#neglected sister au

[witherby]

Heyyyyy how are ya 😼 I have an idea for angst (Although this has already been done by many authors but I'm curious see how you approach this kind of like concept)

"Neglected... Batsis.... Reader..."

(this is totally not me just manifesting for more neglected batsia content)

-🌭

Hotdog. Dog that's hot. Oblong tube of meat that sits on a bun. As long as you're okay with it not being Yandere, I'll give almost anything a shot.

Lonely in a Crowded Room

Platonic!Batfamily x Daughter!Reader

Content warnings: emotional neglect, isolation, hyper-independence as a coping mechanism

Masterlist is Here!

Your family loves you.

Your family does not have time for you.

Both of these things are true at the same time.

Your mother had abandoned you at the gates of the Wayne manor when you were an infant, leaving nothing but a note telling Bruce your name, her name, and that you were his biological daughter. After taking another DNA test for himself to be sure, Bruce accepted his role as your father and took you in.

Sometimes you wonder how different your life would be if he'd just admitted he didn't have the time to raise you and left you at an orphanage, where another couple looking to care for a child could devote their energy to you instead. You wonder if you'd be better off than you are now.

The thing is, nothing is really wrong. You're clothed, fed, sheltered, and if there's an emergency you are swiftly taken care of. You just don't have any kind of connection to your family.

Bruce gave it his best effort when you were a baby, when you needed more attention. Batman patrolled less often in the night whenever you had a bad time staying asleep. He bottle fed you, he read you bedtime stories, and he would bring you to Wayne Tower with him sometimes and keep you busy with toys while he worked. As you grew older, however, and started developing a sense of independence, that easy attention got harder and harder to get. Suddenly he was needed for a case, or there was an event Bruce Wayne needed to make an appearance at, or one of your brothers needed his insight during investigations of their own.

And, well, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of one. You learned to share his attention, choosing to be the polite daughter that could learn to fix her own problems, and eventually that meant to Bruce that you didn't need attention at all. You couldn't ever find the courage to correct him, to ask him to make space for you. So, still seeking emotional fulfillment, you tried to turn to your brothers instead.

Dick was unfailingly kind. He'd even remarked once that he always wanted a little sister, which was nice. But he was an adult by the time you entered the picture. He had his own life outside of the Manor, living in Blüdhaven and patrolling as Nightwing and maintaining a day job for the BPD. His already limited free time was spent for himself, chasing downtime he often desperately needed, and you didn't want to make him give that up for you.

Jason didn't come around the Manor as a rule. He had bad blood with your dad, and while he didn't explicitly take it out on you, unfortunately you live with Bruce, and so he just wasn't around enough for you to form any solid attachment. Plus, he's clearly got his own stuff going on, and likely doesn't have the time nor will to get to know you. You haven't tried to reach out and neither has he, which is enough of an answer about how he feels in regards to having a little sister.

Tim was kind of like Bruce. He had far too many prior engagements and duties to fulfill, from acting as current CEO of both Wayne Enterprises and Drake Industries, to moonlighting as Red Robin, to attending college and working on his degree. He'd give you a sweet smile and gently ruffle your hair if he caught you in passing, but then he had to focus on the rest of his daily goings on. Trying to catch Tim to talk was like trying to hold water in a cracked cup. He just slips right by you.

And Damian... Damian did not particularly like you. At least, not at first. He came into the picture a couple years after you were dropped off at the Manor. You suspect he felt threatened about there being another blood-relative in the house, and made every attempt to communicate to you that he wasn't happy with your presence. But, as you grew older, when the topic of secret identities and their nighttime work came up, you surprised everyone by showing no interest in taking up the mantle. You did not want to be Robin, or a bat of any kind for that matter, and that seemed to really mellow your brother out. His perceived competition wasn't even competing, and his hostility was for naught.

Now, he doesn't really give you the time of day. It took a while for you to understand that it wasn't malicious anymore. You know now that he's ashamed of his prior actions and doesn't know how to make amends. You've tried to bridge that gap for him, make it easier by showing that you hold no ill will, but either his pride or his stubbornness refuse to take the olive branch you're practically dropping in his lap.

So, you can't get emotional fulfillment from your dad or any of your older brothers. If you can't go to them, maybe you can turn to Alfred. He was a patriarchal figure, always tending to one thing or another and looking after Bruce and his sons after patrol. He didn't patrol himself, so maybe he'd have the time to spend with you.

And he did! He sure did. It just...wasn't quite what you wanted. Alfred was a former British Intelligence operative, and raised Bruce under the complicated duality of both a guardian and a commanding officer. He obviously knew how to talk to you like a normal civilian, because that's what you are, but it was overly formal. He was holding you at arm's length because he didn't know how to relate to you. You were familiar strangers, at best, and you felt that's all you'd ever be despite your best efforts.

So. No one is cruel to you. They are kind, they smile, they ask you how you're doing and genuinely seem to care about the answer. That's not the problem.

You know your family loves you.

You know your family does not have time for you.

Both of these things are true.

You just wish you weren't so terribly lonely.

[brawberryz]

Goodbye World

BatFam Yan! × Neglected Magic Girl! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

Pt: 1 2

"(NAME), PLEASE DON'T GO!"

the girl screamed trying to stop her, this couldn't be happening, this shouldn't have happened, I was supposed to have more time but your transformation accelerated

"I'm sorry, ######, but there's no time left... sorry"

"Please (Name)!, don't go..."

The girl felt tears falling from her face, she was supposed to save you but she made the same mistake again...

"Goodbye"

You gave her one last smile before falling to the ground and your body began to deform

"(NAMEE)!"

The girl screamed for the last time before your vision went dark, there was no more pain or suffering, you felt like your body was deformed but you couldn't feel or do anything it was like you only had your conscience left

The original (name) had disappeared forever, and there was nothing else to do

Or well, maybe there was something they could do

_

Bruce was sitting in front of the batcomputer trying to find any trace of you, but there was nothing, not even a trace, it was like you had vanished in the wind

He felt too bad since your last interaction with you, if he had known what would happen he would never have let you go from that hug

But it's just "would have" it was too late to regret but he could still fix things, he would find you and take you home with everyone else and finally have the family you always dreamed of

"We found nothing, not a single clue"

Richard entered the batcave feeling defeated Again, he went out with the whole family to look for some clue but there was nothing, they even tried to see if some villain had you kidnapped but there was no one who knew about you

"This is shit"

Jason said angrily while leaning against a wall, as much as he didn't want to admit it in a way it was his fault he always treated you badly and insulted you

You had too many reasons to leave the mansion and hate all of them, but if he was honest he hated the feeling that you had left, you are supposed to be a family and you should stay together

Wherever you are they will find you and when they do they will never let you escape from their hands again

"And Tim?"

Bruce asked without taking his eyes off the Batcomputer, he hated feeling like he couldn't be in control, not having control over you, like he always had

"He decided to stay a little longer to patrol and see if he found something"

Jason said putting his hands in his jacket pockets, wherever you are he just hoped you were okay although knowing how Gotham is, it would be a miracle if you were okay without a single scratch

"I'm leaving here"

Damian spoke as he walked angrily out of the batcave, a part of him was angry with you and with himself, he was angry with you because you abandoned him without even saying goodbye or giving him reasons, you decided to hide and not tell anyone

He hated having things hidden from him, and at the same time he was angry with himself for how he treated you in the past, but he had changed he swears! When you get back to the mansion she'll be the best sister you've ever seen

"Damian, wait-"

Richard tries to stop him but Damian just pushes him out of his way before yelling at him

"SHUT UP, I don't plan on staying here even a minute longer.(Name) is lost somewhere in this stupid city and all we do is stay here like idiots"

Damian said angrily as he quickly left the batcave

Richard just sighed, when Damian had something in mind there was nothing that would stop him from reaching it, not even his own family

_

Damian walked angrily down the hallway of the mansion cursing under his breath

He continued walking until a door caught his attention, it was half open and he could barely see the small light coming out

Curious, he decided to open it, he was surprised when he realized it was your room...

It was small but still well decorated, it bothered him a little that your room was so far away from the others

He didn't want to invade your privacy (if he wanted to) but the curiosity about your things was too great, he began looking in your drawers but only found unfinished crafts or clothes

It seemed strange to him that all your clothes were still in their place, if the theory that you ran away was true you should have brought some clothes, but everything was completely in order

As he continued looking he found a photo album, it seemed old since it had some dust

He removed the dust that it had and decided to open it, there was almost nothing interesting just photos of you, some from when you were little and others from your birthdays

But there was one that caught his attention, you were in a park with a girl, it seemed to him It was strange that you had left since you never left the mansion

He was also very bothered by the approach that girl had with (name), who did she think she was to touch her sister like that?

But if he was honest, in that photo you really looked happy...

You didn't have that forced happiness like in all the photos, in this one it was seen that you really felt happy with that strange girl

He put aside the album and went back to searching through your things to see if he could find something else

Some of your drawers were full of board games full of dust, he remembered that once you asked him to play one with you but he simply ignored you and said that you had time for children's games

A soft voice took him out of his thoughts

"What are you doing in (name)'s room?"

Cassadran asked, looking at Damian with doubt. She thought it was strange that he was in your room since she thought she was the only one besides Alfred who knew your room.

"Something that doesn't matter to you."

Damian answered abruptly as he continued searching through your drawers.

"You seem too worried about her to be going through her things without permission."

Cassadran spoke again. She thought it was strange that none of the family members were around the house, but she didn't pay much attention and decided to go to your room to greet you. But she was surprised when she found Damian searching through your things.

"So what? It doesn't matter now that (name) is missing. I don't think it will bother her. Besides, it's for research purposes."

Damian was getting tired of Cass's insistence, because out of nowhere he is so worried about his privacy. Were you two close?

"Missing?"

Cassadran repeated in surprise, that answer hit Cass hard, she never imagined it would really happen, were you able to leave the mansion? Although if she was honest you had reasons to leave this fucking place

"Yes, my sister is missing and apparently I'm the only one who cares about her and tries to find some clue, so go away you're just bothering me"

Damian let out a snort of annoyance before resuming his search through your things

"She's your sister now?"

That answer took Damian by surprise, what the hell was she referring to

"What..."

"She's your sister now?" Cass repeated again before speaking again "you always left her aside, well, everyone left them aside and I include myself but it seems hypocritical to me that you want to blame others when you are also guilty, you always look to blame others for your problems because you are an egocentric and selfish person who only thinks about himself, you don't care about her you just want to have a reason not to feel bad about yourself"

Those words left Damian speechless, he hated to admit it but she was right although he would never admit it out loud

He simply looked away and focused on continuing to search pretending as if Cassandra's words hadn't mattered to him

Cass turned around and left the room before giving Damian one last look

Deep down she hoped you were okay wherever you were, but if you were truly lost she was going to do whatever it took to find you, she wasn't going to allow herself to lose another important thing for her, not anymore

_

Tim was jumping from building to building trying to find some clue about you, but there was nothing. He had been investigating criminals, villains or gangs all night but no one knew anything about you.

At this point the guilt was drowning him, he felt like the worst brother in the world. How could he forget someone so important?

Most likely you are now in some dangerous place, alone and scared thinking that no one will go looking for you because you are not important enough for them.

But he will do everything possible to find you, I promise.

He decided to stop at the top of a tall building so he could rest. He felt the worst. He had been patrolling all over Gotham for more than 4 hours but had found nothing. At this point he felt like he would never find you. No...no, if he found you he should not lose hope. You were somewhere in this place...he just had to find out where.

He felt something fast approaching him. Before he could react correctly and dodge it, a supernatural force ended up throwing him against the fire escape of another building.

Shit... that hurt, he was sure he broke his back or some rib, that thing that pushed him had too much force, it was clear that it was not a criminal or villain, they were too fast and strong to be one

But before he could get up he saw how a black mass with a strange figure approached quickly

It was easily the size of a damn bus or bigger, whatever it was was not human, that black mass reminded him too much of someone, he felt that he knew that figure from somewhere

But before he could think that large figure ended up hitting him again

It seemed as if that thing had something personal with him like some kind of hatred or resentment

Tim tried with all his strength to recover from that last blow, he had to warn the others about this thing and to come quickly before this strange creature taken from a horror story finished him off

With his last strength he grabbed the communicator and sent a signal for help before that thing hit him again now with more force causing his body to hit a wall

It seems you already have your first victim in your hands, you were going to finish off all those who made you feel miserable and you were going to make them feel the same pain that they made you feel

The original (name) had already died, the only thing left was this creature full of resentment and hatred

You were going to destroy every person who stood in your way and if that meant having to destroy the city or the world you were going to do it

"MADOKA PLEASE DON'T GO" aahhh reference 😭🙏💀

Sorry if it's too short or something, I hope you enjoy this shitty chapter

You can leave me questions or anything about this AU, I'll be happy to answer them🙏

[russetruse]

I know I don’t post writings here often, but I wanted to write something for @lizadale’s Dimigi!au. I don’t know Libby if you dream about the Dimigi!au but sometimes I do. I blame you sis. But also I added a lot more since you read the smaller version, enjoy almost 3k words on only part one of many.

Sorry it is written in 2nd person, but I blame Libby for getting me to only function in this style of writing but I can’t seem to write in any other prospective anymore lol.

I color coded characters, but what sucks is that this one doesn’t have black so I can’t use one of my original colors for characters speak. So the color I planned for one character had to move to the heart and the hearts color was originally black >:[ But I hope you enjoy.

Calamitous Revelry

Part I

Luigi Prov

CW/TW: Trauma, abuse, triggers on abuse, mentions on drowning/strangulation

You run your fingers through his greasy, tangled hair. Every time he goes on a mission, it seems he neglects basic bodily functions. The longer he’s off on one of his Merloo missions, the more worried you become. It brings you back to the days of the Castle, how he only seemed to eat when the other members were shoving food in his face at the required meetings. Even back then, his mask didn’t hide much from you. He had long given up before joining that group. It just frustrated you so much, he puts his own well being always being last on his list.

”Can you be more gentle?” He spoke very softly, but the voice cuts through the silence. His fragile, small body, leaning against the frame of the claw foot bathtub. It knots your stomach seeing him like this. Why did he always do this? Why was being away from you for any extended amount of time so collapsing to his mental state? Were you the only thing keeping him from self-destructing?

”Sorry. You really knotted your hair this time. I am trying my best to be gentle.” You reply softly, not wanting to cause him to jump and flee. This was close to being just as bad as when you found him almost dead in the deteriorating remains of Castle Bleck. Dimentio being caked in blood and dirt. You were hardly able to handle how much came off of him then, but even this was trying to match up to that day. Right now, the bath water was darker than your tan skin. You click your tongue, a Dio habit that you had seemed to pick up sometime throughout the course of living with him. Very glad that you had rolled up your sleeves above your elbows before even starting to wash him. And the water being this dirty before you even started to actually scrub his body! You click your tongue again in annoyance and frustration.

You knew Dimentio wanted to teleport away. Especially after he walked into the house. Well walked was even an understatement. He half floated, half dragged his feet across the threshold when he opened the door to your entrance. You swore he was going to collapse there in the entrance if you hadn’t been there to grab him and hold him with your own weight.

What shocked you more was the jester actually complained as you fondled him in worry, going down your own checklist in your head as you did so. First, checking him for injuries since he did have some blood caked on his clothes, and you weren’t sure if that blood was his or another’s. Which raised even more questions that you knew he wouldn’t divulge answers to you. So giving up on even prying into the matter, you scoop him up bridal style, and rush him up the stairs. Your lips placing kisses on his scars around his left eye, making sure to not miss a spot and to distract him from what you had planned ahead.

He started struggling in your grasp as you started running warm water in the tub of the finished guest room and declothed him. The caked on clothes were a pain to get off of his dirtied skin. Through the frustration of removing the clothes piece by piece, you confirmed at least most of the blood on his clothes were not his. Which did not lighten the feeling of comfort you wanted from his return, it concerned you more. Whose blood was this and did they deserve such injuries from him? But you shake your head, another series of questions you would not get answers to. You needed to get him clean before you would even get any chance to put food in his system. Let alone would your mind allow you to put him on the back burner and cook food when you knew he needed to be cleaned up right away.

The jester complained as you worked on completely bringing him down to his birthday suit, still double checking for any injuries that may need stitches or extra care. He complained to you until you submerged him into the warm bath water, that’s when his demeanor changed. He then held onto you as if his life depended on it. As if the water in the tub would drag him below the water's surface and take his last breath. You also knew if you looked away, he would quickly teleport away. And your goal to get him cleaned up would long be abandoned.

It takes you way too long to comb out the knots and grime out of his hair, but this makes you feel a bit better. Well, until you wrap your arm around him; your forearm resting across his chest and placing your hand under his armpit. It always takes you by surprise at how tiny he is, not just in height, but in size. Your body is giant compared to him. And you were use to being called “too skinny”, but even you didn’t complain to the man you held in your arms.

You lean forward, and with your free hand, you begin to drain the dirty water in the tub. You really needed to replace it with fresh, warm water. His body tenses at the water starting to run again to refill the tub. The jesters heart was beginning to race in a panic from this. You press him tighter to you, slowly soaking your own shirt. What good did you get from rolling up your sleeves to only press a wet twink to your chest. But still, you do not let him pull away, hoping that he can feel your heartbeat through the wool top. Yet you also hope that he doesn’t feel the Chaos Heart beating as well in your chest.

”I am NOT letting you go.” You whisper softly into his right ear, your mustache tickling it. Dimentio squirms in your grasp, fighting his own instincts to flee. Every nerve he had, you knew told him to get away quickly. You bring your lips to his ear, pecking it with a soft kiss. His body squirms more at his own signals being challenged. A challenge to fight staying and be adored by you or flee due to the rising water in this situation.

”I won’t let you drown.” You speak sternly to him, not sure if it was in assurance for you or him. You start to nibble on his ear, your free hand grabbing the washcloth and rinsing it under the spout.

You can feel his fingernails dig into your arm as the water rises above his hips. You wince at this, but start to scrub the dirt and grime off of his legs and feet. You take extra time on his swollen ankles in another attempt to calm him. Letting your hand through the wash cloth slowly message his swollen ankles to make sure he didn’t do more damage to them then what appeared on the surface. You find yourself at a loss when you run the washcloth over his ribs. Your stomach turns seeing the jester's ribs through his skin so easily that you could count every one of them. It upsets you so much that he is neglecting himself when he is away from you.

”Luigi.”

You grumble, tightening your grip, mumbling under your own breath. Why was he like this? Why was he so willing to throw his life away? So many cared for him. He had more worth than he thought or believe he had.

”Luigi!”

You can feel your own anger bubbling and building in your body.

No one.

No one.

Not even yourself. Not even in the dreamscape. Not even against the chaos heart, or even in your own dreams, were you willing to throw your life away so easily. A growl builds in your throat and comes out through your own words. “Why are you like this?”

“Lui!”

Thu-Thump…

You freeze up, your body stiffens at your own thoughts. Only Dimentio was ever able to rile up so much negative emotions in you. King boo wasn’t even able to do this to you.

“Lui-“

Thu-Thump.

You feel his fingernails claw at both of your arms now. Digging deep enough to draw blood.

Thu-THUMP.

The nails dig deeper and deeper into your arms, clawing down from your elbows to your hands. With what little nails the jester had left, were tearing at your arms. You knew he feared water, but this was ridiculous at how much he was trying to get out of being cleaned by you. You tighten your grip to this, growling loudly in frustration and anger at Dimentio.

THU-THUMP!

Water splashes onto your pants, snapping you out of your own thoughts. The buzzing sound in your ears is replaced with the sound of splashing. Your eyes widen in shock as you quickly pull your hands away from his neck. Your arms and hands dripping from blood from the number he did on you.

You watch him in worry and shock as the ancient quickly yanks himself from under the water's surface. Dimentio’s body was shaking uncontrollably from fear, coughing and gasping from the need of oxygen that deprived him. You were unsure of how long you had held him under, but the water he was coughing up said enough. His lungs were trying their hardest to clear the water that you had forced into them. The ancients eyes never leave your bloody, shaking hands.

No…

No.

No! You would never do that to him.

Never!

THU-THUMP!

You can hear the heart beating loudly in your ears and chest.

”I’m sorry Dio. I-It wasn’t me,” you stutter though a shaky voice, “I promise. It was th-“

You reach your shaking hands towards him in assurance. But the second you do, the familiar sounds of the jester teleporting away before you can even finish your explanation. Your eyes now staring at a bodiless bathtub full of fresh water, with swirls of red in it.

”C-Chaos H-Heart….” You finish, your voice trailing off to a soft whisper.

THU-Thump…

You let your arms drop to your sides in disbelief. The heart had found another opening, this time by your emotions. It had taken advantage of your emotional loophole, and went after what was the biggest threat to it. The one you loved…

It wasn’t you. You would never do that to him.

Never…

Never!

The image of Dio’s scared. No, scared was an understatement. He was terrified. And when you closed your eyes, that expression from Dimentio showed on the back of your eyelids. The bathtub overflowing, starting to soak your jeans and socks.

You needed to fix this. But could you even fix it? You stand, ignoring the tub overflowing and slowly flooding the bathroom. Your soaked socks splash in the water as you walk over to the sink, ignoring your own discomfort. You pick up the phone with shaky hands. You were having such trouble dialing the number correctly on the keypad, that you changed to your call list and clicked the forth or fifth recent call down.

You lift the cell to your ear and after a few rings you hear an ecstatic voice that didn’t match the feelings you were having right now.

”Gigi! It’s been a while. What-“

”Mimi. I fucked up badly. I need Nassy’s help, now. It’s too much to explain. Please…Please tell her it’s urgent.”

”That bad? I’ll get a hold of her ASAP. Keep your door unlocked Gigi. You better be ready to explain then.” You hear the phone click to Mimi hanging up and you drag yourself out of the bathroom. Your wet socks slush against the carpet of your guest room, and you force yourself down the steps. The house sounds oddly silent, except for the sound of what you believe is still the bathtub running. You must have forgotten to turn off the water, but you don’t seem to have the energy to bring yourself back up the stairs.

You bring yourself to the couch and work on removing your drenched socks. Your hands are shaking so badly that the simple task is more of a challenge than it should be. You discard your socks on the floor near you and you pull your legs up to you on the couch, making yourself as small as your body would allow you to.

You bring your eyes to your hands. Your hands rough with calusis from all the tinkering and hard work you did, middle class work. Though it had been a while since you had seen blood oozing from them. You shake your head.

His body was so small, so fragile. He was so easy to force under the water with your hands. It was even easier to wrap your fingers around his thin throat and start squeezing. He would have been easy to break, easy to finish off. You could snap him like the twig he was. Would anyone really miss him? Didn’t he deserve to be dead? He still attempted to go after IT. He still wanted to go after his original goal with the heart. He wasn’t a fighter, he was weak in that aspect. You could so easily break him, all you would have to do is grab his neck and snap it. He deserved that.

“Enough!” You yell to no one in particular, grabbing at your own greasy hair. Heck there were times you would have never fought those thoughts after everything he had put you through, but these thoughts weren’t your own. You growl at yourself for letting the heart dig into your thoughts and emotions over Dimentio. He confused you so much and had your emotions everywhere. You had anger towards him, frustration, confusion, annoyance, but most of all…you loved him.

Thu-Thump.

You grasp your shirt above your own heart. You couldn’t imagine a day without him anymore. You wanted to spoil him with affection that he was long deprived of. You wanted to show him what the world should have long given him. You so badly wanted to let him figure out what the true meaning of his emotions towards you were. Why did this relic have to be such a problem, and everyday you were losing more and more to it. You bite your bottom lip. You couldn’t lose to it, so many would fall if you lost. It would return to where it was taken from. It would reopen the void that you had worked so hard with your friends to close. If you could rip it out yourself and stop it from what it was made to do you would, but you were already told what that outcome would be.

A loud bang on the door causes you to jump from the couch, almost hitting your head on the ceiling from surprise. Only for the silence to be followed by the door slamming open before you can even take a step towards the entrance. The voice booming louder than the door hitting the wall or knocking combined.

“Ye here lad? We rush’t here as fas’ as we coud. Dimensoon stil’ a’ problem withoot tae wee yin crossin’ tae gap fir us.”

[dreamersbcll]

“I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule”

- whumptober, prompt no. 24

(goodbye, goodbye, goodbye)

—————————————————————————

Dear Mom,

I’ve started this letter so many times that I’m sure permanently smeared ink will be embedded in my skin.

There was an outline, a plan even for this letter. I’ve structured it over and over to get it right. But I suppose there is no right way to say goodbye, is there?

Well, I’ve spoiled it. This is a goodbye letter of sorts. I’m not really sure who I’m saying goodbye to anymore. Which mother will be reading this piece of paper?

Will it be the mother you were before I turned nine? I miss her, you know. You were so sweet in the beginning. I still hold myself at night to remember your presence. I know Sam loves to touch, but you were big on touch, Mom. You taught us how to be gentle and leave gentle markings.

Do you remember the night you first read “Mi Burro enfermo” to us? I remember it—every single second. I remember you holding me tight, letting my chubby fingers touch the crinkled pages. Sam was pressed into my side, and you held us both, kissing our heads as Sam read to me. You would correct her ever so gently and praise her every time she got a word right. I think I was three. Even that young, I remember it all.

What happened there? When did you stop reading to us? Where did the mother with the kind hands and the sweet smile go? Why did you stop making our lunches and taking us to the bus stop?

Why did you start drinking?

I mean, we were not enough anymore? Mom, I was six. Six years old and helping Sam drag you inside so you didn’t freeze out on the front lawn. I remember learning how to make you throw up, just in case you stopped responding. Sam had to teach me to call 911 and check for your pulse. I was six, Mom. Six!

Did you ever think of us, what this would do to us? God, I know having a child born from a serial killer is terrible, but isn’t child neglect worse? I don’t know why you did this to us. I wonder every single day if I deserved that. You were my mami. I love you. Why couldn’t you love us?

Why couldn’t you love me

I know I cried a lot. I know I was noisy. I know I was too much. But I was a child—a baby. I didn’t know better. I just wanted my mami to love me again.

But your jealousy, god, I can still see it now. You always talked down to me as if I would always be around and be your little pawn. All I wanted was to love you. I wanted to love you and be loved back. But you pushed my love away like it was a loaded gun- and pushed me down time and time again. All you did was hold me underwater, breaking my resolve until I was a shell of myself.

Dad leaving was tough. I know. I saw. But I lived that too- I was there. I was eight years old, mom eight! I know he left, and I know he hurt you, even if you didn’t love him like you loved Billy. But why couldn’t you ever think about us?

First, you left me, then Dad, then Sam. You had to know that Sam going was the final straw. You had to hear me cry and scream, and break things. I know you saw me, red-eyes and shaking, begging for someone to stay. I remember those nights when I begged you to love me again. I was thirteen. God, was I stupid.

It really was no surprise that I would run. I’m just surprised that it took me so long. I mean, it's clear that I’m a masochist, constantly begging for love from empty people. I just can’t believe it took me this long to buck up.

But it was because of Sam. Never you. Don’t ever get that twisted. I never would’ve left if it wasn’t for her coming back. I was invested, Mom; I was going to stay in that stupid little town and take care of your sorry ass. God. I’m so glad I’m writing this now to tell you goodbye.

That’s right. Yeah. I’m leaving with Sam. We’re going to be far away from this hellhole of a town. I will never step foot in this town again, and I will never walk back into this house.

I don’t care what you think. If I wrote this a year ago, maybe I would feel guilty. But all I have left for you is rage. I can’t give you my sorrow or hurt anymore. It’s just red-hot rage.

The questions I have for you won’t get answered. I know that you were never keen on tying up loose ends. But don’t worry, your questions will never be answered either. I’m done with you.

Fuck you, Mom. Fuck you for all you’ve done to me.

Yet, I still love you. You’re my mom. I have a big sister who means more to me than you’ll ever know- but you’re still my mom. You’ll still be a part of me.

But you will never touch me again. Ever. Sam will make sure of that.

Goodbye, mom. Good luck.

Don’t forget to stick your fingers down your throat.

Love

From, Tara.

Putting the pencil down, Tara sighed deeply, her eyes closing. She roughly rubbed her face, trying to push the worry out of her skin. There was no reason to carry it around anymore.

Down the hall, she could hear Sam shuffling about, collecting the last of Tara’s bags.

“Are you ready to go, baby?” Sam called, lightly knocking on the door.

Flashing a smile at her big sister, Tara nodded.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Tara calls back, hastily shoving the letter into an envelope.

Staring at the blank envelope, she pondered what to write. Christina felt too formal, but mom didn’t feel right. Taking the pen out, she scribbled a quick word on it and stuck the pen behind her ear.

Mami

As she left the room, she stared at the propped up envelope, wondering if it would ever be read.

Maybe. Maybe not. She wouldn't worry about it anymore. It was time to move forward.

[krikeymate]

I'm thinking about a bigger age gap.

Sam's 10 years old and spoilt rotten when her mother discovers she's pregnant. She doesn't realise for the longest time, never really shows much signs until the end, and by the time she does, it's too late. She doesn't know who the father is, it could be her husband, it could be... well, there were others. The baby's small, comes out early, and who's to say when she was conceived. She has her mother's complexion, her dark hair and dark eyes, and Christina gets to keep on lying.

Sam's not sure about the baby at first, everyone made it sound like things would change so much once it got here. But things don't really change at all. Her mother still always has time for her, and she isn't kept awake all night from screaming. Her parents are a little more tense, but it doesn't seem to change anything for Sam at all.

One night, Sam can't sleep. She's awake thinking of all they learned in class. About pregnancies, and babies, and all their needs and how to look after them. She can't stop thinking about it, there's just this voice in the back of her head nagging her, telling her there was something wrong, but she can't quite figure it out. It feels important.

Her feet find her way to the baby's room.

It's cold, the window's open, the room lit up from a nearby streetlamp. The tiny thing is awake with its hand in her mouth, big brown eyes staring up at her. Sam finds she can't look at them for long, it makes something in her chest ache. She doesn't know why.

She reaches out to touch the baby instead, she's icy cold. Sam thinks of what they learned in class, how much babies cry to tell us what they need, how often they need to eat, how they can't regulate their body temperature. She drags her fingers down its chest and thinks of how quiet it always is, how it never cries. How little her parents seem to feed her compared to how much her teacher said they should.

The thing whimpers when she draws her hand away, and in an instant, her hand is back on its chest, fingers spread against the bare skin, the cold suffocating out her warmth. She doesn't know what possesses her to do it, but she picks the baby up, careful to support her head the way they taught her in class. It's so small and light in her arms, she almost feels like a doll.

She watches the way it suckles on its own fingers and wonders when she was last fed. Mother fed her at breakfast, and again at dinner. She wonders if there was anything in between, there's a heaviness in her stomach as her brain goes no. She doesn't know what mother does when she's at school, but something inside of her is certain she knows what the answer isn't.

So Sam carefully creeps down the stairs, baby in her arms, determined to feed it. She's watched her mother make the formula before, curious, she thinks she can manage it. She puts the baby on the armchair, and takes the blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around her, making a nest so the baby can't fall. It whines again when Sam puts her down, but Sam hushes her softly and tells her she'll be right back. The baby can't understand, but it felt right to say.

She makes up a bottle, and checks the temperature, and returns to the armchair. She picks the baby up and settles herself down and tugs the blanket over her lap. The baby drinks the bottle so fast that Sam's worried it might choke, the way she does when she chugs down her own drinks. But the baby finishes the bottle and it feels like there's a balloon in her chest when it yawns and nuzzles against her chest, tiny hand tangling in her t-shirt.

Maybe the baby isn't so bad, she thinks, curling herself into the seat. She doesn't want to take the baby back upstairs to her cold lonely room. No, she can sleep right here in her arms, safe and warm. It feels right. She'll tell her mother in the morning about what they learned in class, remind her the baby needs to be fed more and that she's too cold. Maybe she just doesn't know. She ignores the voice in her head that says she knows.

[diabelskoga]

Smash or Pass + Nico Robin!

Send Smash or Pass + a name and my muse will say if they would smash or pass on that person. ( accepting ! )

❝ Ah, Robin? As much as I love her and adore her, I see her more of an elder sister figure, so I'd have to say pass. Doesn't stop me from appreciating her! ❞

[ponyisle]

some AJ stuff cause I've been neglecting my girl, also a bit of lore 4 my au

copy-paste lore dump from my Instagram:

Racket=Scootaloo Marbles=SweetieBelle Crumb=AppleBloom

"Dash and Racket moved onto the Smiths farm after GrannySmith and MacApple passed. Both Crumb and Jackie were understandably left depressed by this, but Jackie put on her strong Big Sister face and kept working. J quickly realized she couldn’t maintain a farm as large as theirs all by herself but the other girls were busy with their own stuff(everyone but Dash, hashtag unemployed).

Dash is very much a ‘showy’ type of pony(see: gay eyeliner, gay piercings) but as the element of L̶o̶y̶a̶l̶t̶y̶ HONESTY she honors her promise and actually helps out a lot around the farm. It’s a tough adjustment at first. She goes from living in the clouds where dirt is virtually unheard of. To living In dirt Every. Day.

Jackie and Dash butt heads A LOT in the beginning. Dash is consumed by procrastination and general Don’t Give a Fuck disease so a lot of her work to start is extremely half-assed. Racket, who obviously really looks up to Dash, started emulating that behavior and she realized she couldn’t afford to not give af especially while a goofy little gremlin is imprinting on her.

Lalala eventually they all settle into a routine and it isn’t quite the same as it used to be but their house stays a Home"

[acid-ixx]

(03/05/25) — again &. again masterlist

by the bird and the bee

ft. platonic soft! yandere batfam! x gn! neglected reader

✮ MAIN MASTERLIST ✮

— TRIGGER WARNINGS !

- lowercase writing, emotional neglect, allusions to sexual assault, prostitution & physical abuse, kidnapping, alcohol abuse, drugging, themes of depression, dissociation, vague traumatic events, mentions of murder, amnesia, other warnings would be added soon.

— SYNOPSIS !

who would have thought that living with your rich, billionaire father and endless supply of sisters and brothers would actually end up being the worst thirteen and a half year of your life?

when your mother was taken away from you at the ripe age of five, you were forced to live at the solemn wayne manor with nobody to accompany you but the butler, alfred pennyworth.

there, you learn that giving up was better than trying to gain the attention of your ever-growing family. so you left, and never once tried to look back at the decades of neglect they left you with.

but when alfred, your kind caretaker, had started leaving clues of your sudden disappearance; that's when they all take notice and then on starts the ultimate race of chasing freedom, and escaping what once was your gilded cage.

little did you know your mother's dark past manifests itself at the worst of times.

— CHAPTERS ! ; 48k+ words

00. — oh, please leave me be.

01. — because you only notice me once i'm out the door.

02. — and you don't even remember my face?

03. — i need a drink, away from everyone.

04. — mors tua, vita mea / your death, my life.

05 : 01. — a halo in the pit of darkness.

05 : 02. — to be his child is all i want.

— DRABBLES ! ; #series: again &. again

dick grayson calling you his baby bird

why now? (yan! damian wayne)

brutus (villain au concept)

brutus: out for blood

what if you were never neglected?

just a taste (yan! conner kent - suggestive)

laughter is the best medicine (yan! dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne)

to you, my greatest passion (non-neglected au-verse)

brutus: both arms cradle you now

bruce finding your graduation picture

how to be a heartbreaker! (yandere harem)

mea culpa (mini chapter)

conflicting comfort scene with jason todd

dialogue spoilers related to above drabble

more about jason todd and hurt/comfort

dick and his baby blue eyes

time travel au concept

sharing the same features with damian

brutus: the only fucked up thing in this world is you

cause you're takin' it like a champ, sweetheart! (yan! conner kent - suggestive)

brutus: just a burning memory (yan! conner kent)

young, just us?! (yan! young justice au)

that's my type! (yan! john constantine)

dick's miley cyrus eyes

you shoving their neglect in their face and it backfiring

model reader concept

— ASKS ! ; #series: again &. again

dick's spiral into yandere-ism

leaving gotham, resenting alfred, changing last names

your mysterious identity &. conner being your love interest

dick seeing you as a child & damian's need to be your favorite

damian and his cool, matching bracelets

does dick close the door on you? nah, he doesn't even know you were behind the door

wally west as your love interest

you care now?

conner as your angry, protective bf

jason trying his damn best to be a brother to you

calling bruce by his last name only

calling alfred your dad ft. jealous bruce

how are damian and jason obsessed towards you

their nicknames for you

how bruce and damian would try to bond with you

will you still go to college after being kidnapped?

will the series have a happy ending?

why does damian hurt you? and why do you justify his actions?

the family stalks you even in-game

how tim is in the series

what are the characters' ages in the series?

what if you were hypersexual?

— INCORRECT QUOTES ! ; #a&a: incorrect quotes

yan! villains kidnapping you

hostage situation

how to become a target to the wayne family

dick and you miscommunication trope in a nutshell

— FANART ! ; #a&a: fanart

happy birthday by @luffyadolover

diary by @luffyadolover

another reason they're broke &. finished art by @oh-nowo-i-got-uwu

a take on the reader's appearance by @luffyadolover

reader trying to study ft. the batfam's endless calls &. finished art by @ghostdoodlen

reader finding bruce and damian watching a movie by @luffyadolover

again &. again mv by @luffyadolover

reader and their playlist by @luffyadolover

a comic panel by @lucioleestolie

conner and reader flying through the skies by @ghostdoodlen

when all of a sudden, i hear this agitating noise by @punpunsonny

villain au reader by @lazyemmy

a&a oc: emile by @questionthegrapevine

graduation pic, conner comfort, and mirrors by @ghostdoodlen

neglected &. non-neglected reader by @lazyemmy

jason calling you his angel by @ghostdoodlen

alfred gives you a christmas gift by @luffyadolover

my own art teehee by me

male reader interpretation by @yukiyee-akian

dick being clingy by @lazyemmy

brutus reader interpretation by @plkjnb

reader cosplaying as mabel pines by @mothintheskies

— TAGLIST ! ; taglist is under construction!

@.lilyalone, @.secretomelettetroops, @.earlqurl, @.simpingfor-wakasa, @.amber-content, @.ruiroku, @.okaybutfullhomo, @.trasshy-artist, @.obsessedwithromance, @.jjsmeowthie, @.fairy-lenaa, @.ilovvmyhusband, @.6uuyuuhgy, @.plsfckmedxddy, @.lavender-moony, @.sweetheart-era, @.chemicalsandghosts, @.darling006, @.starringyau, @.samanthahanes, @.rosecentury, @.jaythes1mp, @.pi1nkl0ver, @.i-thirsty-boy, @.sharks-are-cool-l, @.silverklaus, @.samanthathanes, @.traumaramacenter, @.maddimoon, @.anxrq, @.thedarknesslord, @.h0rr0r-10ver-69, @.lazy-idate, @.cupids-pretty-boy, @.alishii, @.mel-star636, @.sitepathos, @.freakyotaku059-blog, @.dirtydiavolo, @.sunbleachedantlers, @.24hrsoflanii, @.ceramic-raven, @.une-lueur-dans-la-nuit, @.tdickensstuff4, @.thickerthanthieves, @.arlandvery, @.distressed-lezbo, @.bunbunboysworld, @.bellethesleepypotato, @.naina326, @.nebuluma, @.alliwantisadonut, @.alishii, @.kusakiguzen, @.sirenetheblogger, @.emmbny, @.ryukyuin, @.solkara, @.starsdotalk

[sunderwight]

AU where there's no system (or a decidedly less restrictive one) and Shen Yuan transmigrates into an OC rogue cultivator before the start of the novel, and decides he's gonna steal the protagonist before Luo Binghe even gets to Cang Qiong.

The logic is sound -- he'll keep Luo Binghe from experiencing neglect and abuse at Shen Qingqiu's hands, raise him away from the pressure of the sects and the likelihood that anyone else might find out about his heritage and try to harm him over it, keep him fully away from the Immortal Alliance Conference, and then Luo Binghe's course will change trajectory because he'll have no reason to want revenge against the world and no access to Xin Mo. Shen Yuan will be able to spare Luo Binghe some suffering and possibly survive in a world less subject to the harrowing whims of a half-mad tyrannical overlord. Win-win!

However, the tricky bit is that he's not sure exactly how far ahead of the novel he is, and also Airplane didn't specify where Luo Binghe grew up. This means that Luo Binghe could be any age younger than twelve and in any number of places along or near to the Luo river.

Shen Yuan decides he's going to approach this by pretending he is looking for the long-lost son of his sister, traveling through the likeliest areas, asking after abandoned children who might fit the protagonist's description. It's a long shot, he knows, and he's mostly relying on the existence of Narrative Destiny. But eventually he is directed by several people towards a particular city, which is not as close to the river as he'd have expected Luo Binghe to grow up, but then again he only knows that was where baby Binghe was found, not where the washerwoman who took him in ultimately lived.

It becomes clear to him, though, that he's been sent to the wrong target. But also why he's been sent astray is apparent in nearly the same breath, because among the slave children living in this area is a little boy who could be his much younger clone.

Seriously, this kid looks just like him! Or, well, close enough. He looks a lot like Shen Yuan's actual nieces and nephews from his past life. It's uncanny.

Also, because of his search, the slave kids get wind of what he's looking for (his long-lost nephew) pretty quick. The boy with the obvious resemblance to him greets Shen Yuan's own assessment with wary cynicism, but he's just a little boy. So it's not difficult to notice the way he's also practically vibrating with hopefulness, half-hiding behind a protective older kid and looking at Shen Yuan with big dark eyes like he expects to be rescued or destroyed with whatever he has to say next.

Shen Yuan has a big problem now. He just knows that if he says something like "actually no this boy is too old to be my nephew" or whatever other excuse, no one will believe him, and also this poor kid is going to be permanently scarred by it. He's going to think Shen Yuan is lying just so that he can reject him. On top of that, he's not in a good situation here. None of these children are even remotely well cared-for.

Shen Yuan's rogue cultivator self isn't rich on the level of being like a wealthy sect leader or anything, but he's made some money since transmigrating by doing random cultivator jobs and quests along the way here. He uses it all to purchase two little slave boys (Do Not Separate), then takes another job and uses that coin to acquire a somewhat rundown manor which used to belong to the local gentry. The Qiu family (rings some bells but that's not exactly an uncommon name) kept it up for a while in case a branch family sprung up in need of a residence, but they've been in decline and the place is downright decrepit, so they had been looking to sell it instead. It's too big for a wandering bachelor like SY to ever need on his own account, but that's sort of the idea. He makes more money taking on cultivator work, at first taking his boys along with him for lack of any alternative. Nerve-wrackingly dangerous! Eventually he hires workers to start restoring the manor, particularly setting up a yard to be a school area, and then starts taking on any freelance jobs he can get in order to steadily buy out the contracts on all the other kids. He gets it nice enough to house and care for as many orphans as he can acquire.

Not because he's a big old softie though!

His story of looking for his nephew is a bust now, since he's apparently "found" the kid. So he's got to change tactics! If he can't find baby Binghe and the washerwoman, the next best approach is to create an opportunity for them to come to him. So once he's got his new household established, he starts offering free lessons to all the local kids. Not just the ones he's taken in, but also any who come by and want to learn some things. It's a tempting setup for anyone who wants their child to get education but can't afford a tutor, and Luo Binghe's mother had been entirely the sort of person who would have packed up and left her situation if there had been an opportunity for it.

On that note, SY also starts hiring single mothers to help look after his new gaggle of children and do the work he doesn't know how to do in these times, like keeping house, laundry, cooking, actually raising kids, etc.

His "little school" is not universally popular. A few groups try and ruin him, because the poverty in the region provides a basis of business for them. The ringleaders of the human traffickers in the area don't want their trade to dry up, even if it means selling all of their merchandise for this round, so when they find out that their underlings let Shen Yuan buy off all the kids they try and intimidate him into returning them (it doesn't go well for them). The Qiu family also isn't thrilled after it becomes clear what he's doing, and get him investigated by the local authorities (read: use their bribed officials and local goons to try and interfere.)

When that doesn't work either the sects get involved, because the Qiu go crying to Huan Hua Palace that Shen Yuan is sketchy and is trying to establish his own sect. So Shen Yuan talks his way around the matter, and frankly the Qiu are small fish even if they're the biggest ones in the local pond, so HHP doesn't care to pursue things much further. (Read: SY could mop the floor with the disciples they sent to investigate him, and it's not worth it to piss off someone this mysterious and powerful just to bully some impoverished children.)

Shen Yuan is appalled by all this bullshit though. Trust the world of PIDW to make it so hard just for a guy to teach some poor kids how to read and do math!

It makes him dig in his heels about it, because he is at heart a stubborn bastard. The fires that once fueled a thousand angry screeds on zhongdian literature site is now aimed at the local magistrate. One of the women he's hired on has some dirt on the Qiu family, which leads SY to dig up some more until he eventually has enough to turn the tables on them. Local officials won't investigate because they've all been bought, but that in and of itself is of some interest to their superiors closer to the palace, and so SY arranges an investigation of his own that goes way further than he thought? Turns out there are some ugly skeletons in the Qiu closets, and the imperial investigator comes down on them hard.

Well, he can't say they didn't have it coming? Though he does feel bad for the children in the family, especially the oldest son, who gets hauled off to jail along with his father. At least the girl is sent to live with relatives. Maybe he should have done more to shield the minors in the situation...?

His kids tell him not to worry about it, though, that apparently young master Qiu was known to run people down in the streets and beat his servants and do other cartoonishly awful things. SY's not sure how much of it is true and how much of it is his little flock of fluffy sheep trying to ease his conscience, though they do all seem to take a lot of vindictive delight in the whole affair. Especially Nephew, who clings to his sleeves and loudly declares that the investigator should have publicly flogged the discredited nobles so that everyone could go watch, and then begs him for sweets as if that wasn't a creepy thing to hear come out of an eight-year-old's mouth. SY just sighs and tells him he can have something good when he finishes his calligraphy practice.

Of course, it's not exactly easy running what is basically an orphanage-slash-school (and maybe a budding sect...?), especially when pretty much all of the kids have been traumatized and faced stuff like rampant dehumanization, food insecurity, abuse, and neglect. Hiring single mothers soon becomes not only a plan to try and lure in Luo Binghe's mom, but an absolute godsend of an idea because SY has no clue WHAT he would do on his own about the discipline issues or emotional breakdowns or acting out that some of the kids get up to once it registers that they're in a safe enough place to unpack their baggage.

Apart from Nephew, SY's favorite kid is the one who came with him, the oldest of the flock of former slave children. He's the big brother of the group, the one who tries his best to look after the others and to not make any trouble himself. But even poor Little Yue is still just a kid who has been through too much, and he also eventually starts having some meltdowns and struggles with processing everything that has happened to him as a vulnerable child in an unkind world.

SY really didn't mean to start a trauma center for mistreated children!

Though, that's still not necessarily a bad thing for Luo Binghe to one day come across, provided he ever actually shows up...

Eventually, Shen Yuan does figure out that he must be ahead even of Luo Binghe's birth, though he still doesn't put together that he's interfered in the scum villain's backstory. Probably something even more amusingly obscure, like the creation year of some random artifact Luo Binghe used in some wife plot or other, tips him off and he mentally throws his hands up in the air. He's got to wait DECADES? Maybe he ought to try and find Luo Binghe's biological parents and just follow them around at this point!

Not that he can, now, though, because he has to make sure no negative IQ villains (who will probably just be cannon fodder for a subplot one day) decide to send goons to literally burn down his orphanage. Also if he's gone for too long his kids get upset. Probably because no one else is as weak to their puppy dog eyes and pleas for treats and toys as he is.

At least it gives him time to shore up his position, and train Nephew and Little Yue more extensively in cultivation. Despite his initial assurances to HHP that he was but a humble orphan wrangler who was only incidentally a cultivator, Shen Yuan does also teach the other kids some basic cultivation exercises. There are a few reasons for that.

One is just the principle of the thing. No, these kids don't all have the potential to become great immortals or anything, but they can still learn some of it and it's good for their health if they do. The only trouble is if they try and push too hard or attempt things beyond their range, and that's a risk with everyone who cultivates. Or even just exercises!

Another reason is that it helps stave off the jealousy that some of the kids have towards those with more cultivation potential. Teaching a lot of the basics all around makes it into just another topic at school. Some kids might not be as good at it as others, but those kids might also be better at math, or memorization, or board games, and while cultivation can open more doors to people as adults, for the children this is generally enough to satisfy their sense of fairness. Or at least reduce outbursts and fights.

Finally, the impression that any of SY's kids might be a cultivator also makes wicked people more reluctant to try and abduct or interfere with them. Cultivators are revered and nearly mythological figures in the public consciousness. It isn't difficult to see why, if even a rogue cultivator NPC like SY* can mop the floor with most random muggers (*Shen Yuan is not a normal rogue cultivator). Not many people want to risk bringing SY's ire down on them, but of those who might chance it if he wasn't around to immediately react, even fewer want to risk that the kids themselves could kick their asses.

Not knowing that only two of the orphans probably could in fact mop the floor with them helps keep all the rest safer, and is more believable when all of them can conduct themselves enough like disciples to fool anyone who doesn't know what to really look for.

Developments that surprise Shen Yuan but wouldn't surprise anyone else who is paying attention:

People start leaving unwanted babies and younger children on his doorstep. Not all the time, but more than once has he had to frantically find wet nurses and worry that he's changed things enough that some fishermen might just randomly drop the protagonist outside his gate, and he wouldn't even know because Binghe would be a literal infant??

Nephew (SJ) and Little Yue (Yue Qi -- only Shen Yuan calls him "Little", especially when he gets taller than SY by the time he's sixteen) are prodigies who get really good at cultivation, really fast, and between that and Shen Yuan's OP skills they completely warp Shen Yuan's ideas for what normal cultivation potential looks like. This would probably cause more problems if he wasn't teaching all the kids how to cultivate anyway, but means his students actually do kinda run the usual range of skills for a small sect.

SJ and YQ swiftly reach the point where they need more advanced equipment than just SY's teaching can provide, if they're going to keep building their skills. Gaining access to certain tools, aids, and materials (like spiritual swords) is a real hurdle though, and usually is for rogue cultivators (one of the major disadvantages of no sect affiliation.) Shen Yuan is hesitant to use stuff from the plot, since it's For Binghe, but he eventually caves and starts going after some things that he doesn't think the future protagonist will miss much. He also ends up buying stuff from HHP, since they're willing to sell things like spiritual tools and weapons if the price is right, whereas most other sects like Cang Qiong reserve them for members only.

They get an invitation to the Immortal Alliance Conference. Not the one where the Abyss opens up, obviously, the one where (originally) Shen Jiu reunited with Yue Qi and killed Wu Yanzi. Shen Yuan debates on going but the boys really want to, and things have calmed down enough that no one's trying to burn down the school whenever he leaves these days, so eventually he figures it'll be interesting to see some of the Cang Qiong characters and should be safe enough if he keeps his disciples close.

They don't run into young Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu on the trip, but Wu Yanzi does show up and get killed, and SY only hears about it and assumes they just missed all that action. (WYZ just got caught by some senior cultivators who recognized him and killed him to avenge some disciples he murdered.) Nephew and Little Yue do meet young Liu Qingge, Shang Qinghua, Mu Qingfang, and Su Xiyan though! Which gives Shen Yuan the opportunity to tell them all (mostly Su Xiyan) that if they're ever in trouble near his school, they can come to him for help. Hint hint.

This open invitation ends up being accepted broadly by a lot of traveling cultivators after the conference, who from then on treat Shen Yuan's school like a free motel whenever they're passing through. Plenty aren't even people SY met, but it seems his statement was taken as a general one to fellow righteous cultivators all around! Luckily, this has some advantages. Shen Yuan has no qualms running off anyone who tries to take unfair advantage of him or especially his kids or staff, and no shame in conscripting anyone who is decent enough to help teach his students, even if it's nothing to do with cultivating, and somehow word gets around and people start bringing school supplies, medicine, food, or other useful things along with them as gifts to help repay the hospitality. Young Liu Qingge comes by a lot on his way to and from various quests, or even seems to just turn up randomly sometimes (he comes to challenge YQ and SJ to fights), and SY's just like "I guess this is happening now" and teaches him to recognize the early signs of qi deviation and advises strongly against meditating in caves.

At one point a young Shang Qinghua turns up in one of the spare rooms, very obviously hiding an ice demon. Shen Yuan again is just like "I guess this is happening now" and shelters them until Mobei Jun has recovered, and sends a message to Cang Qiong that one of their An Ding caravans was attacked and their disciple is recovering under his roof but isn't well enough to travel yet. Much less stressful situation for Airplane (who is desperately trying to figure out what he did to manifest SJ's benevolent uncle from somewhere???)

Su Xiyan seems like the only person they met at the Immortal Alliance Conference who doesn't turn up at their door in a state of emergency at some point.

A few years later, there is a big scandal involving her and the demon emperor. Su Xiyan disappears, Huan Hua Palace accuses Tianlang Jun of plotting against the righteous sects, and Shen Yuan is even invited to the meeting where they try and rally everyone to go kill Binghe's dad. Naturally, he declines to participate in the witch hunt, but the major sects agree to it. By luck (or narrative fortune) Shen Yuan comes across Zhuzhi Lang on his trip back home, and mentions the ambush and his distaste for it (not knowing who ZZL is). ZZL warns Tianlang Jun and the confrontation goes very differently, especially since there's no Yue Qingyuan wielding Xuan Su.

It doesn't go well for the sects involved. Huan Hua Palace gets decimated. The Old Palace Master gets killed. Shen Yuan is like uhhhh that's... whoops? Didn't Luo Binghe need that in the future?? Fuck.

But the sect isn't wiped out completely, they just take a massive beating. Some of their younger disciples end up leaving and turning up on Shen Yuan's doorstep, for some reason. The manor house is becoming too small to account for all of these foundlings! They have to expand. Though the expansions would be a stretch to term a "palace" they end up occupying a much larger chunk of territory, and even investing in farmland and some storehouses to help support the sect. That's still not really a sect, of course. Even if a lot of the business that would have normally gone to Huan Hua Palace starts coming to them instead. Once HHP is back on its feet the stream will probably dry out. Probably?

Zhuzhi Lang starts hanging around. He's actually looking for Su Xiyan or their baby, dead or alive and per Tianlang Jun's instructions, but he uses Shen Yuan's school as base camp for his kind of hopeless efforts to find any traces of them, while also looking for ways to try and repay Shen Yuan. All the kids are just like "oh great, another weird man has fallen in love with Shizun -- someone go run interference" about it.

Some years later, an older woman and her young son turn up. Shen Yuan's off on a quest at the time, so SJ receives them. As is standard procedure he gives the woman a job and places the boy in classes, after giving him the aptitude tests. The kid is cute and precocious, so SJ uses him to distract YQ while he himself sneaks out to go join LQG on a monster hunt (and claim the valuable parts of the beast's remains for himself), and neither SY nor ZZL notice anything until SY's going over the paperwork for stuff he missed while he was gone. Since he procrastinated, it takes him like a week to find out that Luo Binghe is finally under his roof. He's going over the admission form right when SJ arrives with The New Adorable Child to try and distract SY enough that SY will let him go on a solo hunt -- as far as being distracted goes, it is way more effective than even SJ anticipated.

Then he has to figure out how to let ZZL know, so that ZZL can let Tianlang Jun know, so that Luo Binghe will have more family than just his mom and more resources than just a shabby little not-sect! But even once he figures it out and sets up the dramatic reveal, TLJ is just like "great! so can he just stay with you? he's probably fine there" which... irritates SY.

SJ fully conscripts Luo Binghe as a minion in his many cons. He never lost his street kid conman tactics, although he now uses them less as a ruthless survival tool or weapon and more to just get things to go his own way. LBH has the face and disposition of a little angel, which SJ no longer can pull off as a full grown adult, so he fills a gap. LBH also knows full well what's going, especially since a lot of SJ's tactics involve throwing LBH at SY like a smoke bomb.

Luo Binghe inevitably still develops a big fat crush on SY, so this is fine by him. Especially when he gets older, he starts bringing SY tea and making him breakfast and running his errands until even SJ is like "wait a minute, this little brat's stealing my job!" and by then it's too late. Luo Binghe is SY's personal assistant, the disciple at conman puppydog eyes has surpassed the master! While SJ was busy being like "I'm going to trick this idiot into doing my chores" LBH was going "I'm going to trick this idiot into giving me his job".

SY takes too long to officially name his school so everyone calls it the Shen Sect, much to his embarrassment.

[witherby]

guys hear me out

neglectedreader who starts seeing their friends like family

maybe like makes friends with an older guy (like 2-4 years older) and sees them as an older brother

and plus also maybe possibly a friend a year or two younger than them who they see as a little sibling

maybe reader starts seeing their teacher as a father figure

and ect ect

and batfam doesnt realize until like one day reader gets sick or smth and their friends come over to check on them and they realize "wow reader and their frjends rly act like siblings"

idk js a thouhht :3

bit of a ramble oops

-🍰

So this prompt is just a touch too specific, to the point where I'd feel I would be regurgitating the prompt back at you in long form.

But keep this premise in mind, because I can fold bits of your idea into someone else's idea in my inbox.

Thank you!

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

Imagine: Taking the Pennyworth name instead

(just short for now I'll work with this after I finished my deadline)

I'm thinking of a small AU for this but I always thought what could happened if Reader was an Isekai or regressed in a Neglected batfam fic?

Reader knowing what happens to the story or her future life with these people and they just straight up planned something to stay far away from the family without causing them to become yandere or obsessed with them.

If reader think it through and most possible solution is to stay at the mansion and be discreet as possible.

And the most I could think of is just get adopted by Alfred instead, bcs why not? You get to stay at the mansion, you won't have the Wayne name on you for reasons that maybe you resent the thought of being called a Wayne.

And even if for a short while you can feel like you belong, not as a child of a rich asshole who becomes a vigilante that runs around 'his' city to do his nightly fight with criminals that just keep multiplying because god only knows he has more patience and time for them that his neglected child who rots in an old house that makes the child feel it's their own Arkham Asylum.

Not to be related to a bunch of bitchy brothers and sisters who thinks they're far more important or involved in the family and never thought that just because they 'died' multiple times your trauma weights lesser than them, just because yours is far more tame doesn't mean you don't get to deserve a little love too.

(This is just me putting myself in the reader's shoes because that's really what I do to most of the x reader fics I make)

Imagine reader just straight up ask Alfred is they could be his child or grandchild instead.

"Adopt me". Alfred stop himself from tipping the teapot when he heard a small tiny voice below him.

The butler looks down and sees the old yet younger addition to the family stare at him from below holding an- wait a minute is that a real adoption papers??

--- Tune in next time to when will I finished this fic before another sh8y day intercept this again---

ALFRED PENNYWORTH SUPREMACY RISE UUPPPPPPP!!!!!!

(some of you might wonder why I'm fixating on Alfred being reader's grandfather/father, it's very simple I just miss my grandfather and Papa so now u know, I'm pretty sure no one wondered but here you go anyway hahahaha)

[space-dreams-world]

Another Twin Au: D and T: Danyal And Talia

Also, potential Spirit Halloween.

Ra's had two children, Danyal Al Ghul and Talia Al Ghul, the Demon's Daughter and the Demon's Son. Talia might have been firstborn, but she was neglected over her father favoring Danyal.

Danyal was treated better than she was, and while Danyal didn't understand Talia's jealousy, he still tried to help her. Like for instance, Talia had a fight to prove her loyalty to the Al Ghul line and was tasked to fight to the death, Danyal seeing how tired she was from training, he poisoned the fighters, so that his sister could win and survive.

Even when Ra's schemed to transfer his mind into Danyal's body, he was overwhelmed by Danyal's spirit and was not able to do the transfer.

Danyal liked to play tricks on new recruits to the league, and when Bruce was there, he pretended to be his sister. (As Danyal constant exposure to the pits made his eyes green)

Talia was only able to develop a relationship with Bruce outside the compound,but Danyal and Bruce's love story was very brief. ( And maybe Bruce liked Danyal more as he could be bargained to live with Bruce, unlike his sister who was devoted to her father)

Ra's would have liked the detective with either of his children,but it was not to be.

In fact, when Talia was planning on wedding Bruce, Danyal was sent for extra protection and liked the little Robin (Dick) despite being on opposite sides. So, when Talia acquires Bruce's sperm to make Damian, Ra's did a test to see which sibling produced better offspring, and unfortunately, Danyal's won. So, Damian was the son of the Bat and Demon, but of Bruce and Danyal. The thing is that Talia and Danyal are identical twins, just one boy and one girl. So, Talia assumes Damian is hers by default, and when creating Heretic, she uses her DNA.

Danyal was someone more connected with the pits than anyone knew and spent some time with the spiritualists of the league. Danyal was there when Jason was in the league and tried to curb his most violent fits, and sometimes took care of Damien in the league along with Jason.

Now, unfortunately, during Ra's coup, Talia, sick of her brother favoritism, pushes Danyal into the pits where he doesn't resurface.

(A few years in Danny Phantom world is a few days in the DC verse, so Danyal as Danny Fenton speedruns the DP life, becomes phantom, follows cannon lore, except doesn't really stay in Amity Park afterwords,closes the two portals, and goes to find his original dimension,where Damien is about to sacrificed to the pit by Talia, believing she can make more,with the bats present kills him.

More in part 2...

[liuhsng]

✩ˎˊ˗ when fate calls ( psh ! )

✩ˎˊ˗ part of the untouchable series | enhypen masterlist

⤷ pairing — sunghoon x fem!reader ⤷ word count— 20.6k ⤷ taglist for the series — open ! ⤷ warning/s — a/b/o au, foul language, slowburn, enemies to lovers trope, mentions of drinking and alcohol, heavy angst + tooth-rotting fluff, indenial!sunghoon, mentions of the other parts from this series ⤷ a/n — long as hell but ik y'all live for that, enjoy reading !

✩ˎˊ˗ summary: as the eldest son of a powerful family, park sunghoon has always followed tradition, dedicating himself to his responsibilities. relationships never crossed his mind, his focus was on the life carefully planned for him. but then there was you, someone he had seen countless times yet never truly noticed until now. when realization dawned on him that you were his mate, it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain. it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain. the unexpeced idea of love terrified him, so he rejected the traditional courting that came with claiming an omega. but as his avoidance hurts you, the high and mighty alpha is forced to confront the truth he’s been running from: some things aren’t meant to be planned.

Park Sunghoon stared at the untouched coffee sitting on the edge of his desk, its heat long gone, leaving behind an aroma that lingered in the air. The clock on the wall ticked softly, mocking him with its glowing digits, 3:14 A.M. He was supposed to be asleep hours ago, but here he was, hunched over stacks of neatly organized paperwork. His bedroom, once a place of rest, now served as an office.

As the eldest, it wasn’t just expected of him to succeed, it was demanded. Every report and signature carried the weight of the Park name. Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, his head tilting toward the ceiling, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

The faint ache in his temples grew sharper, but he ignored it, just as he ignored the way his inner Alpha growled in frustration. "You’re supposed to take care of yourself—for her," it growled. "How will you protect an Omega if you can’t even do this much?"

His jaw clenched as he let out a quiet scoff. “There is no Omega,” he muttered under his breath, as if saying it aloud would somehow silence the voice.

The thought of having a mate, someone who would rely on him, only added to his frustration. He was already drowning in expectations, chained to a life that had no room for distractions, let alone love.

but his inner alpha didn’t back down, the primal side of him rebelling against his neglect. it clawed at him, not with anger, but with frustration, urging him to stop, to rest, to breathe.

sunghoon shut his eyes briefly, a bitter laugh slipping out as he rubbed the back of his neck. the idea of prioritizing himself, of prioritizing someone else in the future, felt absurd. he didn’t have time to indulge in instincts or fantasies, not when there was a legacy to uphold.

he opened his eyes, his gaze falling to the cold coffee cup, his reflection faintly visible in the dark liquid. the alpha in him stirred again, growling low and dissatisfied, but this time sunghoon ignored it entirely. with a sharp sigh, sunghoon pushed the cup aside, the clock’s ticking growing louder in the silence. the hours dwindled, and morning was creeping closer, but he knew sleep wasn’t an option.

there was work to be done, and park sunghoon never left anything unfinished.

Sunghoon ran a tired hand down his face, sighing as his bloodshot eyes scanned the even larger pile of paperwork that greeted him. As the student council’s marketing director, his responsibilities seemed endless, and the fluorescent light overhead only made the mess on his desk look worse.

It was 6 A.M., and he was the first in the council room. Of course he was. He had made it a habit to arrive early, more out of necessity than enthusiasm.

A brief pang of guilt crossed his mind as he remembered his sister. He hadn’t been able to wait for her like he usually did, leaving the house before dawn without a word. “I’ll have to apologize later,” he muttered to himself, though the corners of his lips twitched upward in a humorless smirk.

Knowing his sister, she was probably already in Sunoo’s car by now, laughing about something with the Alpha. It didn’t help that Sunoo wasn’t just his best friend. The boy with the pink hair was also her Alpha, a relationship that Sunghoon had begrudgingly accepted but couldn’t help but feel protective about.

The thought made him snort under his breath. Of course, she’d be fine; Sunoo never missed an opportunity to step in, no matter how early it was.

The sound of the heavy, wooden doors swinging open pulled him from his thoughts. Jay walked in first, his tie already loose and his uniform jacket slung over his shoulder. The Alpha paused mid-step, his eyes narrowing as he took in Sunghoon’s slouched posture.

“Dude, you look like shit,” Jay said bluntly, tossing his bag on his own desk.

Sunghoon didn’t bother looking up. “Good morning to you too,” he replied dryly, his voice as flat as his expression.

Jake followed close behind, a half-eaten breakfast sandwich in hand. He took one look at Sunghoon and immediately stopped chewing. “Holy shit, did you even sleep?” Jake asked, his tone laced with disbelief. He gestured vaguely at Sunghoon’s face. “You look like a ghost.”

“Thanks,” Sunghoon deadpanned, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “Really needed to hear that.”

Jay snorted, leaning against his table. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a pureblooded, strong Alpha, you’re doing a great job of looking half-dead.”

Sunghoon gave them both a sharp glare but didn’t have the energy to retort. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning at the headache that was forming. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the dark circles under his eyes said otherwise.

“Yeah, sure,” Jay quipped, grabbing a stack of paperwork that was messily sitting on top of his table. “Keep telling yourself that, man.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, still looking skeptical. “You’re not going to drop dead on us, right? Because I’m not carrying your heavy ass to the nurse’s office.”

“I’m fine,” Sunghoon repeated, though even he wasn’t convinced by the words.

Jay exchanged a look with Jake, both Alphas sharing a sigh before Jay set his own paperwork down on the desk once again. “You know, if you die,” Jay began with a mocking grin, his tone more teasing than serious, “you do realize you’re going to leave all of this on your sister’s shoulders, right? She’ll probably curse your name for eternity.”

“Or possibly your mate,” Jake chimed in, his voice casual as he gestured toward Sunghoon. “You know, the one you’re supposed to be taking care of in the future by not working yourself into an early grave?”

Sunghoon stiffened at the mention of a mate, his jaw tightening. He hated when they brought it up, and Jake knew it. “I don’t have a mate,” he said coldly, his gaze darkening as he turned to the next set of papers.

Jay opened his mouth to add another comment, but before he could speak, a new voice cut through the room.

“Yeah, as if,” Heeseung’s voice drawled from the doorway, his tone laced with amusement.

He was leaning casually on the wooden door frame, arms crossed as he looked at Sunghoon. “He runs away from any Omega he sees. Poor guy probably wouldn’t know what to do if his mate actually showed up.”

Jake snorted, leaning on his own desk as he tossed his sandwich wrapper into the trash. “He’d probably pass out on the spot,” he added with a grin.

“Or just bury himself in more paperwork,” Jay said, shaking his head. “Honestly, Sunghoon, you’re making all of us pureblooded Alphas look bad.”

Sunghoon glared at the three of them, his annoyance visible. “If you’re all done wasting my time, I have work to do,” he muttered, his voice sharp as he pointedly ignored the way Heeseung’s comment bothered him more than it should.

But Heeseung wasn’t finished. “You know, it’s funny,” he mused, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “For someone so obsessed with rules and traditions, you’re awfully quick to ignore the most important one.”

“I have no time for this,” Sunghoon snapped, his tone colder now, though the way his pen stilled in his hand betrayed his frustration. His eyes stayed glued to the paperwork in front of him, refusing to meet Heeseung’s knowing gaze.

“No time for what?” the older Alpha challenged, his voice calm but laced with amusement. He stepped further into the room, his smirk deepening as he leaned casually against the side of his desk. “No time for the idea of a mate? No time for the Omega who’s meant to balance out that storm in your head? Or is it just no time for things you can’t control?”

“I said, drop it,” Sunghoon growled, his Alpha instincts flashing briefly in his tone as he clenched his jaw. His fingers gripped the pen so tightly it looked like it might snap in his hand.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow but didn’t back down. “I’m just saying,” he continued, his tone now more neutral, “if you keep running from it, you’re only going to make it worse. You think ignoring it will keep things normal the way you want it to?”

Sunghoon’s chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath, his irritation now mixed with something deeper, something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He glanced briefly at the clock, as if that would give him an escape, before returning to his work. “I don’t run from anything,” he said quietly.

Heeseung’s scent spiked up then, as if challenging Sunghoon. The sharp scent of coffee and leather surrounding Sunghoon spiked in response, tension building between the two pureblooded Alphas as the room seemed to pulse with an unspoken challenge.

But Heeseung tilted his head, studying Sunghoon for a moment. “Whatever you say,” he said finally, his smirk softening into a faint smile.

“But don’t come crying to us when it all catches up to you.” With that, he pushed off the desk, casually moving the placard on his own desk that read Vice President, Lee Heeseung, sliding it to the side as he stood up, making it clear that he wasn’t going to stay much longer.

Heeseung strode toward the door, hands casually shoved into his pockets, his movements deliberate but effortless. Just before he left, he threw a glance over his shoulder at Sunghoon. “See you later, Park,” he called, his voice light but carrying an unmistakable edge.

“I mean, he had a point,” came a new voice from the doorway, breaking the silence. Their gaze snapped up, and Sunghoon saw Sunoo leaning casually against the frame, his usual carefree demeanor somehow at odds with the tense atmosphere.

The pink-haired Alpha’s arm was slung over his sister’s shoulder, and despite the casualness of the gesture, Sunghoon couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the sight of it. Sunoo didn’t drop his arm but instead moved it to hold her hand, intertwining their fingers as if marking his claim on her.

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he watched them. “Right, you’re mated to my sister,” he said, the words coming out almost like a warning as his gaze flicked from Sunoo to his sister.

Sunoo grinned, unfazed by the glare. “Yeah, well, we did kind of notice you were a little… tense. Thought we'd come and check on you.”

“How long have you two been standing there?” Sunghoon asked, his voice laced with a hint of exhaustion. His patience was already running thin after the exchange with Heeseung, and now this.

Sunoo shrugged, his smile widening as he stepped further into the room, his mate right beside him. “Long enough to hear your conversation,” Sunoo replied, his voice light.

“And to know you’re not fooling anyone,” Sunghoon's sister added, her tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness. “Not even your inner Alpha, by the way.” She shrugged, as if the comment was an afterthought, but it hit right where it mattered.

Sunghoon glared at them both, irritation flashing in his eyes. He wanted to deny it, to brush it off as just another conversation about his future, but deep down, he knew they were right.

The hallway seemed to clear instinctively as the student council made their way through. A group of powerful pureblooded Alphas, they carried themselves with the kind of confidence and authority that left no room for doubt about their status.

Ni-ki, ever energetic, walked in front, his eyes filled with curiosity as he turned to Jake. “So, about the proposals under the secretary committee…” he began, his voice full of interest. “Do you think there’s anything the public relations committee can help with?” Ni-ki’s gaze flickered to Jake's tablet, whose fingers were drumming absently on the screen.

Jake looked up from the screen, considering the question for a moment. “You guys could help with the promotions. We need the best PR support for this one.”

“Right,” Ni-ki nodded, clearly processing the info. “I’ll talk to them about the promotions then. We’ll get it done.”

Meanwhile, Heeseung and Jungwon were having their own little debate, their voices rising in the back as they argued about something entirely unrelated to council work. “I’m telling you, that new pheromone perfume? It’s garbage. They’re marketing it like it’ll solve everything,” Heeseung said, shaking his head.

Jungwon chuckled, shaking his head. “Garbage or not, some Betas are eating it up. You can’t deny it’s working.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Trailing just a step behind, Sunoo and Jay passed a football between them, their movements smooth and practiced. “Why are they always like this?” Sunoo muttered, his gaze flickering to the pair ahead.

Jay shrugged, catching the ball effortlessly before tossing it back. “It’s entertaining. Besides, this is tame for them.”

Sunghoon, walking a bit apart from the group, scrolled through his tablet with furrowed brows. His father had sent over another set of files, and while he was used to the constant influx of work, it didn’t make it any less exhausting.

“Seriously, Jungwon, you’re impossible,” Heeseung muttered, shaking his head as he dodged Jungwon’s attempt to nudge him.

“Not like you have a choice,” Jungwon teased, flashing a mischievous grin.

Behind them, Sunoo caught the football mid-air and smirked. “I bet Heeseung’s just mad because Jungwon actually has a point for once.”

Jay chuckled. “Don’t push it. You know how he gets when he’s losing.”

Their banter continued, but Sunghoon remained in his own bubble, his fingers scrolling mechanically over the screen. That was until a familiar voice called out.

“Jake!”

The group collectively slowed, all their attention flicking to you as you approached. Jake stopped in his tracks, lowering his tablet to meet your gaze.

“Hey,” you said, slightly out of breath. “I need your help with something.”

Jake’s brows furrowed slightly. “What’s up?”

You handed him your tablet. “It’s about the proposal breakdown you sent. The third column—again, it’s all messed up, and I can’t figure out why.”

Jake blinked and then laughed softly, shaking his head. “That thing’s cursed.”

You groaned. “Please tell me you can fix it.”

“Of course.” Jake started tapping on your screen, walking alongside you as he explained the error. You nodded along, grateful for his patience.

Behind you, Sunoo and Jay exchanged a glance, their conversation fading as they tuned into yours. Sunoo tossed the ball back absently. “They’re a bit too comfortable, don’t you think?”

Jay smirked faintly, his tone teasing but light. “Maybe Jake’s just that charming.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, his fingers pausing on the screen as he forced himself not to glance in your direction. Something about the way you walked so effortlessly into their group, completely unfazed, grated on his nerves. His inner Alpha stirred, but he pushed the feeling down.

Jungwon, noticing the way Sunghoon’s scent subtly shifted, leaned toward Heeseung. “You smell that?” he whispered, a sly grin forming.

Heeseung, ever the observant one, smirked knowingly. “Oh, I smell it alright.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flicked up briefly, landing on you and Jake. He quickly looked back down at his tablet, though the irritation bubbling under the surface didn’t fade.

“You good, man?” Jay called out, the football now tucked under his arm.

“I’m fine,” Sunghoon muttered, his voice clipped.

“Yeah, just approach me whenever you need help with that,” Jake said, his tone casual as he handed your tablet back. A small, easy smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the kind that made it impossible to feel tense around him.

You mirrored his smile, genuinely grateful. “Thanks, Jake. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”

Turning your attention to Ni-ki, who was walking just slightly ahead, you called out, “Oh, and Ni-ki, I already mentioned the pending tasks to Jake earlier. I think some members of the secretary committee might be able to lend a hand if you’re short on people for logistics.”

Ni-ki glanced back at you, surprised but clearly impressed. “Really? That’d be a huge help. Thanks, (Y/N).”

So you were close to Ni-ki too? Sunghoon’s grip on his tablet tightened slightly, his jaw ticking as he skimmed the lines of text that no longer registered. His focus wasn’t on the files his father had sent him anymore; it was on you. You were supposed to be under Jake’s committee, and yet here you were, chatting easily with Ni-ki like you belonged in every conversation.

Jake noticed the subtle exchange and shook his head with a playful scoff. “You’re getting way too independent for my liking, Nishimura,” he teased, shooting the youngest Alpha a pointed look. “You’re consulting (Y/N) without even running it by me first? Seriously?”

Ni-ki smirked, unfazed by Jake’s mock scolding. “(Y/N)’s good at this stuff. Besides, teamwork, right?” He threw Jake’s own words back at him, grinning.

You laughed, shaking your head at their banter. “Don’t worry, Jake. You’re still the boss. Ni-ki just wanted to cover his bases, and I figured it couldn’t hurt to get a head start.”

“See?” Ni-ki said, raising a brow at Jake. “Efficiency. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Before Jake could retort, Sunghoon cleared his throat, a sharp sound that cut through the light-hearted conversation like a blade. Everyone stopped talking almost instantly, turning their attention toward him.

“My next class is just around this corner,” Sunghoon said, his voice calm but clipped, as if he wasn’t in the mood to entertain any further distractions.

His gaze briefly flickered to you, unreadable yet heavy, before he shifted his attention back to the tablet in his hands. Without another word, he began walking ahead, leaving the group behind.

Jay and Sunoo exchanged glances, the teasing smirks they’d been wearing moments ago replaced by something more knowing. Sunoo raised an eyebrow at Jay, who shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Interesting,” Jay muttered under his breath, loud enough for Sunoo to hear but quiet enough to avoid catching Sunghoon’s attention.

Sunoo nodded slightly, his lips twitching in amusement as he leaned closer to Jay. “Very interesting.”

You, oblivious to the subtle exchange between the two Alphas, kept walking alongside Jake, still completely engrossed in the conversation. “Anyway, just let me know if there’s anything else I can help with. I don’t want to overstep, but I figured I might as well be useful where I can.”

Jake chuckled, his laid-back demeanor putting you at ease. “Overstep? You? Nah, you’re just making my job easier. Keep it up, (Y/N).”

Meanwhile, Sunghoon, now a few steps ahead of the group, tried to keep his focus on the files displayed on his tablet. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept drifting back to you—walking too close to Jake, smiling too easily at his jokes, and being too comfortable in a group of Alphas where Sunghoon felt like you stood out the most.

His inner Alpha stirred uneasily, frustrated and annoyed at the pull you had over him. He hated how it made him feel, how he couldn’t seem to control the way his senses sharpened whenever you were nearby. His scent of coffee and leather spiked faintly as he clenched his jaw, pushing the feelings down as best he could.

Heeseung, noticing the slight change in Sunghoon’s posture and scent, smirked to himself but didn’t say a word. Jungwon, however, nudged Heeseung with his elbow, his expression smug.

“Called it,” Jungwon whispered, earning a chuckle from Heeseung.

You, still entirely unaware of the tension you were unknowingly creating, glanced toward Sunghoon’s retreating figure for a moment, a small frown of curiosity crossing your face before you turned back to Jake. “Do you think he’s okay?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

Jake glanced ahead, following your gaze to where Sunghoon had disappeared around the corner. “He’s fine,” he replied, though there was a knowing edge to his tone. “He just takes things a little too seriously sometimes. Don’t worry about him.”

But you did. You couldn’t help it.

And neither could Sunghoon.

The classroom buzzed faintly with the low hum of people talking and the scratching of pens on paper. Sunghoon sat by the window, his tablet propped up in front of him, displaying spreadsheets and documents his father had sent over earlier, but his eyes weren’t on them. Instead, they were fixed on the gray sky outside, his thoughts wandering far from budget allocations and meeting agendas.

You.

You’d been on his mind since lunch, and no matter how much he tried to push the thought of you away, it kept resurfacing and demanding his attention. You’d always been around, working under Jake in the secretary committee. He knew you, he had seen you countless times in meetings and events.

But you’d never lingered in his thoughts before. So why now? Why did the sight of you walking beside Jake earlier make something in his chest tighten uncomfortably?

The faintest hint of honey and lilac lingered in his memory, soft but intoxicating. He swore he could still smell it even now, though he knew it was impossible. Your scent—it clung to his thoughts.

His jaw clenched, and his brows furrowed as he tapped his pen against the desk. He didn’t understand it. There was something about you that had his Alpha instincts stirring, clawing at the edges of his mind. His wolf, a part of him he usually kept tightly controlled, was restless.

“Mr. Park,” his professor’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Sunghoon blinked, snapping his gaze toward the front of the room. The professor was staring at him, waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t heard.

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, his classmates glancing between him and the professor. But then Sunghoon straightened in his seat, his expression calm as he answered, “The proposed budget allocation for next semester’s extracurricular activities needs to account for inflation trends. That’s why the margin was adjusted to five percent.”

The professor raised a brow, nodding approvingly. “Correct, Mr. Park. As expected.”

Sunghoon’s classmates exchanged looks, some impressed, others annoyed, but he ignored them. His body was here, in this classroom, answering questions and keeping up appearances, but his mind? His mind was with you.

The bell rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. He packed his things quickly, stepping out into the hallway where Jungwon was waiting for him, leaning casually against the wall.

“Took you long enough,” Jungwon teased, stepping beside him as they walked toward their next meeting.

Sunghoon didn’t answer immediately, his thoughts still tangled. Jungwon glanced at him, his brows furrowing slightly. “You good?”

“Fine,” Sunghoon muttered, his tone clipped.

They turned a corner, and Sunghoon’s steps halted for just a moment. There you were, standing a few feet away, chatting with Jungwon and Sunoo’s mates. You nodded at something one of them said, a small smile gracing your lips as you gestured excitedly with your hands.

Sunghoon’s chest tightened again, that unfamiliar feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach. His wolf bristled, the instinctive urge to step closer, to claim what was his. But he shoved it down, locking it away behind the mask of indifference he’d perfected over the years.

You glanced up, your eyes meeting his briefly. Without saying anything, you gave Jungwon a small nod, silently acknowledging him. Sunghoon caught the faint smile you sent his way before your attention returned to the conversation in front of you.

“Looks like we’re all heading to the same place,” Jungwon said lightly, his tone casual as he nudged Sunghoon forward.

Sunghoon didn’t respond, his grip tightening around his backpack strap as he forced himself to move. You were close, too close. He could hear your laugh, soft and full of life, as you spoke to Sunoo’s mate. He could smell your scent, and it made his inner Alpha agitated.

He didn’t like this.

Didn’t like how his instincts reacted to you.

Didn’t like the way his thoughts strayed toward you when he had more important things to focus on.

Didn’t like how his body seemed to recognize something his mind refused to.

Heeseung and Jay passed by, still caught up in their conversation, but Heeseung sent him a knowing glance. Not fully understanding, but suspecting something.

Sunghoon shut it all out.

He had no time for love.

No time for whatever this was.

Without another word, he walked past you, through the council room doors, and forced himself to bury whatever this feeling was before it could take root.

You hesitated for a moment, watching Sunghoon as he disappeared into the meeting room without sparing you another glance. It wasn’t the first time he’d brushed past you like that, but something about today felt different. The way his shoulders tensed, the way his gaze hardened the second he saw you—it was like you were a problem he didn’t have time for.

And you didn’t understand why.

Sunoo’s mate, who just so happened to be Sunghoon’s younger sister, sighed beside you, her voice low as she leaned in. “Don’t bother,” she murmured, arms crossing as she watched her brother’s retreating figure. “He’s always like that.”

But was he?

Because despite her words, you had a gnawing feeling that the way Sunghoon treated you was different. Like there was something beneath his cold exterior, something you couldn’t quite understand.

You were still lost in thought when Ni-ki slid into the seat next to you. His presence was casual, but his sharp eyes missed nothing.

He nudged you lightly, voice dropping into a teasing whisper. “Why are you staring at Sunghoon like that?”

You snapped out of your daze, your eyes widening slightly. “What?”

The younger Alpha smirked, resting his chin on his hand as he observed you. “You’ve been watching him since he walked in. And don’t even try to deny it.”

Heat crept up your face as you quickly looked away. “I wasn’t—”

“Uh-huh,” Ni-ki cut in, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, (Y/N). Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You huffed, shaking your head before turning your attention back to Jungwon as he finally started the meeting.

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping idly against the smooth wood of the long table before his lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Alright, before we get to the real agenda… I’m assuming everyone here knows they’re expected to be at the grand dinner our dear marketing director's family is hosting?”

Collective groans echoed through the room.

Jay was the first to voice his displeasure, rolling his eyes as he slumped against his chair. “No offense, Sunghoon, but I was trying to pretend I forgot about that.”

“Do we really have to go?” Sunoo sighed dramatically, slouching back in his seat with exaggerated defeat. “What if I suddenly develop a rare illness that prevents me from attending formal events? I think it’s highly possible. I should get it checked out.”

“You and me both,” Jay added, rolling his eyes.

Jungwon chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll make sure our dear school nurse looks after you.” His tone was light, but the glint in his eyes made it clear—none of them were getting out of this.

You sat quietly at the far end of the table, taking in the conversation with mild amusement. The mention of the event piqued your curiosity, though you weren’t as vocal about your distaste for it as the others.

Instead, you found your gaze wandering toward Sunghoon, who, as expected, remained perfectly composed, his expression cold, eyes still skimming over his tablet as if this conversation didn’t concern him in the slightest.

Unlike the others, Sunghoon wasn’t one to complain about formal events. No, he was used to them. They were expected of him, just as everything else in his life was predetermined. And yet, despite his practiced facade, something about the way he held himself—his grip tightening around the device, his jaw tensing ever so slightly—told you that he wasn’t entirely unaffected.

Not that you would ever get the chance to ask him about it.

Because every time you so much as looked his way, his entire demeanor shifted, as if your presence alone irritated him. And it stung, just a little.

Jungwon, unaware of the silent exchange, finally clapped his hands together. “Alright, moving on. Since we’re all forced to attend that wonderful dinner, let’s get to what actually matters—the upcoming school festival.”

A shift in everyone's demeanor followed as the real meeting began. Papers rustled, files were opened, and everyone straightened up, ready to discuss proposals and assignments.

“The main goal for this meeting is to finalize activity proposals before we present them for approval. We have a rough list, but we still need to sort out logistics,” Jungwon continued. “Jake, you and your team already compiled the initial proposals, right?”

Jake nodded, pulling out a neatly organized folder. “Yeah, I went through the ones submitted last week. I’ll run through them real quick.”

As Jake started going over the list, you chimed in with some of your own notes, offering insights from the secretary committee’s perspective. “Some of these proposals overlap with past events, so we might want to rethink a few of them to keep things fresh. Also, we should factor in the budget constraints before finalizing anything.”

Jay, being the treasurer, leaned forward, tapping his pen against his notebook. “Speaking of budgets, don’t forget that we still need funding for venue rentals and logistics.”

Heeseung snorted. “Stop acting like we’re broke. We could fund the whole event if we wanted to.”

Jay smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, but just because we have the funds doesn’t mean we should start tossing money around like it’s fucking Monopoly cash.”

Sunoo, the student relations director, hummed in approval. “Okay, but let’s consider which ones would actually engage the student body. No point in budgeting for an event no one shows up to.”

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, shrugging. “That’s fair, but we do have the resources. As long as it’s reasonable, funding isn’t really the issue.”

Jay sighed, still skeptical. “Fine. Just don’t come crying to me when we go over budget because someone thought a fireworks show would be a great addition.”

The discussion flowed naturally, Ni-ki making suggestions from the public relations side. “We also need to think about how we’re promoting these events. Even the best ideas fail if no one knows about them. I can get the PR committee to start drafting marketing strategies once we finalize the shortlist.”

But amidst all of this, Sunghoon was distracted. No one would have noticed—no one except Heeseung, of course.

Because while the others were engaged in conversation, Sunghoon was stuck in a losing battle against his own thoughts. His gaze flickered to you more times than he wanted to admit, even as he forced himself to keep his attention on his tablet. He wasn’t just distracted; he was frustrated.

Why did he care? Why did it bother him when you spoke so easily with the others? You had always been there. You had always been part of these meetings, always sitting on the opposite end of the table, working just as hard as the rest of them.

So why, now of all times, was he so hyperaware of you?

Why did your voice pull him from his thoughts? Why did the scent of honey and lilac make his muscles tense?

He didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have time for love.

“Sunghoon,” Heeseung’s voice cut through his thoughts suddenly, snapping him back to reality.

Sunghoon didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, I agree with (Y/N)’s suggestion.”

Silence.

Jay raised a brow, glancing at Heeseung before turning back to Sunghoon. “You sure about that, man?”

Sunoo looked equally amused, glancing between you and Sunghoon as he tossed the pen between his hands. “Because that was the first time you spoke since the meeting started.”

The corner of Heeseung’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “So, you were listening, huh?”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw. Heeseung knew. He always knew.

But instead of giving them the satisfaction, Sunghoon merely straightened in his seat, exuding the same indifference as before. “Of course I was. I wouldn’t be sitting here if I wasn’t.”

Then Heeseung let out a low whistle, still smirking, only leaning back in his chair. “Right. If you say so.”

Jungwon, still trying to be professional, shook his head. “Alright, focus, people.”

You, however, weren’t paying attention to them anymore. Your gaze drifted toward a specific pureblooded Alpha—the way he sat stiffly, the way his fingers tapped against the screen with an edge of tension.

And suddenly, you weren’t just confused.

You were curious.

Because if Sunghoon truly didn’t care about you, why did he remember every single word you had said?

You replayed every moment you saw him from earlier that day—his quiet, almost reluctant responses to you, how he kept his distance but somehow always seemed to be aware of everything you said and did. His voice echoed in your head now, and it made you question everything you’d assumed about him.

Was this really indifference?

Or was it something else?

The meeting droned on, but your mind couldn't stay focused. It kept drifting back to him—his posture, the sharpness of his eyes, the moles on his face that somehow made him even more attractive, the way he always seemed so calculated, like he was constantly running scenarios in his head, measuring each move.

Sunghoon wasn’t just someone who blended in with the group. No, he commanded attention, even without trying.

And yet, there he was, looking as uninterested as ever, his expression stoic as he scrolled through something on his device. But that nagging feeling—like there was something more beneath his mask—kept poking at you.

Without thinking, you leaned back in your chair, letting the tension in your body melt away for a moment, trying to get a glimpse of the real Sunghoon—not the calculated, polished version he liked to show other people.

You had to admit, you were intrigued. The pureblooded Alphas were all so predictable in their own ways, but Sunghoon was different.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Heeseung cleared his throat, looking at Jungwon with a raised eyebrow. “We’re talking about the theme for the event, right?” he asked casually, as if the meeting hadn’t slipped into a quiet lull.

Jungwon nodded, unfazed. “Yes. But we need more input from everyone. Ideas that aren’t just—”

“I have one,” you cut in, unable to resist any longer. Your voice came out clear and confident, a stark contrast to the flurry of thoughts racing through your mind. “We could go with something subtle but impactful. A theme that revolves around contrasts. Like light and dark, maybe even using elements of nature, contrasts of seasons, or contrasting textures. After all, it’s all about balance.”

You paused, feeling everyone’s gaze on you for just a moment longer than necessary. But you held it together.

The room fell silent. Sunghoon didn’t react immediately, but you could sense his attention subtly shifting in your direction. You dared to meet his eyes for a split second, but he quickly looked down at his tablet again, feigning disinterest.

But you noticed the way his lips pressed together, the slight tension in his jaw that he never showed anyone else. You wondered if he was considering your words or if he was just trying to avoid acknowledging the pull you had on him.

Finally, Sunghoon spoke up, his voice surprisingly calm. “It’s not bad,” he said, looking up from his tablet. “Contrast is a powerful tool. We could work with it.” His gaze lingered on you for a brief second before he turned his attention back to the discussion, as if the acknowledgment had been nothing more than a casual comment.

You blinked, slightly taken aback. The unexpected approval from him felt different from the usual dismissive reactions. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You quickly nodded, trying to maintain your composure.

“I’ll send a more detailed proposal with visuals after the meeting,” you added, pushing forward.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything more, but you caught the way his gaze flickered toward you again, his eyes narrowing just slightly. There was a brief pause, like he was weighing his next move.

The air had shifted just a little, and you couldn’t quite place why. But you were certain that there was something more to his response, even if he tried to brush it off as nonchalance.

The rustling of papers and the faint creak of chairs filled the council room as everyone packed up. The meeting had dragged on longer than expected, and most of them were ready to go home.

Jake slung his bag over his shoulder, exhaling. “Alright, let’s go. I think we all want to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

Ni-ki snorted. “Reasonable? You all literally run on caffeine and stress.”

Jake rolled his eyes, already walking toward the door. “Just hurry up.”

One by one, they filed out into the dimly lit hallways, their chatter echoing through the empty corridors. Outside, the night air was crisp, the usual warm breeze replaced by a sharper chill.

The campus at night had an almost eerie but majestic feel to it, grand architecture bathed in soft golden lights, towering columns casting long shadows across the marble pathways. The air smelled of expensive cologne and freshly trimmed gardens—the very image of wealth and privilege. It was the kind of place that asked for admiration, yet felt untouchable, like something straight out of a dream.

They walked in their usual loose formation toward the parking lot, their voices filling the space between them. Sunoo and Jay were deep in a debate about their next group dinner, Ni-ki throwing in sarcastic remarks while Heeseung poked fun at Jungwon’s overly formal meeting style.

But Sunghoon?

Sunghoon was silent.

He walked with them, hands shoved into his pockets, his usual confident stride still the same. And yet, he wasn’t really there. He wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, wasn’t throwing in his usual sarcastic remarks. He barely even reacted when Ni-ki nudged him in the ribs or when Heeseung smirked at him like he was waiting for a comeback.

Jay was the first to notice. He narrowed his eyes, slowing his steps to fall in line beside him. “What’s up with you?”

Sunghoon blinked, like he hadn’t even realized someone was talking to him. “What?”

Jay gave him a look. “You’ve been weirdly quiet. Like, more than usual. It’s kinda freaking me out.”

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t. And they all caught it.

Because for the briefest second, his scent changed—something bitter wafted through the air.

Jay’s eyes flickered, but he let it go. “If you say so.”

The conversation picked up again, but Sunghoon remained detached, walking alongside them but never really taking part in any of the conversations.

They reached the parking lot, and the group naturally split off toward their respective cars, saying their goodbyes.

Sunghoon walked toward his own: a sleek, black sports car, polished to perfection. It stood out even among the other luxury vehicles, a clear reminder of his status.

He pulled the door open but didn’t start it. Instead, he sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel as he stared straight ahead.

The quietness of the parking lot pressed down on him, leaving nothing but the hum of distant streetlights and the faint ringing in his ears.

And then, for the first time all night, his inner Alpha spoke.

"Pathetic."

A dull throb started in his temples. He shut his eyes, jaw clenching.

"You’re running, aren’t you?"

“Shut up.” His grip on the wheel tightened, but the voice didn’t stop. It never did.

"You saw her today. Again. And what did you do?"

His chest ached. “Nothing.”

His inner Alpha scoffed. "Exactly. You ignored her. You walked past her like she was nothing."

“Because she is nothing to me.” But even as he said it, his own words felt hollow.

"Liar."

His head pulsed, frustration clawing at his skull. He couldn’t do this. He had responsibilities. Expectations. He had worked too damn hard to let something as simple as instincts get in the way.

His life was structured, orderly. He had a plan.

He had no time for love.

No time for distractions.

And yet, the way his instincts clawed at him, the way his Alpha had been restless all evening, it was suffocating.

His own body was betraying him.

He exhaled sharply, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his temple. Not now. Not ever.

With a final, sharp breath, he yanked the car door shut, sealing himself inside.

And then, without another second wasted, he started the engine and drove off into the night.

The drive home was a blur. Sunghoon barely remembered driving through the city streets, his grip on the wheel tense, jaw locked as he forced his thoughts elsewhere—anywhere but where they wanted to be.

But the moment he pulled into the long, private driveway leading to his family estate, he knew that tonight was going to be hell.

His home was as grand as expected from a family like his—towering windows, intricate stonework, and the ever-present air of power. The gates shut behind him, and for a second, he let his forehead rest against the steering wheel. Maybe if he sat here long enough, his thoughts would settle.

Your scent still clung to his senses—honey and lilac, sweet but not overpowering. It had wrapped around him in the council room, seeped into his skin, and now it refused to leave. He hated how much it soothed him, how his muscles almost wanted to relax, how it made something deep in his chest coil tighter instead of loosening.

"You’re being pathetic," his alpha sneered, voice curling in his mind like a mocking whisper. "Avoiding her doesn’t change the fact that she’s yours."

Sunghoon’s lips curled into a silent snarl as he shoved the car door open, stepping out into the crisp night air.

“She is not mine.”

His inner alpha laughed, low and knowing. "Keep telling yourself that. See how well that works."

Ignoring the voice, he strode toward the house. The moment he stepped inside, everything felt too much. The walls felt closer. The silence was suffocating. His body was tense with an agitation he couldn’t shake. His instincts were screaming at him to move, to do something.

He made his way upstairs, stripping off his blazer and tossing it carelessly onto the chair by his desk. His bathroom door was open, the mirror catching his reflection. His eyes were sharp, glowing under the dim lighting, the exhaustion on his face barely hidden beneath the tension.

He turned away, forcing himself not to linger.

A shower. Maybe that would help.

The water was scalding against his skin, yet it did nothing to ease the heat gnawing at his chest. The steam didn’t drown out your presence—your scent lingered, thick in the air. His hands clenched against the tiles, his body stiff as the wave of frustration rolled over him.

“She’s under Jake in the secretary committee,” he muttered, trying to remind himself why it couldn’t be this way. “She’s always been there, but you never cared before. Why now?”

His alpha growled, the voice inside him bitter. "Because you were blind before."

“And I’m not now?”

"No. And you hate it."

Sunghoon exhaled sharply, the water running down his back as he scrubbed it away, scrubbing away the thoughts that wouldn’t leave.

He was supposed to have control. He couldn’t let this slip. He had responsibilities, obligations—his family, the council, the expectations weighing on his shoulders. He could not afford distractions.

And yet…

The moment he collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion tugging at him, he couldn’t escape the truth. The weight of it crushed him as he stared at the ceiling, and despite all the effort to push it down, all he could think about was you.

His body fought against it. His mind screamed at him to focus, to remind himself of his purpose. But his heart, and his damn alpha—kept drawing him back to you.

He lay on his bed for what felt like hours, the shadows from the window stretching over the floor, taunting him with the silence that felt too heavy.

“Get up,” he muttered to himself, sitting up abruptly, his body moving almost involuntarily. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't let himself relax. He needed something to focus on, something that would force his mind to behave.

Sunghoon stalked over to his desk, flicking on the lamp with a snap of his fingers. The pile of paperwork in front of him was waiting; papers that he had ignored for far too long, reports that needed reviewing, contracts his father had left for him to examine.

He grabbed the nearest stack, flipping it open, pretending to care about the figures and legal jargon written on the pages. But it was useless. His eyes skimmed over the words, but none of it made sense. His mind was elsewhere. His fingers would itch for the next page, yet they weren’t moving fast enough.

He cursed under his breath, trying to force his attention back onto the papers, but his thoughts kept drifting—drifting to you.

He slammed the folder closed, frustration clawing at him, his teeth gritting as he let out a harsh breath. What the hell was wrong with him?

"You know the answer," his inner alpha purred darkly. "It’s only a matter of time before you crack."

He shook his head, trying to fight back the growing sensation of need. He couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow it.

Still, the clock ticked on, its hands mocking him, each second louder than the last.

He pushed himself up from his desk, pacing the room in frustration. His mind was a battlefield, the war between his own instincts and the duties he had been born into. He couldn’t just let go.

He had responsibilities. But everything in him—his very core, his inner alpha—was screaming for him to do the one thing he refused to acknowledge: follow his instincts. Go to her. Take the step forward.

"You’re already in too deep," the voice reminded him again, this time quieter, almost tender. "She’s not just anyone. she’s yours."

Sunghoon froze, his back against the wall as the words hit him harder than he could have ever anticipated. His heart skipped a beat. The thought of you, the reality of you being his, it felt almost too much to bear.

His alpha wasn’t wrong. But the fear of breaking the walls he had carefully built around his life, the fear of losing control, it was all too overwhelming.

Finally, Sunghoon gave in and walked over to his walk-in closet, the weight of his thoughts dragging him down. He yanked open the door, revealing rows of neatly organized clothes.

His eyes scanned the options without much focus, hand moving almost automatically as he grabbed a random hoodie from the rack. Pulling it over his head, he felt the familiar weight of the fabric, but it did little to comfort him.

Maybe a walk would help. Fresh air. Something to clear his mind. Maybe then, he could shake the way his body burned for something, anything that wasn’t this.

But the instant he stepped out into the cool night, his mind betrayed him again. He walked in the direction of the garden, his eyes glued to the ground, his thoughts clouded.

And there, in the garden, where the cold air mixed with the scent of flowers, the feeling hit him again, the overwhelming, suffocating need to give in.

Sunghoon found himself staring at the moon, and then, without realizing it, his mind drifted again.

You.

And when he tried to stop it, it came anyway.

Sunghoon’s frustration increased, his fingers clenching into fists at his sides. The wind swept across the garden, rustling the leaves, and yet he felt nothing but this suffocating pull toward you, toward whatever this was. The thoughts were relentless, the pull of his instincts gnawing at him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, cutting through the chaos of his mind. He pulled it out, his eyes narrowing at the message from Jungwon, “Need you in the council office tomorrow for another meeting. Can’t do this without the rest of you guys.”

Sunghoon scoffed, shoving the phone back into his pocket. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with any more committee business. He was already drowning in it.

Yet, despite himself, he began to walk back toward the house, his pace quickening as if his legs knew what his mind refused to accept—that he couldn’t escape this. Not for long.

The only thing on his mind now was what he couldn’t have. And the bitter, hollow feeling that came with it was growing by the minute.

The morning light barely made its way through the heavy curtains, casting faint shadows on Sunghoon’s disheveled bed. He groaned as a loud knock broke through the quietness of his room. The sound echoed in his head, still hazy with the remnants of sleep.

Reluctantly, he reached for his phone, eyes squinting against the harsh glow of the screen. 7:00 AM. The numbers were bold, a text from his sister flashed across the screen, accompanied by a string of impatient emojis.

“Sunghoon, get up. We need to head to the venue. There are last-minute details to fix before the event.”

A sigh slipped past his lips. The last thing he wanted was to be pulled into this whirlwind of preparations, but as usual, duty called. His inner alpha thrashed beneath the surface, restless as ever, but there was no time for that. He had responsibilities to uphold.

Another knock came, louder this time. “Hurry up!” His sister’s voice echoed from the hallway, laced with a teasing urgency.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, dragging himself out of bed. His body felt heavy, his mind clouded, but he forced himself to push through. His sister’s impatience was nothing new, but today, it felt more grating than usual.

He stumbled to the door, opening it to find his sister standing there with arms crossed, an amused smile playing at the corner of her lips. “You're seriously still in bed? I swear, you’re getting worse with every event,” she said, her tone light but laced with the expectation of someone who knew he could do better.

Sunghoon rubbed his eyes, his voice groggy. “I’m coming,” he muttered, trying to shake off the sleepiness clinging to him. She rolled her eyes, brushing past him and heading down the stairs without another word.

Minutes later, he stood in front of the full-length mirror in his closet, adjusting the black Dior suit his mother insisted on for every event. The fabric felt familiar, but it didn’t comfort him the way it usually did.

His reflection stared back at him: sharp, immaculate, and detached. The face of someone who had never been able to escape the expectations placed upon him. He barely recognized himself some days.

Sunghoon’s sports car sped down the quiet road, the cool morning air rushing through the slightly open windows. His sister, as usual, was absorbed in her phone beside him, chattering on about whatever had caught her attention.

But Sunghoon’s mind was elsewhere. It kept drifting back to the image of you at the council, the way you carried yourself with ease, how your presence lingered in his thoughts like a scent he couldn’t shake.

“You’re driving like you’re half asleep,” his sister finally commented, giving him a quick glance with raised brows. “Sunghoon, are you okay? You’ve been off all week.”

He blinked, pulling himself out of his daze and offering a strained smile. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice betraying him as he tried to brush it off.

She eyed him skeptically. “You’ve barely talked to anyone at home this week. What’s going on?”

Sunghoon stiffened but didn’t respond immediately. His mind briefly flickered back to you, but he shook it off, trying to stay focused.

“Have you found your mate yet?” she asked, her voice soft but curious—not teasing. She could sense the change in him even if she didn’t fully understand why.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he kept his gaze on the road. His mate. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about that possibility, not when everything felt so complicated.

“No,” he muttered, the word coming out sharper than he intended. “Not yet.”

His sister let out a dramatic sigh, clearly unimpressed. “You’re such a mess. Honestly, you could just relax. It’s not the end of the world if you let your guard down for a second.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he continued driving, his mind still wrapped up in the swirling tension inside him. Why couldn’t it be anyone else? Why did it have to be you? He couldn’t seem to make sense of it.

The silence stretched on until his sister mumbled something under her breath, so quietly that he almost missed it.

“The poor girl.”

His head snapped toward her, brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

She looked at him knowingly, the edge of her teasing never fully disappearing. “You’ve been pushing her away all week, haven’t you?” she said softly, almost pitying. “And you think she doesn’t notice? Poor girl. She probably thinks you’re confused with the way you keep looking at her.”

Sunghoon’s chest tightened at her words. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of them lingered in the air between them. His mind was too busy to process it. He had to stay focused. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by his feelings now, not when there was so much at stake.

His sister didn’t press the matter further. The drive continued in silence until they arrived at The Park Hotel, Seoul—a towering, luxurious building that his family owned. Sunghoon parked the car and shut off the engine, forcing himself to breathe.

As he stepped out of the car, his gaze landed on a sleek white sports car parked by the entrance. It was familiar, but there was something about it, something about the way it was parked so perfectly neat, that made Sunghoon pause. He glanced at it for a moment but didn’t think much of it. He shrugged it off. After all, there were so many cars in the parking lot. It was probably just another business associate’s vehicle.

“Come on,” his sister said, walking ahead toward the entrance. “Let’s go.”

They walked into the hotel, where the hustle of preparations for the event was already in full swing. His mother was already there, talking to a few staff members, discussing last-minute details. The sight of her being so composed and confident was a relief to Sunghoon. He always felt better around her.

“Mom!” he greeted, his mood lightening as he walked toward her. She smiled and greeted him in return before they moved toward the elevator.

“Top floor,” Sunghoon said, pressing the button for the penthouse suite, the family’s personal event space at the top of the building.

The elevator doors closed, and as it ascended, Sunghoon relaxed slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing. He loved this space; it always gave him a sense of control. The casual chatter in the elevator with his mom helped ground him.

“Everything ready for the event?” he asked casually, watching the numbers on the elevator screen rise.

His mom smiled, nodding. “Almost. Just some last-minute touches, but I think we’ll be fine. You know how much I love to be thorough with everything.” She glanced at him, her smile softening. “How’s everything with you, Sunghoon? You seem a bit distracted today.”

Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smile more naturally. “I’m just tired, I guess. Been a long week.” He quickly glanced over at his sister, who had her nose buried in her phone. “You know how it is.”

“Of course,” his mom said with a knowing look. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, don’t you? Just don’t overwork yourself. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Sunghoon appreciated the concern, but he wasn’t ready to share what was really on his mind. “I’ll be fine, Mom. Don’t worry.”

The elevator finally stopped, and they were greeted by the usual flurry of activity as staff members hurried around, making sure every last detail was in place. His mom led the way, greeting workers and supervisors with ease.

But Sunghoon’s attention was already elsewhere. His eyes instinctively swept over the scene, and that’s when he saw you.

You were standing near one of the event coordinators, looking effortlessly at ease, your posture graceful. Sunghoon froze. His heart skipped a beat as his gaze locked onto you.

Before he could process it further, his mom continued walking ahead, greeting a woman standing nearby. Sunghoon barely registered who she was until he saw her face, and the resemblance was unmistakable.

His breath caught. The woman was elegant, poised, with the same features that were reflected in your own face. He stood frozen, unsure of how to react. His eyes flicked back to you, now standing beside the woman, his mind struggling to catch up with the sudden connection.

Then, to his surprise, his mom stepped forward and pulled you into a warm, affectionate hug. The gesture caught the pureblooded Alpha off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless.

His sister, noticing the way Sunghoon’s gaze lingered on the scene, raised an eyebrow. She smirked, almost as if she had been waiting for this moment.

“So… it’s actually (Y/N), huh?” she said casually, her tone light but laced with a knowing edge. “Guess you really can’t avoid it, huh?”

Sunghoon’s chest tightened as he took a deep breath, trying to process everything at once. What were you doing here?

Sunghoon stood frozen, his thoughts racing as his mom pulled you into a warm embrace. The sight of your face, the familiar features—everything about you felt like it was making his world tilt. He was still processing it all when his mom’s voice broke through his daze.

“Sunghoon, come here, both of you,” his mom called, waving them over.

Sunghoon’s feet moved almost automatically, his sister walking ahead of him, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she noticed the subtle tension in his posture. When they reached his mom, she was still smiling warmly at you and the woman standing next to you.

“(Y/N), I’d like you to meet my children, Sunghoon and his younger sister. And this is (Y/N)’s mother, who I’ve been coordinating with for the event,” she added, beaming. "She’s in the same university as you two, actually.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flickered between you and your mother. So, it was your family they were working with. The realization hit him harder than expected, his chest tightening.

Sunghoon’s sister raised an eyebrow and gave you a knowing smile, but it was his mom who asked the next question, her curiosity piqued. “What are you involved in at school, (Y/N)? I’m sure you’ve been keeping busy with the student council, right?”

You smiled a little, still feeling a little nervous under Sunghoon’s gaze, but his mom’s friendly demeanor helped ease the tension. “Yeah, I’m part of the student council. I’ve been helping with the planning and coordination for the event today.”

His mom nodded approvingly. “That’s wonderful! It’s always nice to see young people so dedicated and involved. I bet you and Sunghoon are both quite busy with school.”

You nodded in agreement, a small smile tugging at your lips as you looked at Sunghoon. “We see each other around. We’re both pretty busy with different things on campus.”

Sunghoon’s sister teased, “You two are pretty close, though, aren’t you?”

Sunghoon barely met your eyes, his lips curling into a tight, controlled smile. You mirrored his smile but said nothing, feeling the tension between you both grow.

“Well, it’s great to see you both getting along!” his mom said, clearly happy with the easy atmosphere. “It’s nice to have a friendly face on campus.”

Before Sunghoon could respond, his sister pulled you away with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Come on, let’s go help with the flowers,” she said, nudging you gently. “We’ll let Sunghoon handle things for a bit.”

Sunghoon watched you both walk off, his gaze lingering on your retreating figure. His thoughts swirled, but before he could gather them, his mom caught his eye, giving him a knowing look. She didn’t comment, but her silence spoke volumes.

Sunghoon took a deep breath, his mind still racing. Whatever this was, it was far from over.

The evening settled in, casting a golden glow through the large windows of the hotel. The once-chaotic venue was finally coming together—round tables adorned with pristine tablecloths, floral arrangements meticulously placed, and staff scurrying around to finalize details.

You stood near a reception table, clipboard in hand, while Sunghoon’s sister leaned in beside you, skimming through the checklist.

“So, what’s left?” she asked, propping her chin on your shoulder.

You tapped the page with your pen. “Final seating adjustments, sound check, and we still need to confirm the catering schedule.”

She let out a dramatic sigh. “God, I don’t know how you keep up with all this.”

You smirked. “Maybe because I actually enjoy it?”

She gave you a teasing nudge. “Or maybe because you’re a perfectionist, Secretary Committee Girl.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. “I organize things. It’s literally my job in the council.”

Before she could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air.

“You’re overcomplicating the seating chart.”

Your head snapped up, and there he was—Park Sunghoon, standing with his usual composed posture, hands tucked into his pockets, expression unreadable. His mother had been talking to a coordinator nearby, but now, she glanced between the two of you, a small, knowing smile on her lips.

You exhaled through your nose. “We’re adjusting it, not overcomplicating it.”

Sunghoon gave you a flat look. “You moved the executive table again.”

“it needed to be closer to the main stage,” you argued.

“Which messes with the aisle clearance,” he countered.

You opened your mouth to respond, but his mother stepped in smoothly. “You two can argue about seating later. For now, go check on the banquet hall setup. The decorators should be almost done.”

Sunghoon sighed but nodded, while you grabbed your clipboard and turned to his sister. “You coming?”

She waved you off. “Nah, I’m staying here. You two have fun.”

You frowned at her mischievous tone, but the Alpha next to you didn’t give you time to dwell on it. With a tight-lipped expression, he gestured for you to walk ahead.

The large hall was buzzing with activity. Staff were setting up buffet tables, arranging cutlery, and making last-minute touches to the decorations. You and Sunghoon stood near the entrance, scanning the room.

“I’ll check on the centerpiece placements,” you said, glancing at your clipboard. “You can handle the catering status.”

He crossed his arms. “Why do I have to handle catering?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Because I don’t feel like arguing with the head chef.”

Sunghoon huffed but walked off toward the catering team while you made your way toward the floral arrangements. After a few minutes, you stood near the main table.

“They’re behind schedule,” Sunghoon reported, running a hand through his hair. “Something about delayed deliveries.”

You groaned. “Of course.”

You took out your phone, scrolling through your contact list. Sunghoon watched as you expertly navigated the crisis, calling the supplier and getting an update within minutes.

When you hung up, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re really in your element with this.”

You shrugged. “I have to be. The secretary committee basically runs everything behind the scenes.”

He scoffed. “So that’s why you always look stressed on campus.”

You shot him a look. “Excuse me?”

He smirked. “I see you in the student council room all the time, buried under paperwork. I just assumed it was self-inflicted suffering or Jake really hated your guts.”

You rolled your eyes. “Unlike some people, I actually like responsibility.”

Sunghoon just hummed, amused, before looking toward the exit. “Come on, we still have to check the ballroom.”

The ballroom, meant for the main program, was dimly lit as technicians adjusted the spotlights. You and Sunghoon walked toward the stage, where a staff member was testing the mic.

“You handle sound checks?” he asked, sounding mildly impressed.

You nodded. “Part of the job.”

Sunghoon leaned against a nearby pillar, watching as you exchanged instructions with the technicians. His eyes trailed over the way you moved—so effortlessly slipping into control, giving orders with ease, adjusting the smallest details without hesitation. You were in your element, and for a brief moment, he wondered if this was what he had been avoiding all along.

When you finally wrapped up, he glanced at you, voice quieter than before. “You’re really everywhere, huh?”

“That’s kind of the point,” you said, flipping through your notes.

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he looked away, clearing his throat. “So, what’s next?”

You skimmed the checklist. “We need to make sure the VIP section is set up properly.”

Sunghoon groaned. “Please don’t tell me we have to argue about chairs again.”

You smirked. “That depends. Are you going to accept that I’m always right?”

He gave you an unimpressed look but followed you anyway.

The two of you walked through the elegantly arranged VIP tables, double-checking details. At one point, you crouched down to fix a misplaced name card, only to feel Sunghoon standing way too close behind you.

“You’re hovering,” you muttered.

“I’m observing,” he corrected.

You turned your head slightly, only to realize just how close he was. His scent—coffee and leather—wrapped around you, warm and grounding. You swallowed, standing up quickly and brushing imaginary dust off your skirt.

His inner alpha stirred, "Weak. You’re running again."

He ignored it.

His gaze traced the slight parting of your lips, the subtle rise and fall of your shoulders as you exhaled. He let himself linger, just for a second, in the space between restraint and surrender. And that’s when the thought crept in, unbidden.

"Is this really what you’re afraid of? Her? Or the way she makes you forget everything else?"

His jaw tightened.

Because it wasn’t just the bond. It wasn’t just attraction. It was the fear of unraveling, of slipping so deep into something he couldn’t control that he’d abandon everything else, his duties, his carefully built walls, the life that was expected of him.

His alpha hummed in amusement. "She makes you weak, but you want her anyway."

Sunghoon swallowed hard, straightening his posture. The warmth in his eyes cooled, replaced by something unreadable.

You frowned slightly at the shift.

He smirked. “Nervous?” His voice was smooth, but there was a sudden distance in it.

You scoffed. “You wish.”

His gaze flickered to your lips for the briefest second before he took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets as if forcing the space between you.

"Coward."

“If you say so,” he hummed.

Before you could respond, a voice interrupted.

“Ah, there you two are.”

Sunghoon turned, shifting his expression into something neutral as his mother approached, clipboard in hand. You straightened up beside him, the moment from before slipping between your fingers like sand.

“I need you both to oversee the final checks while I discuss something with the event coordinators.” His mother’s tone left no room for argument. She gave Sunghoon a look, one that was equal parts expectation and knowing—before handing you the clipboard. “You know what to do.”

You nodded. “Of course, Mrs. Park.”

Sunghoon exhaled slowly through his nose, nodding along as well. It wasn’t like he could say no.

"Another thing you can't say no to, huh?" His alpha taunted.

He clenched his jaw, pushing down the irritation forming in his chest. It wasn’t at you, he knew that much. It was at himself, at the way he was still standing next to you despite everything.

You, however, had already moved on, scanning through the checklist before nudging his arm. “Come on, Park. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish.”

His eyes flicked down to where you touched him, the warmth of your skin seeping through his sleeve. His inner alpha hummed in approval, but he ignored it, following you as you walked through the venue.

As you worked, your voice was steady as you went over the details. “Floral arrangements are set, table placements are final…” You trailed off as you examined the stage setup, flipping a page on the clipboard. “Lighting checks should be done soon. Could you talk to the technicians?”

He raised a brow. “You’re delegating to me now?”

You gave him a pointed look. “I can’t do everything myself.”

Sunghoon smirked despite himself, but there was something bitter about it. You weren’t even flustered around him anymore. When did you stop getting nervous?

His alpha scoffed. "You’re upset about that? Pathetic."

Still, he didn’t argue. He stepped away, scanning the ballroom for the lighting crew before walking off.

By the time he returned, you were deep in conversation with the floral team, gesturing toward one of the centerpieces. His gaze followed your movements—how easily you took control of the situation, how effortlessly you belonged in this environment.

"She’s everywhere. Always in the middle of things, always moving forward."

He rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar tightness forming in his chest. Maybe that’s why he had avoided this for so long. Because standing here, watching you do what you did best, made him realize something.

It wasn’t just about you. It was about him.

The fear wasn’t of falling for you. It was of what that would mean, of what he’d have to let go of to have you.

“Earth to Sunghoon?”

He blinked, snapping back to reality. You were watching him, an amused expression on your face.

“Spacing out already?” you teased. “We’re not even done yet.”

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important,” he muttered, voice clipped.

You frowned at the sudden change in his tone but didn’t push. “Right. Well, let me know if you're ready to go. We still have things to check.”

You walked past him, your scent—honey and lilac—lingering in the air, soft yet unmistakable. His Alpha bristled, pushing at his restraint.

"She’s slipping away. Your Omega is slipping away."

Sunghoon clenched his fists. No. You were right here. He just didn’t know what to do with that.

For now, he settled for following you.

The night air was crisp, carrying a faint chill that hinted at the changing seasons. You barely noticed, too preoccupied with checking off the last few items on your clipboard as you walked through the dimly lit parking lot with Sunghoon’s sister beside you.

“God, if one more person asks me about table placements, I’m quitting this whole thing,” she groaned, rubbing her temples.

You chuckled. “You say that, but you’ll still show up tomorrow looking like you run the place.”

She shot you a tired grin. “Shut up.”

A few steps behind, Sunghoon trailed silently. He wasn’t really listening to the conversation—at least, that’s what he told himself.

But his eyes betrayed him, flickering to you every so often, catching the way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way you absentmindedly tapped your pen against the clipboard, the way your scent of honey and lilacs felt like it was wrapping around him, daring him to step closer.

"She’s right there. Yours. Slipping away."

His inner Alpha’s voice was persistent, lingering in the back of his mind like an ache he refused to acknowledge.

He exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Distance. Control. A clear line between what he felt and what he knew he had to do.

But then you stopped beside your car, unlocking it with a quiet beep. His sister slowed beside you, turning to Sunghoon with a slight frown.

“Hoon, you good?”

Your gaze flickered toward him at the question, eyes searching, like you were trying to figure out what was wrong.

And that was the problem. You always noticed.

The Alpha tensed, his walls slamming back up. His face smoothed over, his posture shifted; cold, detached, unreadable.

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

The change was almost unnoticeable, but you caught it.

Your grip on the clipboard tightened, as if debating whether to push, whether to call him out on it. But instead, you just nodded, lips pressing into a thin line.

“Alright,” you murmured.

His sister sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “You’re both so dramatic.” Then she turned to you, brightening up again. “Don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

You mustered a tired smile. “I won’t.”

Sunghoon stayed silent.

And this time, you didn’t bother looking at him before sliding into your car.

The moment your door shut, his Alpha growled in protest.

"Fix it."

He clenched his jaw, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

“No.”

Your engine rumbled to life, headlights casting long shadows across the pavement. He should’ve looked away, should’ve just walked off—but he didn’t. He watched as you drove off, the sound of your car fading into the night.

A quiet sigh escaped him. His mother.

She didn’t say anything earlier, didn’t scold or pry. She simply looked at him; knowing, like she already had a hint of what was happening.

And for some reason, that made his chest tighten.

So he exhaled, turned on his heel, and walked away.

The Park estate was quieter than usual, save for the faint rustling of leaves outside and the occasional laughter echoing from the living room. Sunghoon leaned back against the couch, one arm draped over the backrest as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone.

The guys had gathered there a few hours before the grand dinner, since it was closer to the venue, and the suits for the evening were going to be delivered directly to the estate. It was comfortable, familiar.

“Bro, do you even listen to yourself?” Sunoo snorted, throwing a cushion at Jungwon, who barely dodged. “You keep saying you care about her, but where are you, huh? If I were your mate, I’d leave your ass.”

Jungwon groaned, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like I’m ignoring her on purpose, okay? I just—”

“Just what?” Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “Bro, you’re literally a pureblooded Alpha. Start acting like one.”

Jake snorted from his spot on the couch, shaking his head. “You talk a lot of shit for someone who barely figured out his own mating bond.”

“Hey, at least I figured it out,” Sunoo shot back. “Jungwon’s still treating his Omega like he's still courting her—he's walking on eggshells.”

Jungwon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t need this right now.” The younger Alpha huffed, slumping into the couch, ears turning a bit red.

Heeseung chuckled. “He’s right, you know. Just follow your instincts. Might help.”

Sunghoon tuned them out. His fingers tapped against his phone screen, his mind elsewhere. That was, until two familiar voices drifted in from the hallway.

“Oh yeah, follow that. Don't be like my brother—can’t relate to the whole instincts thing.”

His sister and Heeseung's mate.

Sunghoon barely registered her words, but the comment stung more than he expected. He tensed up, feeling his jaw clench involuntarily.

They didn’t even glance his way, walking past them straight to the kitchen.

For some reason, it made him feel smaller than he ever wanted to. He stayed quiet, his grip on his phone tightened, focusing on the lack of sound in the room.

Jungwon’s eyebrows lifted. “Uh… hello? You good?”

Ni-ki leaned forward, grinning. “Yeah, that was kinda weak, man. You always have something to say.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His thoughts were spiraling too fast, his Alpha stirring like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

"They’re right. You’ve been avoiding this for too long."

His jaw clenched.

"Why? Because you’re scared? Because you think pushing her away makes you stronger? You already know the answer, don’t you?

Sunghoon snapped."

A low, warning growl left his throat, deep and sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

His scent soured, something bitter and tense.

The room fell silent.

Sunghoon immediately regretted it.

His friends weren’t scared, he knew that much—but they were surprised. He never let his emotions slip like that, never let his control falter.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Damn, man,” he muttered, clearly surprised. “You good?”

Sunghoon exhaled slowly, pressing his thumb against his temple.

Jungwon, still startled, hesitated before speaking. “Hey, man, relax…”

And then, Jungwon added, almost absently—

“What’s got you all messed up? It’s like you—”

Sunghoon cut him off. “I met my mate.”

The words left his mouth before he even fully registered what he was saying.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Sunoo was the first to recover. “What?”

Jungwon’s eyes widened as he processed what Sunghoon had said. “Wait—what?”

Sunghoon leaned back against the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. His heartbeat felt louder in his ears now, the weight of his own admission settling in. “I met my mate,” he repeated, this time with more certainty, but still unsure.

Jake let out a low whistle. “Well, shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Didn’t think I’d hear that today.”

Jay was still staring at him like he had grown a second head. “You?”

Sunghoon shot him a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jay raised his hands in defense. “I mean, dude, it’s you. You’ve never even cared about that kind of stuff. I just—when? How?”

Sunghoon hesitated. He hadn’t planned on saying this out loud, let alone explaining it. The moment he said the words, it felt like he had given away the control he had spent years perfecting—it had just cracked at the edges.

Sunoo narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, and who?”

Ni-ki looked almost wary. “Wait, wait, hold up—are you sure?”

Sunghoon shot him a flat look. “You think I’d joke about this?”

“No, but you also don’t exactly seem sure,” Ni-ki pointed out.

That was fair.

Because the truth was, Sunghoon wasn’t sure, not fully. Or at least, he had spent the last few days convincing himself he wasn’t sure. Because if he admitted it, that meant things had to change.

And Sunghoon hated change.

Heeseung, who had been the quietest of them all, finally spoke up. His voice was calm. “Since when?”

Sunghoon pressed his lips together.

“Sunghoon,” Heeseung pushed, more insistent this time. “How long have you known?”

A muscle in Sunghoon’s jaw ticked. “…A while.”

Another silence stretched between them, heavier this time.

Sunoo groaned, running a hand down his face. “You knew and didn’t say anything?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer.

Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “Bro, what the hell?”

Ni-ki leaned forward, his expression sharper now. “You’re seriously fighting this?” His voice was wary, frustrated. Despite being the youngest, he thought it was stupid—this was instincts, this was nature.

The gods themselves had chosen fated mates with intention. Rejecting that was like rejecting the sky, the air, the pull of the ocean’s tide. It made no sense to him. “Why would you reject something that’s meant for you?”

Jungwon, usually the more level-headed one, actually agreed. “Ni-ki’s right,” he muttered. “You’re making this way harder than it has to be.”

Sunghoon snapped.

“You think I had a choice?” His voice came out sharper than he meant, louder. His scent flared again, dominance pouring out of him.

And that set them all off.

Because they weren’t just Alphas. They were pureblooded Alphas, born and bred into power, and when dominance was challenged, instinct demanded they answer.

Jake and Jay shot him a glare, their own scents spiking as an automatic reaction. Jungwon bared his teeth slightly, frustration and something close to disbelief flickering in his eyes. Sunoo looked like he wanted to hit him.

“Yeah, you had a choice,” Sunoo threw back. “And you blew it!”

Ni-ki’s glare sharpened. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “You think this is a fucking game? Do you know how many Alphas would kill to even find their mate?”

Sunghoon clenched his fists. “It’s not that simple.”

Jay barked out a short, humorless laugh. “No, you’re just making it complicated.”

Sunghoon had had enough.

He shot up from the couch, turned on his heel, and walked out, his footsteps heavy against the marble flooring, his scent still bitter, still unsettled. He didn’t care where he was going. He just needed to get out.

Sunoo and Heeseung exchanged glances before following after him.

The afternoon air was cooler than he expected. He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, trying to breathe.

Sunoo was the first to break the silence. “Dude,” he muttered, “what the hell is going on with you?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer immediately. He stared out at the sunlit garden, hands in his pockets, jaw tight.

Heeseung leaned against the railing beside him. “Talk to us.” His voice was calm. “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Sunghoon let out a short, hollow laugh. “Feels like I do.”

Sunoo crossed his arms. “No, you’re just choosing to.”

Silence.

Sunghoon’s fingers twitched. He didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know how to make them understand.

“I…” He exhaled sharply, tilting his head back. “I don’t want this.”

Sunoo furrowed his brows. “Why?”

Sunghoon swallowed hard. “Because I don’t know how to be that person. A mate. A bond. A life that’s—” He shook his head. “I wasn’t made for that.”

heeseung sighed, rubbing his temple before stepping in. “sunghoon, listen to yourself. you’re treating this like it’s some kind of punishment.”

sunghoon let out a heavy breath, the weight in his chest pressing down harder. “it feels like one,” he admitted.

“because—” sunghoon continued, closing his eyes for a brief second before looking away. “because it means everything changes. i change.”

Sunoo scoffed, shaking his head. “And? What’s so bad about that?”

Sunghoon turned to him, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get it—”

“No, you don’t get it.” Sunoo cut him off. “You’re not losing yourself, Sunghoon. You’re finding something—someone that was always meant to be yours.”

Heeseung nodded, stepping closer. “And having an Omega to call yours? That’s a responsibility in itself, one you were always meant to take on. You’re not abandoning anything—you’re taking something just as important.”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. He wanted to argue, wanted to fight back—but the truth was, deep down, he knew they were right.

The thought alone terrified him.

The event was already in full swing by the time Sunghoon arrived, the grand ballroom glowing with golden chandeliers and the murmur of polite conversation.

His polished shoes clicked against the marble floors as he stepped in alongside the others, all of them dressed in perfectly tailored suits, their hair styled to absolute precision. They looked every bit like the pureblooded Alphas they were raised to be: refined, dominant, untouchable.

But none of that mattered the second he spotted you.

You were standing near the center of the room, surrounded by a group of familiar faces—his sister, Jungwon’s mate, Heeseung’s mate, and other Omegas of high standing. A tight-knit circle of Omegas that radiated grace and effortless elegance, laughing softly amongst themselves, their delicate fingers wrapped around champagne flutes.

And then there was you.

Your gown hugged your frame in all the right places before cascading down in soft waves, your hair curled to perfection, makeup flawless, lips painted a shade he couldn’t quite name but suddenly wanted to memorize.

It pissed him off.

Not because you looked good—no, that was obvious. It was the fact that you had noticed him, just as he had noticed you, but chose to act like he wasn’t even there.

He saw it. The way your shoulders tensed when he stepped into your vision, how your fingers gripped your champagne glass just a little tighter. But you didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t even glance his way.

Like the past few days of him being distant meant nothing.

And that—that frustrated him more than anything.

A cough sounded beside him.

“Karma,” Sunoo smirked, enjoying every second of this.

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. Jungwon outright grinned. Even Heeseung—calm, composed Heeseung—gave him a knowing glance, like he had expected this from the start.

But the worst was Ni-ki.

The youngest in the group, ever observant, leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for them to hear.

“Damn,” Ni-ki mused, tilting his head. “That must hurt.”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, ignoring the way the others tried to suppress their laughter.

His gaze flickered back to you.

Still not looking at him.

Sunghoon barely had a moment to collect himself before the inevitable happened.

People noticed them.

It was impossible not to.

A group of young, pureblooded Alpha heirs walking into a gathering like this, dressed to perfection, exuding confidence and power—of course, eyes turned their way.

The murmurs started almost instantly, subtle yet unmistakable. A few heads turned, quiet whispers rippling through the crowd as their names carried weight in these circles.

They barely had a chance to exchange glances before they were pulled into conversations, their group dispersing as they were greeted by family acquaintances, business partners, and distant relatives.

Sunghoon knew how this worked. He had been raised for it, trained to move through these events with effortless charm and perfect composure.

His feet carried him toward his parents, who were seated at a table near your group. His father, deep in conversation with a few business partners, barely glanced at him before greeting him with a firm pat on the shoulder. His mother, ever the composed woman, gave him a knowing look before murmuring, “You’re late.”

Sunghoon exhaled, adjusting the cuff of his suit. “Got caught up.”

His father chuckled, still half-distracted. “Ah, well. You made it.”

Before Sunghoon could take a step back, a familiar voice cut in.

“Well, if it isn’t Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon turned, and his expression barely shifted, though he immediately recognized the man.

An older Alpha, mid-forties, silver-streaked hair, broad-shouldered and sharp-eyed. Someone deeply tied to their family’s business dealings—one of his father’s closest partners.

“It’s been a while since I saw you,” the man continued, raising his glass in greeting. His tone was casual. “You’ve grown into quite the spitting image of your father.”

Sunghoon offered a small, polite nod. “It’s good to see you again.”

The older Alpha chuckled, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Good to see you too, kid. I remember when you were still a runt, running around at these events like you had better places to be.”

Sunghoon let out a short, practiced laugh. “Not much has changed.”

That earned another chuckle. Then, with an amused tilt of his head, the older Alpha leaned back slightly in his chair.

“You must have Omegas swooning left and right,” he mused, swirling his glass lazily. “With that face of yours, I bet they’re lining up.”

Sunghoon let out a soft breath, shaking his head. “I don’t have time for that.”

It was an easy response. Dismissive, effortless. A throwaway comment.

Except his eyes betrayed him.

Because, without thinking, his gaze flickered right back to you.

And you heard him. Of course, you did.

Omegas had sharper senses than most. Your hearing was leagues above everyone else’s, and Sunghoon knew it.

He knew it the moment he saw your grip on the champagne glass tighten ever so slightly. The way your shoulders straightened just a little more.

But you didn’t react, not outwardly.

Instead, you let out a small, polite laugh, face perfectly neutral. Then, in the same smooth, composed tone you always used at events like this, you excused yourself.

Sunghoon stiffened.

But it wasn’t just you who reacted.

His sister’s gaze snapped to him almost immediately, a flicker of something unmistakable in her expression: disappointment.

She said nothing, but she didn’t need to. The look alone said everything.

And she wasn’t the only one.

His mother, ever observant, barely shifted in her seat, but the sharp glint in her eyes told him she had caught on too.

Sunghoon swallowed.

He shouldn’t follow you.

He should’ve let it go.

But before he even realized it, his feet were already moving.

The hall leading to the restrooms was dimly lit, the golden glow of the chandeliers fading the further you walked. The music and chatter from the ballroom dulled behind you, muffled and distant, as if the world was deliberately pulling away, leaving you alone with your thoughts, with the weight on your chest.

Your back hit the wall beside the restroom entrance, your breathing sharp and uneven.

Your inner Omega whimpered, "Not here. Not now."

You clenched your fists at your sides, nails pressing into your palms as you fought the sting behind your eyes.

You had known. You had always known how this would end.

And yet, standing there, shoulders stiff, throat tight, your pulse hammering against your skin, you hated that it still hurt.

You sucked in a breath, blinking up at the ceiling, forcing the tears back.

You would not cry.

Not in front of him.

And yet, the moment you sensed his presence, the moment his scent curled around you; thick, intoxicating, overwhelming, your body betrayed you.

Your fingers twitched.

Your breathing faltered.

You hated yourself for giving in so easily.

“What do you want, Sunghoon?” Your voice was cold, but the slight tremble at the end, barely there, almost unnoticeable, gave you away.

He stopped a few feet away, his hands flexing at his sides.

He was staring at you, his gaze dark, conflicted, like he didn’t know why he was here either.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I—”

“You what?” You cut him off, your voice sharp, edged with something dangerously close to heartbreak.

He exhaled, pressing his lips into a thin line.

You almost laughed. Of course.

“Nothing to say?” You scoffed, tilting your head. “Then why are you here?”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly.

You hated the way your chest clenched at the sight.

Hated the way his tie had loosened slightly, the way a strand of hair had fallen over his forehead, the way he looked so frustratingly undone for the first time tonight.

“You push me away.” Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. “You act like I don’t exist. And now you’re here, acting like you—” You swallowed, shaking your head. “You don’t get to do this, Sunghoon.”

His lips parted slightly.

“You don’t get to act like I matter when you’ve made it very clear that I don’t.”

Something cracked in his gaze. And for the first time, he looked afraid.

“I never said that,” he muttered, his voice softer now.

“You didn’t have to.”

Silence.

A suffocating silence. Your throat burned. You couldn’t do this. You turned to leave, to push past him, to breathe—

But suddenly—

You couldn’t move, and before you could react, a strong, calloused hand wrapped around your wrist—firm, desperate.

Your breath hitched.

Sunghoon pulled you back—hard—and in the span of a heartbeat, you collided straight into his chest.

The impact knocked the air from your lungs.

His scent swallowed you whole.

You gasped sharply, your knees nearly giving out.

And then—

Warmth.

Overwhelming, all-consuming warmth, his arms were around you.

One wrapped tight around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The other cradled the back of your head, fingers weaving through your hair—steady, like he was terrified of letting go.

Your chest heaved against his, hands fisting his suit jacket so tightly your knuckles ached.

But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care.

Not when his heart was hammering against yours, not when his grip on you was desperate, not when his entire body was trembling, like he was breaking just as much as you were.

Your breath came out shaky. “Let me go.”

He didn’t. He tightened his hold.

“Sunghoon.” Your voice cracked.

His head dipped lower, his breath fanning against your temple.

“I can’t.”

Your stomach flipped violently. Tears spilled down your cheeks, hot and relentless.

“You—” You squeezed your eyes shut, your grip on his suit tightening. “You’re such a fucking coward.”

His body tensed. But he didn’t pull away. Didn’t loosen his hold. Didn’t deny it.

Instead, his fingers curled into the fabric of your dress. And for the first time—Sunghoon let his instincts win.

Your hands gripped his suit tighter as your chest heaved, a strangled sob breaking free before you could stop it. The tears were now, falling fast and hot, no longer something you could hold back.

You pressed your face into his chest, the fabric of his suit absorbing the wetness, but it did nothing to soothe the ache inside you.

Sunghoon’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened. He pulled you in closer, as if trying to protect you from everything.

The shaking of his hands on your back was evident, and the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths made your heart ache for him in ways you didn’t understand.

“Don't cry, Omega, please.” His voice was barely a whisper.

You shook your head, the words stuck in your throat. It felt like all the pain you’d buried, all the frustration, the confusion, the rejection—it was spilling out at once. You were drowning in it, and you didn’t know how to stop.

But his plea only made the sobs come harder, breaking free from your throat like you had been holding them in for years.

His arms tightened around you again, as if he could physically hold your pain together, as if he could stop you from shattering completely.

“I hate you.” The words barely made it past your lips, muffled against his chest, but he heard them.

You knew he heard them.

Because his entire body stiffened for a split second before his grip on you softened, his hand sliding from your waist to your lower back, the one behind your head shifting, his fingers threading into your hair with a gentleness that almost hurt.

“I know,” he murmured, voice so quiet it was almost lost in the silence of the hallway.

Your body shook against his, another sob wracking through you, and he just held you.

Not saying anything.

Not pulling away.

Just letting you break in his arms the way you had never allowed yourself to before.

Minutes passed, or maybe seconds—it didn’t matter.

Time felt frozen between you, the weight of everything crashing down in the space between your heavy breaths. Your mascara had smudged against the fabric of his suit, staining it, but he didn’t seem to care. He just kept holding you, his scent wrapping around you, keeping you from completely falling apart.

And then, finally—finally—you found your voice.

“Why?"

A single word. Quiet. Shaky. But sharp enough to cut through the silence.

Sunghoon stilled.

“Why did you do it?" Your voice cracked, but you pushed forward, your hands gripping his suit even tighter. “Why did you act like I didn’t exist? Like I was nothing to you? Why did you pretend you didn’t care when you—when you—" Another sob clawed its way out of your throat, your fingers trembling where they clung to him. “When you do this? When you hold me like this, like you actually—"

Your voice faltered, and Sunghoon inhaled sharply. His grip on you loosened, just enough for him to pull back slightly, just enough for him to see your face. His fingers, still shaking, brushed against your cheek, tracing over the tear-stained skin, his thumb wiping away the wetness that refused to stop falling.

His hands paused for a second.

And then—so, so softly—he spoke.

“I was scared.”

Your breath hitched.

“Scared?" you muttered, barely above a whisper.

He nodded, swallowing hard, his jaw clenching like he was fighting something inside himself. His fingers brushed against your cheek again, hesitating, before cupping your face fully, his touch impossibly gentle.

“I didn’t know how to handle it," he admitted, voice soft, filled with something unrecognizable. “I didn’t know how to handle you."

Your brows furrowed, your heart pounding painfully against your ribs.

“Sunghoon—"

“Everything in my life has always been about responsibility," he cut in, his grip on your face tightening slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you were listening. “I was raised to be strong, to take over, to lead—to never let anything distract me from what I was meant to do."

His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone, and his gaze softened—just barely.

“And then there was you.”

The words came out barely above a whisper, but they sent a shiver down your spine.

Sunghoon let out a shaky breath, his forehead nearly pressing against yours. “You were never supposed to be a part of that plan.”

Pain flared in your chest, sharp and unrelenting.

“So what?" you whispered, voice trembling. “You thought ignoring me would make it easier?"

His eyes squeezed shut, his expression twisting into something almost pained. “I thought if I pretended you didn’t exist, it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

A bitter laugh left your lips. “And did it?"

Sunghoon let out a slow breath, his hands stilling against your skin. His silence was the only answer you needed.

He was breaking, right in front of you.

And for the first time, you saw it. The fear in his eyes. The weight on his shoulders. The guilt, the regret, the want.

“You absolute coward," you whispered, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. “You let your fear ruin everything. You let it destroy me."

Sunghoon inhaled sharply, his fingers pressing against your skin like he was afraid you would slip away.

“I know," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

And then, as if he couldn’t help himself, his hands moved again, thumbs tracing over your cheeks, smudging the mascara-stained tears without a care that his fingers were getting stained too.

He was looking at you now. Really looking at you.

Even with tear-streaked cheeks, even with mascara smudged against your skin, he thought you were beautiful.

You always had been.

And maybe that had been the scariest part of all.

He exhaled shakily, his forehead finally pressing against yours.

“I was so focused on all the responsibilities I had," he whispered, eyes fluttering shut, “that I forgot the most important one was right in front of me."

You. It had always been you.

And for the first time in forever, he stopped fighting it.

His hands trembled as he pulled you close again, wrapping you in his warmth, as if trying to make up for every second he had spent pretending you didn’t exist.

His heartbeat that was once steady, always controlled, was frantic against your cheek, like his body itself was betraying him, exposing everything he had kept hidden for so long.

“I’m sorry," he murmured against your hair, his voice soft, stripped bare of all the indifference he had once worn so easily.

Again.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

And again.

“I’m sorry."

Each word landed like a plea, an ache.

His hands clutched at the fabric of your dress, fingers curling against your back as he buried his face into your shoulder. His breaths were uneven, his hold desperate like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d slip through his fingers for good.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the feeling of his regret pressing against your chest like a force you weren’t sure you could withstand.

“I really hate you," you whispered, voice unsteady, and you felt the sharp inhale he took against your skin.

But you didn’t move away. Neither did he.

“I know," he murmured. He didn’t argue. Didn’t try to make excuses. He just held you.

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping the lapels of his suit. “I understand you more than you think."

A breath passed between you, thick with everything unsaid.

Slowly, hesitantly, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands moving from your back to cup your face. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away the tear-streaked trails, smearing the black mascara that had run down your skin more than before.

His hands were shaking.

His fingers, stained with the remnants of your pain, trembled as they held you.

But he didn’t stop.

“You do?" His voice was so quiet, so uncertain, it almost broke you all over again.

You nodded. Because you did. You understood.

You had always known Sunghoon was never just the eldest son of his family, never just the heir, never just the perfect pureblooded Alpha everyone expected him to be. He carried burdens he never spoke of, expectations that weighed him down like chains.

And you understood now, you understood that loving you, wanting you, was the one thing he had never been taught how to handle.

Sunghoon exhaled sharply, his forehead nearly knocking against yours as he leaned closer, the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words sent a violent shudder down your spine. Your breath caught, your heart twisting painfully in your chest.

Because this moment, this hesitation, this vulnerability in his voice—was not the Sunghoon everyone else knew.

This was the boy who had spent so long running. This was the boy who had finally stopped.

“It doesn’t mean you’re forgiven,” you murmured, even as your fingers curled against his chest.

For the first time that night, Sunghoon laughed. Soft. Shaky. Breathless. But real.

“I know,” he whispered, and then, slowly, finally, he closed the distance.

His lips met yours, and the world stopped spinning.

The first press of his lips was soft, like he was still afraid, still unsure if he deserved this, deserved you.

But then you exhaled against his mouth, a shaky breath that tasted like surrender, and something inside him snapped. The hesitation was gone.

Sunghoon’s hands, still cupping your face, tilted your head just enough for him to deepen the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that bordered on desperation. His body caged you in, pressing you against the cool wall behind you, but all you could feel was him—his warmth, his scent, his everything—surrounding you, consuming you.

His grip tightened. One hand slid down, fingers grazing your jaw, your throat, before curling around the small of your back and pulling you in.

Closer. Not close enough.

A small gasp escaped you, and Sunghoon swallowed it, exhaling a sharp breath against your mouth before chasing your lips again. His movements were rougher now, more frantic, like he was trying to pour every unspoken word, every regret, every missed moment into the kiss.

Like he was trying to prove something. That he was sorry. That he wanted you. That he needed you.

His other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your face up further, deepening the kiss until you felt dizzy, breathless—like you were floating, like you were falling.

And god, maybe you were. Maybe you had been all this time.

Your fingers fisted his suit, clinging to him. His lips, now hot and insistent, barely gave you a second to breathe—like he was terrified that if he pulled away, even for a moment, you’d disappear.

But you weren’t going anywhere.

You melted into him, letting yourself get lost in the moment, in the way his body trembled against yours, in the quiet, choked noise he made when your fingers finally, finally slid up to his hair.

It was intoxicating—the way he kissed you—like he was trying to make up for every second he had wasted, every touch he had denied himself, every moment he had spent pretending he didn’t want this.

Didn’t want you.

Your lungs burned, your heart pounded, and yet neither of you pulled away, unwilling to break whatever fragile, breathless thing had formed between you.

Sunghoon made a strangled noise against your lips before reluctantly—so reluctantly—he tore himself away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath ragged, his lips red and swollen.

His eyes, dark and dazed, fluttered open to meet yours.

And then, barely above a whisper, voice wrecked, he murmured,

“Stay.”

A single word, but it held everything. A plea. A confession. A promise wrapped in desperation.

Your fingers tightened in his suit. “I’m not going anywhere, Sunghoon.” Your voice was steady, but thick with emotion. “Even when you push me away. Even when you try to pretend I don’t exist.”

His hands, still cupping your face, trembled. “Never again.” It came out like a vow. Like a prayer.

His thumbs brushed over your damp cheeks, smearing what remained of your ruined mascara. His grip on you didn’t loosen—if anything, he pressed his forehead against yours, inhaling deeply, as if he was making sure you were real.

The silence stretched between you, heavy, but not suffocating. Not anymore. Then, suddenly, he straightens—“We need to fix you up.”

You blinked. “What?”

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, scanning your face, your tear-streaked cheeks, the smudges of black under your eyes. Then, without another word, his fingers curled around your wrist, tugging you toward the restrooms.

“The female restroom is that way,” you pointed out, confused.

“I know.”

Your steps faltered. “You’re not allowed in there.”

Sunghoon scoffed, barely sparing you a glance. “As if I’m letting you out of my sight again.”

Your heart flipped.

Before you could protest, he pushed open the door, dragging you inside with him. The moment it clicked shut, he turned to you. “Up.”

You blinked. “What?”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes before gripping your waist and lifting you effortlessly, placing you onto the cool marble counter like you weighed nothing.

You gasped. “Sunghoon—”

But he was already turning to the faucet, pulling a Dior handkerchief from his pocket. You watched, breath caught in your throat, as he ran it under the water, fingers tightening around the fine cloth.

And then, with the utmost care, he turned back to you.

Your knees brushed as he stepped between your legs, his touch impossibly gentle as he cupped your face, tilting it slightly. The wet fabric pressed against your cheek, cool against your overheated skin, and Sunghoon—god, Sunghoon—wiped at the tear stains, the smudged makeup, his fingers brushing over your skin like he was handling something fragile.

Something precious.

You couldn’t stop staring.

The way his brows furrowed in concentration. The way his jaw clenched whenever he came across a particularly stubborn stain. The way his lips pressed together—like he was trying to hold back words he wasn’t ready to say.

The way he touched you. Like you were his. Like you had always been his.

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

And when he finally, finally met your gaze again, his own eyes filled with something unreadable—something raw—you realized, with stunning clarity, that you had never really stood a chance against Park Sunghoon.

Not then. Not now. Not ever.

A shaky exhale left your lips.

He was still staring at you, drinking in every detail, like he was memorizing the way you looked, the way your lashes trembled, the way your lips parted as if you had something to say but didn’t know how.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His voice was quieter than usual, but the tease was still there, laced with something softer.

You blinked, startled, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. “What?”

His lips curled slightly, but there was something about his smirk—something less sharp, less guarded. Something that made your pulse stutter. “You were staring.”

Your stomach twisted. Of course, he would notice. Your first instinct was to scoff, to roll your eyes, to dismiss it like you always did—but before you could, you felt it. The shift.

Your scent spiked—not in distress, not in discomfort, but in something else. Something sweeter.

The scent of honey and lilacs curled around him, delicate yet intoxicating, a confession wrapped in something neither of you had the words to say.

Sunghoon inhaled. Slowly. Deliberately.

His lashes fluttered for the briefest second, his fingers tightening just slightly around yours, before his smirk faded entirely.

And then, wordlessly, he leaned in.

He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t second-guess.

His lips found your forehead, pressing into your skin with the kind of tenderness that made your breath catch in your throat.

And he stayed there. Lingering. Savoring.

His breath was warm, brushing against your temple, the tip of his nose barely grazing your hairline.

You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, the corner of his lips twitching slightly. “Come on,” he murmured, voice still hoarse.

You barely had time to process it before he moved, guiding you off the counter with his hands firm at your waist, catching you when your balance faltered.

But he didn’t step away. Didn’t loosen his grip.

Instead, his fingers threaded through yours, locking them in place as if letting go was never an option. You blinked up at him, breath uneven.

“You ready?” His voice was quieter now, softer in a way that made your breath hitch.

You swallowed, throat tight. Then slowly, you nodded. And just like that, he pulled you with him. Hand in hand.

The warmth of his palm was steady against yours, fingers locked. It wasn’t just an absentminded touch, wasn’t something he would let go of the second someone looked too long.

No, this was different. This was him choosing you. Claiming you as his mate. And the second you stepped out, the change in the atmosphere was immediate.

Silence. Then whispers. A sea of murmurs spread through the ballroom like wildfire, voices hushed yet urgent, their curiosity thick enough to suffocate.

Heads turned, eyes widened, people stared.

Alphas. Betas. Omegas.

They looked, and looked, and looked. Their shock crackled through the air like static electricity, palpable in every held breath, every barely concealed gasp, every sharp glance exchanged between one another.

You could feel their questions hanging in the air, unspoken yet deafening. Was this real? When did this happen? How did this happen?

Their gazes burned into your skin—some filled with intrigue, others laced with disbelief, and a few even brimming with something close to envy.

Because this wasn’t just anyone walking out of a room hand in hand with Park Sunghoon. This was you. And Sunghoon? He didn’t even blink.

He didn’t falter under the weight of their stares, didn’t acknowledge the whispers that carried his name in hushed, scandalized tones.

No, he just walked.

Back straight, shoulders squared, head held high. As if this had been the plan all along. As if this was exactly where he was supposed to be. And with every step forward, the hushed murmurs only grew.

Some Alphas scoffed—exchanging skeptical glances—as if trying to convince themselves they weren’t impressed. Some Omegas straightened, eyes wide with a mix of admiration and disbelief. Others, Betas included, simply watched, unable to look away, their expressions unreadable.

But none of them mattered. Not to you. Not to him.

Sunghoon’s grip on you remained firm, and even as the weight of the room threatened to crush you—even as the world outside of this moment blurred into nothing but an afterthought—one thing became blindingly clear.

You weren’t walking behind him. You weren’t trailing after him, waiting for him to decide when to let go.

No, you were right there, beside him. Right where he wanted you to be. And for the first time in a long, long time, you weren’t afraid to be seen.

Sunghoon shot a smirk over his shoulder before tugging you even closer, his grip on your waist effortlessly firm. Your hands barely had time to react before his fingers slipped from yours—only to be replaced by the steady warmth of his palm pressing against the curve of your hip.

The moment you reached their designated table, all conversation died. The six boys stared, mouths slightly open, like they had collectively short-circuited.

“What the fuck?”

The words came from Sunoo, cutting through the silence. He blinked once. Twice. Then leaned back in his chair, hand over his chest like he had just witnessed a crime.

For a second, nobody spoke. Then, slowly, as if processing what he had just seen, Sunoo exhaled and shook his head in mock devastation.

“I feel like a proud dad,” he said, voice thick with fake emotion. “My boy finally grew a pair.”

Jake choked on his drink. Jay slapped the table. Ni-ki let out an actual wheeze, gripping his stomach like he physically couldn’t handle it.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon just sighed, clearly regretting every life choice that had led to this moment.

“Shut up,” he muttered, shoving Sunoo’s chair with his foot.

“Oh no, no, no,” Sunoo replied, shaking his head. “You don’t get to shut me up after making us sit through weeks of your bullshit. You brooded for so long.”

“You were insufferable,” Heeseung chimed in, still recovering from his initial shock.

“Actually unbearable,” Jake added.

Ni-ki snickered, nudging Jungwon. “Tell me I’m lying.”

Jungwon exhaled through his nose and pinched the bridge of it, like he was physically restraining himself from joining in. Instead, he turned to you.

“I respect you so much,” he said seriously, nodding. “For putting up with this.”

You smiled awkwardly at first, not really sure what to say. But then you caught the way they all looked at you—not like a stranger, not even like someone new. No, they knew you. Maybe not personally, but definitely through him.

Sunghoon had been avoiding his feelings, but he hadn't been quiet about them, either.

“I wouldn’t say patient,” you admitted, finally finding your words. “I just… didn’t want to force anything.”

Jay clicked his tongue, shooting Sunghoon a look. “You’re lucky she even gave you that chance, man.”

Jake leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “You do realize you can’t run forever, right?”

Sunghoon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I wasn’t running.”

“Bro, you practically had track shoes on,” Ni-ki deadpanned.

Heeseung smirked. “But at least you were smart enough to stop and follow.”

Just as Sunghoon was about to retort, a flurry of movement caught everyone’s attention.

Across the room, Sunghoon’s sister, along with Heeseung’s mate and Jungwon’s mate, almost ran over to you, practically shoving through the crowd. Sunghoon barely had time to react before his sister skidded to a stop in front of the table, eyes blown wide.

“When did this happen?!” she demanded, breathless.

You blinked. “Uh… a few minutes ago?”

A sharp gasp.

“Oh my god,” Heeseung’s mate clutched his arm, her face pale as if she might actually pass out.

Heeseung sighed and started fanning her with his hand. “Breathe, babe. Breathe. You knew this would happen eventually.”

“Did I? Did I really?” she shot back, eyes still locked on you and Sunghoon like she was watching the finale of a long-running drama.

Jungwon’s mate wasn’t any better. She was bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, excitement thrumming through her whole body. Jungwon, ever the responsible one, subtly reached over and stole her champagne glass before she could drop it.

“This is insane,” she whispered, eyes wide. “Like, historical. I need a moment.”

But while that mess was happening, Sunghoon’s sister was not celebrating the way the others were. No, she was glaring directly at Sunghoon, hands on her hips, looking like she was about to throw hands.

“You—” she started, voice rising.

Before she could even think about launching herself at her brother, Sunoo—who, unfortunately for Sunghoon, also happened to be her mate—stood up and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back.

“Alright, alright, let’s not start a scene, love,” he said smoothly, voice light but firm.

She squirmed against his hold. “I just want to talk to him—”

“Liar,” Sunoo deadpanned.

“Park Sunghoon, you forced the poor omega to accept you as your mate, didn’t you?” she accused, jabbing a finger in his direction.

Sunghoon blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah! You probably made (Y/N) feel like she had to accept you just because you’re all high and mighty—”

Sunoo sighed and pulled her back against his chest, locking both arms around her now. “Hoon, just let her get it out of her system. She’s been waiting for this day for too long.”

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head. “I actually said yes willingly, if that helps.”

Sunghoon’s sister froze. “You did? Like… willingly-willingly?”

“Willingly-willingly,” you confirmed, amused.

She blinked. Then sighed dramatically, leaning into Sunoo’s hold. “Well… okay. But if he screws this up, I will come for him.”

“Noted,” Sunghoon muttered.

Sunoo patted her head like she was an over-excited puppy. “There, there. You’ll survive this.”

Sunoo shot Sunghoon a smirk over her shoulder. “But man, you’re never living this down.”

Sunghoon groaned. “I hate all of you.”

Jay grinned, raising his glass. “Love you too, man.”

Sunghoon let out another sigh, but despite his grumbling, his hold on you was steady as he guided you toward an empty seat.

With ease, he pulled the chair out for you and waited until you sat down before moving to adjust the trail of your gown, making sure it was neatly tucked away so no one—especially him—would step on it.

The entire table had fallen eerily quiet.

It wasn’t an awkward silence. It was the kind of silence that felt like everyone was holding their breath, watching something unfold before them in real time, something they never thought they’d actually witness.

Even as Sunghoon straightened up, his focus remained on you. His eyes scanned your face with the same attention he always gave to important things, searching for anything he might’ve missed.

Apparently, he had missed something.

Without a word, he reached out, the pad of his thumb brushing against the edge of your eye, carefully swiping away the faintest smudge of mascara that had escaped his first attempt.

Your breath hitched.

But the Alpha wasn’t done.

Satisfied with his work, his fingers barely hesitated before they moved to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, letting his knuckles graze your cheek ever so slightly. The touch was brief, but it was enough to send a wave of heat rushing to your face.

You swallowed, pulse slightly unsteady, but managed to send him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Sunghoon hummed in acknowledgment, seemingly unaffected by the entire exchange as he finally settled into his own seat.

He exhaled, relaxed for the first time that night, before slinging an arm around the back of your chair—or maybe it was your waist, you weren’t even sure anymore. His fingers brushed against your side absentmindedly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And yet, the silence remained.

It was as if the group wanted to soak it in, to relish what they had just witnessed before fully reacting.

“I know they’re fated mates and all that,” Ni-ki mumbled, voice tinged with disbelief. “But this is shocking.”

“Right?” Jay breathed out.

“I never thought I’d live to see Sunghoon be so…” Jake trailed off, gesturing vaguely in Sunghoon’s direction.

“Domestic?” Heeseung guessed.

“Whipped,” Sunoo corrected.

Sunghoon let out a long, suffering sigh, tilting his head back against his chair. “Can you all just shut up?”

“Fuck no,” Sunoo said, smirking. “We’re never shutting up about this.”

Jake lifted his glass in mock toast. “To Sunghoon, for finally pulling his head out of his ass.”

Ni-ki followed suit, raising his drink with a grin. “To (Y/N) for somehow handling his brooding for weeks and still willingly agreeing to be his mate.”

Sunghoon groaned, muttering curses under his breath, but his arm around you didn't move.

As the evening stretched on, your table of eleven had finally started to settle. The once chaotic energy mellowed into something softer—comfortable, easy.

Some of the boys were a little tipsy, their words slurring as they tried to argue over something completely irrelevant. Others remained to themselves, quietly nursing their drinks, letting the night wind down at its own pace.

But Sunghoon? Sunghoon was right beside you.

His arm had never left your waist, fingers idly tracing patterns against the fabric of your gown as if he needed the reminder that this was real. His other hand was laced with yours, his grip firm.

He held you like he wasn’t planning to let go anytime soon. And the scent—his scent, coffee and leather tinged with a lingering warmth—wrapped around you, mixing with your own like they belonged together.

You let yourself relax, melting into his hold as the voices around you became distant background noise. Sunghoon exhaled softly, shifting just a bit so he could rest his chin against the side of your head. It wasn’t something anyone else would really notice, but you did. You noticed the way his thumb brushed against your knuckles, the way his heartbeat was steady and slow against your back.

The rest of the table was lost in their own little worlds, some caught in their own quiet moments with their mates, others too caught up in conversation to pay attention.

Heeseung sat comfortably with his mate curled up against him, her head resting against his shoulder as he absentmindedly played with her fingers, their hands intertwined.

Jungwon was just as affectionate, his mate tucked against his side as he nursed a drink in his free hand. Unlike Heeseung, whose touches were slow and casual, Jungwon was openly doting, reaching up every so often to tuck a stray hair behind her ear or brush a kiss against her temple.

Sunoo, of course, was a little more dramatic with his affection. His mate—Sunghoon’s sister—had been sulking in his arms for the past several hours, still processing the events of the night. He cradled her easily, stroking a soothing hand over her hair as she grumbled into his chest.

“I just wasn’t prepared, okay?” she whined, her voice muffled. “This all happened so fast.”

Sunoo hummed, ever patient.

“You don’t understand.”

“I do, though.”

“No, you don’t.”

Sunoo rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. “Fine, you win. I don’t.”

Meanwhile, Ni-ki was watching everything unfold like it was his own personal drama series. His eyes darted between all the couples, mouth slightly open in exaggerated disbelief. “Damn couples,” he muttered, half to himself, half to Jake, who only chuckled.

Sunghoon straightened, rolling his eyes. “Can I have a moment?”

“No,” Sunoo deadpanned, still holding Sunghoon’s sister against his chest. “You wasted weeks brooding. This is our moment too.”

Jake let out a loud laugh. “Yeah, man, we had to sit through so much.”

“I still have secondhand trauma,” Heeseung added.

Jungwon stole the champagne glass from his mate’s hand as he nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, you just buried your face in your free hand, overwhelmed but undeniably warm inside. But before you could even fully process it, you felt his eyes on you, watching the way you tried to hide your flustered expression.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and before you could react, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just for you. “You better get used to this,” he murmured, “because you’re gonna hear a lot more of this for a very long time.”

A very long time.

Forever felt like such a long time, but maybe it was worth it when you finally had your Alpha within arm’s reach.

taglist: @hoonbrry @hime98 @chae-darling @moonchus @peatchiedii @creamkwan @nyfwyeonjun @whoe-dis @woonie-muffin @caelumsjy @90sni-ki @leiomorea @junjungsunwoo @in-somnias-world

© 2025 liuhsng — reblogs are highly appreciated and please don't hesitate to request some fics here if you want me to write anything !

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 8- The REAL beloved princess

_____________________________

"This is so fucking bullshit" someone says as she storms out her used to be office, this someone got fired from her job after management found out she was stealing from the company

She's frustratingly fondling with the keys of her car and drives off in a pissed off state, "What's so good about them anyway.. I was top of my class you assholes! It was just a couple hundred thousand dollars, I needed vacation money!" She yelled

What she didn't notice was the light turning red meaning all cars should stop, then she crashes and hits a teenage girl, she swerved out to run away from the scene but her frantic driving makes her hit a pole and she dies

Then she wakes up as a 9 year old girl, she wakes up as "Viviana"

She's a little socialite and influencer who bullies people poorer than her, once a scandal about her was shown after she was seen throwing her leftovers at a homeless person's head

She's the daughter of a famous whore model and an unknown dad, her mom slept with one of the guests at fashion week and had her

Life was good for Viviana, vacations, designer bags and clothes, private school

When Viviana was 10, at one of her lavish birthday parties an earthquake happened, she was about to get crushed under the debris but a screen popped up

Welcome Reader! To the favorite child au!

Your story goes as someone who lives a normal life, but then when your mother dies, you find out you're the daughter of none other than Bruce Wayne! Aka Batman, the family immediately loves you and you become the most cherished person in the Manor!

After that Viviana's life changed, she was then actively trying to poison her mother so she can start the story of her being loved

She was given missions that gave her points and superpowers as rewards,

So far she has

Super strength, Lazer eyes, and infinity bag (a bag that has whatever she needs or wants at the moment)

At first Viviana didn't want to become a vigilante like the system was telling her to be, but then the opportunity came when she was transferred to Gotham prep, there was a school shooting and her brothers were watching, of course she had to show off

She apprehended the bastards and was praised by the school

Soon she was appearing alongside the bats, She was then given a love meter by her system to see how much they loved her, so far she's at 30%

There was one problem, that one girl

(Name) Wayne.

She wasn't part of the original family!?

Then her system informed her that she was another reincarnated person, but she reincarnated as the "neglected" one

How pitiful, Viviana laughed to herself

The problem is that bitch (Name) made the family love her... She had years with them!? It wasn't fair!

They were even throwing a gala for her birthday, the last straw for Viviana was when Bruce, the man who's supposed to love her most and declare her as the favorite child, danced with the bitch he's supposed to hate!

She couldn't wait and introduced herself right then and there, it was really unfortunate that her mom had died due to the Joker's attack

Why are her brothers smiling at her!? Why are her sisters adoring her!? This wasn't how it's supposed to go! She's the beloved daughter!

Viviana vows to make that change.

The party ended abruptly and now the family find themselves in a private room

Duke leans on the sofa "So you're that protagonist vigilante right?" He looked wary of the new girl

Viviana looked shocked "How did you!?-" Duke laughed recalling a memory, he looked at (Name) "Someone once told me 'A new vigilante appears, Bruce gets a new kid, it's not rocket science' huh (Name)?"

"we'll have to verify the DNA test you handed me" Bruce coughs "Until then you'll stay in a guest room-"

"Master bedroom." Says (Name), the system informed you that his girl is another reincarnated person! You've never thought you'd meet anyone back in your old world! Maybe you and her can help each other with missions and stuff!

Everyone looks at you "What? If she does end up becoming our sister are you going to treat her like how I was first treated? Make her feel welcome" you smiled, you found out that she was reincarnated as the "beloved" one of the Bat family, and her mission is opposite to yours, make everyone love her, you'll help her with that, and maybe she'll help you too

____________________________

Bruce feels tired, he had just made you feel part of the family after years of neglect, he feels like you were finally opening up to them and now you guys can be one happy family

Then Viviana comes.

"Maybe I should just fuck infertile women", he groans, the door opens and comes in the devil "Viviana... Why are you up? It's so late?"

She smiled "I saw how stressed you were at the family meeting earlier... I made you some tea" she said, Bruce falters "How... Thoughtful of you, thank you Viviana"

Bruce smelled the aroma, a sweet scent, he doesn't like sweets but it's fine, it was from his daughter, he took a sip... He was surprised it wasn't sweet at all, it was a bit bitter with a tangy taste, it wasn't a good tea, but who is he to complain?

Reader- um I mean... Protagonist! His love meter is going up in an alarming rate! What happened?

"I told you to not mess up on what you call me..." Viviana angrily whispered, I mean, she was the protagonist, so she doesn't see a problem on why the system shouldn't call her that

Viviana relaxed in an armchair near her father's desk "You know... My tea has a special ingredient... First it's him then the others... And then the entirety of Gotham..." She whispered

But protagonist... Using a love potion to up your love meter is considered cheating... If you get caught, or the love potion wears off, we'll both get in trouble! I suggest you get their affection the natural way!

"I hope you have a goodnight Father..." Viviana smiled then left the room

Protagonist! Bruce is still a vigilante! A scary one at that, if he finds out about this your love meter might plummet!

"it won't. Don't worry, I won't let it happen" she looked at her stats

Super strength- 6/20

Lazer eyes- 8/20

"System why aren't you doing anything to make this go up!?" She growled

You're the one who's supposed to make that go up on your own! By fighting villains! With every criminal you rehabilitate or put in jail, your stats go up, so far you've only managed to out the school shooters and some muggers

"powers aren't that important anyway... What matters is that girl, who does she think she is!? She was even trying to show her influence in the family by changing their minds and making me sleep in a Master bedroom!"

She was probably only trying to help you... She's been informed of your mission by her system

"Screw that! She's just scared that I'll take her place, so she's being kind to me to make herself stay! I'm going to take everything from her, those warm gazes, the gifts... They were mine in the first place!"

____________________________

Look who I met on an outing!

_____________________________

@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator

[crescenthistory]

࣪💌 = fluff I 📭 = angst I 📬 = hurt/comfort I 📜 = smut I 🪧 = humour

𖤐 regulus black

(3.8k) Totally Just the Fifth and Sixth Wheel (💌🪧: mutual pining, reg and reader in denial about their feelings are called out by friends)

⤷ (4.8k) Part 2, Still Totally Just the Fifth and Sixth Wheel, You Guys (💌🪧: the triple date to hogsmeade, more pining and denial ensues) ⤷ (6.8k) Part 3, Okay Fine Maybe We're In Love! (💌: the culmination of their feelings paired with an eventful quidditch match)

(2.6k) You occupy my every thought (💌📬: reader just gets regulus and he is flabbergasted, sunshine x grumpy dynamic)

(3k) Are you falling asleep on me? (💌: you would rather spend a late night studying in the library with regulus than be without him; he is enamoured with you for it)

(5.7k) Professional Meddlers (🪧: the girls play matchmakers with you and regulus, some hurt/comfort if you squint)

(6k) Come Running (📬: regulus is the last to find out his girlfriend is injured, feat. found family with your shared friends and madam pomfrey)

⤷ blurb about rosekiller's reaction

(5.5k) And what will come of us then? (📬📭: regulus finds reader sobbing with magical ink on her hands and is forced to confront himself)

(3k) on the tip of my tongue (💌: regulus says "i love you" for the first time and reflects on what love has been for him over the years)

(2.5k) Amour (💌📜: domestic afternoon in your own flat, you enjoy it when regulus calls you amour and he loves that you love it)

cat!animagus!reader (aka the adventures of whiskers, feat. bsf!marauders)

⤷ (3k) Feline Touches (💌🪧: regulus knows exactly where to find you when you're hiding from the cold) ⤷ (2.4k) Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat (💌🪧: wolfstar neglect to wake you when you and reg fall asleep in cat form) ⤷ (2.4k) Padfoot vs. Whiskers (💌🪧: you and reg get revenge on sirius in cat form) ⤷ (1.7k) Where Padfoot Lays His Head (📬: whiskers comforts padfoot) ⤷ (1.3k) the furred shoulder (📬🪧: reader remains in animagus form when she has a petty fight with reg, he tries to get her back) ⤷ (1.8k) not sneeze proof (💌📬: reader keeps turning into whiskers when she sneezes) ⤷ (1.5k) sharing is caring (💌🪧: bsf!barty finds whiskers asleep in the library and brings her back to regulus, but not without demands) ⤷ (1.5k) fix you up (💌📬: regulus turns into shadow to comfort you when you get injured as whiskers)

drabbles:

(1.5k) let me see you (📜: reg is working on letting go and opening up to you; you're encouraging him)

(1.3k) he seeks a celebration (💌: suggestive, when slytherin wins the quidditch match, regulus just want to celebrate with you)

(1.3k) nothing matters but you (💌: cuddling the night before your birthday)

(1.3k) all things new (🪧💌: regulus begs his friends to be cool around you when you meet for the first time)

(2k) you could never hurt me (💌📬: soulmate au, regulus realises his potions deskmate is his soulmate and spirals)

(844) jasmine bath salts (💌: regulus draws you a bath after work)

(1.1k) waiting out the storm (📬: regulus is hiding in a coffee shop after the war; you come to find him)

headcanons:

☆ bonding with regulus over bugs

☆ regulus x sunshine!reader

☆ black!sister!reader and barty crouch jr.

features in:

poly!moonwater

(1.9k) What Now? (💌: your concerned boyfriends find you feeling poorly in the infirmary and dote on you)

(0.7k) hospital au (💌📬: muggle au, you accompany remus to a&e where your boyfriend works)

find more regulus in poly!bartlus in the slytherin skittles masterlist

[ponyisle]

I think this was a screenie redraw but its been so long i forgor(This was back before i had different names for the ponies, so Wishbright is still called Luna here!)also YES that is snowdrop from the hit short film: snowdrop

introducing the Sleepy Circus! One of my favorite aspects of my AU. its a circus act created by Wishbright before her banishment. She initially designed it for Snowdrop in particular. It was mainly a sensory experience, soft twinkling stars, the gentle billowing of clouds. It's visuals were secondary to how it was intended to make the ponies feel while they drifted off. After seeing how much Snowdrop enjoyed it she started whisking away any ponies who were struggling with nightmares or sleep issues. The circus quickly became her pride and joy. Even neglecting some of her royal duties to put on performances.

Daybreak immediately recognized how many of her subjects were suffering from nightmares after Wish was banished. In an attempt to bring back the Circus she created new acts and performances. Changed the performer's dreary blue and purple uniforms for something brighter. Found a new pony to act of the ringleader in place of her sister.

The show went on after Wish left. But it was never quite the same. By the time she returned both her Circus and her beloved Snowdrop were gone.

Caption from instagram: "Introducing the sleepy circus! created by Luna before her banishment. It’s a circus act that helps ponies in their sleep, providing laughter and comfort as they drift off into their dreams. Before lunas banishment she was the ringleader, guiding the performances and creating new members. Celestia realized very quickly that Luna being gone and the circus having no leader led to her subjects having frequent nightmares, so she created Kitty to be the new ringleader. The circus survives but it’s not the same, and all the previous members feel it.. PimPim is particularly torn up after Luna is banished."