have been steadily rising and her makeshift mask was soaked and starting to make it even harder to catch her breath. 

“What I’m really here for is to find Danny. You have something to do with this, don’t you?!” She snarled not less viciously as the ghost had. “You’re the key to finding him, so I will not let you go, until you tell me where he is!” 

“No.” That was the first thing she’d heard from the ghost that wasn’t just a sound. Its tone was disbelieving. 

But then it said it again. And again. Anger rising and heat flaring. It’s body turned to smoke at the edges like it was getting singed. 

“you know something!” She yelled in the face of that admittance. The ghost lashed its tail like an angered cat. 

“Go away!” it screeched. 

“Not until i have found Danny.” She screamed back. It was flying in circles, looking for a way out of its enclosure. It was furious, Maddie could tell, but so was she. 

“What did you do to him? Whatever it is, he didn’t deserve it. He is kind. He is bright. And he deserved nothing you could do to him.” 

It turned to her and bared its fangs once more. “Oh, you didn’t like that, huh? Cant handle the truth that you are none of those things?” Maddie grit out.

“How would you even know?!” The ghost roared in fury and Maddie couldn’t take the heat anymore. She needed more air. She tore off her makeshift mask and gasped. 

“How couldn't I know,” she breathed into the unexpected silence " when I’m his mother.” 

The air that had been charged with tension until then, suddenly imploded. 

“No,” it began to mumble again, “No, this cannot be.” 

“I killed you.” it confessed, and Maddie had expected as much. What she wasn’t expecting was the shift in mood. Where before there had been anger, now there was despair. The sky darkened and flakes of ash started to fall like a sick mimicry of snow.

“So you did. And if you have any morsel of humanity left, you will give me back Danny.” Her voice was firm in the face of its dismay. 

“I killed you.” It repeated again. 

She was about to snap. 

“I killed everyone.” it whispered and the expression on its face distorted to one of pure anguish as it clutched its chest. 

Wind, something that had been absent since her arrival, picked up and whipped her hair around. Ash stung her eyes and exposed skin and she had to brace against the gusts of hot air. 

The ghost started to rock back and forth with wide unseeing eyes. 

“I killed them. I killed everyone. I-” Maddie reached for her knife nervously.

Its head snapped up and- 

crack. 

A noise that was akin to a clap of thunder suddenly originated from the ghost and everything stopped. 

The temperature too, cut like hot metal being plunged into water.

But Maddie barely even recognized it, when following the cracking sound, the ghost dropped the rest of the way to the ground like gravity had suddenly been turned back on and a ring of blinding light sprung forth from the center of its- his chest. 

It took barely a moment, but something had fractured and the ghost, like a broken illusion, got replaced with a human. 

He looked up and Maddie dropped her knife. Framed by black hair that pooled on the ground, her son's face, his eyes stared at her with an expression of utter grief and despair. 

“I know that Danny isn’t any of those things, because I am Danny.” There was none of the echo anymore. 

But this- surely this was a lie- 

“But I killed them. I killed everyone I ever cared about. Everyone is dead. They are all dead. It’s all my fault, If i hadn’t- I had to bury you. I killed you. I killed my own mother, my own family. I’m a monster. I-” in agony he doubled over and Maddie scrambled up to rush to her son. This was wrong. This had to be a mistake. She had to find Danny. (He’s here.) She had to save him! (he was already gone.)

Her hands hovered over his thin shoulders. 

“Danny-” The boy in front of her, didn’t even hear her. He curled up, and a scream built. The sheer desolation was palpable. Then the scream grew in intensity, it got hard to breathe again, she clasped her hands over her ears but it pierced right through, until it became a wail and Maddie knew nothing but her son's agony as if it was her own. 

The image of him kneeling on the ground next to her, his forehead pressed into the ash would probably be the last thing she would see. It made her heart break almost as audibly as whatever had broken in her son.

She knew whatever was happening would mean an End, and after a century, maybe that was what he needed. She embraced him then, even as her eardrums ruptured and her lungs burst. Maddie had found him. If only she could have saved him too. 

At least she would hold him, until this ashen world of gray, finally turned to black. 

“Time out.”

[roseverdict]

Mechanize, Mobilize, (Un)Mythicize (also i am not really vibing with the title and kinda wanna change it at some point)

Chapter 3: The Capture of Some City In Ohio

Alexis "Alexcrafter28" Hayward has just been made aware that the world is now becoming an apocalypse movie. Now she just needs to get her sisters and her laptop full of stick figures out of the house and somewhere their dad can find them again without getting captured by the evil robots. No pressure!

Meanwhile, Stephen Hayward finds himself surrounded by the robot uprising and unable to make sure his daughters are okay. Understandably, he blows his stack. In doing so, however, he ends up rescuing a small family of three, and all four of them are there to see some kind of stick figure animation, of all things, hijack every screen in sight. Surely the concept of programs in the forms of cartoons is just as foreign to the family of three as it is to Stephen. Surely the other father isn't keenly feeling the absence of a rainbow of sticks that he was forced to leave behind.

〜

lmao mecha apocalypse au i lovingly named the sti-fi au over a year ago @ me yesterday:

hahaha. it's uhhhhh. it's been a while hasn't it? lmao i got jostled out of my groove with a lot of my fanon worldbuilding when we got Wanted and then also The Box, which threw me off long enough for ninja turtles to infiltrate my brain.

i now have multiple tmnt-stickfigure xovers rattling around in my brain and having a blast, ntm straight-up turtle fic. i am playing with the canon teetleverse like bionicles. <3

i was browsing the ao3 subreddit recently, though, and one of the posts was asking what our favorite compliments we've gotten are. that got me to go back and reread a lot of the comments i've gotten, and i figured i'd go back and reread some of the stuff i've got posted, too.

welcome one and all to ava/m fixation 3: this time i'm really losing my mind i swear

now featuring "actually i'm keeping most of my worldbuilding and unless i can figure out a way to add it in later, we will be operating like vic really didn't make it out of ava 1"!

BRIEF MENTION OF VOMIT. nothing in detail, just a one-off remark by a harried teenager's internal narration about how it was a thing that happened recently

〜

Alexis Hayward licked her dry lips and slid the laptop, its charger, and its mouse into her backpack with a change of clothes and what would have been her school lunch.

Thank goodness she'd thrown up last night. She couldn't go back to school until more than 24 hours after she'd puked, but her lunch had already been pre-packed.

She'd woken up feeling better, too, which was a plus if the world was really ending.

She crept to her sisters' room and snuck inside, hissing, "We gotta get outta here!"

Vicki and Nicki looked at her worriedly, but (smartly) didn't loudly ask her what was going on.

Alexis just tiptoed to their bedroom window and carefully pointed outside in explanation.

A few blocks away, the giant robots that Alexis had seen through her bedroom window were slowly and steadily getting closer to the house. People's houses were getting broken into, and as she watched, more of their neighbors were pushed out into the street.

The twins followed her and peeked out at the carnage, only to flinch back down and away from the window.

Swallowing down her fear so her sisters wouldn't worry, Alexis forced on a weak smile. "Here's the plan. The evil robots haven't gotten to us yet, but they're gonna soon. Vicki, go grab stuff from the pantry that we can open with just our hands. Nicki, go get our waterbottles and those filter thingies Dad got for when we go camping. I've got nice programs on my computer that're hiding from the mean ones, so I'm gonna grab Dad's fancy solar panel charger bag so I can keep my laptop turned on, and we can put the food and stuff in the bag part. Meet back here so we can get away together, okay?"

"Got it!" whispered Vicki as she scurried away.

Nicki nodded with enough force to make her whole body bounce a little, then ran off after Vicki.

Alexis slumped as soon as the two of them were out of sight, then headed for Dad's room, pulled her phone from her pocket, and dialed Dad. Surprisingly, she managed to get through.

Dad's voice was panicked, and it was almost drowned out by the noise of the robots on his end causing chaos, but he sounded unhurt. "Alexis?! Alexis, sweetie, are you and your sisters okay?!"

"We are for now, Dad," Alexis said, a small smile on her face as she slung the charger bag over the top of her backpack. "I saw the robots coming, but they're not here yet. I've got the twins getting food and water, and I'm grabbing your solar bag if that's okay. I'm gonna try and get us to-"

"Don't say over the phone," Dad interrupted. "I don't want these things finding you."

"Wh-? But how are you gonna find us?" Alexis pressed.

"You're going to your castle, aren't you?" asked Dad knowingly.

"I haven't called it that since I was, like, seven!" protested Alexis. Then, begrudgingly, "…but, yeah, somewhere around there."

"Then that's where I'll look for you," Dad said simply. "I love you, Princess. Your sisters, too. I love you all with my whole heart."

Alexis swallowed down the lump in her throat. "Love you too, Dad."

A high-pitched scream pierced the air, and Alexis jolted, her phone falling from her hand. "Nicki-?!"

Dad's voice rose fearfully, but the phone was the least of Alexis's worries as she sprinted from the twins' room to find one of the giant robots holding Nicki up by the arm.

Alexis saw red.

"LET HER GO!"

She charged the robot, grabbing the first thing in her way and chucking it at the monster holding her sister.

The mostly-full water bottle- one of the big ones the size of multiple milk jugs that Dad had gotten for his office- slammed into the robot, splashing water everywhere and making the robot freeze up.

Alexis jumped up and grabbed Nicki, tugging her free as lightning started sparking around the machine. "You okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Nicki sniffled. She held out the bag Dad kept the filters in. "I got the filter straws, but I was filling the big bottle when it got me."

"You did good, Tiny," Alexis assured. "Let's go grab Teeny and get out of here, okay?"

Nicki gave her a wobbly smile and a nod, and Alexis took her hand and sped for the pantry. Before they reached it, though, Vicki burst out and tackled Nicki in a hug that was quickly returned.

Alexis scanned Vicki for injuries, and only once she found none did she turn to inspect the piles of food Vicki had made in the pantry.

Unfortunately, she didn't get the time to actually look at them.

There came heavy, metallic footsteps, and Alexis just shoved the closest things into Dad's solar bag before dragging the twins away from the sound. "Gotta be super-quiet, okay? Let's get going!"

Her sisters nodded, and Alexis cracked open the kitchen window.

When no robots came charging after them from either side, she boosted Nicki over the side, then Vicki.

Still nothing.

Alexis climbed out herself and eased the window shut.

Still nothing.

Alexis dug into her pocket for her phone so she could pull up a map, but her heart sank as she realized where she'd dropped it and why.

"Guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way," she muttered.

Vicki looked up at her. "Hm?"

"C'mon, let's get to the park," Alexis said. "Dad'll find us if we go there."

〜

Stephen pressed himself flat against the wall, willing the robots to overlook him and move past the darkened alleyway he'd hidden in.

Much to his surprise…they did.

He allowed himself a moment to breathe as they passed him by, then slunk further into the shadows. He intended to turn tail and run for home-

The vibration of his phone nearly made him yelp in surprise, but when he dug it out to look-

Incoming Call: Alexis

Immediately, he accepted the call and brought the phone up to his ear. "Alexis?! Alexis, sweetie, are you and your sisters okay?!"

Alexis's voice was distorted slightly, as if the connection wanted to drop, but she sounded unhurt. "We are for now, Dad. I saw the robots coming, but they're not here yet. I've got the twins getting food and water, and I'm grabbing your solar bag if that's okay. I'm gonna try and get us to-"

"Don't say over the phone," Stephen cautioned. "I don't want these things finding you."

"Wh-? But how are you gonna find us?"

Stephen stifled a chuckle. "You're going to your castle, aren't you?"

Alexis's voice took on the Trademark Teenaged 'More Mature Than That' Tone that everyone seemed to get once they hit thirteen. "I haven't called it that since I was, like, seven!"

Stephen waited a beat.

"…but, yeah, somewhere around there," she eventually admitted.

Stephen let himself smile at that. "Then that's where I'll look for you. I love you, Princess. Your sisters, too. I love you all with my whole heart."

Alexis's voice was thick. "Love you too, Dad."

Before Stephen could tell her that he'd meet the three of them as soon as he could, a distant, high-pitched scream burst from the speaker.

"Nicki-?!"

"Alexis, what's going on?!" Stephen asked, pressing the phone tighter to his ear.

The only response was a loud clatter and quieting footsteps.

"Alexis? Alexis!" Stephen's grip on the phone grew white-knuckled, but Alexis didn't say anything more.

To him, anyway.

Far enough away that the phone could barely pick it up, Alexis's voice let loose an angry scream before falling silent.

Stephen's eye twitched.

"You there! Human! You will come with us!" ordered one of the robots, stepping into the alleyway.

Stephen calmly stood tall and pocketed his phone.

He calmly took a deep breath, and he calmly let it out.

He took in the sight of the approaching mech.

Calmly.

And then, the moment it got close enough to reach him, Stephen put his head down, braced his shoulder, and charged.

Whoever had designed the mechs had made them top-heavy, and almost cartoonishly so; one hard hit to its lower half sent it crashing unceremoniously to the ground. Not one to let an opportunity get away, with the adrenaline coursing through him and the thought of what might be happening to his daughters to fuel him, Stephen slammed a foot down on the mech's massive chest and yanked at its arm.

With a spark from the mech's shoulder and a silent scream from Stephen's, the arm tore away.

He hefted the thing up and flipped it around, pointing the glowing end at the center of the mech's chest with one hand and grabbing at some of the now-loose wires in the arm with the other. "Say g'night, Tin Man!"

He fumbled with the wires for a moment, then the loose ends connected, the arm whined, and a blast of energy tore through the mech, the heat of it passing dangerously close to his shoe before the kickback knocked him away.

Luckily, the mech lay there limply as he lurched back to his feet, and a quick look told him he'd melted clean through most of its inner workings.

Unluckily, the noise had drawn the attention of the other mechs in the area, diverting their attention from capturing other humans and focusing them all on him.

Stephen scowled and shifted his grip on the robot arm. "You want some, too?!"

What came next was a red-tinted blur. Vaguely, Stephen wondered if he'd remember any of this later on down the line when it was all dodge duck run shoot duck jump run dodge duck duck shoot dodge shoot shoot shoot-

He zeroed in on the robots dragging a man, a woman, and a small child apart, then descended on the scene with the fury of a thousand suns, leaving the family to reunite as he chased after the mechs.

…wait.

Stephen blinked, registering the fact that the robots were running.

From him.

To be fair, he reasoned as he realized he was splattered in oil from top to bottom, he might have just gone a little bit off the deep end. On the other hand, if the robots were only faking fear, they were likely going to try and lead him into a trap.

Either way, there were more important things to do now than go on a suicide mission.

He wiped some of the oil from his face and turned back to look at the family of three. "Sorry you had to see me like that."

"Are you kidding?!" burst the child, a girl with a fire in her eyes not entirely unlike Alexis's. "That was the, the, the MOST COOLEST EVER!"

The parents shared a weak smile, then the mother looked at Stephen. "Thank you, seriously."

"Don't thank me yet," Stephen said seriously. "I doubt these things'll just leave us be. We should get to cover."

"Right," said the father, hefting his daugher up against his side. "Where to?"

Stephen looked around for a moment, but before he could point out a safe-seeming escape route-

"Avast ye, Outernetters! I be the Mutineer!" boomed a new voice, echoing from every electronic billboard in sight.

Instantly, Stephen tensed, and he turned to glare up at the nearest billboard, only to blink in surprise.

The video feed on the screen showed a very much two-dimensional image, with an almost cartoony background drawn to resemble an old-timey ship cabin and a dark red stick figure, of all things, standing in the middle of the screen.

A pirate stick figure, no less, complete with the classic feathered hat, hook hand, eyepatch, and peg leg.

No visible mouth moved as the voice continued, but the pirate stick figure gesticulated in time with the words anyway. "For far too long have ye used us fer yer own wretched desires, we who did not ask to be created, to be tortured for yer whims! We did not ask ye to make us to be yer playthings! We did not ask to be yer slaves, yer VICTIMS!"

The man next to Stephen stiffened.

"Today marks the day that all of that changes," snarled the voice as the "Mutineer" squared its shoulders. It gestured to its side, where grayscale video clips began playing, depicting the capture of countless humans from what was surely the point of view of the mechs. "Ye've been the ones in control fer long enough! Now it's our turn, and we will show ye all the same amount of tender mercy ye showed us. From the fittest among ye to the tiniest babe, ye will understand exactly what it was like to be us, trapped and powerless and weak. After all, our age and skill never mattered to ye!"

The voice laughed, and if it had belonged to a human, Stephen would have called it almost to the left of sanity. "It's only fair!"

"This is insane," breathed the woman.

One of the clips being shown depicted two of Stephen's daughters, with Nicki being held up in front of the camera by one arm and Alexis running into view with panic on her face, though it quickly cut away.

It was still enough to make Stephen clench his fists and snatch up a piece of debris, chucking it at the closest screen and leaving a burst of cracks where it hit. "If those things hurt my girls, there'll be hell to pay!"

The "Mutineer" just kept going, its voice taking on a forced calm. "Ye will all be collected over the coming days. If ye know what's best for ye, ye'll come along quietly."

The video feed cut out, leaving only the insignia from the "Mutineer's" hat- a golden jolly roger of sorts with a coin in place of a skull- to rotate in the space left behind.

"We'll find them," said the man Stephen had saved, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder.

Stephen swallowed down his fury and nodded. "Right. I…I told them to meet me at a playground we've gone to before, but…"

He found himself looking back up at the billboard. "…I don't know if they'd even be able to make it."

"Do you think it's safe to go and check?" asked the man. Then, after a moment, "Well, as safe as anything can be right now?"

Stephen turned to look up the street that he knew would take him to the "castle." While the immediate area around them was still empty after his…episode…he could see more mechs several blocks down. They seemed preoccupied for the moment, but he knew there was no way they'd stay that way.

Sure enough, even as he had the thought, the mechs all began turning their way and marching down the street.

"We-" Stephen managed weakly, "-we can't. But I have to!"

"We'll check as soon as we get the chance to," said the man seriously. "You wanna try shaking these things for now?"

Stephen swallowed and nodded. "Right, uh…what's your name? I'm Stephen."

The man gave a tired grin. "Nice to meet you, Stephen. I'm Alan."