#like whenever I get out of a shitty situation where I had to stand up and be angry with ppl

[glittertimes]

My problem is that there is a very jaded smart part of me that isn’t surprised when ppl are awful and shitty this part of me fights back whenever I’m hurt.

But there’s also the naive caring part of me that just wants community and connection and I still don’t know how to be both at once so I can stand up for my boundaries but still be caring and understanding.

[hwanchaesong]

━⁠☞🍽️ Fifth Course: Watching his delish life in pictures comes with a sense of dread. Isn't it vexing that he's living the life while you're out there vomiting in pungent public restrooms? 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Good 4 U

wc: 543

genre & warnings: angst like yn is really mad lmao, nonidol!san, yn is drunk af, mentions of alcohol and drinking, cursing, lovers to exes, betrayal, mentions of vomit etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Y/N, you really should stop drinking excessively y-"

"Shut the fuck up!" you slurred, slumping on the wall of your bathroom and glaring at your ex whom your friends did the honor of calling to get you home safely.

San sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he's had enough of your childish antics. You two have already broken up a few months ago so really, you are not supposed to be his responsibility.

Still, he's not that merciless. He can't just allow you to go home by yourself where potential danger could get you killed. Unless your liver suddenly decides to give up on you.

His kindness does nothing but to further aggregate you, though.

No, not kindness. Consideration.

Yes, that's the right word.

It infuriates you to no end that even in the middle of the night, he comes running to the bar and picks you up to get you to your apartment in one piece.

But what you hated more is seeing him in a state of good life.

After all the shit he's put you through. You're here still suffering the repercussions of his actions while he's out there being happy and lovey-dovey with your former best friend.

Truly a vomit-inducing situation even without the help of alcohol.

Imagine, back then, if you would have known that they'd get together after he dumped you for no reason then you wouldn't have trusted them.

Fucking hell.

It did you no good to remember that shitty place that you promised not to visit ever again. But life ain't that easy, because if it is, then you'd be rich and happily married to the love of your life.

You were snapped out of your maddening stupor when his phone rang, not paying attention as he excused himself and chose to fixate your gaze on the crack of your bathroom floor.

Then again, sometimes, you hear bullshit when you don't need it the most.

He's talking to her. In your house. In a very loving voice. The same tone that he used to utilize whenever he speaks with you, now reserved for someone else.

"Yes baby, I'll be home in a while, okay? Okay. I'll see you later. I love you so much."

Disgusting, vile creatures that are incapable of feeling guilt. Oh, how you wish you could just strike them with thunder so they can finally go to hell, where they can burn together.

"Y/N I will h-"

"Get out here." you mumble lowly, standing up from your position and he frowns.

"What's your problem?" he asks, confused as to why you're acting sober and gloomy.

You laugh weakly, coming closer to him only to push him out of the bathroom, "My problem is none of your business. So, get the hell out of my apartment and do not ever, fucking ever show your face to me again."

You did not give him the chance to reply as you shut the door on his face, your whole body flopping on the cold tiles.

Soon enough, you heard the main door of your apartment close and you can't help but chuckle despite the tears streaming down your face.

It really is not difficult for him to leave you after all.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @xdannix @nsixns @heartssol @vixensss @shakalakaboomboo

[strawberrymochin]

I will be back soon~

Genre- fluff, angst...umm yeah whatever synopsis- kento's baby fever (sorry)

Kento Nanami having a baby fever was sort of unexpected. Ever since you had known him from his emo canon phase, till his enlightenment of every job in world being shitty, he's a person to get straight to the point. Speak his mind without any barriers of people's opinions.

when you first saw him, among the busy crowds of the station along with bunch of people in similar uniform like him, you chuckled a bit to yourself noting his golden bangs. He looked at you once with a glare as you drop your head down, embarrassed, trying not to make the fact that you were staring at him obvious.

You never saw him after that day of rush hour in 2006.

As time went by, this encounter of you with the sullen guy with blonde side swept bangs had dust fallen over till the memory of it blurred completely from your vision.

Up until 2016, where in a buisness trip back to Tokyo led you to a person, striking a sense of familiarity. 'The Emo Blondie' you recognised from ten years ago.

"Is something wrong, miss? You've been staring at me for past five minutes." He said maintaining a calm demeanor, as blood rushed to your cheeks, ears red burning with embarrassment. "Oh no, I'm fine.....I was ah kinda zoned out." You say blocking your face from his view with the flies you held in your hand.

Insignificant. The memory was totally insignificant— however the evocation came out vividly crisp. As if the picture of that past encounter was engraved in your mind and this meeting with him blew gust of wind, blowing off the dust accumulated over it.

He has always been straight to the point. As mentioned earlier, he even voiced out whenever you got flustered working with him; when he bends down to your desk, hands caging you from both sides as he uses one to show you what changes shall you make in the proposal; his breath would brush on the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, "I think you should focus on the proposal, rather than shying away."

"Huh?"

He would simply walk away. And what annoyed you the most was his same neutral calm expression. Does his manner never falters? He drives you in such embarrassing situations that you would effing wish to die on that moment. Such a menace.

Better start to avoid him. That was your initial plan, which you put to use, ignoring nanami and cutting out any situation where you have to face each other; going for help to other employees rather than the one you're assisted to— 'kento nanami' ofcourse; refusing on lunch together with the group whenever he used to join; avoiding even to look at him.

You thought you were doing good. There were no more embarrassing situations, now that you keep your distance from the so called past emo guy. You were happy life was back in track again.

That night you were working overtime. Finishing it you strech yourself, gathering your bag to go back home, humming to a tune, walking up to the elevator.

The gate opened and your smile dropped. Inside standing was kento nanami— same expression. The air went awkward, tension rising, he kept staring at you with a frown.

"Are you getting in or not?"

"Ah— I am." You give in, actions suddenly involuntary. The doors closed. None of you spoke for a while, till his velvet voice broke the threads of stillness tangling around.

"Are you purposely ignoring me?" His voice sent shivers down your spine, as your eyes widen to look at him. Oh no— you're going red again. I mean how the fuck you're not supposed to, if he's leaning on the elevator walls, with that tight shirt, two buttons open from the collar with a loose tie looped around showing off his pretty collar bones.

"Wha— no" you blatantly lie.

"Lie," he comes closer, dangerously closer till your back touches the cold surface of the elevator, "you obviously seem to avoid my presence."

"Th— that's not the c-case. You see I ahh" your voice falls as his tongue swipes over his pursed lips. "Mhm? I see what?" You want to answer, but the words won't just come out throat.

"You know what I see? I see you having a crush on me which you are hesitant to act upon...." That's it you were done. You passed out of embarrassment. And the next thing you know, when you regain your consciousness is you laying on a bed with warm blankets draped upon, in an unknown bedroom, which you now recognise as your boyfriend's.

"Dating is shit," He said, "but we can try."

It's been two years now you're dating. Nanami started being a sorcerer again as it suited his tastes and you were happy you won't have to listen him venting "work is shit."

You held your pregnency test, hand shaking, as it showed two lines— positive. Nanami wanted a baby, though he never said it directly, but through these blissful years you have learned to pick up on his unspoken words.

You were not ready for a baby. You weren't even married yet. You still had a career, goals to fulfill. However, tears brimmed up your eyes, of unmatchable joy. You couldn't wait to see the look you on your boyfriend's face as you reveal it to him.

Will he be happy? You were nervous. But indeed there was no doubt he wouldn't. His face would creak up, eyes creasing as lips form a huge smile, grabbing your waist spinning you around with joy. Kissing you telling you're the most beautiful blessing to him.

You remember once he told you about his dream when you asked about it randomly. He said he wanted to settle somewhere in Malaysia, with you. So simple yet so beautiful. Maybe it's time to fulfill it. You and nanami, settling in Malaysia as a mini version of you both joins soon. Have a family.

You couldn't wait to see him in the evening near Shibuya as you had a date night with him after he finishes with something that got him engaged real quick. He kissed your forehead before leaving, "I will be back soon." He said inhaling your scent from the crook of your neck.

You hurried to Shibuya, making sure not to forget the pregnancy test with you— a bow wrapped around it. You chuckle being impatient to see his reaction.

Your eyes scanned around to spot the familiar blonde hair. You don't know why people seemed to be in a rush. Unable to find your boyfriend you tilt your head in confusion.

You stroll around trying to find him. The air smells weird, sort of metalic, like— blood. A unsettling feeling crossed your heart. The station seems oddly quite, you turn your head trying to spot people, till you step on something mushy— a hand. It was a human hand you stepped on.

You stumble back, wanting to scream. Blood is scattered everywhere with sliced dead bodies of people. Dread strikes you—"Please don't be here. Please don't be here. Please nanami." — and among the dead bodies you spot him, standing covered in bruises. Half body burnt as a guy had his hand on his back. A wicked smile on his face.

You stilled as nanami looked at you for a second then looking somewhere else. He didn't recognise you from far. It seemed like he's in a daze.

No— you can't just stand there. You have to go and tell him. Tell him that he's going to be a father. Tell him you guys will be shifting to malaysia. Living his dream life.

You take one step towards him, trying to voice out his name— but it's useless. You couldn't.

Your boyfriend's body burst into pieces— the one you cuddled with every night, his crimson red blood splattered everywhere, just infront of your eyes— and you could do nothing. Nothing but stand.

The guy behind him noticed you, smirking deviously, but decided to ignore and run after a pink haired guy as you fall on your knees.

You crawl upto the bloody mess, of your boyfriend. Tears fell down your face as you hand touches him— his blood— smearing it on your face. He looked beautiful— even when he was half burnt. His blood was the darkest shade of red you've ever seen.

Why does everything has to be like this? You didn't even get to tell him about his baby, growing in your womb. You didn't get to see him smile. You didn't get to start a family with him.

'I will be back soon.' He said before leaving.

"You lied." You manage to let out between sobs.

Years passed after that incident. Nanami left this world, but his baby joined it. Your son has the same hair as him, which you like to style in the emo hairstyle in which you first saw his dad.

You shifted to malaysia after that, protecting your son, the only reason for you to live— living namami's dream, which you made yours.

a/n- sorry | ごめん なさい

[digitalpup444]

how i view bimbo!reader and princess!reader <3

☆ﾟ･*:.｡.☆

oookaayyyy, so i feel like dove cameron is the perfect example of what i imagine bimbo!reader looks like! i imagine her to be very bratty and high maintenance, always clinging to rafe’s arm in a cute little outfit that shows too much skin. she gets her nails done every two weeks on the dot, using rafe’s money, she always goes for a classic coffin french tip with an ‘R’ on her ring finger for rafe <3

she’s really not afraid to stand up for herself if rafe is next to her to reassure her, but when she’s alone? you bet she is running off crying if someone says something in the slightest mean tone to her.

she comes from money but that wasn’t always the case, a pogue turned kook basically after her dad got a promotion at his lawyer job. her mom is always wondering how her she got to be so ditzy considering that both of her parents are very smart with good jobs as a nurse and lawyer.

she’s very very small, only being about five foot one, which naturally always has her looking up at rafe whenever she’s talking to him.

megan fox is absolutely without a doubt, princess!reader. but to be more specific, megan fox in jennifer’s body. jennifer just captures the perfect, stuck up, bitchy, attitude that princess has towards everyone but jj, of course. she’s unfortunately a kook turned pogue after her single mother had to file for bankruptcy after her dad very recently divorced her, leaving them to live in a shitty trailer in the cut. she essentially joined the pogue gang after sarah, her best friend, introduced her to them after she asked who jj was at a beach party.

after that, princess just couldn’t keep her eyes off the blonde and fell in love with him at every glance. jj was the first to kiss her while they were out drunk and skinny dipping. he always makes sure she gets whatever she wants because she will definitely throw a tantrum over it but he knows how to shut that down real quick if it gets to be too much.

she is very book smart but acts dumb to make her look innocent and naive, which she uses that as an advantage to manipulate people to get what she wants.

princess has a slight kleptomania problem, stealing whatever she can’t afford. it’s where most of her wardrobe came from. she’s not afraid to take what she wants and it has definitely got her in some situations.

her wardrobe consists of pink, white, and basically anything that she finds ‘sexy’ and ‘slutty’. she’s not afraid to show off her body at all. on her relaxing days, she’s usually in a juicy couture tracksuit with a tight fitting tank top on. her shoes of choice are heels to make her seem taller and more intimidating since she’s only five foot four.

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

Do That Again

Summary - You meet a certain fellow after your roommate starts dating some guy.

Content Warnings - Language, heavy drinking, characters getting drunk, underaged drinking (please tell me if I missed anything)

A/N - I wrote this mostly because there are definitely a lack of Cassian x Reader fics out there and as much as I love Cass and Nesta, this felt necessary. *Do not repost my work without my express permission.* *Do not copy my work.*

1k words

✨ 💫

You and Cassian. Cassian and you. Attached at the hip in every sense of the phrase. If someone was looking for one of you, they’d find the other. The only time you weren’t together is if you didn’t have a class together or if one of you was going to the bathroom and even then if one of you was drunk enough… you might be in a close proximity.

You met Cassian through your friend and roommate, Feyre. Feyre, after a shitty high school boyfriend, met Rhysand at a party. Rhys was… well he was something. It was one of those situations where someone falls first and the other falls harder. Feyre fell hard. Like inches of cement hard. You’d be grinning with smug intent while Feyre’s face was absolutely red after getting back from an evening out with Rhys. Somewhere in the madness of first year the two crazy kids finally were official. You ensured you would meet him before summer break. You did. 

As Feyre’s friend, and body-guard , you were of course critical of the man. He certainly had an ego. But below it all he felt right for your friend. He treated her like an individual, a partner—not a possession. The same night you met Cassian at a party. Admittedly you were a little drunk. Okay, you were more than a little drunk. Okay, fine! You were very drunk. Like hookup-with-your-friend drunk. Thankfully he was drunk too, less drunk, but still drunk. Somewhere between the drinks, bad music, and watching Feyre and Rhys be sickeningly smitten with each other you and Cassian found a connection. It was like in kindergarten when your eyes land on any random person in the room and think, you’re cool and we’re friends now. 

You woke up the following morning with a hang-over on a couch to Feyre and Rhys stifling laughter. Your friend informed you it was the suite Rhysand and his friends shared on campus. How a group of first-years got that was beyond you, but you didn’t complain. You were still wearing your clothes and thanked the heavens you saw no vomit either. You managed yourself awake to see Cassian sprawled on the floor. You met Azriel that morning. 

“For the headache,” he said, as he offered you a glass of water and Aspirin. 

The three of you suffered while Feyre and Rhys remained wrapped up in each other all morning. 

The connection with Cassian only grew faster. You kept in contact over the summer, both constantly joking about the disgust you felt for the budding relationship between your friends. In truth you both were happy for Rhys and Feyre. Upon your return for your Sophomore year of university, the friendship solidified itself. You were constantly together. Staying up late to get work done, eating, studying, getting stupid drunk at parties. Despite the humor and jokes, you also found a deep comfort from each other. 

Cassian adored physical contact, which was perfect because you did too. Something you discovered when you woke up on the couch in the suite to your dear friend have a nightmare. 

“Just a nightmare, Cass. Just a nightmare,” you reassured him. He had clung to you, falling back asleep soon after. 

By the end of Sophomore year, you were literally inseparable, constantly draping over the other whenever you hung out as a group. A group you drunkenly named, Rhysand’s IC , because he was constantly parenting the rest of you alongside Feyre. IC standing for Idiot Children . 

One particularly very early morning, around 1am, you and Cass were draped over each other on the couch in the suite. The conversation topic was stupid things you did as children, and Cassian was letting out a particularly loud laugh when a cold-faced looking Az stepped out of his room, asking you to “pipe down”. 

Your junior year, Cassian managed a suite that could fit you and Feyre and you all lived together. Often times the night would end with Feyre and Rhys finding themselves together with you and Cassian sitting together having a drink while you braided Cass’s shoulder-length hair, talking about trivial matters. 

Your final year, Feyre and Rhys chose to live off campus because they wanted a place to themselves leaving you, Cass, and Az to fend for yourselves. Az wound up with a single while you and Cassian chose to share a room to be closer to the center of campus. Azriel was a floor above you. You spent night after together, sitting in the corner of your room, watching a movie together, or talking, or sitting in silence enjoying the other’s company. In hindsight it was crazy how quickly college had gone by. 

Cassian had become your dearest friend through it all. His humor you adored, but it was his caring and passionate nature which had you feeling more deeply for him. And suddenly you were stumbling back from an We’re Almost Graduated party Rhys and Feyre hosted.

✨💫

“There’s a spider on your shoulder!!” You shout as you stumble into your dorm room with Cass. You cackle as Cass squeals, squeezing his eyes shut. 

You step forward to flick the spider off his shoulder and he screams making you laugh and nearly keel over. He catches you before you do, a hand landing on your hip. An electric buzz bolts through you. For all the times you’d been in contact this felt different. Maybe it’s the alcohol, the fact that his hand has never been on your hip before, or the the excitement of graduation. 

“Cass?” You ask him, his hand still resting against your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Y/N?” His question is met with a moment of silence. And then suddenly Cassian’s hands are cupping your cheeks and he’s kissing you. 

Your eyes flutter shut before he’s pulling away. The kiss somehow intoxicating and sobering. There’s a stupid grin on your best friends face. “You know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

He’s met with silence for a while. You are unable to move. Finally you manage words. “Do that again.”

There is a mild question in his eyes. 

“Do that again,” you repeat. 

Cassian doesn’t need to be told a third time.

[wishyouloveme]

mickey milkovich rich bitch headcanons

song rec for fic:

Warnings:Terry Milkovich

A/N: hii. I kinda might have sort of quit writing? I don't know anymore,but right now I'm not writing anything unless it's requested!

Pairing: Mickey Milkovich x reader, a tiny bit of Mandy Milkovich x reader

requested? By Anonymous,May I please request headcanons for mickey from Shameless about him having a Northside girlfriend? She kinda of ditzy(but smart in her own way) and she's sweet and posting his bail(her parents are rich or she got inheritance or whatever) whenever he's gets arrested for assaulting whoever is flirting with her. Also she's cool with Fiona and always gives her and Debbie her old clothes whenever she goes shopping. Ps she's always invited Fiona and V to go shopping"

Headcannons under the cut

× You and Micky met through Mandy,having met Mandy at school,and bonded through having shitty families.

× Mandy brought you by the house,and unsurprisingly Mickey hated you immedietly. The way your hair was so damn shiny, the way your clothes fit you oh so perfectly,and the way your jewelry fitted your personality so well.

× He only ever figured out your home situation when he heard you late on night,talking with Mandy after a particularly hard fight with your parents,and after that you two were stuck together at the hip

× The first time you agreed to go out with Mickey,you two went for a walk and talked,not very romantic i know,but I feel like Mickey would much rather take a walk with you then be stuck in a stuffy restaurant where he had to dress all fancy.

× When you were walking with him,and a guy comes up to you and flirts,you not realizing,thinking he was just being nice and basic waving off all his advances,so naturally Mickey beats the shit out of him.

× When you posted his bail,you immedietlg scolded him for getting blood on your new skirt,to which he apologized with butterfly kisses and play fights.

× All of the times you went shopping,he always hated going,but would go anyways,because you were going,and he always wanted you near him.

× When youd buy a new perfume,if he hated the smell,you never wore it again,due to him mostly just smelling you 24/7 when you guys cuddled.

× I feel like when he first heard you were giving Debbie your clothes,he'd complain,he'd bitch,he'd be flabbergasted as to why you wanted to give away clothes. He never had that connection with them,so he never understood how you did.

× Then you two were in bed,he never wanted to actually do anything,with you,surprisingly he was okay with waiting,and just spending hours talking.

× Once you guys actually did it,he was so loving afterwards,massaging your legs so you weren't sore,pressing kisses to your sweaty body,and helping you shower when you could barely stand.

× The first time you ever met Terry he mistaked you for his dead wife,and Mickey immedietly dropped in,protecting you and beating the shit out of his father.

× Surprisingly,when Terry wasn't a drunk Jerkoff (so barely ever) you two actually got somewhat along. He reminded you of your dad,which,made you immedietly want to curl up and cry.

× Before you and Mickey got together,you always hung out with Mandy,sharing everything,a lot of people thought you two were gay,to which you immedietly said no,and that you were straight. You and Mandy might have flirted a little,but it was all friendly,and never actually meant.

× Of course that all stopped the minute you got with Mickey

×Mickey dreamed about getting the hell out of Southside, and thankfully,you had the money to help with that.

× You two bought a little house outside of the city.

[sweetprfct]

Is It Over Now?

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?

Author's Note: Here we go! Part 8!! Enjoy! Comments are always welcome! :)

Disclaimer: 18+, smut

Wordcount: 4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

The sound of a squeaky toy and a sudden sharp pain that you felt on your face woke you up the next morning. You shot your eyes up and found Elena standing in front of you. Her small fingers playing together as she stared at you, acting like throwing one of her squeaky toys on your face was a normal thing. 

“Hey Elena.” You murmured, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Abby quickly picked up Elena in her arms. “Elena, we don’t throw toys at people’s faces.” Abby shook her head and walked away. 

You blinked your eyes, adjusting them from the light that was coming through the window. Your eyes shifted around the room and realized that you were laying on Sara and Abby’s sofa. The blur memory of you running out of the event last night and the thought of not knowing where you could go, you slowly remembered crashing at Sara and Abby’s place. 

Mascara stained tears on your face and your strappy heels in your hand as you knocked on their front door at midnight. You knew bothering them was the last thing you wanted to do, but you had nowhere else to go, and you definitely didn’t want to go back to your flat after what happened at the event. After a few knocks on their door, you figured they were asleep already, especially with having Elena now. So, you sat on their front steps and quietly sobbed. Your hands on your face as you tried to make sense of everything that happened.

Joe kissed you. 

You kissed Joe.

“I want this to be real.” Joe’s voice echoed in your mind. 

You gazed up at the starry night sky and asked the Universe as to why you were put into this situation. Why was it so difficult for you to accept someone good in your life? Why was it whenever you tried to let go, you kept moving a step back? Why were you so terrified? Usually, you’d blame your own mother for being so cold to you all your life and the fact that you grew up seeing her marriage fail miserably but as you thought about Joe, this wasn’t your mother’s fault anymore. 

This was your own doing. You were an adult now, and you have been blaming your mother for all the fears that you had, but you didn’t have to. You had your own choice, your own life, and your own decisions. You weren’t like your mother. Joe wasn’t like your father, who would pick fights. You were your own person, and you were the one who kept making these shitty decisions in your life.

Hearing quiet footsteps from the inside, you looked over your shoulder and saw the lights illuminated the house through the window. The front door was unlocked, and Sara stood in her silk robe with Abby standing right behind her.

“Hey.” 

As soon as you got up from the steps, Sara’s eyes widened from the image of you. You were barefoot, your dress was all wrinkled, and your mascara was basically melting on your face. Before she could say something, you immediately ran to your best friend’s arms in embrace. Sara was taken aback for a moment as Abby gave her a concerned look. This wasn’t like you. Sara knew there was something terrible that happened if you were the one who initiated the hug. Abby softly rubbed your back as they both comforted you, closing the front door and letting you inside the house. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sara rubbed your back softly as you sobbed on her shoulder.

“I fucked up.” You whispered through your sobs. 

“Let me get you some tea.” Abby said, walking away from the both of you.

Sara led you into the living room and settled you on the sofa, wrapping a throw blanket around your shoulders. You set your high heels down on the floor and pulled the blanket close to your chest. Your body was trembling from the cold and all the emotions that you were feeling.

“Here.” Abby handed you the cup of tea before sitting next to Sara, rubbing her arm softly. 

“Thanks. I’m sorry I came here so late.” Another tear rolled down your cheek. “I… I just didn’t know where else to go.”

“What happened?” Sara asked. 

“Joe and I kissed.” You sniffed, wiping your nose with your hand. “I fucked up.” 

“Hey, come here.” Sara pulled you into her embrace as you wrapped your arms tightly around her. 

“We can talk about this tomorrow. You need to rest.” Sara murmured. 

“Yeah, you look so exhausted.” Abby pursed her lips, brushing your hair away from your face. 

“Okay.” You sniffed, pulling away from Sara’s arms. 

Abby gave you a small sad smile as she softly rubbed your back. Eventually, the two women handed you a pillow and a blanket. Leaving you alone on the sofa, you stared at the dark empty nothingness in front of you, repeating the events of the night in your mind. Brushing your lips softly with your fingers, you remembered Joe’s lips on yours and how soft they were. 

“Are you alright?” Sara asked, snapping you back in reality. 

You nodded your head, sitting up on the sofa and found Sara standing in front of you with two cups of tea in her hands. She handed you one and sat next to you, settling herself comfortably on the sofa. 

“Sorry about last night.” You took a sip of your tea. 

“Don’t worry about it. Abby and I were pretty worried about you. What happened?”

Letting out a sigh, you explained to Sara exactly what happened last night and all the emotions that you have been feeling towards Joe. Though, it wasn’t something you expected at all because why would Joe even waste his time on you since he has been trying to get Ivy’s attention this whole time? You explained to Sara how you have been telling yourself over and over again that it was all because you two had a few drinks and maybe, Joe was just tipsy and wasn’t thinking right. At the same time, the words he told you, you couldn’t get it out of your mind. 

“Have you ever thought that maybe Joe doesn’t feel that way about Ivy anymore?” Sara asked. 

“He’s so obsessed with her. There’s no way he just stopped feeling that way about her.” 

“What if he never felt that way about her this whole time? What if he finally realized that?” 

Abby walked back in the living room with Elena in her arms with a smile on her face. 

“See, I know he had feelings for you this whole time.” Abby chimed in. 

You watched as Elena reached her arms for you as you smiled and took her from Abby’s arms. You settled Elena on your lap, brushing her hair softly. 

“Babe, that doesn’t matter unless she also accepts the fact that she feels the same way.” Sara told Abby.

You watched as Abby sat behind Sara and wrapped her arms around her. You gave them both a small smile before gently playing with Elena’s tiny fingers. You watched as Elena tried to put your index finger on her mouth, while you pulled it away. The sound of all your laughter echoed in the living room as you continued to play with Elena on your lap. 

“You need to stop being so terrified of your feelings, my sweet.” Abby told you, making you gazed up at her with furrowed brows. “You need to accept the fact that you like Joe. That you actually feel something for him. You deserve to be happy too, you know?”

“As much as I didn’t like how this all started…” Sara rolled her eyes at the idea. “I want you to remember that you’re not like your mother nor your parents. Not all relationships will end in fire.”

“What if…” You sighed. “What if he only thinks he likes me because I’m the one who has been spending so much time with? What if he changes his mind then? I don’t want to be a rebound or his second choice just because it didn’t work out with her.” 

“Maybe you really should stop running and tell Joe that.” Abby suggested. “If all of this doesn’t work out, at least you could still save your friendship.”

“Yeh!” Elena exclaimed, holding up her toy in the air as the three of you laughed. 

“Even Elena agrees.” Sara laughed, poking Elena’s stomach softly, making the little girl giggle. 

“Yeah? Do you?” You tilted your head at Elena and planted repeated soft kisses on her cheek as she giggled loudly, kicking her feet. 

Going home later that afternoon, you were ready to try and face whatever was waiting for you back in your flat. However, as you walked down the hall, you saw the one person that you didn’t expect to see after what happened last night. Ivy exiting out of your flat and passing you by, her eyes giving you a death glare. Her hair was a mess, and she looked like she spent the night at your flat. 

Suddenly, the knot in your stomach started forming again as you unlocked the door and entered the quiet flat. You found Joe picking up the extra pillow and folding the throw blanket on the sofa that you guessed Ivy probably used last night. 

You couldn’t believe it. 

You were ready to let Joe know how you felt about him but here he was fucking Ivy on your sofa after kissing you last night. 

Was he trying to just play the both of you? Was he just lying to you last night about not being a second choice? 

You didn’t believe anything he said anymore because as far as you saw, his actions were speaking louder than his words. 

“Hey,” Joe said as soon as he saw you enter the flat. “Can we talk?”

Your eyes were focused on the pillows and blankets, and you didn’t know why but anger and frustration was washing over you. Joe told you all those things last night and yet, here he was with Ivy again. He just couldn’t let her go, and you didn’t want to be the collateral damage because Joe was being so indecisive about what he wanted.

“About last night…I’m not sure what happened.” 

Of course, all of a sudden, he sounded like he was regretting what happened. You should have known. You should have expected this already. Joe was just like everyone else. He was the same as your father. He was the same with the many many toxic men out there. You didn’t know why you fell for him anyway. You should have seen this coming. 

“No, it’s fine. I think I know what’s going on…” You cut him off, helping him out with his explanation that he was struggling to tell you. “You were caught up with everything, and you realized that it was a mistake, which is okay because I know how much you love Ivy.”

Joe knitted his brows, confused. He dropped the pillow and blanket on the sofa and walked around it. 

“No,” He murmured, walking closer to you. “I mean I’m not sure what happened. What did I do for you to run away? Did I do something wrong? I thought–”

“No, you didn’t.” You cut him off again. “I… It was inappropriate, Joe.” 

“How is it inappropriate if we both feel the same?”

Joe slowly took a few more steps as you felt your breath hitched, his eyes staring in yours. You were weak for him as he gently cupped your cheek with one hand. You couldn’t breathe. You felt the butterflies flutter in your stomach and Abby and Sara’s words echoed in your mind: You deserve to be happy too, you know.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? 

Joe told you something different last night and then you found him with Ivy the next morning. So, what made his words now any different? You were left to bleed last night as he enjoyed another night with Ivy. 

“I’m leaving, Joe.” You spat out the words. 

“What do you mean?”

You looked away, letting his hand slip from your face as he stood there in shock. He knew that you were trying to move out, but he didn’t think he was going to lose you this fast. 

“I found a new flat. I’m leaving.” You stated. 

You knew it was a lie. 

You haven’t even done one research for a new flat. If you had to live on the streets or crash into a hotel then so be it. You couldn’t stay in this flat any longer and face Joe. You couldn’t keep letting your emotions lead you and then get disappointed again. 

“Why? Why are you running away from this?” Joe asked. 

You walked around him and started making your way down the hall. “I’m not running away from anything. The plan worked and so, maybe it’s time for Ivy to move in here, and you both could finally be together.”

“Why can’t you see it?” Joe grabbed your hand, pausing you from your tracks in the middle of the hall. 

You looked over your shoulder and stared at your hand with Joe’s. Your eyes met his, and he could see the anger in your eyes, but he could also see how much you were holding back from him. He stepped forward, turning your body to face him. 

“Why can’t you see that I don’t want Ivy? That for a long time, I never wanted her anymore. That it’s you that I want.”

“Joe, this isn’t…” You shook your head. 

You felt Joe’s thumb softly caressing the back of your hand. His face was inches from yours. You found his other hand slowly caressing your cheek, and you were slowly becoming a sinking ship, and he was the ocean. 

How could he make you feel like this? 

How could one touch, one stare from those chocolate button eyes could immediately make you a puddle on the floor? 

“You’re never a second choice nor a rebound.” Joe murmured. “I want to be with you because I love you.”

Suddenly, your heartbeat was beating like there was a storm in your chest. Joe loves you, and you have forgotten how to breathe. You had to blink a few times to make sure you weren’t dreaming and to make sure that you actually heard that right. 

“Joe…” You whispered, looking through your lashes.

Your lips trembled as he softly brushed his nose against yours. His thumb softly tracing your pink lips. 

“I love you so much.” Joe added. “It consumes every bone of my body every day and knowing that I couldn’t hold you in my arms, it kills me.”

Your lungs couldn’t find air, and your eyes were starting to get hazy as you felt the fire between the both of you radiated. Your hands found his wrists, gripping it on tightly, and your eyes sparkled as you stared at him. It was almost like a permission that you were giving to Joe.

A permission that you were finally letting go. 

A sign that you wanted him. 

That if you were to stand here one more second without kissing him, you didn’t know what you would do. 

He studied the constellations in your eyes before pressing his lips against yours. This time, you couldn’t let yourself hold back. You kissed him back deeply, closing your eyes and letting every emotion that you held in for the last few months finally washed over you. His kiss sent electricity down your body and down to your toes.

This was real. 

You were kissing Joe for real this time, and no one was stopping you. 

Joe’s hands slowly ran down your back before finding your hips and pulled you close against him. A small moan escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. You let his tongue slide inside your mouth, earning a moan from him. You both stayed like that in the middle of the hall, Joe’s back pressed against the wall and your body pressed against his.

The world was a blur around you both until you finally pulled away from the kiss breathlessly. Joe pressed his forehead against yours, a smile creeping up on his face that made your heart skip a beat. Your fingers tugged on his shirt before you pulled it over his head. You let your eyes study his bare skin, your fingers tracing every inch of him, wondering what secrets he kept in there. What scars did he also have in his skin for him to understand and love you this way.

He didn’t say anything as his eyes followed every move your fingers did. 

He was so beautiful. 

Joe’s skin was hot, and he stood tall in front of you with broad shoulders. Joe’s fingers had found the zipper of your dress, and he slowly unzipped it, letting the shoulder straps fall gently from your shoulders. Pulling you close, his soft lips kissed your bare shoulder as you gasped softly. Then, his lips traced the edge of your jawline and down your neck, letting his mouth suck on the skin softly. 

He was kissing away all your fears.

Kissing away all the insecurities that you have trapped inside of you.

Kissing it all away so gently. 

As Joe earned another soft moan from you, he let his hands slide down the back of your thighs before helping you up and let your legs clung around his body. He walked you into his bedroom, your eyes studying the four walls. You have never crossed his boundaries before and this was your first time inside his room. You were entering his private space that you have kept yourself distant for a long time. He was letting you inside his world, and you couldn’t help but study every detail of it as he gently laid you down on his bed. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Joe whispered, towering over you. 

Your eyes were staring in his chocolate button eyes, your hands reaching for his cheek as you gently let your fingers brush the soft stubble that was on his face. Your eyes followed your fingers as it danced across his skin, making Joe close his eyes and enjoy your soft touch. Then, your thumb found his lips, tracing it all so softly. 

He seemed so delicate, and you didn’t want to ruin him. 

“I’m terrified, Joe.” You whispered.

Opening his eyes, Joe gazed down at you. His stare was pulling your heartstrings as you felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter. You have never felt like this with anyone, and it was a terrifying feeling. 

You wanted this to be right. 

You wanted to trust Joe.

You wanted to leap as he caught you on the bottom of this cliff. 

But would he still accept you even if you were covered with past scars? Would he still love you then? Would he understand everything if you snapped yourself in half and let him see every dark corner inside of you? 

Taking your hand that was on his cheek, he leaned against it before planting a soft kiss on the palm of your hand.

“I know.” He murmured. “I know it’s scary, but I want to show you how much I love you. How much you deserved to be loved and cared for. I want to understand every corner of your mind.” 

He breathed heavily. A soft kiss pressed on your lips before his eyes found you again. 

You didn’t know where or who you were anymore. 

You were just now floating. 

“I want to be the one who makes you smile and forget all those fears that you have inside. I want to make you happy.” He added. 

A small smile tugged on your lips before letting your hand slip through his hair and onto the back of his head, pulling him down to you and kissing him passionately. Both of your lips moved together as you started unbuttoning Joe’s pants and slipped it off of him, throwing it on the floor along with your red silk dress. 

Joe’s lips trailed down your neck and down between your breasts as he used his hand to cup one of your breasts and squeezed it lightly. He earned a small gasp from you as he smiled through your skin and sucked one of your nipples, making you moan his name out loud.

“Joe…” 

You arched your back as Joe trailed his lips all the way down to your stomach and down to your inner thighs, planting soft kisses on them. He pushed both of your legs to open them wider, his finger finding your wet clit. 

“Oh, darling. You’re so wet for me already.” Joe chuckled softly, letting his fingers play with your clit, earning another moan from you.

“Joe.. I—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Joe’s mouth had found you, and your body was squirming from the way he licked and sucked you. Your hands had found the bedsheets, clutching it into a fist as you let Joe eat you out until you were breathless. Towering over you again, Joe kissed your lips, tasting yourself in his mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“Mmm..” Joe moaned softly in your ear. 

You wanted him. 

You needed him. 

Now.

Taking his member in your hand, you let himself slip inside of you, both of you moaning together. Joe slowly moved inside of you, his lips finding yours again, his spare hand squeezing your breast and playing with your nipple. Your hazy eyes could barely open as Joe moved faster, your walls slowly tightening around him as he let out another moan.

Kissing you deeply, your nails dug on the skin of his back, your legs trembling as you felt yourself getting close. Breathlessly, you arched your body as Joe trailed his lips on your jawline and down your neck before burying his face there. 

“Ohmygod.” You whispered breathless. “Joe—!”

“Let go, darling. Come for me, love.” He whispered as he moved deeper inside of you, your walls tightening around him even more.

Not a minute later, both of your bodies trembled as orgasm washed over the both of you at the same time. Loud moans echoed around his room as you both tried to catch your breaths. Finally opening your eyes, you saw Joe gazing down at you with a small smile on his face. He gently brushed the strand of your hair that was sticking on your forehead before planting a soft kiss there. 

“I love you.” He murmured those three little words again.

They were only three little words but how come it always made you forget the world around you? It was like a switch that turns on inside of you, and you were just in your own little world with Joe. 

But you couldn’t say anything. There was still something that was holding you back, and it wouldn’t be fair to him. Although, Joe wasn’t in a hurry for you to say it back. He knew how much you struggled facing your real feelings, and he never wanted to press you on that. Laying next to you, Joe pulled his duvet covers over you and pulled you close next to him. As you laid your head on his bare chest, you closed your eyes and repeated those three little words again.

Joe loves you.

But the thought of Ivy being here with him last night was still making you struggle inside your mind. You wanted to believe him because you felt the same for him, but how could you? You just fucked your flatmate and the man that you have been pretending to be your boyfriend for months. He was telling you those three little words, and you couldn’t help but scold at yourself for having a hard time believing it. 

Joe loves you.

You love Joe.

So, what the fuck was the problem? 

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot

[getosbunsblog]

Levi (Snek boi) x reader smut

CW: TWO PENISES. Handjob, blowjob. Slight jealousy issues. He puts only one in cuz he’s like scared. Mammon is in here too cuz ur a slut. Ahem 69, cum play (don’t play with your food kids). Cervix breach. You’re just filthy here. Shitty plot but that’s not why you’re here anyways, you want snu snu.

——————————————————————————

You and Levi had become close friends over the time you’ve been in devildom. Having mutual interest and such. He’s actually developed quite the crush on you. Whenever he’s nearby he blushes and loses all his train of thought. But you’re also the only person who he can relax with.

He heard you giggling down the hall in mammons room. While he felt envious, it was nothing new. You always found that moron amusing. The giggling stopped though. Almost suddenly. And no one was talking. He stood up to hear slightly better and then he heard a loud thud. He bolted out of his room. He still heard noises so he quietly opened the door. You were sitting on mammons pool table while his head was in between your legs. You were moaning his name over and over again. Levi could feel himself turn as red as a tomato. Out of anger and slight arousal.

You saw a light from the coroner or you’re eye. The door had been opened. “Oh shit is it Lucifer again?” Was your first thought but then u saw lavender hair and a flushed face. You started lightly smacking mammons head but he didn’t get the message. Levi was just there wide-eyed and in shock. Also in disbelief at how dumb mammon is. You then started yelling “LEVI, LEVI” which made mammon come up and go “what ya sayin that geeks name for? I’m the one eating you out. That virgin couldn’t make you feel like this” mammon glared at you, you pointed to the door. Terrified he turned around and saw Levi standing there. Face red and a slight bulge in his pants “WHAT ARE YOU STANDING THERE FOR?! A FREE SHOW? SCRAM” and with that Levi did, he ran with tears in his eyes.

Levi pov:

Was that how you and mammon talked about him when he wasn’t there??? He started sobbing at the thought of you not actually liking him and just pretending too. We’re you always pretending??? He was crying so hard at the thought of his Henry secretly hating him. His only friend. He barley noticed he was hard. Whilst upset he couldn’t not get hard seeing you half naked on that pool table. Panties hanging on your ankles while your shirt was taken off. Clearly you were braless or atleast just expecting mammon to fuck your brains out. Mammon was right he could never make you feel as good. It was for the best that he was the one doing it. And then he heard a knock at the door “Levi” you said sweetly. He froze. What now?! He stayed silent but you heard him shuffling. “Levi, please I’m sorry about what mammon said” he thought it was sweet. That you came to apologize knowing how sensitive the third born is. “Levi, open up let’s talk” but he was terrified. And said “can you give me a minute?” He needed to get rid of this hard on. And your sweet voice wasn’t helping. So innocent and sweet. Like honey and nectar. He heard light sobbing behind the door. You must’ve thought he was mad at you. He stood up and bolted to the door. He would rather you see his embarrassing hard on than have you cry. He swung open the door and saw u with tears in your eyes, hugging yourself. He grabbed you and pulled you in. Sitting down onto his couch with you beside him

Your pov:

You sat down feeling so bad about the situation you were crying. You climbed into Levi’s lap and put your arms around his shoulders. He was blushing like usual but you just sat there whispering apologizes to him “I’m so sorry Levi, you and me both know that you could make someone feel just as good as mammon can, it’s not right for him to be mean about you lacking experience, I actually think it’s sweet” he looked at you and responded “sweet huh?” “Yea like you’re waiting for someone special”

You pulled out from his neck where u we’re nuzzled and smiled at him. Giving him a kiss on his forehead. Something inside him just imploded and he went for your lips. Locking his lips with yours. You responded kindly to the kiss and moved your lips onto his as well. His tongue poked out tried to get into your mouth. It felt different. You briefly pulled away to confirm something. His tongue sticking out you realized he had a tongue like a snake. “Wow” he looked away “I-I-I know it’s weird, we can stop-“ you slammed your face back on his. God his tongue was sexy. You wish he would eat you out with that tongue. As you continued your hard nipples pressed through your button down and onto his chest. He ripped it off popping the buttons. It was strange to see Levi so dominant. you liked it though

His mouth latched onto one and you started moaning. You were already so sensitive from not finishing earlier. He let it go with a pop. You slid your body down until you were on your knees between his legs. You undid his pants and tried to pull them down before your hand was stopped. “N-no. It’s um different than what you usually see” you kinda just assumed he was uncircumcised or some simple shit. “Levi it doesn’t matter to me, I just wanna be close to you” he then let go of your hand. His face softening. You pulled his face down and two massive cocks smacked you in the cheek. “Holy shit” you stared at him like a kid in a candy store. He looked surprised at your joy. You took the smallest one. (Even though it was still 8.5 inches) into your mouth and started stroking the top one with your hand. He starts lowly whimpering. But then the dominant side comes out again. “Stop” he very clearly demanded, you looked at him surprised. He then laid straight across the couch and then told you to get on top. When you went to hover over his cocks he corrected you. He pulled your cunt to his face. Pulling down your pink lacy panties, with a string of your fluid attached. He left your pretty plaid skirt on the though.

You got the memo and continued giving kitten licks to his other cock now. While switching your hand to the bottom one. He ran his pronged tongue across your clit. You were so into sucking his cocks. You didn’t hear a video start. You noticed he took a hand off your ass and you tried to look to see what he was doing but he thrusted his hips into your mouth and distracted you once again. “WHO MAKES YOU FEEL THE BEST BABY?” He said. “You, you Levi. No one else” you said sobbing “ah yea say my name again, player 2” You were screaming his name onto his cock. You came and squirted on his face and his phone. He then started pulsing in your mouth. Cumming on your face and in your mouth. You turned around your face covered in his cum and your tongue sticking out. Also covered in his cum. You put your fingers on your tongue and started to play with the cum. “Hehe look it has blue sparkles in it” you said innocently. He finally stopped recording. You looked so happy playing with the white liquid with blue glitter in it. It was falling onto your chest and tits. “Aw, no. It tasted good” you said with puppy eyes.

He wiped the cum off your face with his thumb and put it in your mouth. You hummed in satisfaction at the taste. He pulled it out, a trail of saliva following the thumb and leaned onto his chest kissing his neck. You had no intention of finishing yet.

——————————————————————————

EXTRA

Mammon, still pissed about being interrupted laid down on his bed groaning in disappointment. He decided it was probably time to sleep. As he was drifting off he heard a “ding” from his phone. He checked, it was Levi. He sat up to see better as he waited for the video to load, he assumed it was a meme video. But then he saw the thumbnail of you naked and playing with Levi’s cum and screaming his name

“Oh it’s on Levi”

[jxsterr]

ghhghgb pre calamity zelink but zelda grows a quiet rebellious streak after her father forbids her from engaging with sheikah technology and link volunteers as her ‘grew up as a regular village boy so of course he’s a terrible influence’ sidekick so they sneak around and do all sorts of things kids their age do because they yearn to feel at least a little bit normal despite all the pressure on their shoulders. also because i’m still hung up on why the hell his royal cap was in her room

i’m a slowburn truther but hear me out

i’m talking about link soothing an upset and understandably frustrated zelda as she rants about how unfair being forbidden to engage in something she enjoys by suggesting they simply just sneak out and enjoy it anyway. by telling her that he knows the patrolling routines well enough from being around the other guards so often that he can evade them. that he’d take the brunt of it if they were ever caught and watches how stars burst in her eyes at the prospect. he tells her that if rhoam is willing to void her of any sort of hobbies, any kind of relief from the stresses of her duty that they will simply make it themselves

so they learn to sneak around. he takes her out late at night to marvel and prod at the inactive guardians, jotting down notes and making sketches of the mechanisms as he keeps watch for her. she sneaks into the guards quarters to see him whenever she’s been too caught up in prayers and duties for him to be around. he sneaks into her bedroom to sprawl out on her bed while she dishes the castle gossip idly or drags him into her study and miserably details her struggles at growing a silent princess herself. they essentially become each other’s source of respite

but you know what i eat up the most?? them having the thought that. damn. they’ll never get to experience what a lot of kids their age get to because of their positions and responsibilities. they’ll never get to experience proper physical affection from another person, or steal wine from the kitchens and deal with the consequences of being a little too overzealous with it, or even experience what it’s like to be kissed. they’re just two kids desperate to feel normal just for a little while

so they’re like fuck it. the world could genuinely end tomorrow so why not start ticking off the list. they’re two people stuck in a shitty situation against their own volition who’ve grown close because of it and trust each other with their lives. why not help each other live a little

so they do it. they let tentative fingers tangle themselves whenever they dare stand near, cuddle on zelda’s bed after a long day until they fall asleep by accident and have to figure out a gameplan to get him the hell out without being suspicious about it, steal a bottle of wine to take turns drinking from on the battlement between her room and her study and cough at how damn strong it is because they didn’t realise you had to sip it, and exchange lingering kisses behind the safety of her bedroom door because why not. they lose even when they’re playing good, so why not take a little bit of control of their lives and do something for them when the calamity could appear at literally any point. they may as well live every day like their last when there’s so much to lose and nothing to gain.

it doesn’t even matter if they catch feelings from any of it anyway because they can figure it out if they even get past ganon. nothing is for certain when her cursed powers refuse to answer her so what the hell does it matter. so what if it starts with kisses that only occur occasionally when they’ve stolen wine again and their hearts can’t seem to stay off their sleeves for long enough to realise just how close zelda is sat next to him. so what if they use it once while completely sober to reassure the other in a last ditch attempt to calm them down and it just kinda sticks. so what if it becomes a game of how many they can sneak in small fleeting moments where every second counts and they only just about avoid getting caught. it’s a little bit of fun and goddess knows they need something good for once

they’ll figure out what all of this means after everything—and that’s if there’s still anything to come back to

[spider-brained-manthing]

Like Heaven (ftm!Miguel O’Hara x ftm!reader)

Reposting this because for some reason it wasn’t showing up in the tags last time????

Warnings: nsfw, semi-public fucking, implied switch ftm Miguel, vaguely implied switch ftm reader, praise, begging, edging, implied that Miguel has had a crush on the reader

18+, mdni

Fic under cut

Miguel O’Hara was three things: one of your closest friends in the Spider-society, incredibly attractive, and your boss. This situation was not helped by the fact that he was also one of the first other Spiders you met and who helped you when he found you in a shitty situation back in your universe. While you also loved the other Spiders you were close with, Miguel seemed to stand out to you the most, and it wasn’t just the previous things, nor was it just his tall frame, his eyes that seemed to shift between red and dark brown, his sharp fangs, or his stupidly perfect hair.

No. For some reason, he seemed as equally drawn to you as you were to him. He seemed more protective of you than he did of any of the other Spiders he especially cared for. Even Peter. Even Jess, who was in a much more vulnerable state than you, what with her being an expecting mother.

Whenever you were in HQ and Miguel had a free moment, he sought you out. If you were in the cafeteria, there he was, approaching your table silently with a tray containing food you knew he’d offer most of to you. In the gym at HQ? Miguel was there, helping you with tough exercises, or sometimes just watching you while he did his own thing.

You sometimes wondered if he knew something was about to happen.

After three, maybe four, months of this, you got up the courage to ask Miguel about what he was doing. A perfect opportunity came up when he called you to his office and you knew no one else would probably be there.

Your footsteps echoed loudly in the dark empty, alone except for yourself, the machinery, and the to-go order of empanadas you got for yourself and Miguel. Of course, you knew Miguel was probably watching you walk to his office; he always did that whenever someone went to talk to him there.

Miguel’s platform was already lowering itself towards the ground when you you get to his office. You stood maybe fifty feet away from where the platform would land, not wanting to rush the conversation too much.

You watched as the tall man hopped off of his platform and walked closer to you. As friendly offering, you lifted the to-go box with the empanadas a bit higher.

“That’s… not necessary.” Miguel’s eyes flitted to the box, but despite his words, the corners of his mouth tugged up in an almost smile.

“Here, take them. I don’t care what you do with them when I leave, but don’t make me carry them all day.” You tossed the box to Miguel with a smile, and he caught it effortlessly. He placed it on a chair on his platform.

“Thanks for coming in on such short notice.” Miguel said when he returned his gaze back to you.

“No problem.” You shifted nervously. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something anyway.”

“Oh, really? What do you need to tell me?” The other man’s eyes quickly looked you over once.

You felt yourself blush, but you went on anyway. “I was just gonna ask you something but I’m sure it’s not as important as what you called me here for.”

“You can ask now.”

“Are you sure?”

Miguel raised eyebrow. “Just go ahead and ask. The reason I called you here can wait.”

“Oh. Uh. I just… noticed, that you’ve been actively spending a lot of time with me compared to the others, and I guess I just want to know why.”

Miguel raised both eyebrows this time. “Come here, I have something to show you. Maybe this will help explain.” He beckoned you to follow him to his platform, and you obliged.

One screen showed a video of a couple who, upon closer inspection, closely resembled you and Miguel, but clearly from another universe.

“What’s this?” You asked, your voice nearly failing. You couldn’t deny that you really liked Miguel, maybe that you were attracted to him.

“This is us. Well, a version of us anyway. I found out about them just a few months ago. They’re from earth-483.”

You realized that Miguel might have started paying closer attention to you around the same tile he discovered this couple that was you and him in another universe. Without meaning to, you leaned closer to the screen.

The pair on the screen looked fancy, almost like… almost like they were getting married. You looked back at Miguel, more confused than before.

“Maybe I should explain more. On earth-483, we got married, even had a kid.” Miguel looked at you, must have seen your initial reaction before it slipped off your face. “I know, I know. Just because they’re versions of us doesn’t make them exactly like us.”

“I know.” You gave Miguel an amused smile. “But this doesn’t really explain anything.”

Miguel sighed and moved closer to you. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, you know. When I found out about this version of us, happy and together, I knew it wasn’t just a random feeling.” You could almost feel Miguel’s body, a presence that felt warm, steady, and strong.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Miguel, do you even hear what you’re saying? They’re from the same dimension as each other, we’re not.”

“I know.” Miguel’s voice got quiet. “Trust me.”

“I trust you, but I don’t think I quite understand you.”

“Then let me explain.” Normally when he said something like this, Miguel would be annoyed or pissed, but this time, he seemed to be neither of those things. His hot breath hit the back of your breath, and suddenly everything made sense.

You were attracted to him too, but you knew you had to be careful. Miguel’s hands crept around your torso and you grabbed them. You didn’t force him away, but you didn’t know how far this would go.

Still, you felt a warm, fluttery feeling just below your stomach. Miguel’s hands slowly went lower, and you didn’t stop him. Soon, his hands found the hem of the top half of your Spider suit and immediately plunged underneath the fabric.

“Is this okay?” Miguel asked, lips ghosting against the back of your neck. You repressed a moan and nodded.

“This is okay.” You said quietly. Immediately, Miguel’s hands started moving back up your torso, but this time underneath your suit. His warm hands felt almost like Heaven against your skin.

“This would be better off.” Miguel muttered, so the two of you shimmied the top half of your suit off. Miguel had you turn around so he could see more of you. His eyes lingered on your top surgery scars for a moment but that didn’t change anything about his expression or demeanor.

“What are you doing?” You asked again. Miguel moved in even closer. He put his hands on your waist and held you firmly. You watched as the top half of his suit melted away, leaving his chest bare. You were pleasantly surprised to see the surgical scars on his chest that matched yours.

The warmth of the sudden chest to chest contact made everything Miguel did, every seemingly out of place word he uttered, make sense. Through the parts of your respective shits that remained on, you felt the heat between Miguel’s legs.

Slowly, Miguel slid one hand behind the waistband of your suit. His fingers found their way through the fabric of your underwear, and to your swollen tdick. Your hips automatically responded to the pleasure, pressing against Miguel’s fingers.

“May I remove this?” Miguel asked, his breath once again hitting your neck.

“Yes. Please.” You moaned. Miguel’s hands slowly worked your pants down your legs. You attempted to help him, but he swatted your hands away.

Miguel’s height made it so that he had to crouch to get your pants below your knees. It seemed like he kept on almost getting distracted by your glistening tdick and your warm folds, but his hands kept pushing your pants down until they reached your ankles. Miguel helped you kick your pants to the side.

The man’s warm tongue flicked against your clit the moment your feet were planted again. Your hands tangled themselves in Miguel’s perfect dark brown hair, and he clasped your thighs.

For a moment, you worried about someone hearing your needy whines, but that fear was quickly pushed down by the pleasure Miguel was giving you.

“A-ah, Miguel.” You whimpered out. The grip on your thighs tightened, as did the clasp your fingers held in Miguel’s hair.

“You’re such a good boy.” Miguel mumbled, not bothering to remove his mouth from your tdick. The heat of his breath and the vibration of his voice sent shockwaves nearly as strong as his tongue did.

One of Miguel’s hands moved from your thigh to your wet hole, which had been grinding on nothing since the other man started. You gasped when one, then two, of Miguel’s thick fingers managed their way in. You knew what was coming next but you still weren’t prepared for it.

Miguel curled his fingers and started pumping inside of you while his tongue continued to work its magic against your swollen tdick. Stars swam in your vision, clouded by immense pleasure. You started grinding against Miguel’s tongue and fingers, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Clearly, Miguel knew this too. His motions slowed, the pumping not as forceful and the flicking of his tongue not as fast. You let out a whine, which caused Miguel to chuckle.

“Do you really think I’m gonna let you finish so easily?” Miguel teased before planting a kiss and a soft bite on your inner thigh. He removed his fingers, a wet noise coming when they fully pulled out. He rose to his feet and, with his unused hand, cleared and turned off the consoles on the platform.

Miguel pulled you back closer to him and give you a warm kiss on the lips. You were so desperate with need that even the quick kiss brought you intense pleasure.

“You’re so cute like this, I almost want to just hold you forever.” Miguel smiled and gave you another kiss. You blushed deeply.

Miguel grabbed your ass with one hand and held you closer to him. You placed one of your hands on his waist, the other creeping down to his welcoming folds.

“May I?” You ask, your lips pressed against Miguel’s neck, when your hand reaches his hard tdick.

“Yes please.” Miguel purred. “Good boy.”

Your fingers plunged into his folds, spreading his slick and targeting wherever you figured might feel good. Miguel’s breathing quickened, as did yours, and he let out moans that reverberated throughout your entire body.

Without thinking, you slid two fingers inside Miguel’s hole, just as he’d done to you. The man let out a growl of pleasure, and you started targeting his g-spot. His moans sounded like heaven in your ears.

Miguel’s fingers wrapped themselves in your hair, and he held you in such a way that your face couldn’t escape his neck if you tried.

“Let’s do something more, mi vida.” Miguel whispered.

“Yes please.” You whisper back. Miguel smiled and loosened his grip on you so he could grab something from a nearby drawer.

“Normally, I’d ask what position you’d prefer, but I want to hear your pretty moans again.” Miguel said, punctuating his words with kisses to your neck.

He pulled away from you for a moment, and you saw the strap on and harness in his hands. He got it on quickly- clearly he’d had experience with this before, which made you just the slightest bit jealous- and pushed you against one of the switched off consoles. He lifted your bare legs with ease and placed them over his shoulders.

“Is this okay?” Miguel asked before he positioned the strap on for insertion. You nodded, and Miguel rubbed the rim of your needy hole with one finger to prepare you for when he put the thick strap on.

You gasped when you felt the silicon member push itself deep into your hole. Miguel chuckled and caressed your face gently.

“Are you ready, mi amor?” Miguel asked, and you nodded, desperate for him to start fucking into you.

Immediately, Miguel started thrusting. Loud whines and moans escaped from your lips, and Miguel raised one hand and placed on your chin. His thumb caressed your bottom lip.

“Taking me so well.” Miguel mumbled, his speech slurred by pleasure.

“Thank you, sir.” You whined out. Miguel smiled and kept pounding into you.

Miguel planted kisses all along your jawline and neck, each kiss bringing out another whine. He gripped your waist tight and kept you pinned against the console. Not that you’d try to get out from underneath him if you could.

There was that feeling again, the one of slowly approaching the edge. Miguel smirked and brought one hand to your tdick and started rubbing. The extra pleasure only made your noises even louder.

“Please.” You whimpered.

“Please what?” Miguel said, his hot breath and lips hitting the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Please let me finish.” You begged.

Miguel smiled against your skin and kept rubbing your swollen tdick. His thrusting picked up, harder and faster and you lost control. You let out one last loud moan, and your hole clenched against Miguel’s strap on.

Miguel finished just a moment later, his own tdick having been stimulated by the back end of the strap on. He pulled out and gave you another kiss on the lips.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, shall we?” Miguel said, grabbing your hand as the two of you helped each other back into your clothes.

[clumsy-jiminie]

ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

❝ ʙɪɢ ꜰᴀɴ ❞

↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.

↣ rating :: 18+

↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn

↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!oc ft. taehyung

↣ word count :: 3.8k

↣ chapter warnings :: mature language, public displays of affection

↣ notes :: welcome to the first chapter! 💕 I hope you guys already for the rollercoaster between these two.

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ

if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖

"you see my thick thighs, lost when you look into my brown eyes, see my little waist can make you switch sides. you've never seen the devil in disguise."

- be honest, jorja smith-

ｗｉｎｔｅｒ

A low hum of people chatting over the Lo-Fi beats filled the area. Glasses clinking, some munching, all sounds that Kiara Smith grew familiar with. Though the crowd was more significant than the last exhibition she attended, it was starting to become all the same. 

She could remember the very first exhibit she went to and all the nerves it brought. She was a bumbling mess—sweaty palms constantly being wiped on her dress that she may have also used as her prom dress while her stomach frequently threatened to release her breakfast all over the floor—as she watched the few people who also attended like hawks. So insecure about the words those people chose not to share. So insecure about their lips pressed into taught smiles. Were they being genuine or just keeping up appearances? Was her art worth anything, or was she going to flop and end up having to get a shitty job just to make ends meet? Those same nerves would never fade, holding onto her like some clingy child desperately needing attention. But they became less apparent whenever her boyfriend was around. The heaven-sent angel would always know the right thing to say and make the world melt away. Though he would never miss an event, it was very seldom that he was on time. She never stressed his whereabouts, knowing he'd arrive eventually.

The 24-year-old continued to walk around, partially eavesdropping as she passed couples and groups of people. Occasionally, she would take a sip of the bubbly gold in her glass to appease that child named Nerves tugging on her leg. She slowed to a stop once a particular piece caught her eye. It was two separate canvases placed at equal heights. One canvas had a bright figure colored in hues of pink and blue, while the other was dark. Shades of black and grey bled from one canvas to the other as if it was trying to overcome the figure itself. The darkness had enough space on their canvas, though, at least a third remaining untouched, but it wanted the colors. It wanted to possess them, spread its darkness to them.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" blurted a voice near her. Despite the voice being calm and inviting, it startled her. She quickly turned to the side, not realizing a man joined her. His side profile was magnificent — features that were immaculately sculpted from his eyebrows, down his straight nose bridge leading to a button tip, to where his rose-shaded lips took center stage, frozen in a pout. His light blonde hair with dark roots made his olive skin stand out. It looked natural on him. The man was attractive, and Kiara couldn't deny that. His aura alone was almost as intoxicating as the drink in her hand. It pulled her in and wrapped around her like a warm embrace. She nodded, humming in agreement with his question. She faced ahead again.

The man stole another glance at her, eyes slowly glazing over her features. "It's so rare nowadays to find someone who could capture so much without saying a word. It's almost godly."

The more he talked, the nicer his voice sounded. It had an excellent depth, low and appealing even in his hushed tone. Kiara was into what he was saying, continuing to nod until the last comment. She had to sip her drink to subdue the urge to giggle.

"But you know what you and this painting have in common?"

She turned to look at the man, their eyes meeting for the first time tonight. And boy, how he could get lost in those pools of amber. She raised an eyebrow curiously, her glass still resting on her lips as she silently urged him to continue.

"You both were crafted with the same care, holding a beauty one could only dream of containing."

Kiara almost spat out her drink, startling the man before her. She raised her hand to cover her mouth, holding back the remainder of the liquid behind her taut lips. The man's eyebrows drew together and his lips pursed slightly. His expression then dropped to a neutral state once he realized she was chuckling at what he said.

Once she swallowed the liquid, she turned to face him completely. She took a moment to graze over his appearance fully. He was well dressed, wearing a black blazer, white crew neck underneath, and dark-wash skinny jeans. Silver earrings dangled from his earlobes to match the silver chain around his neck and the wristwatch. 

"Damn," she commented, a grin growing on her full glossed lips, "you're really laying it on thick for someone you don't know." Her voice was nothing he expected. She seemed like one of those Hamptons girls, playing in New York City with daddy's money. Her voice was light and smooth like silk fabric, but her accent was hard like a concrete wall. She was either from Queens or Brooklyn, syllables being dropped or stretched at a whim. Something about the way her words blended was incredibly sexy. 

The man quirked a brow, intrigued as the corner of his lips pulled into a half smile. "You tryna say I'm out of practice?"

"Precisely." She answered quickly and confidently as she gazed up at him. "I expect that kind of line from someone twice your age."

"Well, ouch." He chuckled, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as his eyes glanced downward at the girl. "My job requires me to be blunt, so I call it like I see it."

"And you're saying I'm as beautiful as this painting?"

He grabbed a glass off the tray of a passing waiter. "Your beauty surpasses it." It was true. She was absolutely breathtaking. Her golden honey skin practically glowed under the cool white fluorescent lights. Her hair was dark brown and long, pulled back into a sleek high ponytail with two strands framing her face. Her black satin dress hugged every curve in her body with grace, and there were plenty of them. The material looked soft to the touch, gently reflecting the light. He'd be lying if he said her looks weren't the reason why he approached. And on top of all the looks, she smelled phenomenal—warm and sweet, like a freshly baked sugar cookie with a dash of cinnamon on top, making him want to relive through the holiday season that just passed.

Kiara let out a soft scoff. "Thank you, but that's not as much of a compliment as you may think." She suddenly spun on her stiletto heels, turning her back to the man as she walked away.

He quickly followed, catching up in a few steps to join her by her side. "Do explain."

"Beauty has, and always will be, skin deep." She circled the champagne in her glass while looking out into the crowd. "Looks fade over time. Trends come and go faster than the seasons. So if you really wanna wow a girl…." She stopped at another painting that grabbed her attention before looking at him. "Compliment the things you can't see." The two stopped to gaze at the artwork in front of them. The man thought over her words while admiring the piece. The canvas before them had various hues of green splashed about, but shades of purple peeked through upon closer inspection. It mimicked little flowers blooming through a field of wild grass. She managed to lead him to the only painting that mirrored their conversation.

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "You're completely right. And to think I almost missed out on how intelligent you are."

She smiled, soft and genuine. "Thank you."

The man stayed by her side as Kiara floated, offering his opinions on whichever piece they stopped in front of. She really appreciated being able to receive unbiased feedback on her work. He didn't know he was chatting with the artist. No one in the room knew. The name signed at the bottom of each canvas was Luna, a faceless painter. It's been that way since the beginning, and she intended it to stay that way. Only her close friends, family, and people she hired knew of her secret.

"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to lunch tomorrow." The man asked at their fourth or so painting.

"I see you don't waste any time."

"Correct. Time is limited, after all."

She looked up at him, his perfect lips pulled into a soft smile. Maybe in another lifetime, she thought as she caught her lower lip between her teeth. "Flattered, but I can't."

His brows furrowed. He thought that the conversation they were having was great, so what was with the rejection? "May I ask why?"

"I have a boyfriend," she said with a wide smile.

He suddenly scoffed, causing her to tilt her head to the side slightly. "I haven't seen anyone on your arm the whole night." The first thing the man hated the most was being lied to.

Her brows then lowered while her eyes narrowed. "He's just late."

The second thing was excuses.

"Tsk," he shook his head before downing his drink. "Committed to a man with no time management? Red flag."

"And somehow that's better than a man who can't take rejection?" She shot back as she quickly matched his energy. They had a peaceful conversation only moments before, and now the energy between them had grown negative.

"Oh, I can take rejection," he stated with a chuckle as he put his glass down. "But only when I'm being told the truth."

"It is—"

"Hey, darling." And finally, the deep and butter-smooth voice appeared, melting away the anger that was bubbling inside Kiara. As he approached her side, he placed his large hand on the small of her back and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm sorry I'm late."

The blonde in front of them eyed the man from his tan skin and wavy ebony hair to his solid-colored turtle neck and long coat. Something about the dark-haired man seemed familiar to the blonde. Then it hit him like a freight train. "Well, isn't it Mr. Kim Taehyung?" He smiled widely, glancing up at the slightly taller man.

Taehyung's brows furrowed momentarily before grinning. "Holy shit, Park Jimin!" He stepped forward, leaving Kiara's side to wrap his arms around the blonde. "What are you doing here?" He asked as he pulled away from the man. "I never would've thought that you'd be into art."

He chuckled softly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "It's just a little appreciation I picked up from Spain." He shrugged casually.

Taehyung's jaw clenched briefly, his smile slipping for a moment. For as long as he's known Jimin, he always had to slip in a way to brag about his accomplishments. It was sad that he still hasn't grown out of that trait yet. "Ah yeah," he responded, playing cool, "I forgot you traveled there. How was it?"

Jimin shrugged again. "It was Spain," he said, glazing over the topic. "But me and—shit, I'm sorry." His attention shifted from Taehyung to the woman. "I never asked for your name."

"I'm Kiara," she said softly. Her arms folded over her chest as she watched the two men converse. She didn't mind a bit since Taehyung was the most extroverted of the two.

"Kiara," Jimin repeated to himself, his eyes trailing down her appearance briefly. He tried to pin the name to the face, especially if she was Taehyung's. His eyes finally returned to the other man. "Kiara and I were discussing some of the pieces earlier. I've been a huge fan of Luna for years now." He tried to be calm about the subject of Luna, but it made excitement course through his veins. He was among the first few to learn about the mysterious artist who abruptly appeared on the scene. Everyone wanted one of their pieces overnight, and Jimin was obviously at the very top of that list. Every brushstroke left was a paragraph, speaking a language only artists could understand. 

"I don't even wanna talk about how hard it was to get in here," he chuckled, a faint flush spreading over his cheeks. A Luna Eclipse had a longer wait list than some Michelin-star restaurants. Luckily for him, he was able to pull a few strings. A few phone calls here, some embarrassing promises there, and he was in.

Kiara couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips as she eyed the man. The smirk on Taehyung's lips was full of pride, almost conceited, as he tilted his head slightly to the side. "Oh, you don't say?" For once in the pair's life, it felt like Taehyung had a one-up on Jimin. "How does it feel to—"

"My love," Kiara interjected, voice just as sweet, yet bitter, like honey as she placed her hand on Taehyung's chest. She looked up at him, and Jimin could see her pupils dilated, swirling with love. He chewed on his lower lip gently. He barely knew this woman, but why did he want her to look at him like that? "I have to talk to you about something."

Taehyung stared at his partner with furrowed brows before looking at Jimin. "Um, alright. I'll catch up with you later then."

She looked at Jimin, and that love dissipated instantly. Such a look was only reserved for Taehyung, making a heaviness grow in his abdomen. "If you would excuse us."

The blonde couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from Kiara. "Of course," he finally said, grinning at the man. "Don't be a stranger!"

The two waved at each other before Kiara led him away. Her arm wrapped around his, holding him close to her. She glanced back at Jimin one last time before pulling Taehyung to a quiet section of the event. He leaned against the pillar while Kiara stood before him, gazing up at him.

"Why did you cut me off?" Taehyung asked, keeping his voice calm.

"Because you almost name-dropped me," she said, her arms folding over her chest. 

The 26-year-old's lips turned into a small o shape before forming a sheepish smile. "You're right. I'm sorry. I completely forgot for a second. It's just so hard not to brag about you when you always look so good." He reached out and touched her waist, pulling her into him.

She couldn't stop her lips from forming a smile as he buried his face into her neck. She giggled quietly, her hands placed on his chest. "Stop it," she whined, not wanting him to do such a thing.

Taehyung inhaled deeply, the notes of her sweet perfume entering his nostrils. "Mm, and you're wearing my favorite perfume too?" He mumbled against her skin, placing gentle kisses randomly. "You just wanted me to be on you."

The girl laughed before gasping when she felt his large hand fully palm her ass. She pulled away from him just enough to slap him in the chest playfully. "We're in public!"

His eyes locked with hers, with a smirk playing on his lips. "So?" He questioned as he pulled her close again, resuming to litter her neck with kisses. "No one's looking anyway. They're too distracted by your beautiful art." 

He continued until he reached her favorite spot, a moan parting from her smiling lips. His hands couldn't get enough of her, feeling her up as if it was the first time. Kiara's eyes fluttered shut, biting back moans that wanted to escape her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Taehyung," she whined again, partially out of want. It started to feel so good that the world began to melt away. "Someone will see."

Someone cleared their throat. "That's true."

Kiara's eyes shot open, quickly pushing the man in the midst of giving her a hickey off of her. He groaned as his back hit the pillar wall while she turned around. Her cheeks flushed with heat, embarrassment promptly replacing the arousal. She saw familiar ice-blue eyes playfully glaring at her. The petite woman pushed her long, ginger hair off her shoulders as she cocked an eyebrow at the two—disapproval flooding her features.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Hello, Aimee," he said, greeting the woman for both of them.

Aimee huffed, glancing at the man. "Taehyung."

He stood up from the wall, kissing Kiara's temple. "Lemme get us something to drink." He shot one last glare to Aimee before walking off.

Aimee shook her head. "I don't know how you put up with him and all the PDA." She grumbled, her heavy New Jersey accent ringing through Kiara's ears while she glared a hole into the back of Taehyung's head.

Kiara straightened out the smooth material of her dress. "You get used to it," she smiled softly to herself. "Plus, I kinda like it."

"Ugh," Aimee rolled her eyes as she folded her arms over her chest. "Seems like he'd fuck ya right there with an audience." The girl pointed her index finger to her open mouth, making a gagging sound while Kiara laughed.

"You're so dramatic," Kiara smiled while shaking her head. "But what's up? Is everything going OK?" Aimee was at every event Kiara held. She was her art dealer, providing guests with the information needed to purchase a piece. She would only come up to the artist if something were awry.

"Oh! Everything is fucking fantastic, honestly." Her eyes lit up with excitement as she bounced on the balls of her heels. "I think this might be your best collection yet."

Kiara sighed in relief, placing her hand on her chest as it fell. "Thank you. If we can get everything sold tonight, I'll be set." Aimee looked at the girl, her brows furrowing momentarily before releasing. "Taehyung and I have been looking for a bigger place."

Aimee's lips turned down into a slight frown. "A bigger house? Has he even talked about getting a ring yet?"

Kiara's shoulders dropped, her hand pinching and rubbing at her fingers. She sounded just like her best friends and every other friend in Kiara's life. "I know," she sighed. She glanced down at her left hand, where her ring finger was aching to be adorned with something. "It's so backward, but a one-bedroom isn't enough. He needs an office space for work. So, I'm hoping the ring will come soon after once we settle into a new place."

She looked at the girl, a sad smile replacing her frown. "Well, it's only been four years, right?"

Only. That word ran circles in Kiara's head. 

It's only been for years. 

You've only just moved in with each other. 

You've only just started dating.

The word was growing tiresome, especially in the conversations about Taehyung. Everyone had an opinion about her and her relationship, but no one dared to say anything straightforward about it. She was sick of only.

Kiara nodded slowly, which only caused Aimee to sigh. "He'll come around, doll, don't stress it." She assured with a soft smile, gently patting the woman's shoulder. "Lemme get back to my job so you can get that house." After Kiara gave Aimee a small smile, she walked off. She almost bumped into Taehyung on the way out, the two quietly cursing at each other before continuing their path.

He returned to Kiara with a smile, handing her a glass of champagne. "All good news?"

She grinned at the man, feeling warm despite not sipping her drink yet. "Amazing news."

As the night continued, the two walked around together. They always had a hand on each other somehow, whether it was Taehyung's on the small of her back or Kiara's hand being swallowed by his. She adored this. It made her feel safe—feel wanted. He had to let everyone know she was off the market and was his. As if a shiny diamond ring resting upon her left finger wouldn't have done the same. Taehyung struck up conversations with random people, small-talking them like the extrovert he was. During each conversation, she would glance around, finding something to fill her attention while they spoke of things that didn't matter. Every time, her gaze would meet the blonde.

Their eyes lingered for longer than what was appropriate. Why was he looking at me? She thought while she fidgeted with her fingers. Or was he staring at Taehyung?

"Love," she said as she turned her gaze to Taehyung. He has just finished up a conversation with an elderly couple. "How long have you known Jimin?"

"We grew up together, and were best friends."

The girl's eyes went wide. Despite four years together, Taehyung rarely talked about anything before his college years. It was optional to dwell on past things, even though Kiara would've loved to know everything, from how he scraped his knees while learning to ride a bike to his first love.

"We even went to college together, out here," he continued. "But our crowds were completely different. He got along with the nepo babies since he basically is one, and I got along with the art kids. I remember us bumping heads quite a bit." He let out an amused chuckle.

"Oh," she frowned slightly.

"Like he didn't have to brag about going to Spain," he blurted out. "Not all of us can drop our responsibilities and take off on vacation for a year."

"A year?!" She repeated as her jaw dropped.

"Mhm, basically had his parents pay for the whole trip." There was a fire behind his words. He's been tight-lipped about his friendship with Jimin, and finally, it felt amazing to let it out. "I'm surprised he's not rotting from the inside out."

Kiara pouted a bit, never hearing Taehyung speak so harshly about another. "Well, maybe it was a birthday gift?" The blonde couldn't be that bad, even if she got a taste of that quick-witted mouth earlier. He could've just been having a bad day after all.

"He left in March, babe, and his birthday is in October."

Her mouth formed a small o before she chewed on her lower lip gently. "So you're not gonna catch up with him?"

He looked ahead before glancing down at the girl. "I am," he said with a shrug, "I would rather hang out with a nepo baby than my coworkers." Kiara let out a half-hearted snicker as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "It would be a good opportunity to get out of the house since someone says I need to make friends."

"You do!" She looked at him, brows furrowed and nose slightly scrunched. "I feel bad leaving you home every girls' night. I want to know you're having fun and not rewatching the same three movies."

"They're good movies!" He argued with a smile as the girl shot him a glare. "But I hear you," she stretched out the last syllable as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "So I will try for you, OK?"

The girl smiled, leaning up to touch their lips together briefly. "Thank you." She hoped they could work past their differences and become friends. She knew the man wanted to go out and experience things, but he longed for a set group to do that with. Sometimes, rekindling a relationship was more manageable than starting a new one.

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[britishassistant]

Soul Searching (Is Harder If You Have Different Maps)

Leona (dream sharing) - Yuu (first words)

It’s been on your wrist for as long as you can remember.

A short paragraph in neat, flowing handwriting, forming one of the oddest sentences you’ve ever read.

Your half-siblings gave you no end of grief about it once the Words Resolved, at least one of them leaking it whenever you moved up a year in school so everybody always knew.

Your father ordered you to keep it covered at all times, then ignored it and you from then on. Just another way you were a stain on the family name.

One of the good things about leaving was at least it became your own.

You buy a new cover, the nicest you can afford with your meager funds. Not because you’re ashamed of it, but because for the first time in your life you could control who knew about it. It was yours, no one else’s.

Still. You really can’t imagine what sort of first encounter you’ll have with your soulmate that results in what’s on your wrist.

Maybe they have a pet? A dog or a cat?

Conversely, even though your meeting requires you to (you hope not seriously) potentially hurt an animal, you find yourself becoming hyper-aware of them. Always keeping a healthy distance between them and yourself.

It helps when you wake up in a coffin after dreaming about (maybe living through?) your gruesome death via monster to a talking, fire-breathing tanuki trying to steal your clothes.

You don’t think stepping on it would improve your situation any.

You’re distracted, is the thing.

You’ve somehow been transported to another world, forced to live in a should-be-condemned building, made a groundskeeper, watched as Grim the monster-tanuki burnt a statue and broke a chandelier with the help of a cocky feckless asshole and a dumbass wannabe honor student, had your ribs broken by a nightmarish ink-like monster that you still can’t find any information on, defeated that monster by somehow getting Grim, the feckless asshole and dumbass honor student to cooperate with your improvised plan, made a two-in-one student and a prefect, hosted Ace in your ramshackle dorm when he pissed off his dorm leader, had a weird dream about a queen and some cards you barely remember, tried to get Grim to attend classes, somehow got shanghai’d into making a mont blanc to appease the same dorm leader who Ace somehow belatedly realized was his soulmate, and—!

Look, it’s been a long two days, alright?

So maybe, when Grim dashes off the path to go steal some random fruit you’ve never seen before, you’re more concerned with catching him than watching where you’re going.

With your luck, Grim’ll end up rolling around in poison ivy. The magical equivalent of poison ivy. Which he’ll transfer to you first thing, but he won’t be affected by because he’s got fur.

You stumble as something… round and thin disrupts your footing by being inconveniently beneath your sole.

“Ow!”

Maybe it was a hose? A greenhouse this big has got to have some sort of sprinkler system, after all. Hopefully you haven’t bent it or anything.

Also since when was Grim’s voice that deep?

“Oi. You’ve got some nerve, stepping on someone’s tail without saying anything.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, come on.

At least he’s good looking, the treacherous part of your brain whispers as a boy so tall and broad he can only really be called a man stands and pins you in place with a glare. With all the ways this could’ve turned out, you really got lucky with this one, didn’t you?

The rest of you mentally screams at it to shut up, because holy shit, this guy has animal ears and a tail and there is no way in hell you could’ve predicted this in a million years.

“Fnah? Are you the custodian here?” Because naturally, Grim would decide now’s the best time to abandon his quest for food. “You look like a rude guy, y’know?”

The guy who said the words on your wrist (your soulmate, your soulmate, he’s your soulmate!) curls his lip. “I may have been in the middle of a shitty nap, but you went and walked on my tail. I can’t just let you get away with that.”

You’re the one who left your tail lying where anyone can step on it…is what you want to say, but for some reason the words won’t come out your mouth.

He tilts his head. “You…aren’t you that herbivore the mirror said can’t use magic? Hmm…”

He seizes your tie and the front of your shirt in a fist, and you discover that being lifted by your clothes? Is something that can and does happen in the reality you now inhabit. You’re hauled up until you’re dangling just below your soulmate’s eye level, getting an unwitting closeup of his collarbone and down his shirt.

You try and will yourself to stop staring.

He leans forwards and his nose twitches as he inhales repeatedly. Is he…is he smelling you?!

“I-I bathe daily!” You splutter out.

You immediately want to find a wall and slam your head into it. The first words you say to your soulmate, what he’ll have been judging your character by right up until this moment, and this is what you come up with? “I bathe daily”? No wonder your soulmate’s wearing gloves.

Your father was right to disown you.

“Ha. I really can’t smell a spark of magic on you.” Your soulmate drawls, one of his ears flickering. “I don’t really feel like taking on an opponent that can’t resist…but it’s not like I, Leona-sama can let you just walk away after stepping on my tail, right?”

You have a sinking feeling in your stomach. “Wh-mmfph?!”

It’s hard to finish your sentence around the hand that this guy has just shoved into your mouth.

“Now,” You can feel his glove-clad fingers poking and prodding at one of your canines with intent. “I was having a shitty dream, and got woken up so rudely that it’s pissed me off. I think a tooth is a fair trade for that, right?”

Oh fuck no.

You think you can hear Grim babbling about running away somewhere around this guy’s ankles, while your legs windmill uselessly in midair.

The hand that’s not trying to fruitlessly pull at his wrist scrabbles for sharpened pencil in your pants pocket. You rip it out and brandish it as menacingly as you can.

“Hoh?” He still looks amused, damn him. “And what are you planning on doing with that, herbivore?”

“Ay’ll ta’e y’r othe’ eye ‘f y’dun ge’ y’r ‘and ou’ a ma mouf!” You threaten with as much bravado as you can muster.

Judging by the way his grin widens, it’s much less effective than you were hoping it would be.

He opens his mouth—

“Leona-san!”

And just like that, it’s like someone’s flicked off a light switch. His eyes go flat, his ears droop, his mouth thins into an annoyed scowl.

He also drops you.

You land hard on your tailbone on the stone path, coughing and gagging from the sudden removal of his entire hand from your mouth.

“Minion!” Grim pounces on your stomach, which does not help with how winded you are. “Are you okay? Did he take all yer teeth?”

You shake your head, trying to wordlessly convey that you’re mostly unharmed.

“Leona-San, there you are.” Another boy with ears and a tail and dyed blond hair comes strolling up the path. “I’ve been sent to get you for your remedi—ah? Don’t tell me you’ve traumatized another firstie again already.”

Again?

“Already?!” Grim squeaks.

The guy who is apparently the other half of your soul turns his head to shoot you a dangerous smirk.

You scoop up Grim and run for your life.

You’re panting by the time you reach the outside of the greenhouse where Ace and Deuce are waiting.

“Ah, Prefect, Grim, we found some…hey, what happened to you?” Deuce asks, taking in the sight of you, bent almost double as you try to get your breath back.

“Th-there was a really rude custodian sleeping in there!” Grim bursts out. “He was super scary!”

“Custodian?” Ace tilts his head. “What are you talking about?”

“I just met my soulmate.” You sing-song quietly.

“Wha-seriously?!” Ace’s face begins quirking in an astonished grin. “Both of us in the same day! Damn, what are those odds?”

“Congratulations, Prefect!” Deuce says, clapping you on the shoulder. “Who is he? What’s he like?”

“He was going to rip my teeth out.” You say brightly, unable to get the sing-song out of your voice.

There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“Hah?” Ace says blankly. “Wait, seriously?! This isn’t some kinda joke?! And I thought what the dorm head did to me was bad.”

“Maybe it’ll get better?” Deuce, the kind, naive sap, suggests.

It does not get better.

Turns out that the weird dreams about the Queen and the cards and the little girl? Get followed up by Dorm Head Rosehearts overblotting and becoming the same kind of monster that broke your ribs.

You leave that encounter with a torn ligament in your ankle, and another dream of that monster murdering you brutally.

(Except this time, Ace, Deuce, and Trey are trying to fight it and dying to it alongside you, and before its teeth close around your head, you glimpse that the beast’s front paws are actually a grasping, disturbing pair of hands…

You wake in a cold sweat, body shaking and fingers numb around charcoal you don’t remember buying as you try to sketch out the monstrosity, as if confining it to paper will lessen its threat.)

Despite your terror, life goes on. You’re lulled into a routine of going to class, corralling Grim, trying not to die when bits of your Dorm collapse suddenly, making repairs, dealing with your ghostly roommates, hanging out with Ace and Deuce, and doing homework when you find the time.

And then your soulmate decides the best way to prepare for a sports tournament is by maiming the competition.

Your bad feeling from the dreams returning, this time with a Lion rather than a Queen, is only intensified when the headmaster threatens you and bribes Grim into investigating the “accidents”.

Even if he says “The Prefect is so diligent at note-taking I’m sure it’ll be a cinch~” isn’t pushing this kind of thing onto you really way too carefree for an adult?!

The only good thing about this investigation is you, Grim, Deuce, and Cater-senpai get a front seat to Ace’s corny flirtations at Riddle-senpai, and Riddle-senpai’s flustered reactions to him. It’s nice to see they’re getting along well.

It becomes readily apparent from your interviews that the only dorm to be entirely unaffected is Savannaclaw. Even if there are strong players from other dorms who haven’t been injured, they’re usually the type whose…personality quirks have provided them with a defense against the fates that befell their weaker dorm-mates.

Savannaclaw is the only one with all players in fighting form. That, combined with Jack Howl’s certainty that he won’t have an accident when rebuffing Grim’s offer of protection…

Of course, this is when three upperclassmen decide that it’s time to circle you, Ace, Deuce and Cater. Their threats are almost laughably cliche, but when they’ve got the muscle to back it up…

“What’s all this yapping for? Annoying.”

All the muscles in your back lock up.

“Dorm Head Kingscholar!” One of the upperclassmen barks as the jerk who might match your soul strides towards your group followed by the dyed blond guy who took Grim’s sandwich.

Well, at least that gives you a complete name to put to the face. Not that you wanted one.

He looks…? He’s slouching like he hasn’t a care in the world, like he’s the one with all the power here but it’s. Off, somehow. Not quite the casual ease he had when messing with you in the Botanical Gardens, no matter how hard he’s trying to seem otherwise.

“Aren’t you the herbivore who stepped on my tail?” Dorm Head Leona Kingscholar asks rhetorically, prompting his riled up dorm mates to turn towards you, teeth bared.

Your jaw clenches. “And you’re the creep with the tooth fetish. How’ve your naps been lately? I hope karma isn’t making your nightmares too unbearable.”

That gets his eyes narrowing at you, a growl rumbling from his chest and dumb tail swishing as his groupies’ snarls ratchet up a notch.

You can’t say you aren’t grateful for the way Ace and Deuce step in front of you, Grim hissing from the safety of your shoulders, like they could actually do anything if your soulmate decided to assault you again.

The impromptu game of Magift that he challenges the investigation team to certainly feels like one, a beat down dressed up in the guise of a “friendly match” with how often your boys are getting body checked out of the way and the sparks of white hot magic coming from the disk that even have you ducking for cover. There’s no way that this can be safe. It’s as if they’re hoping to take all of you out of commission if they injure you badly enough here.

It takes Jack Howl intervening for you all to have the pretext to escape without any major injuries. You should be following Cater’s speedy retreat, it would be the smart move…

But something stops you in your tracks, leaves you gnawing at your thumbnail as you watch the Dorm Head of Savannaclaw.

All this—the dreams, the plotting for control over something that’s usually left to chance, the weary dorm head you suspect is behind it all, it’s pricking at your brain, drawing comparisons between what happened a few weeks ago with Riddle-senpai. Which is ridiculous, Crowley told you that Overblot is rare and that Riddle’s case was the first time there’s been a major outbreak in decades, but—

Well. You didn’t survive the last 15 years by having the luxury to write connections like this off as mere coincidence.

Which leads to your next quandary: do you attempt to say something? Leona Kingscholar may be a bastard, but you are still his soulmate, even if he doesn’t act like it. The idea of him ending up as one of those monsters that Riddle-senpai became…it makes your fingers go cold and bile rise in your throat. But how—?

He catches your eye.

“See something you like, herbivore?”

You can feel your expression fall flat. “Hardly. A fool on an errand is never an impressive sight. Except, perhaps, for seeing how deep he can dig himself.”

“Hn. I feel like I could say the same whenever I see you.” Kingscholar-senpai retorts, the same damn amusement on his face again as he saunters over to you. Like he’s enjoying himself.

You have to take a breath to keep from gritting your teeth, letting him see how much he’s riling you up, even as he starts reaching towards your face. “Listen. If I could offer some advice? I would tread carefully, if I were you. The path you’re going down with all this, this, you may not like where you end up. If you do, more power to you, but…I wouldn’t want to see you biting off more than you can chew.”

“Even if I knew what you were talking about herbivore,” His grin curls wider when he pinches you chin between his fingers. “Which I don’t, what makes you think that someone like you has any right to tell me what to do? Even among lions there are limits to arrogance, you know.”

You can feel blood rush to your cheeks are indignation flares hot in your gut. Why this little—!

You pull your face out of his hand and turn sharply on your heel, striding off after your friends as his laughter echoes in your ears.

Fine. Fine! It seems that you’re going to have to take Ace’s approach to the problem. Try and put a stop to whatever mayhem Leona Kingscholar is causing before he can reach overblot status. Your soulmate, your responsibility.

You’re just hoping you’ll be slightly more successful this time than you all were with Riddle.

So you end up in the infirmary again.

Jumping off of a set of collapsing bleachers while your soulmate’s Unique Magic eats a hole into your side during his overblot doesn’t make you a better Magift player, surprisingly.

Though you were mostly sitting on the sidelines and shouting directions to Grim, Ace and Deuce until the disk came flying at the back of your head.

At least you’re not alone here though.

In the bed next to yours is Kingscholar-senpai, with Buchie-senpai in the one on his other side.

Your thoughts are still fixed on what Kingscholar-senpai was saying before his overblot, his anger at his powerlessness and his despair at being unable to change anything due to something as immutable as birth.

You’re wondering whether it would be good to talk to him about it once everyone else has left, to tell him a bit about yourself and where you come from, just enough to let him know you understand, even if you don’t condone sabotaging sports tournaments or overblots. Except no, Buchie-senpai will still be here too, the last thing he wants to be subject to is the pair of soulmates who are responsible for his injuries getting mushy when he can’t escape. Maybe this kind of conversation is a bit too heavy to have while you’re both still trying to heal, so perhaps it would be better to ask him to meet you alone once you’re both out of the infirmary?

And then a tiny, excitable angel of a child scurries into the room, looking for Leona-oji-tan, and your soulmate’s hands come up to stabilize the boy when he clambers onto his stomach.

His gloves are off.

There are a limited number of areas where your soulmate’s words can appear, and all of them are localized to the arms, hands, and neck. The lowest anyone has ever had words appear outside of these areas was over the breastbone, and the studies you’ve read showed that this was purely because the poor girl’s soulmate was giving an extremely long and impassioned speech on women’s right to suffrage that took up her neck and both of her arms besides.

Leo—Kingscholar’s overblot form didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination, and it makes sense, given that he hadn’t shown any reaction to your first words to him, but with the inky blot over his hands, you had thought, you had hoped—!

Your words aren’t there. At all.

It’s unrequited.

Of course it is. Of course.

It’s you, after all.

You spend a few days moping once you get out of the infirmary.

It’s not helped by the fact that the dream of the monster that kills you is back with a vengeance, tearing apart Riddle, Cater, and Buchie-senpai before shaking out its leonine fur as it prepares to pounce—!

(You hate how the drawing is getting more detailed.)

And that’s not even mentioning the other dream where you heard knocking from the inside of your mirror…

Between the stresses of the dreams, exhaustion from the crutches you need while the injury on your thigh and hip heals, and the new revelation about your soul’s other half…well, is it any surprise you don’t feel as energetic as before? You’re dealing with enough as it is. Between school and navigating your broken down excuse of a dorm, it’s a wonder you can get out of bed in the morning, much less socialize.

Kingscholar-san sends Jack bearing a brand new uniform to Ramshackle, only one size too big. It takes everything you have to smile and thank him without the annoying waver your voice has taken on lately.

It only ends when you look up one morning to see Grim nudge his tuna can back towards you, a worried frown on his furry little face.

“I dun’ need it.” He insists. “You eat, minion. You need ta build up yer strength and fill yer tummy, you’ve been all droopy and sad and not eatin’! What kinda great magician would I be if I couldn’t look after one a’ my minions? So be grateful, fgnah!”

You try and tell him that you’re fine, you’ve got your rice and egg, but he refuses to budge until you’ve choked down a little under half of the can.

You’re not sure whether it was the shock of greedy, selfish Grim insisting you take his food or how unpleasant eating the oily, unseasoned cat-food-level tuna was, but after you clean your teeth you give yourself a long, hard look in the mirror.

You…well, let’s be honest.

You look like shit. Tired and in pain, yes, but more than that you look like you did when you were floundering on your own for the first time at 14. Alone and directionless and reeling from loss.

You look like you’ve given up.

That more than anything else, makes you scoff in disgust. Really? Of all the things you’ve lived through, all the letdowns you’ve experienced, this is what beats you? A guy? One you don’t even know very well, and is under no obligations towards you besides? Are you seriously making yourself miserable over the hope of a possibility that’s been crushed?

As if.

You didn’t let your middle school graduation break you. You didn’t let your disownment break you. You are not going to lose yourself over an unrequited soulmate.

You’re trying to get back to your world, after all. And sure, you may be leaving a piece of your soul here, and it will hurt, but you’ll live. You’ll move on. You’ll survive.

You slap your cheeks twice.

At lunch, you announce, “I’m going to need some help carrying paint and wood back to my dorm after classes today.”

Ace and Deuce stare at you as you continue, “It’s seriously a pain to try and guess where I can put my crutches that won’t send them through the floors again. Even the ghosts are getting tired of all the holes. Plus, it’s just, really filthy, you know? If it’s going to take the headmaster this long to send me back, I’d rather live somewhere that isn’t going to fall down on me and Grim in our sleep or give us tetanus.”

You feel your smile begin to falter slightly as the silence continues.

“Freaking finally, fgnah!” Grim cheers through a mouthful of your curry. “It’s about time Ramshackle got an upgrade to reflect the majesty of the Great Genius Grim!”

“O-of course, Prefect!” Deuce, angel that he is, puffs out his chest. “I’d be glad to help out!”

“I’m not carrying jack shit.” Ace says, little shit that he is. “But try asking Jack or Riddle or Trey-senpai with that face—it’s so pathetic they’ll probably do anything you ask.”

You kick him in the shins, out of principle.

And then it turns out that Ace, Deuce, and Grim have all gone and sold their souls to the dorm head of Octavinelle in exchange for academic success.

Because, lest you forget, your closest friends and associates are absolute morons.

At least they had the decency to wait until you’d been off the crutches for two weeks and finals were done before springing this onto you.

(You should have known when you woke on the last day of exams to dreams of mermaids and shipwrecks, but you were so busy trying to track down who this figure could possibly be, trying to uncover something, anything more about overblot in the texts that are overdue for the library to update your wall that—!

But that’s hardly an excuse. You should have known.)

Crowley once again commands you to investigate the Octavinelle Dorm Head, with the understanding that your meager allowance for food will be jeopardized if not.

Azul Ashengrotto, as you and Jack discover while following him around, is for all appearances a model student, if a bit of a kiss-up. He is careful to never do anything untoward where the public can see.

Azul Ashengrotto is a boy with what romantics call “a threefold soul”. The one in his body is partnered with the two inside the twins, who only leave his side to slink up to you with promises of deals that will solve all of your problems.

Azul Ashengrotto will only consent to freeing all the students if you sign a contract with him. Three days to steal a photograph from a museum in the Coral Sea, or you join Grim, Ace and Deuce in servitude.

It’s not the first time you’ve signed a contract with every fiber of your being screaming “NO”, but hopefully this will be the last.

And, just to add insult to injury, what Azul Ashengrotto wants as collateral more than anything else? Is your dorm that you and your friends spent the past months making downright hospitable as a way to distract from your soulmate issues.

You think you’re meant to be grateful that those twins let you grab what few changes of clothes you could before throwing you and Grim out.

You are grateful to Jack for offering you a room in Savannaclaw so you don’t need to squeeze into a bed with Ace and Deuce in a four student room, even if that means you’ll definitely come into contact with the person you’ve been avoiding since his overblot.

This gratitude lasts for about as long as it takes Kingscholar-san to open his mouth.

“They can’t stay here.” He grumbles, looking almost as weary as before his overblot. “The empty rooms have been dumping grounds for stuff from the other students—even if they’re used to living in that decrepit wreck, trying to sleep in one of those rooms would be impossible.”

“Hey! Don’t insult our dorm!” Grim protests, hackles raised. “It’s really, really nice now, fgnah!”

“I don’t care.” Kingscholar-san replies.

“Senpai.” Jack groans.

“Ah, I’ve got it.” Buchie-senpai says with a grin you’re really learning to dislike. “We’ll put them in Leona’s room.”

“Do you want me to sew your mouth shut?!” Kingscholar-san growls as you loudly proclaim, “HELL NO.”

“Eh? But Prefect, Leona’s digs would be waaay comfier than any old dusty room.” Buchie-senpai wheedles. “Plus Leona-san is used to having servants sleep in his room as a prince, so this’ll be just like home, right? Plus this way the Prefect and Grim can earn their keep by helping look after him. It’s a win-win!”

There’s a weird interest in Kingscholar-san’s eyes that sends a shiver down your spine (no, stop, stop that, it’s unrequited, he’s not, he doesn’t), before his growl increases in volume. “Ruggie, you—!”

“Right, thanks for the offer Jack but we’re just going to share with Ace or Deuce in Heartslaybul, so…” Back up slowly, very slowly, eyes on them, don’t run.

“Oi.”

You don’t entirely mean to freeze in place at the sound, but your pesky survival instincts have other plans.

Kingscholar-san attempts to cover his scowl with a nonchalant expression. “Well, if you’re truly intent on running away with your tails between your legs, I can’t stop you. After all, only the strong are welcome in Savannaclaw, even if it’s only for three days. But if you’re really sure…oi, you lot! Get out here!”

From the depths of the dorm, three upperclassmen come trooping out. The same three, you note to your displeasure, who tried to waylay the Investigation Team last time.

“Ah! It’s the prey that got away last time! It came back all on its own!” The biggest one crows.

“If you want to stay, you’ll need to prove yourself. Otherwise these three will have the pleasure of escorting you to Heartslaybul.” Kingscholar’s smug look really shouldn’t set your blood ablaze by now. “After all, such delicate, weak herbivores who got taken advantage of need to be looked after so they don’t get gobbled up late at night, right?”

“Who’re you callin’ weak?!” Grim hisses, back arched.

“Aw, does the kitty cat have claws?” The one with floppy ears simpers. “Better have me carry ‘im for you, little prince, otherwise you’ll get aaaall scratched up!”

The three of them cackle like this is the funniest thing they’ve heard all day.

You feel your lip curl.

Fine. Fine! These brats want a piece of you so bad? You’ll show them precisely why the headmaster appointed you “Beast Tamer”.

Grim gave up his fire magic to Azul, so the only real magical support you’ll have against these guys is Jack. But from what you remember from Magift, these upperclassmen are only really good at coordinating when Kingscholar-san is keeping them in line. When they’re on their own…

“Jack, think you can distract the big one until I’m ready?” You ask. “Grim, give the one with the smallest ears the runaround. Pretend he’s Ace and you stole his lunch again.”

“Can do, Prefect.” Jack growls, while the upperclassman with small ears claps a hand over them and yells, “SHUT UP!! THEY AIN'T SMALL, YA BASTARD!!”

“Nah, they’re tiny!!” Grim cackles, darting away like a tiny streak of grey wind, prompting the guy you’ve given a complex to roar and give chase. The biggest one is having similar problems hitting the equally quick Jack, which leaves you in careful position to deal with…

“I’ll make you eat those words!!” The third upperclassman vows as he aims for you with his magic pen.

The last one has the floppy ears of a prey animal rather than a predator. At a guess you’d say some kind of impala or oxen, something with horns. Which means that unlike the other two, who probably rely on their ancestor’s habits of intimidation and claws to inform how they fight, this one is much more used to—

“HIIIYAAAH—!” Charging at threats headfirst.

You skip to the side to avoid the spell he slings at you and hook out your foot to snag one of his.

“Hah!” The punk leaps over your leg. “You gotta try haaaraaaauuowhOAAAAAGH!!”

There’s a large splash as he drops into the pool of water behind you.

You make a show of peering down. “Oh my. Is that much blood normal?”

“GOTAMA!!” The biggest upperclassman shoves past Jack with ease while the one with small ears gives up on chasing Grim, the pair of them rushing to the water’s edge in an attempt to see if their buddy is alright. It’s almost sweet.

Though you’d think with their more sensitive senses, these beastmen would recognize a lie when they hear one.

You catch Grim’s eye and draw an english “m” with your finger. He beams.

All it takes from him is a running leap at the nearest punk to sending him sprawling into the pool on top of his buddy with a scream. Grim spring-boards off of the last one to complete the set and lands safely in your outstretched arms.

You cuddle him to you as he cheers. “Yeah!! Take that, fgnah!”

Jack huffs, looking disapproving even as his tail swishes from side to side. “That was sneaky, Prefect.”

You give him a cheeky “v” with your fingers and a grin, “Well, underhanded tactics are still strength, after all. Right, Kingscholar-san?”

“Don’t go putting words in my mouth, herbivore.” He says that, but his eyes are raking over you, as if seeing you in a new light. As if you’ve impressed him, somehow.

Bad for your heart, that.

It’s possible you may have gotten caught up in their pace and forgotten what this grudge match was for.

“You’re gonna fry in that.” Comes the unwelcome commentary from Kingscholar-san’s bed. “It gets colder at night, but not that cold.”

You clutch at your discount Night Raven College hoodie. Sure it’s big and bulky, but. “Then I’ll deal with it. It’s comfy.”

He rolls over, away from the futon where you and Grim are bunking. You think you hear a mutter of “annoying”.

Grim sticks out his tongue. You do too.

“I heard that.”

You’d almost hoped that being away from Ramshackle would mean the dreams don’t come again.

And for one night, you’re proven right.

It’s the second night, after you’ve gone to bed with advice churning in your brain about destroying the contracts rather than attempting to complete the task Azul had set you, that’s the when they come for you.

You blink awake in the quiet dark of the room, a thin layer of sweat clinging to you.

“Another deal…?” You mutter sleepily to yourself, scrunching your eyes shut. “Guess even mermaids don’t know any better than dealing with octopi…”

There’s a sudden rustle of fabric.

You open your eyes to find Kingscholar-san about half an inch away from your face.

“Are you dreaming about weird twisted versions of the Great Seven?” He demands.

Your mouth goes dry.

“TOO CLOSE!”

He lets you shove his face away until you can sit up before grabbing your wrist and yanking it off.

“Answer the question.” He snarls, grip tightening until the leather of your cover begins to creak under your hoodie.

“I—what?!” You try and parse his nonsensical demands. “No, I just—that was one of the weird dreams I’ve been getting. There was a small fish mermaid, and eels, and this octopus lady who had a contract she was making the little mermaid sign to…I don’t know, go on land, I think? But it’s only recently it’s been mermaids, before that it was lions and then it was queens and cards, and…what’s that look?”

He’s staring intently at you, ears forward and pupils so much larger than they are in the day.

“The Witch of the Sea.” He says, so low that you almost have to strain your ears to hear him. “That’s who the mermaid was making a deal with. The Witch of the Sea, whose benevolence is the basis for Octavinelle House.”

You feel yourself waking up so quickly it’s like caffeine has been injected straight into your veins.

“Then the, the previous two sets of dreams?” You ask, hardly daring to believe your luck.

“The Queen of Hearts, of Heartslaybul.” His eyes dart away from you. “And…the King of the Beasts. For Savannaclaw.”

You gape at him.

You need your notebook, you need to write this all down, this, this is—!

“How’d you not even know who they were?” There’s stifled amusement in Kingscholar-san’s voice as you tear through your clothes from yesterday at the end of your futon, trying to find it.

“I only started hearing about them when I arrived here this year, forgive me if I can’t identify them on sight yet.” You retort, finally finding the little spiral notebook in the pocket of your blazer.

Something long and thin tickles beneath your chin, something fluffy at the end flicking your cheek.

You rear away from it, falling backwards.

You hit something warm and solid and upright, rather than the quickly cooling sheets of your futon. Your position puts you in the ideal position to look up and see Kingscholar-san smirking down at you as you’re caged between his chest and knees.

Oh Seven help you, this is too dangerous.

“I won’t say this isn’t a surprise.” He starts, as the fluffy thing comes back to flick your chin again. His tail. “But it’s not. Hm. There are worse people in this school who could be my soulmate than you, I guess.”

Ice slides down your spine.

“Who,” You rasp as you push yourself up and away. “Who the hell told you?!”

Grim hasn’t been away from you long enough to say anything to Kingscholar, either with you or serving in the Monstro Lounge. Ace may have teased you about it before the Magift Tournament, but after, he clammed up and would always change the subject when someone tried to ask you about it. Deuce is the same, though that doesn’t mean he didn’t blurt something out on accident. Maybe Jack? But no, Jack didn’t know, and even if he did he’s the kind of guy whose moral compass would never—

“What?” Kingscholar-san’s face is a mask of confusion. “You just—”

“And if this is some,” You can feel your face twist as you spit it out, heart pounding double time with hurt. “Pity thing, trying to make the poor, arrogant Prefect feel better because it’s unrequited, then I’d like you to stop, right now. I don’t need to be pandered to, not about something like this.”

His eyebrows lower until he’s giving you a steely glare, and his voice has gone cold. “The hell does that mean?”

“Don’t play dumb.” You snap, one hand coming to rub the wrist where your cover lies. “I have your Words, but you don’t have mine anywhere on you. Your dorm uniform is sleeveless, and I’ve seen you without gloves.”

Rather than looking away from you, shame-faced, or admitting to you straight that it was all one big game, to see how he can toy with the person who’s devoted to him but not the other way around, Kingscholar-san says something that leaves you aghast.

“Words? What kind of bullshit are you spouting now?”

You yank up your hoodie sleeve and attack the fastenings on your cover with a ferocity you didn’t know you had, letting it land on a sleeping Grim with a thwap as you shove the underside of your wrist into his face.

He blinks, pushing it back, eyes flicking back and forth as he reads your Words. “What? When did you get this…?”

“I’ve had this since I was four years old!” You cry. “The first Words my soulmate will ever say to me, the way I’ll know who he is, and trust me, if I could have gotten them to Resolve as something else, I would.”

His mouth works soundlessly for a moment, before he says, “That’s not. Soulmates don’t have that.”

You scoff, incredulous. Of all the lame excuses…! “Yes. They do.”

“No, they don’t.” He insists, glaring. “Not in this world.”

“Then why,” You are half a second from either tearing your hair out or punching him in the face and only the gods and the Seven know which. “Does everyone here wear long sleeves or gloves?!”

That actually stops him up short for a second, before he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“They are part of the uniform.” He stresses, speaking slowly and loudly like he thinks you’re stupid. “But let me guess, in your world, everyone wears them to cover up that.”

“What other reason is there?!” You fling your arms out to the side. “And don’t you dare try to tell me that soulmates don’t exist in this world or whatever, I’ve been hanging around Ace and Riddle for long enough, I know this world has them!”

“Yeah,” He’s scowling at you, and the fact that he still looks hot like this is pissing you off even more. “But here, soulmates find each other by sharing dreams. Like the ones I’ve had to put up with ever since the start of the school year.”

You freeze mid-retort.

So many things start clicking into place. How Ace wasn’t sure Riddle was his soulmate until the morning after their confrontation over the tart. Why Deuce has so many questions about the meaning of gold in dreams when you’re all meant to be studying in private. The dumb jokes Ace makes about Riddle “keeping him up at night” that have the dorm head turning red and beheading him.

“But why didn’t anyone tell me?” Escapes you in a plaintive murmur.

“I dunno. Why didn’t you tell me that you knew what we were from the moment we met?” Kingscholar-san snipes back.

You scoff, “Oh right, when was I meant to tell you again? When you had your hand in my mouth? Oh! Or maybe it was while telling me that I had arrogance that surpassed even a lion’s when I was worrying about you?”

He face twists into a snarl. “After the overblot then! We were in the infirmary for three days together!”

“And I thought I’d just discovered that my soul bond was unrequited!” You insist, feeling your teeth grit. “I couldn’t put that on you! Not then and certainly not now!”

“And why not?!”

“Because, of all the people in this stupid, insane, dysfunctional, twisted world, you’re the one who shouldn’t have to settle for second-best!” You only realize you’re yelling after the words leave your mouth.

Kingscholar-senpai is staring at you, ears almost flat against his head.

Grim is also staring at you, from where he’s hiding under the covers.

“It’s just…You deserve first prize when it comes to stuff like this.” You finish lamely. “You shouldn’t have to settle for me if you don’t need to.”

Your cheeks are burning, your head is spinning. Why, oh why did you say something so, so melodramatic and stupid?!

“Uh…” There’s a haphazard knock on the doorframe. Buchie-senpai looks incredibly awkward as he continues. “Sorry to interrupt, but, uh. Morning practice?”

“Morning practice! Right!” You have never been happier for an escape. “I-uh-Grim and I need to get ready!”

You scoop Grim up, ignoring his cry of, “But I’m cozy!”

“Herbivore, wait—!”

You aren’t afraid to say you run as fast as your legs can physically take you.

“Please tell me you and Riddle have each others’ Words.” You beg Ace when you meet up with him, Deuce and Jack.

Ace has the audacity to blink at you, bewildered. “Wh-words? Prefect, what the hell are you talking about?”

You take a moment to hide your face in your hands and scream.

That day’s attempts to discover a way to destroy the contract are almost a complete failure.

It’s only thanks to running into Tsunotaro the gargoyle enthusiast outside of Ramshackle that you can add the “almost”.

His words about statuary and forms not matching up to function are bouncing around your head even as you make your slow way back to Savannaclaw. It feels like it should be significant in some way, but how—

“Where the hell have you been?”

Geh.

You’d forgot that coming back here means dealing with him.

“I went to Ramshackle out of habit.” You say breezily, proud of yourself for how you can project nonchalance into your tone. “Ended up talking to a friend who gave me some advice about the situation.”

Kingscholar-san stares at you for a moment, before turning over with a scoff. Dismissing your existence.

Maybe it’s like Vanrouge-senpai said. Leona Kingscholar isn’t the type to expend the energy fighting for what he sees as lost causes.

You huff at the painful twinge in your chest from that thought. You’re over him, you’re over him, you didn’t pour all the blood and sweat into repairing Ramshackle to not be over him by now.

Instead you begin to clean under Buchie-senpai’s instructions, picking up the mess strewing the room—and keeping Grim from pocketing your apparently-not-so-unrequited-soulmate’s valuables along the way.

Which leads to an argument where Buchie-senpai nags Kingscholar-san to hide his valuable before they get stolen, only for your soulmate to retort that he’d like to meet the person who had the guts to steal from him, which makes sense because if he’s truly that confident in his ability to stop a thief, why would—!

“THAT’S IT!”

It finally clicks.

“…vore? Herbivore. Yuu.”

“Hm?” You shake a little, coming back to yourself from where your mind is racing. “Sorry, what is it?”

“You just shouted really loudly, fgnah!” Grim protests. “Made all my fur stand up…”

“Grim.” You kneel down, putting your hands on his little shoulders. “If the contracts really are invincible and untouchable, why does Azul need a safe?”

Grim stares at you, little eyebrows furrowed. “…Because he needs them protected?”

Behind you, Kingscholar-senpai begins to laugh. “Now I see. You’ve thought of something pretty interesting, haven’t you?”

“Eh, so that’s how it is…” Buchie-senpai rubs his chin. “But still, you’re forgetting a pretty big obstacle if you wanna exploit this.”

“Those eel bastards!” Grim spits, hackles raising again. “They chased us around so much today, and made me work so hard in the Lounge…if I had my fire magic, I’d make sushi outta them, y’know!”

“No, sushi isn’t cooked.” Buchie-senpai interjects.

“If only the Leech twins weren’t there…” The gears in your head are turning, a plan forming before your very eyes.

“I’m going to stop you right there.”

You look up to see Kingscholar-senpai frowning. “I’ve got a general idea of what you’re thinking, but let me say right now that I absolutely will not help. I’m not getting involved with troublesome things, and the only thing more troublesome that you is that octopunk. Count me out.”

You can’t deny the hurt that twinges in your chest as he lies back down and turns away from you, even as Grim puffs up at your feet, looking a second away from hissing.

You catch Buchie-senpai facepalming out of the corner of your eye.

That, of all things, is what inspires you to stand and march around the bed until you’re in front of Kingscholar’s face.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.” You declare, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hah?” At least that gets him sitting up.

You tick it off on your fingers. “The easy way is you decide to be nice to your poor, unfortunate soulmate and agree to help us out with my plan. I might even give you a reward for it.”

He shoots you a disinterested look. “And the hard way?”

You smirk at him.

You wish what few hours of sleep you do get aren’t plagued by the dreams.

But no. Instead you’re treated to a montage of the Witch of the Seas actively sabotaging the mermaid until she has the girl’s kingly father in a position to trade everything for his daughter.

“So she was after everything from the start…” You mutter as you feel yourself wake up more.

“Hn.” Comes the grunt from the bed above you. “…How can you look so well-rested after what you did last night. ‘S insulting.”

You smile innocently. “You were the one who wanted it the hard way, senpai.”

There’s a series of noises above you that have you sitting up, frowning in concern. You can’t have him choke to death yet, you’ve got a plan to implement!

Although that reminds you, as you take a seat on the edge of the bed and he watches you warily, that there’s something you need to get through to him before you part ways.

“Whatever you do today,” You warn. “Do not agitate Ashengrotto-senpai. No boasting, no bragging, no giving false hope, nothing that could drag his mental state down. Just destroy the contracts quietly and leave. We do not need another overblot on our hands.”

Kingscholar-senpai groans. “Quit nagging herbivore. I know what I’m doing.”

Which is funny really, because this?

This situation right here, where Ashengrotto-senpai is in the middle of overblotting, screaming about how he’s not going back to being a “lame ink-squirting crybaby”?

This does not look like Leona knows what he’s doing.

You attempt to communicate this to him through gaze alone before beginning to rally everyone plus Jade and Floyd to take Azul down.

At least this overblot is a bit better than Kingscholar-senpai’s in that it seems to be fuel more by lashing out at the nearest targets rather than coldly calculating which targets are the best to attack in its quest to murder everyone.

Unfortunately, as you dart forward to drag Floyd-senpai back when he won’t get out of the line of fire himself, that includes you as well.

In a heartbeat, one of the phantom’s tentacles curls around your arm and shoulder.

It yanks.

You don’t have the breath in your lungs to scream.

It begins dragging you towards where Ashengrotto-senpai is waiting, trident at the ready—!

“King’s Roar!”

Sand, floating away in the water around you, as the phantom thrashes in agony, the disintegrating tentacle threatening the rest of the body before Ashengrotto-senpai lops it off.

An arm snags you about the waist, pulling you tight to Kingscholar-senpai’s side even as it’s careful not to jostle where your shoulder’s been dislocated.

He doesn’t let you go until the fight’s over.

You go to bed in your Ramshackle Dorm that night, uneasy.

Sure, you resolved the issue with Ashengrotto-senpai and now know the truth about this world’s soulmates, much to Ace and Floyd-senpai’s teasing, but Kingscholar-senpai sloped off without a word once he’d taken you to the infirmary again. You still don’t know where you stand with him, if there’s anything you could still make of this or if that ship has sailed, if he has any idea why these dreams are coming to you or even what they are. You just! You don’t know. You don’t know if he knows either.

The dreams are waiting for you the moment you close your eyes.

The first one isn’t so bad, if a little unsettling. Your mirror glowing and an odd voice resounding from its depths doesn’t even ping your weirdness sensor too much anymore, sadly.

But then you shift, dropping deeper into sleep.

And come face to face with the monster again.

It’s head is maned with large, grasping tentacles, and Floyd-senpai lies several paces behind it, already torn in two, mismatched eyes staring at you accusingly.

Jack and Leona are the only two between you and it, and you try to remember how it’s gone other nights, how you can possibly beat it or hold it off long enough to make an opening for all of you to escape.

A sweep of a tentacle and Jack meets the same fate as Floyd-senpai. Torn to bits as if he’s a discarded toy.

Leona shoves you behind him, away from him his mouth forming the word “RUN!”

You scream as the teeth close around his chest, shaking him like a rag doll before tossing him away.

You stumble to his corpse, begging him to get up, look at you, anything, Leona, don’t leave you, not like this, please—!

You can’t even bring yourself to run even as the grasping hands close around you.

You wake.

You’re coated in sweat. Your dislocated shoulder aches.

You ignore it all as you lurch from the bed, non dominant hand grabbing the charcoal as you tug out the paper from under the bed with a foot.

You have to—you can’t let—if you can just—!

A sob is trapped in your throat.

You sit up the rest of the night, staring at the monstrosity forming before your eyes.

Even when the light under the curtains turns from black to dark blue, you do not. Take your gaze. Off of it.

It doesn’t really surprise you when you hear a thunderous pounding on the door downstairs.

Startle you? Yes.

But you can guess who it is with almost comical ease.

You shoot a wary glance at the drawing, but. You already took your eyes off it. If it was going to do anything, it would’ve done so by now.

The pounding starts up again.

You groan as you get to your feet, wanting to itch at your shoulder under the sling as you troop down the cold stairs. “M coming, ‘m coming.”

You yank open the door to see Kingscholar-senpai standing there.

He doesn’t look like he’s slept either.

“It is,” You inform him gravely. “Not even five in the morning. Why are you here.”

He snorts as he steps past you into the building. “Don’t ask questions we both know the answer to.”

You sigh as you shut and lock the door behind him.

“Huh.” He says as he heads up the stairs. “It’s less…run-down than I was expecting.”

“Thanks.” You retort, your verbal filter not quite as awake as you are. “Fixing it up was my project to get over an unrequited soulmate.”

He gives you an unamused stare.

“…Sorry.” You rub the back of your head. “I promise I’m not actually trying to start a fight every time we talk. It’s just…”

“Hn.” He grins at you for some reason. “Ruggie says I have that effect on people. That it’s my ‘winning personality.’”

After a moment, you smile back. “Well, I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

He looks around your room with interest.

Right up until he notices your wall by the door. “King’s balls!”

“Shh!” You hush. “Grim’s still sleeping!”

You both pause for a moment, listening hard. Grim smacks his lips in his sleep and rolls over onto his tummy, his paws coming up to cover his ears.

“Honestly,” Kingscholar-senpai huffs. “Warn me before you show me all. All this.”

You look at your wall, the names of your friends and their connections to recent overblots, the dreams, and any literature which could contribute to your understanding of these events all neatly connected with pushpins and red thread.

“It’s not that bad.” You say, limply.

He raises an eyebrow in your direction. “Sure. Why’d you have all this anyway? Seems…excessive.”

You scrub a fist over your eyes, exhaustion setting in. “I just…these dreams. They feel way too real to be just dreams, right? And you said that they’re of twisted versions of the myths of the Great Seven, which somehow connect to the dorm that has something going on. Usually by reflecting the actions of the one about to overblot. So if I can understand them, maybe, maybe get ahead of them somehow…”

You scratch at your sling. Kingscholar-senpai catches your hand, and you smile weakly at him. “These kinds of dreams didn’t start until after the first overblot. The monster in the Dwarf Mines that was so far gone that it didn’t even have a person attached anymore. And then there’s…you know.”

You gesture to where the drawing sits on the floor.

Kingscholar-senpai actually lets out a small snarl at the sight of it.

“If it were just a stress dream, something my subconscious is coming up with to process all this, this stuff I’m going through, that’d be ine.” You ramble, feeling slightly feverish. “But that dream only ever comes the night after an overblot, not, not more frequently like a normal stress dream. I’m scared that it’s somehow trying to tell me that this…thing is coming. And, and I’m getting more and more injured with every overblot, so unless I can find a way to counteract them, stop them, I’m not sure I can save—I’ll—!”

To your horror, there are hot tears sliding down your cheeks. You try to mop them up on your hoodie, sniffing hard. “…Sorry.”

“Right.”

You look up to see him standing there, with his arms crossed over his chest. “Where do we start?”

You blink.

“Huh…?”

Leona-senpai gives you an unimpressed look. “Don’t be stupid. Admittedly, if you tried to tell me about this without the dreams, I’d’ve told the crow to get you a therapist. Maybe stop pushing all his duties onto a first year, let alone the one who doesn’t have magic, before you have a mental breakdown.”

“Gee, thanks.” You say, voice flat, but a smile is trying to quirk the corners of your mouth.

“But we do share the dreams.” He scruffs a hand through his bangs, gaze flickering over your wall before landing on you. “And as much as I’d love to wash my hands of this and say it’s someone else’s problem, this stuff is targeting my soulmate. And how could I say I’m the dorm head of Savannaclaw if I just stood aside and let my soulmate get preyed on without helping you fight back?”

Leona-senpai almost seems shy as he suddenly avoids your gaze. “The King of the Beasts wouldn’t. He defended his lioness and cubs to the last. It’s only natural I’d do the same for you.”

You can’t quite help the watery laugh that escapes you at that.

“Oi.”

At the sight of his ears going flat, you raise your hands. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m not, not mocking you or anything, it’s just. I don’t think I knew how much I needed to hear someone say that. To hear you say that.”

Pride is still an annoyingly good look on him. You find you like it more when it’s paired with the soft smile he’s favoring you with now.

“As for where to start…” You gnaw at your thumbnail. “Ah, right. We’ve talked about the dreams about the Great Seven, and of the, that, but what about the mirror dreams? What did you make of them?”

“Mirror dreams?” Ah, his expression of confusion. An old friend which is wearing out its welcome.

“Yeah, you know? The dreams where that mirror is glowing? And there’s knocking from behind it, and tonight there was a weird voice saying something that I couldn’t make out.” He still is staring at you, blank-faced. “It happened before the monster dream…?”

“Yuu,” You can’t even enjoy the shiver that goes through you from hearing him say your name with how serious he sounds. “I haven’t had any dreams like that.”

But then…that means….

You both glance over at the mirror.

The laugh you let out is more than a bit hysterical. You fold forward until you hit his chest.

“Fi-figures.” You hiccup, trying to keep what little composure you can. “Even on top of all of this, there’s always something, right? No rest for the wicked.”

His heartbeat is reassuring at least, as is the low growl that’s rumbling through him and into you.

“Fuck this.”

You yelp as an arm sweeps under your legs. You find yourself grabbing at his sleep shirt as he marches over to the bed and clambers onto it, arranging himself and you so that he forms a wall between you and the mirror.

“Le-Leona-senpai! Wh-what are?” It’s hard to remember to keep your volume down. Grim snuffles behind him and lets out another snore.

“We haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a day.” He says as he arranges you to his liking, his tail coiling around your leg. “And we’re both too tired to deal with this bullshit. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning. Maybe even later.”

“B-but-?!” You protest, even as your eyes feel heavy.

“Sleep.” His voice rumbles beneath your ear, and his arm is warm around you, coaxing your muscles to relax of their own accord.

Well, with an order like that, you can hardly disobey, can you?

[endious]

CHAPTER ONE.

FEATURING 、JEFF THE KILLER X F!READER

WARNINGS 、FOUL LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, DEATH

NAVIGATION 、THE SMELL OF IRON AND 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘.

Sirens blare loudly, echoing down the streets and catching the attention of those that drive by or are in the area. Three cop cars, flashing red and blue are pulled over on the shoulder of the road, a couple officers stand beside the cars and talk as their sights are directed towards the ditch or what laid in it.

“That’s the fifth one this week.” An older officer says, voice gruff from age as he stares down at the bloodied sight of a body that had be brutally beaten. The face of the presume to be woman that had been missing for two weeks was a mangled mess in the ditch, her body in an uncomfortable position and her limbs tangled as she laid with her face in the soil beneath where all the disgusting bugs and worms resided. Her dark brown hair was tangled in knots and dirtied from the lack of care it received much like the rest of her body.

The older officer turns to two much younger men beside him, there’s a worried look in his eyes as his grey mustache twitches and he presses his lips into a thin line. “This is serious, more serious than we had thought.”

”Are they really connected?” One of the men speaks up, brows knit together as he gives the body a look of pity as she’s pulled into a body bag with care and carried into the ambulance that had arrived a few moments ago. The young man turns his attention back to the seasoned officer, “It just doesn’t seem real.”

”Well, these are the types of things you experience having a job like this.” The older man sighs, staring out at the woods just on the other side of the ditch. There’s a distant look in his green eyes that the younger officers can’t quite name but it seems somber the way he looks out at the trees. “We’ll find the bastard that did this. We got dna on ‘em this time, he can’t keep hiding forever.”

He walks away, a slow pace with a slight limp as he heads for his cop car and radios in to dispatch on the situation. The last two officers give each other a glance, dread of the future and what awaits when the time comes hanging heavy on their shoulders as they turn and walk to their respected vehicles and the crime scene is closed off shortly after.

The only thing that remains to be dealt with later on is the blood staining the earth as wind blows and birds chirp in the distance. The sun hanging high in the sky as midday rolls around and the area becomes desolate.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

There’s a throb in his skull that’s irritating and souring his mood. He huffs out a breath, glancing at his younger brother sitting beside him with narrowed eyes. Even the mere existence of his brother made him angry. He grumbles under his breath and opts to look out the window at the scenery beyond.

He can hear his parents bickering with one another in the front seats, talking on about the changes happening and how it will effect the family. Hah, what futile bullshit. His black hair cascades around his face as he looks down at the journal in his lap. His mother bought it for him nearly two years ago, “so you can get your thoughts out and onto paper whenever you need to express them, Jeff.” He thought- no, he still thinks it’s a shitty excuse to get out of actually being a parent but he could care less about that. He already knew how his parents viewed him. That was partially why his parents moved from neighborhood to neighborhood, state to state almost yearly it seemed.

He still wonders why he keeps the damn thing despite never writing a single thought onto a piece of paper within it. The black leather cover is smooth against his hand as he traces invisible lines into it with his index. He narrows his eyes, staring down at the inky color and contemplates whether he should throw it out the window or keep holding onto it like it will eventually bring him any benefit in the future.

”Honey, do you actually know where the neighborhood is? I can find it on my phone,” His mom quips, gaze casted to her husband in the driver’s seat as he idly taps his finger against the steering wheel.

”Christ’s sake, Jess, I don’t need no god damn navigation app to go a couple more miles down the road!” He exclaims with an exaggerated huff and she crosses her arms and turns her nose up as she looks out the passenger window.

”I just didn’t want you to get lost, is that so wrong of me, Laurence?” She huffs, seemingly hurt by his tone and words. They’ve been doing this back and forth yapping nearly the whole damn trip. It was such a headache.

”Hey, Jeff look at the sign outside!” His brother, Liu, says suddenly with a smile as he presses his cheek into the glass of the window and stares at the tall and large sign that has a town’s name on it. “‘Hives Forest’… Hey, Dad, is that where we’re going to be living?”

Their father glances up at the rearview mirror at his youngest son’s face before directing his attention back to the road. “Yep, it sure is..” He says but he doesn’t sound awfully enthusiastic about it.

Jess turns on the radio, turning the volume up just enough to hear whatever song was playing. The sound of a breathy female voice comes through the speakers and a beat Jeff often heard his own mother listen to meets his ears and he recognizes it as a Britney Spears song. He mentally rolls his eyes, annoyed he’d have to listen to the shitty radio station’s songs for the next 20 or so minutes.

His brother starts to hum the tune to a different song, tilting his head side to side as he smiles to himself. He acted like such a damn child it irked something in Jeff and the added annoyance of him humming only made Jeff’s blood boil a bit more than before.

“Do you have to hum some stupid song this entire ride, Liu?” Jeff suddenly snaps, brows furrowed together and his lips turned down into a frown as he glares at his younger brother. Liu blinks at Jeff, surprised by his sudden hostility before recovering almost instantaneously as he nods.

”It’s my favorite song, Jeff. Plus, Sully likes it too!” He smiles widely, gesturing to the small rabbit in a animal carrier on the carpeted floor of the car beside his legs that swing idly.

Jeff scoffs, rolling his eyes as he gives his brother a judging look. “You’re 15 and still playing pretend with your pet?”

Liu frowns, “And you’re 17. It’s weird you still carry that journal around.” Jeff nearly has an outburst, vile and rude words on the tip of his tongue as he twists his upper body to turn towards his brother when he hears his mother shuffling in her seat before turning her head to look over her shoulder.

”You boys doing alright?” She asks, staring at Jeff with a hint of confusion at his tensed up and awkward position before he sighs and leans back into his seat and stares out the window.

”Yeah, we’re fine.” He grumbles out and she looks over as best as she can at Liu who nods in silent agreement as he poked a finger through one of the large grids in the small animal carrier and gently pets the white rabbit’s head.

She hums quietly and turns to face forward once more. Her hands fiddle with one another in her lap as she stares at the road ahead and the houses slowly coming into view in the distance.

She shuffles a bit in her seat uncomfortably, messing with her seatbelt before fiddling with the radio and its volume causing Laurence to groan beside her in annoyance.

”God would you— stop fidgeting so damn much. We’re nearly there.” He scoffs, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and she makes a nervous sound in response.

”I’m just… I’m worried Laurence. A new house, new school for the boys, a new neighborhood…” She pauses for a moment before continuing in a whisper, “I don’t know how it’s going to effect them. I’m just worried about them, hon.”

“Yeah,” Laurence sighs, repositioning his hands on the steering wheel as he flips the blinker on and slows down to turn into a neighborhood. “So am I.”

Every home in the entire neighborhood looks like a bunch of copy and pastes. Boring, bland, typical suburban homes everywhere you looked. The streets were empty, no children playing outside in sight as they drove rather slowly down the desolate road.

Jeff stares out the window at the various houses. At least a few of them are different colors rather than being entirely cookie-cutters. He sighs through his nose, hands squeezing the journal in his lap absentmindedly before the car turns into a driveway and rolls to a stop at their new home.

Everyone exits the vehicle, staring at the house in all of its glory. The thing looked like shit compared to the other homes. It stood out like a sore thumb with its chipped and dark colored paint and it’s overall rickety looking exterior. The porch looked nearly as rough as the haunted-house wannabe itself looked. The wood of the porch deteriorating from previous days of rain seeping into it, Jeff was predicting which one of them would break a hole through the weak looking stairs and hurt themselves until his father puts a hand on his shoulder and tugs him away from his thoughts.

Jeff slowly turns his head just the slightest, staring at the shape of his dad in his peripheral vision.

”Care to help me and your brother get the boxes inside?” Laurence asks, voice laced with irritation as Jeff sees his mother head up the porch and unlock the front door.

Jeff doesn’t say a word, opting to stay silent as he turns and walks past his father and opens the back hatch of the suv. He grabs a box, hearing his brother follow his actions shortly after as he heads towards the porch.

The gravely trail that leads up to the steps crunches under his converse shoes before wooden stairs creak and groan as he walks up them and places the first of many boxes inside the home. He gets a small glance of the interior and it looks to be in far better condition than the exterior.

He walks to the back of the car as his father passes him heading for the house with a box in his hands, clearly struggling to do so. Jeff heads for the back of the car once more and grabs a rather large and heavy box with a small grunt as he turns to walk towards the home.

He nearly, nearly bumps into a girl just walking down the sidewalk by the car.

Her small gasp meets his ears right as he reacts in time and he stops himself mid-step. His brows furrowing together and his lips curling down into a frown as he huffs in annoyance. He peers over the box at the shorter girl and his irked expression falls, completely enraptured by the sight of her.

”I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were there.” She says, apologizing in earnest as her brows knit together upward and she gives him an apologetic look. It makes his blood run hot in his veins, makes his brain short circuit and he’s left unable to even say anything. What the hell type of effect does some girl that nearly walked into him have on him?

He manages a simple shrug but he knows he’s probably still got a look on his face because she chuckles nervously. It’s silent for a moment, awkwardly so as he stares down at her and she struggles to maintain his gaze before her pretty eyes are glancing over to the direction she was heading and she sees someone that she’s obviously familiar with.

The girl walks past Jeff, offering a gentle smile when her eyes lock with his once more as she gives him more space on the sidewalk before casting a glance at the rest of the family moving boxes into the home. It’s a small interaction, insignificant in the grand scheme of things and yet something about her made a seed plant itself inside of his chest. Her eyes that sparkled with innocence, and that short skirt that barely covered her ass… He nearly gets lost in a trance, eyes glued to her figure that slowly grows smaller the farther she walks away from him before his father’s voice snaps him out of it and Jeff glares over at the middle aged man.

”Hurry up with the box! We don’t have all damn day to waste, son.” His father yells out Jeff, causing the teen to silently seethe with anger as his fingers dig into the cardboard box and he walks towards the house. His head is filled with crude words he wants to spout out and maybe a few violent thoughts mixed in there as well but he doesn’t get to think on it for too long when he drops the box to the ground in the large living room and his father shuts the front door.

Liu looks over at his older brother with a smile as he holds the animal carrier in his hands, obviously struggling to which Jeff holds back a sneer at the sight.

”Jeff, why don’t we go check out the rooms? It’ll be fun!” It won’t be fun but Jeff would rather find his room so he can stay in there away from everyone else. Jeff shrugs and heads up the creaky stairs first while Liu hurriedly places the carrier down, Jeff hears his mom call out something along the lines of, “food will be ready soon!” but he wasn’t really paying attention as he ascended the stairs.

There’s two doors on the left and three on the right, one door is directly down the small hall but he immediately assumes it’s the main bedroom or a storage closet.

He glances to his left, walking towards the closest door and twisting the knob and pushing it open. The door groans as it slides open and Liu leans to the right to peer past Jeff at the room. It’s rather empty, with only a bed, some curtains that looked like it has some burn holes within it and the smell of smoke filling the room.

Liu’s nose scrunches up in disgust at the smell as he glances down at the carpet an odd color of dark gray with splotches of light gray within it. “Ew, it smells like a smoker lived in here.” His brows furrow as he looks at the wallpaper that looks soiled from water damage. “What the heck happened to the walls? I don’t really like this room..”

Jeff scoffs and turns to look down at Liu. “Who said you got first pick?” He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned on the doorway. “You haven’t even seen the other rooms.”

Liu’s mouth opens but nothing comes out so he closes it a moment after. He looks over at the next door and then back at Jeff. “Then let’s check all the rooms before deciding!” God, that cheery voice was really giving Jeff a headache.

Liu opens the next door, eyes wide with curiosity but his expression falls at the sight of a bathroom. The small space doesn’t look very clean and the sight of the toilet and gross rug by the shower makes him shiver in disgust. “Ew, the previous owners didn’t even clean this? It’s disgusting.”

Jeff doesn’t seem too bothered by the sight, mainly concerned over the discolored tiles on the walls and how they got so yellow. The place was seeming to become more and more suspicious and more of a health hazard than they had originally thought.

”Let’s just move on.” Jeff sighs, turning and walking to the other side of the hall and hearing the sound of his younger brother follow close behind like a lost puppy.

He reaches for the door on the opposite side of the bathroom. “Let’s see what’s behind door number three.” He says unenthusiastically as the door creaks open and he looks into it. It was a basic bedroom in seemingly better condition than the previous one they’d seen. How boring.

”I like this one a lot better.” Liu speaks up, implying he’s already claiming it as his own and Jeff rolls his eyes as he turns to walk towards the next door when Liu grabs at his hoodie sleeve.

“What?” Jeff sighs, turning and looking down at his brother who points towards the bedroom and more so pointing up at something. He raises a brow and takes a few steps towards Liu and leans around the open doorway to follow where his brother was pointing.

”What even is that on the ceiling?” His younger brother asks, brows knit together in confusion and then Jeff makes the same expression himself before stepping into the room. “Jeff! Wait-“

”Oh c’mon, are you really scared of a fuckin’ stain on the ceiling?” He sneers to which his brother shrinks in on himself in embarrassment. Jeff narrows his eyes as he looks up at the dark splotch and raises his hand to touch it. He can hear his brother make a disapproving sound over the action but Jeff didn’t care, his sickly pale fingers make contact with the stain and he instantly recoils his hand down with a look of disgust.

”It’s still wet,” He says, looking down at his hand as he spreads his fingers and watches the black substance web between his index and middle finger. He furrows his brows and with a grimace and groan he wipes it off on his black jeans. “Gross, sticky shit.” He mutters to himself, his fingers still hold a faded dark and inky black residue on the pads of his digits.

He turns to Liu with a look of annoyance. “Don’t fuckin’ touch it, it stains your skin.” He says with his jaw clenched to which Liu nods repeatedly yet his eyes are still focused on the black splotch on the ceiling, curiosity in his green eyes.

Jeff storms past his younger brother, his upper arm bumping into Liu’s shoulder as he walks past him and out of the room. Their names are called from downstairs from their father and before Liu can say anything to Jeff he’s already stomping down the stairs into the living room.

”In here boys!” Jess calls out to her sons and both their figures head towards the sound shortly after, staring down at the dinner on the table and Liu grins widely with excitement as he takes a seat at the table.

Jeff takes slow strides to the table and sits down beside Liu, eyes boring into the wooden surface before glancing at the plate of spaghetti still steaming in front of him.

Liu turns to his mom at one end of the table and smiles, dimples showing in his cheeks as he grabs the fork beside his plate. “Thanks, mom! I was starving!” She gives him a soft smile in return before glancing at her husband on the other end of the dining table who’s already eating without a single care in the world. It causes her to frown but she’s silent on it and begins to eat quietly. The sound of metal clinking against plates fills the room as Jeff continues to stare down at his food, clearly lost in thought.

However this doesn’t go unnoticed by his mother. She stops eating momentarily. ”Jeff, are you alright?” she asks in a quiet and concerned voice. It catches his attention, brings him back to the present but he doesn’t remove his gaze from the plate of spaghetti slowly cooling off.

”’m not hungry.” He says barely above a whisper and by this point the entire room is silent and their eyes are on him. He hates it, he hates the attention pulled onto himself.

His father scoffs, a sound that’s nearly mocking as it meets Jeff’s ears and he glares over at his father, finally looking away from the food. “Why don’t you go cool off, huh? See how nice the backyard looks.”

He almost, almost makes a remark but holds his tongue as he and his father scowl at each other. There’s an invisible tension rising in the air and Jeff clenches his fists tight under the table, imagining how tight he’d have to squeeze his father’s neck in order to see his eyes pop out.

”J-Jeff,” His mother says, struggling to come up with a proper solution to ease the anger bubbling up inside of him. “Your father’s right.. Why don’t you go outside— it’ll be good to get some fresh air!” She stumbles with her words, trying to sound convincing but the slight tremble in her voice just makes Jeff stifle a dry chuckle.

He stands up from the table, eyes glued to his dad for another moment before he turns and leaves the dining room and heads for the backdoor in the kitchen.

”Don’t be out there for too long, you hear me?” Fuck off you prick, Jeff thinks to himself as he clenches his jaw and pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek to hold back from saying something his father wouldn’t like.

He shuts the back door a little rougher than necessary, daring his father to come and say something about it before a few moments of silence pass and he relaxes his tensed up shoulders with a deep sigh.

He steps off the small back deck that’s there to offer and sits on the steps with a small huff through his nose. He rests his forearms on his knees and looks down at his hand, the faded smear of that black substance on his skin. He swore it still looked freshly wet, glinting on the pads of his index and middle in the pale light from the moon that hung high in the inky black sky.

[morganwrites12672]

Billy Hargrove x Harrington!Reader

'Rocky Beginnings'

You and Billy had a rocky start. People don't go from being in a living hell to a happy life with no bumps I'm the road.

Thanks to @billysbabyy for giving me some ideas for this fic!

You and Billy had a rocky begining. It wasn't easy for him to go from his situation to perfectly fine. He moved in with you and Steve, your parents had the final straw after Chrissy was murdered.

Not giving a fuck about their children, they tucked tail and ran off to some tropical island. No thanks to them, you and Steve helped kill Vecna and out an end to it all.

It wasn't easy, and the people of the town were still convinced some spooky devil shit had happened. Some believed it was still happening.

Aside from that, everything was amazing. Now.

Let's take a look at the rocky begining.

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

When it was mainly just you and Steve, everything had been whatever, whenever. Billy couldn't understand that.

"Im sorry, I will go right now," Billy says upon seeing it was his week to go get a few things you guys needed. It was just milk and there was a new type of soda Steve had wanted to try.

You stop billy and notice the way he recoils from your touch. You move to give him some space and see fear. He is standing angled away from you, his body hidden. As if he was preparing for a blow.

"It's fine, baby. Seriously, we can go together tomorrow or in a few days," you say with a shrug. Billy moves to escape. He mumbles a "Okay" before running off to his room.

Steve came downstairs and he say you were upset. Mainly because you were resting your head on your arms which were on the counter. He didn't think that meant you were happy.

He grabs your wrist and drags you outside. He hands you a pack of smokes and a lighter. He knew you were a stress smoker. It was one of your shitty habits that you couldn't shake.

Gum had helped, but you still needed a light every few days or so. Steve rarely smoked. Very varez he cared about his health more. He cared about yours to, but he knew that sometimes you just needed one.

"Am I doing something wrong?" You ask and hand him the pack. He raises an eyebrow, "I can go this one time. But I will be looking for those," you reply to his eyebrow raise.

"No, Yn don't blame yourself. You always do that," you scoff at his words. But they were true. Anytime a rumor started or you got dumped, you instantly thought it was your fault and found some bullshit way to reason with why it was your fault.

You nod and give him a hug before going in. Steve was more of a best friend then a brother. You both practically raised the other

"Billy?" You say softly and hear the faint hum if some old rock mixtape Billy always played. You hear footsteps and then the music stops before he answers the door.

"I turned it off sorry," he says before shutting it. He shut down. Sometimes if things got to different or he got to inside his head about the things his dad said he did this. recoiled and took responsibility. Bullshit his dad preached.

"I don't care if you blast that shit, I wanted to make sure you were okay. 'kay, baby?" You say softly and he opens the door. You smile and walk in.

He is still closed off as you walk in. He sits on the bed and looks down. You walk over to him and slowly move your hand towards his. He grabs your hand and gives it a soft squeeze.

You move to lay on his bed and sit partially against the headboard. You motion for him to let you cuddle him.

It takes a minute but he lays on your chest. He is on his stomach, pressed against you. He tangles his legs in yours as you thread your fingers through his hair.

Rocky beginnings were nothing you three wouldn't overcome.

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

"Get the fuck up you bastard!" You tell at your brother and Billy gets up from where he was laying, in his room upstairs.

"I'm not sitting on the damn remote, now move I like Fast Times," he says back and motions for you to move.

"You don't watch it for the plot. You watch it for Phoebe Cates tits," you correct and Steve scoffs.

"I watch it for Phoebe Cates boobies," Steve corrects and you groan as billy runs downstairs.

"I probably moved it, I'm so-" he begins before Steve cuts him off.

"Hargrove you're fine. I am most likely sitting on it, but boobies," Steve says with a shirt and you grab Billy's hand and walk upstairs.

You only did it because you noticed the way Billy's eyes refused to make any kind of eye contact. He kept fidgeting with one of his rings, and you knew.

You knew a panic attack or break down was going to happen. You also knew Billy wouldn't want Steve to see him like that.

You shut the door as Billy sits down against the wall and looks up. It was times like this you wanted to go find that bastard and beat the living shit out of him. You wanted to do it anyway, this occurrence made it worse.

"Breathe," you tell him and he nods and takes a deep breath. He desperately grabs onto your hand as he tries to calm down.

It was a really minor panic attack, and after a few minutes he guides you to the bed. You lay down and pull him into your chest.

He lets out a choked sob and you play with Gus soft curls. It was something that always helped calm him down.

"Sometimes I feel like he was right. I'm just some worthles-" you couldn't bear to let him finish

"You're not. He is and that's why he has to make you feel like shit. Don't let the bad guy win." You soothe him to sleep as the sobs slow

It was slightly difficult making sure Billy was okay. You still wouldn't trade him for the world. If undoing Neils damage took your whole life then so be it. You and your own flaws, courtesy of non present asshole parents.

Rocky beginnings happen in every relationship. Nothing a little time and love wouldn't fix.

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Requests are open! My pinned post contains all of the people and fandoms I write for!

If you enjoyed please reblog and leave a comment! Something that takes you less then a minute helps support and inform writers!

[cowprintsillies]

Fic Update

Update for Ranboo’s Terrible No Good Guide to Freedom: The Long Way Round - Chapter 1 - CowPrintLilies, TheStanleyParableEnjoyer - Generation Loss (Web Series) [Archive of Our Own]

Haha I’m ignoring that i haven’t updated in three months ITS OK BECAUSE IM WRITING NOW AND I WONT BE LONG!! It’s getting done!! Soon to be posted!! Here’s an excerpt from the chapter in progress!!

---

The walk there is uneventful in a physical sense. Security, thank his lucky stars, hadn’t reared its ugly head yet as it so often did. Charlie wasn’t dumb enough to think it never would- he’d become intimately acquainted with its claws way too many times to think like that- but it wasn’t here yet. 

Emotionally, the walk there may as well have crushed him with a comically large piano and laughed in his face about it. Because something happened and they aren’t talking about it. Ranboo is the most courageous kid Charlie has ever met and probably ever will. Desperation only gets you so far and if that was all that was keeping Ranboo going they would’ve given up loops ago. Ranboo is one brave fucking kid. They had, for all intents and purposes, had to (whether those people came back or not) kill a lot of people to survive. And they had still gotten back up, gotten back to escaping. 

The kid trailing behind Charlie now looked like a few choice words would break them in half. It made something in Charlie’s chest crawl. Something not just happened, something changed. And he is going to fucking kill whoever did it if it’s the last thing he does.

Ranboo trips slightly as the flooring transitions from tile to carpeting.

Charlie doesn’t mention it.

The walk continues like this for the better part of 10 minutes. The odd Employee roamed idly about the floors, and Charlie would lead the way and Ranboo would follow meekly behind- save for whenever they steered Charlie from making a wrong turn. Sue him, he’s new to the whole “keeping his memories thing” and yes he may be a little bit overwhelmed with the whole thing because first of all it makes no logical sense for time to loop around them but then again Showfall Media makes no sense and he’s trying his best to be there for the kid because he gets a horrible familial burning in his collarbone whenever he thinks of what they went through and are still going through-

Ranboo tugs on the back of his shirt before Charlie walks into the side of a cabinet.

-and his internal monologue has become nonsensical rambling. Awesome, real helpful Charlie.

Ranboo is looking at him with the air of a kicked puppy. Or- no, more like the air of someone who just watched someone else shoot a puppy then put it in a meat grinder. Either way Charlie doesn’t like the expression on Ranboo's face. Their eyes don’t belong on someone so young. The poor kid looks like he’s been through the wars. It’s plain trauma. Charlie internally curses Hetch’s name into the dirt, as has slowly become a tradition whenever he thinks particularly hard about the situation. 

Charlie takes a moment to mentally slap himself back into the present moment, however shitty the present moment has proven to be, and takes stock of the surroundings. No immediate or imminent danger, save for himself almost giving himself a new bruise with that cabinet. Charlie then mentally slaps himself again because how had he managed to get so lost in his thoughts to not pay attention to where he was going? He knows first hand that this place is dangerous and he just daydreamed instead of looking out for Ranboo? Some good he’s doing.

First note of order is that they successfully reached the Puzzler’s Wardrobe Set which means that he can finally try and lighten the mood. 

Ranboo had been standing by Charlie, idly looking over the various assortments of clothes, wigs and miscellaneous items in an attempt to completely ignore the whole situation that had lead them here to begin with and had, like he said in his previous inner monologue: settled a growing rock of worry right in Charlie's chest. Whenever they notice Charlie looking at them they physically straighten up to try and look more put together than they clearly were. 

It’s weird. A lot of this situation is weird. Honestly weird is an understatement. Charlie should say something to break the strange silence coating the two of them, and he’s not sure why he can’t. A million words and questions come to mind such as are you ok what happened what did you see how can I make it better, all swirling and twisting together in one mass of fear, worry, anger and care. Everything knots together in his heart and by the time it’s reached his mouth no longer makes any sort of sense. He wants to say a lot of things. 

What's wrong?

Who hurt you?

What happened?

How can I help?

Please let me help you.

It will be ok.

But what came out of his mouth instead is-

“Want to dress up?”

[pcril]

* ◟ : 〔 MICHIEL HUISMAN , CIS MAN + HE /HIM 〕 COEN HUMMEL , some say you’re a FORTY-TWO YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both ASTUTE and UNFORGIVING, one can’t help but think of PERFECT (EXCEEDER) by MASON VS PRINCESS SUPERSTAR when you walk by. are you still a DEFECTIVE ASSASSIN / PRIVATE DETECTIVE at RED EYE, even with your reputation as the THE SCORNED? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and NIGHT TERRORS BLEEDING INTO REALITY BLEEDING INTO DEVOTION, LOVE IS A FEAST BUT YOU'VE LEARNED TO ABSTAIN, THE SEATS ARE EMPTY AND THE THEATRE IS DARK - WHY DO YOU KEEP ACTING?, although we can’t help but think of CANE (JOHN WICK 4), LADYBUG (BULLET TRAIN), BENOIT BLANC (KNIVES OUT) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

ENTER THE SCORNED .

You show face beneath the neon splatter with a wide grin and lazy posture. A black glove adorns each hand — a staple piece at any given time and day. An atmosphere of liveliness clings like a third skin. The second being who you present yourself as currently to the naked eye. And the first still shrouded in a fog of oil-slick mystery. But no matter, you're here! A little-lot worse for wear, but alive no less! Despite all the trails and tribulations you've slogged through, your heart still beats and your lungs still take in air. But whether that stays the case for long.. Well, we'll just have to see what the cards fate will deal.

PUBLICLY KNOWN FACTS:

Name: Coen Hummel

Appearance: Two sides of the same coin. From scraggly, roughed up investigator to a regular joe that's just trying to get around. Coen's capable of dressing to the nines if a situation calls for it. But if he's being honest, there's far more comfort in wearing in the basics. He can stand tall, but prefers to slouch. Will always be wearing black gloves. Has the full facial hair set that's usually taken care of quite meticulously.

Background: Single child raised in the Midwest. Run-of-the-mill childhood in a steady household. Fortunate enough to discover a deeply founded passion early on, though it's led him down a narrow path in life. Never got married, but certainly had a child. Was dealt the misfortune of never being able to watch his son grow as an adult. Both his then partner and child were tragically taken in a hit and run. Grief has walked with him ever since. Even as he sorts himself out. Quits relying on booze to numb everything, keeps an eye on what he eats. An ache stays as a callous in his soul despite his sunny ( if not a little crazy ) disposition.

Is anosmatic ( i.e. unable to smell / has impacted taste ), but never lets it stop him from being a foodie. Note — he is known to purposely partake in the weirdest combinations known to mankind.

Will always make up a different reason for why he wears gloves all the time. Yes, they're all very stupid.

Is completely blind in the left eye, but has several prosthetics. Refuses any help concerning advanced technology to restore sight.

Has a dog named Boatmeal. Endearingly nicknames him Bo. Certified emotional support dog & scent training.

WHAT'S BURIED UNDERNEATH .

Birth name: Boudewijin Bekker

Cause for gloves: ** tw: self-mutilation start** The back of his hands had been marked with something related to Stoneage Industries growing up. Once he defected, he couldn't stand the sight of them. He depersonalized extremely bad and severed the skin off the back of his hands, got some skin grafts smacked on, and now has some really gross scars. Hence, the gloves. **tw: self-mutilation end**

HISTORY HIS HEART KNOWS ( PRIVATE ) .

Growing up with a single father is hard; even harder, still, when said father was half drowned in debt. Boudewijin was forced to grow up faster than his peers. He had to be scrappy and figured out ways to help his father wherever he could. Admittedly, his father wasn’t a perfect person or parent; most of the time he numbed their shitty situation with the promise of liquor. And, yes, there were times where he was a little heavy handed with him if he did something foolish, but they both loved each other all the same.

Nothing could have prepared Boudewijin when his father fell ill. They couldn’t afford the treatment required, and he had to stand witness to the slow decline of his father’s health. The man went from being a sizable man to bone thin in the matter of months. And one day Boudewijin didn’t see him at all. At the time, he’d thought that his father was working overtime – that he’d be back home later or sometime during the night. Then one day became two, and then two became three… Worried, he called everyone that knew his father, but his answer wasn’t brought to light until the police arrived at his doorstep by the fourth night.

**tw: suicide start**

Suicide, they had said. The evidence was clear with the note left in the passenger seat, and the pistol gripped in his father’s hand. Boudewijin was barely at ten the time. And the only damning grace is the organization that plucked him from the system.

**tw: suicide end**

HISTORY AS HE KNOWS IT ( IN STONEAGE RECORDS ) .

It's believed that Boudewijin would succeed. No, he might not have been the strongest or most agile, but there was undeniable grit. The refusal to give up and stay down. Wherever he was sent to, whatever task he was given to complete. He always came shambling back in pieces, hardly breathing but still very much alive. It wasn't until his early thirties did things flip.

What should have been an unlikely but harmless friendship grew into something more. Something far more steadfast than allowed. He tried to keep it casual. Tried to make it clear that they'd never work under his then alias and fake background. But she was just as stubborn as him, and after some time they were gifted with the absolute apple of their eyes — their son, Morgan.

Life was bearable then — just for a short year, at least. Boudewijin thought he took all the right measures to keep them safe and out of Stoneage's view. But he should've known better. It was the exact same blind faith that brought him misfortune in the worst of ways. Someone caught wind and sparked a wildfire to regain control. Snip any thought of freedom in the bud before there's even a whisper of rebellion.

His partner and son disappeared into thin air. The only warning he got was that they knew. None of the details were spared. Didn't have to be when Boudewijin knew it was a test of fidelity, but that didn’t staunch the outrage. Naturally, he bent to their will — hoping, praying that they were safe and left alone. But no news ever came of their fate. No matter how long he waited.. and waited.. and waited.

They were never seen or heard from again.

Something snapped, then. Deep seated hatred accelerated its roots and consumed him, but again — he was no fool. A one man riot would’ve been a suicide mission. So he waited once more. This time with his ears strained to catch wind of the perfect time and escape.

Boudewijin put forth his all when the plan went into effect. If the unkindly grace of fate wanted to have him drop dead then so be it. There was hardly any worth to his life. Yet he somehow survived those sent after him; not without significant bodily damage but still very much alive and kicking.

HISTORY BEING WRITTEN ( THE BEGINNING OF 'DEAR DIARIES' ).

Normalcy never fully settles back his life, as his days will forever be plagued with unrest. The pristine visage he once carried so proudly diminished into a mere husk of vanity. Somehow, by some miracle, he retained enough of a drive to change things up. Leave behind who he once was — who he'd become — and start anew as Coen Hummel, a man that's barely skirting by life. Although he might be with a new identity, he knows better this time. Keeps a close eye on those around him. Pays extra attention to what might lurk around every corner and shadow. Waits patiently but prepared for those still looking for him.