#sorry just me drawing same character shoulders up facing left

[moonreachingout]

some assorted volos 😊

[retrievablememories]

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

--

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

--

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

--

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

--

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

--

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

--

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh.  while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

[moomine]

backwash II | daisuke

author's note: totally awesome people should check out part one as well ⍢ also, if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) It's been a little over a month since the Tulpar departed on its 382-day long haul. Anya takes the reader aside to perform her monthly psych eval, where she discusses her experiences with her peers and life on the ship so far. After she's clear to go, she runs into Daisuke who's drawing in the lounge.

word count: 2,291

warnings: mild language? all characters are 18+

now playing: Radiohead - "Motion Picture Soundtrack"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 028—

I’m starting to feel more and more homesick. I miss my mom’s roast chicken. I miss swimming pools and the feeling of the breeze. I miss burning incense. I miss my friends. It hasn’t been that long since we left Earth, but I guess I just never considered how still outer space would be. How lonely I’d feel. The others have been nice, yeah. Especially Anya. And Daisuke. I get the feeling that Captain Curly is still warming up to me. I wonder if he’s ever taken on another apprentice before. I don’t know about Swansea, or Jimmy. They seem to tolerate me at best. But then again, those two kind of just tolerate everyone, except for maybe Captain Curly. It’s only been almost a month. I just have to keep my head. 

If mom were here she’d say: “Everything gets easier with time. Time and patience.”

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN—

“Everything okay, [Name]?” Anya asked in a gentle tone, gingerly placing a hand on the table in front of you.

Your shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice as it filled the otherwise silent lounge. You looked up at her, feeling the tension seemingly wash away by the sight of her face. She offered you an understanding smile, her tired features softened as she looked down at you.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Just lost in thought, I guess,” you responded. 

You raised a hand to rub your eyes. It had been difficult to find sleep lately. The groaning of the ship was almost haunting at night. Laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you spent the few hours allotted for sleep thinking about Earth, about what laid just beyond the door to your room, about the ceaseless whining of steel and steam. About the next three hundred and fifty four days.

Anya nodded sympathetically, moving her hand from the table top to your shoulder blade. “It gets easier. I promise,” she paused as Jimmy and Curly entered the room, their voices loud and booming. “Are you ready for your psych eval?”

You nearly didn’t hear her over the sound of the other two. They were reminiscing, shouting stories back and forth of college parties, bar fights, and past lovers.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said with a timid grin. 

Anya nodded once more, motioning toward the door just past the kitchen space. You came to your feet and followed her until the two of you made it to her domain. The medical bay had become a safe haven for you. Over the past month, you gravitated toward Anya the most. She had been kind to you from the very beginning, almost sisterly. When there was no more work to be done, you often found yourself walking straight through the lounge and into her office. Anya didn’t mind. In fact, she had grown to rather enjoy the company.

She walked around the desk before taking a seat in her chair. Behind her was a wall of white shelves and cabinets with glass doors. Inside they held assorted medical supplies and books on psychology and basic clinical practice. To the right of her was a bulletin board, cluttered with posters, a calendar, pictures of her hometown, and notes and reminders. A number of Daisuke’s doodles had made it up as well, namely ‘Yimpy’, a rather horrible caricature of Jimmy. It was pretty realistic.

You sat across from her with your hands interlocked in a tight ball. “Same as last time, right?”

Anya grinned as she organized your file. “Yep, same as last time. Since it’s only your second evaluation, I’m going to go over it one more time. Is that okay with you?”

You nodded.

“Lovely,” she said with a soft hum. Tapping the papers into a neat pile against the desk, Anya glanced at you once more. Her eyes flickered from the page to you, you to the page as she read aloud. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions about your experience, relationships, and general well being during your time under contract with Pony Express. It is your responsibility to answer as truthfully as you feel comfortable and/or deem necessary. Your answers remain confidential unless you give reason to believe you are at risk of harming yourself or others. Do you have any questions?”

“No questions here,” you replied with a shake of your head.

“Perfect. Let’s get started. On a scale of one to ten, how confident do you feel in your capability to complete your work and responsibilities on a day to day basis?” Anya read.

“Maybe eight? I’m still getting a hold of some of the more technical aspects. The Tulpar is an older ship… I wasn’t exactly trained on her special quirks in school,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“You’ll catch on fast. You already have,” she reassured, jotting down your response with that sweet smile still on her face. “Okay, next question. You mentioned last time that you’ve been having difficulty sleeping, is that still a relevant cause for concern?”

“I don’t know if it’s that concerning. I think I’m just having a hard time getting used to the new environment. It’s been getting easier to fall asleep though,” you responded. A little, white lie.

“I’m happy to hear that, [Name]. Your rest is important. I remember not being able to sleep at all during my first haul. I spent all night just tossing and turning, reading my books if I could focus on them long enough. It’s normal, but from the sound of it, you’re doing a great job adjusting.” Her gaze softened as she spoke. It was clear that she had grown to care for you quite quickly, and you did the same for her. “Only a couple more left to go…”

Anya listened intently while you answered each of her questions, taking the time to write down key details of your responses. Between questions, the sound of her pen etching against the paper filled the room. As Anya wrapped up the second to last question, your eyes wandered to the evening window screen. The warm orange and reds of the artificial sunset made the room look like it was on fire. You looked back to your hands, reaching up to take a piece of your hair and twist it between two fingers.

“All right,” Anya spoke up. “Last but not least, how do you feel about your relationships with the rest of the crew? Is there anything I should know about in particular?”

“No, I don’t think so. Everyone has treated me fine enough. Other than you, I’m still trying to get to know everyone better,” you said, still focused on your hair.

Another sympathetic smile graced Anya’s lips as she looked over at you. She knew how it felt to feel slightly out of place. “Look, I’m technically not supposed to tell you this, so you have to keep it a secret. Okay?” Anya let out a quiet laugh as you nodded quickly. She watched amused as you dropped your strand of hair and leaned in closer. “Daisuke mentioned during his eval that he wanted to get to know you more. Maybe you could try talking to him? You two have more in common than you might think.”

You looked down at your lap again, biting at the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I will.”

“Well, you’re all set. You’re free to go.” Anya closed the file and tucked it away alongside the others in her desk. “Thank you for your time, [Name]. I assume I’ll see you here tomorrow. Same time as usual?”

“Same time as usual,” you echoed, beaming as you got out of your chair and left the room.

From the hallway leading to the medical bay, you could tell that the lounge was quiet now. Curly and Jimmy must have wandered off elsewhere. It would have been completely silent if it weren’t for the subtle sound of pencil scratching coming from deeper within. As you entered the room you noticed Daisuke, hunched over the table as he sketched something in his sketchbook. Completely oblivious. You leaned against the doorway and watched from a distance for a moment, admiring as he tucked a tuft of fried brown hair behind his ear. 

“What are you drawing?” you questioned.

Daisuke jumped in his seat like a cat that had been snuck up on. His eyes shot to you, the surprise he felt immediately quelling into a tenuous excitement. He hastily closed his sketchbook —almost like he was hiding something— and smoothed out his hair. His mouth broke out into a wide, infectious smile, the gap in his two front teeth a thin ravine and the dimples on either side of his mouth tiny sinkholes.

“Me? Oh, y’know, just doodling,” he said, leaning back in his chair as if trying to act casual. “Where ya been? I couldn’t find- I mean, I didn’t see you back in the cockpit.”

“Psych eval.” You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb as you pushed yourself from the doorframe. “Can I see it?” you asked, walking up to the table and taking the seat across from him.

“Uhh… see what?” Daisuke asked in turn, voice coy and simultaneously flustered.

“Your doodles,” you responded with a laugh. “Only if you’re okay with that, obviously.”

“Oh! I mean, yeah. That’s like, totally fine. But, fair warning, they’re not that incredible or anything.” Reluctantly, Daisuke passed you his sketchbook. He looked rather bashful, cheeks slightly flushed and smile wavering.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve seen your stuff on Anya’s corkboard. You’re really good.” You took the sketchbook in your hands, looking down at the cover of it. It was absolutely littered in a random assortment of stickers. Only through the few and far between gaps could you see that it was once a pure black. It looked much cooler now decorated with the various games, bands, and whatever else Daisuke liked. “Are you sure you don’t mind me looking? Again, it’s perfectly fine if you changed your mind.”

“Nah, it’s all good. Just don’t expect too much, ��kay?” he replied, running a hand through his hair.

“No expectations,” you agreed.

You turned over the cover, revealing the first page. In red ink you read ‘if found please return to Daisuke, thank youuuuuu’, alongside it was a doodle of himself looking particularly grateful. Or maybe he was pleading. You chuckled under your breath and began flipping through the rest of the pages. Each one was filled with sketches and those increasingly familiar doodles of predominantly other people. Friends, maybe family, and characters from the different games he liked. His work wasn’t quite realistic, but not the most stylized either. Rather, it seemed to be a perfect mix of the two. Something entirely unique to him. To Daisuke.

The deeper you got into the book you started to spy familiar faces. Captain Curly, Swansea, Anya, even Jimmy, but mostly you. You glanced up at him, seeing that he was seemingly avoiding eye contact with you all together. His hand was still tangled within his hair, head turned to the side, and lips knitted into a fine line. That mole —high on his left cheek— stared at you more than his own eyes.

When you finally got to the last page you realized he hadn’t been doodling at all. Instead, there before you, in soft pencil sketching, was a portrait of you that Daisuke had drawn from memory. It wasn’t perfect, but it was incredibly detailed nevertheless. You held up the book, taking in the details with a look of awe on your face. He captured all of your little imperfections —the tilt of your eyes, the quirk in your smile, all of it. 

“Daisuke, these are actually so good!” you exclaimed, setting the book down and passing it back to him.

“You… you really think so?” He let out a breath of relief, finally looking at you again. “Man, I thought you would find them totally weird. I’ve been too scared to show anyone else but Anya.”

“Why would I think they’re weird?” you asked.

“Shit, I dunno…” Daisuke trailed off.

You shook your head. “You’re really talented.”

“I- Thank you,” he breathed. Daisuke’s face softened as you looked at him from across the table. The flush in his cheeks was barely noticeable, a fair pink dusting the peaks of his features. “Hey, I noticed you brought a Walkman on board with you. I never thought I’d actually see one of those things in the flesh.”

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed lightly. “It was a gift from my mom. It’s outdated as hell, but I’ve got a bunch of custom tapes back in my room. We should totally listen to them sometime.”

“Are you kidding? Dude, I’d love to-”

“Daisuke!” Swansea called from down the hall, cutting him off. He rounded the corner, sticking his head into the lounge with a sweaty brow. “There you are. Get your ass up, break time’s over. We’ve got work to finish up before dinner.”

Daisuke looked noticeably disappointed at the sight of Swansea. “But I-”

“No ‘buts’. C’mon now, I don’t have all day,” Swansea said with a huff before he turned around, walking back toward the utility room.

“Coming,” Daisuke sighed. He stood up, tucking his sketchbook under his arm with a slight frown. “Guess I’ll see ya later, [Name].”

“Yeah! I’ve got to show you some of my mixes, remember?” you responded sweetly, smiling up at him.

Daisuke nodded enthusiastically. As he left the room, he adopted a pep in his step. A smile was glued to his face as he beamed down the hall. The human embodiment of sunshine in that moment.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Let's go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Two days before Christmas. The store is left in tatters. Shelves strewn with sparse lefftovers and aisles hastily paced by those who left their shopping a bit too late. The frantic shoppers searching for a diamond among the sand grains of untouched product.

You work at arranging the remnants of the season’s beauty advent calendars on a table draped in a bright red cloth. There’s a large tag in a metal stand that marks them as ten percent off. On the other side of the holidays, they will drop to a full eighty percent off. You always believed giftcards were a better prize, not that you got many gifts.

That year, Luanne gave you a new journal and a specialty hot chocolate bomb in the department’s secret santa. You go Michelle and gifted her a copy of your favourite novel and some nail polishes. That is the extent of your shopping and gift exchanges. Except for your puppy, Ernie, who will get a bone and one of those special gourmet dog meals.

You finish your arrangement and step back, admiring your work. It’s close to close and so close to the end of the race that the shop isn’t as busy as usual. The only customers you do see are in a rush and horribly disappointed when that very specific thing isn’t in stock.

“Excuse me,” you’re drawn around the deep voice. A man strolls up the center aisle of the beauty section, the tails of his coat flicking behind him, “hi,” he uses your name as he approaches, “I’m so sorry to bother you again but can you point me to, erm,” he looks down at his phone, “a ring light?”

You hesitate. He seems to know you and you admit, he looks familiar. You’re at that point where the faces all blur together. Your one innate flaw is that you really don’t have a good memory for that, bt you definitely recognise his voice.

“Hello, sir,” you fall short of his name. You want to say Alan but you also don’t want to be wrong. “The ring lights are actually with the cellphone.” You gesture back at electronics, “I know it makes more sense to put them with cameras.”

“Ah, oh, thanks,” he nods but doesn’t move to find his quarry, he lowers his phone, “how’s your holiday going? Thing’s slowing down,” he looks around and you can’t help but do the same.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, most people are all done,” you shrug.

“Ha, wish I could say the same,” he sighs, “I thought we were done but the wife just sent me on a wild goose chase.”

“Hm, oh, well, I’m not very busy, did you need help finding anything else?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my manager’s done for the day so doesn’t really matter if I leave my zone,” you say, “kinda boring around here.”

“You’re too sweet,” he smiles, his blue eyes deep and swirling, “and that sweater is adorable.”

You look down at your dark blue sweater with the white crochet peter pan collar. You wiggle your shoulders and grin back at him, thanking him. You know he bought some perfume for his wife but you’re still blanking on his name.

“Here’s my list,” he tilts his phone towards you and looks down, shifting closer to you as he shows you a text bubble.

“Oh my, right. I’m not sure we’ll have everything,” you teethe your lip as you go through the items, “but we’ll see.”

A message pops up over the top and you try not to read, putting your head up as you try to act like you didn’t see it. It’s not that you meant to decipher the words but your brain quickly skimmed that ‘tomorrow night?’ Not much but just feels a bit personal.

“Alright, we’ll go to electronics first, then work our way forward,” you suggest.

“Good idea,” he agrees.

You set off and he follows at just a step. You have to remember to slow down as often you’re so determined you find yourself leaving your customers far behind you. You bring him to the mobile accessories and point to the ring lights.

He considers them and rubs his chin. He points between two; “what’s the difference?”

“Oh, this one comes with a tripod extension and this one is a full kit with a mic,” you point from one to the other.

“What do you think is better for, uh, streaming?” He sounds unsure of that last word.

“I think that kit would have more to it, especially if whoever it’s for is just starting out. But I’m don’t know too much about these things.”

“I’ll take the kit,” he scoops it off the shelf, “the kid can never have enough.”

“Oh? You have kids?”

“One,” he sounds less than excited, “teenager now so he really can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he forces away the shadow across his features, “you know how they can be. What about you? You going to see your parents? Spending the day with someone special?”

“Um, just Ernie,” you answer, “my puppy.”

“Cute,” he remarks, “are you guys open tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, yeah, ‘til five,” you try to remember the next thing on his list. 

He seems less concerned with the items than before, instead turn to examine a pop socket, “you have to work on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, closing, but I don’t mind.”

“What’s this?” He holds up a pop socket.

“It goes on your phone,” you pull out your phone and show him your daisy one, “see?” You hook your fingers around it, “it’s a grip to help you hold on.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he turns the thin package over, “kid’s always breaking his screen…”

You wait patiently as he makes up the mind to add the grip to his haul.

“What’s next?” You prompt as gently as you can.

“Oh, uh,” he looks at his phone, “video games…” he squints, “V-bucks?”

“Ah, yes, that would be a gift card,” you say, “I can show you the rack.”

He lets you lead him to the large rack of subscription cards. You point out the various currency amounts available and he rubs his brow. His forehead lines as you see the stress needling in his cheek. He’s struck with the late shopper syndrome. He’s start to feel the crush of time.

“So, just your dog?” He wonders as he picks up a $75 card.

“Yeah,” you answer softly.

“No boyfriend? Siblings?”

“Just me,” you assure him, “I don’t mind. I get to choose the dessert!”

He chuckles, “that’s a good way to look at it. Did you buy yourself something special?”

“Not really, I’ve been saving for a vacation so I put most of my overtime into that,” you explain. “You having a big dinner?”

“Last minute change, wife’s parents want to host. Had to figure out travel plans.” He looks at the giftcards again and your eyes fall to the large back curled up in his arm and the card and phone grip balanced between his fingers. He slides free a Netflix card and reads the fine print.

“Do you want a basket, sir?” You offer.

“Oh, well, sure,” he accepts as he looks down, “that’s very considerate.”

“Don’t want you to drop anything,” you smile and turn on your heel.

You go to the stack of rolling baskets beside the electronics desk. Tyler doesn’t acknowledge you as he sorts through game shells to put back on the shelf. You pull the basket behind you, rattling on its wheels as you approach the shopper by the gift cards.

“Here,” you veer it around towards him.

He bends to lower the ringlight inside and drops the smaller items into next to it; he adds the Netflix subscription along with it and holds onto the Kindle card in his hand.

“You got any of these around?” He holds up the card, “the reader?”

“Hmm, we should,” you rub your neck, “I suppose if we didn’t, you can get a tablet and download the app.”

“I guess,” he nods, “can you check?”

“Of course, sir.”

You turn away and call over your headset. Regan tells you there’s a kindle up in return they can sell. You ask them to put it aside.

“There’s one left at checkout. They’re going to have it waiting for you,” you announce proudly.

“That’s great. You like to read?” He asks.

“Oh, sure, my one vice is my book addiction,” you giggle, “how about you?”

“Well, I don’t get much of a chance with work. I’m usually burnt out from all the legal documents,” he drones grimly, “then the kid has extracurriculars or there’s a PTA meeting or the wife needs something done.”

“Sounds busy,” you say empathetically, “I hope you get some time to relax this holiday.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “I almost envy you. I’m sure your dog’s good company.”

“He’s so sweet,” you can’t help but beam at the mention of your boy.

“Big cuddler?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah,” the question is a bit unexpected, “you like dogs?”

“Never really had one. Don’t need the extra work,” he says, “but I don’t mind them.”

“That’s fair. He can be a bit needy.”

He flinches and looks down at his hand. His screen flashes and he gives an apologetic look as he raises his palm, “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.”

“Take your time, sir, I’ll wander,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb.

He mouths a thanks before he answers, “Barber.”

You back up and turn to distract yourself with the shelf of controllers and switch cases. His deep voice carries but you focus on the Sinatra carol playing overhead to drown him out. Still you can’t help but catch a few words.

“Five, yeah…no, she won’t…it’s fine…” He’s quiet for a moment before he raises his voice, “figure it out.”

His stern tone sends a chill through you. It’s a sharp contrast to his previously friendly demeanour. Well, he mentioned he’s a lawyer, you assume he has a lawyer voice, akin to your customer service one.

“Sorry,” he comes back to you, “my wife…” he takes a breath, “you don’t happen to sell wine here?”

You smile. The way he answered, it didn’t sound very affectionate but maybe he hadn’t expected his wife.

“No, sorry, sir.”

“Kidding,” he chuckles, “well, I guess I should get my butt in gear,” he flicks through his phone, “um, I assume toiletries? Face masks?”

“Oh, that’s near me,” you point back towards beauty, “there’s a special for the sheet masks.”

“Great,” he grabs the extended handle of the basket, “thanks so much for this. I’m so lost.”

“That’s fine,” you go ahead of him, “it’s the job.”

🎀

You groan as you put the last empty bin in the stack. You stand and rub your shoulders, traps sore from all the lifting and moving. The night crew will set up for the day after Christmas but in the last hour of work, you and the few others in the store scrambled to get the old displays torn down.

Luanne walks with you to the employee break room. She’s in more of a hurry as she has her three children waiting for her at their grandparents. She goes ahead of you and punches out as you wait and stretch out your arms.

“Have a good Christmas,” she says breathily as she opens her locker and pulls out her purse and jacket, folding the latter over her arm, “I’ll see you after. You’re opening, right?”

“Sure thing,” you say as you punch in your employee number. “Merry Christmas.”

“Give Ernie some pets for me,” she trills as she goes to the door. “Thanks again. You saved my ass today.”

“No problem, “ you shake your head, “Christmas Eve brings out the best.”

“Does it ever. Bye, sweetie,” she waves over her shoulder as he sweeps through the door.

You go to your locket and take out your fluffy pink sherpa coat and purse. You loop your scarf around your neck and slip your earmuffs around your head. You sit to pull on your boots and stand with an ache in your calves. You feel the fatigue finally setting in. It’s not over yet; one day off and you’re right back to the furor.

You yawn as you leave the breakroom and drag your feet across the store. You take out your phone as you pop your earbuds in and choose your holiday mix. You wave goodbye to a few other stragglers and go out the front door, Spencer locking it behind you.

It’s bitterly cold out. You’re surprised by the fresh fall of snow swirling in the air. It gives an extra sparkle to the time of year.

You scroll through your phone. The buses are on holiday hours already. The next one is in an hour. Great. You can just walk, at least until you get to the next stop. More buses stop there and you can get at least ten minutes within your building.

You trod along, kicking through the powder of snow as headlights gleam ahead of you. You walk along the narrow walk beside the hotel on the other side of the intersection and a pair of flashing tail lights blink ahead of you. A dark figure stands beside the white SUV but you can’t make out much more than their silhouette.

You keep going, peeking up curiously as you near. The boot of the car pops up and the stranded driver searches. As you pass, you trip over an unseen shape, the metal clank painfully against your toe. You look down at the small foot jack.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” the man stands straight and turns to you, “I didn’t see you coming. I was just grabbing the iron–”

“That’s okay,” you pick out your earbuds, “I wasn’t looking.”

“Wait,” he stops short and points a gloved finger in your direction, “it’s you. You work at the store just down the way, right?”

You know the man. He’s the one who was in the store just yesterday. There’s a flutter in your chest at the coincidence of your encounter. It happens, especially in the shopping district. Half the city at least passes through her during the holidays.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me. You finish your shopping?”

“Just about,” he tuts and shakes his head, “blew a tire. So, happy holidays to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you look down at the snowy walk.

“Mhmm,” he grumbles, “all this snow, I can’t get the jack to work either.”

“Dang, unfortunately, I’m not help. I don’t know much about cars.”

“That’s fine, I called roadside assistance but they’re taking their damn time,” he checks his watch.

“Oh…” you utter.

“Don’t let me rain on your holiday, honey,” he says, “your toe okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you look down.

“Wait, are you walking home?” He asks.

You nod.

“Wish I could offer you a ride. This weather’s only getting worse,” he bemoans. He slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out his phone, “they should be here shortly so if–”

A set of headlights pull onto the apron and roll towards you. You look over as the man beside you does the same. You stand, somewhat dumbfounded at the unexpected run-in. 

“That’s them,” he declares, “hey, guys.”

He waves as the white van pulls up. You were expecting a tow truck. Oh, well. Not your problem.

“Great, I guess I should get going,” you excuse yourself, “have a happy holi–”

As you step back, your heel catches on something. You don’t realise until your plummeting onto your ass that the man stuck his leg out behind you. You hit the ground with an oomph, barely missing the metal jack half-buried in the snow.

You hear the van door sliding open and a clatter of heavy treads. You can barely catch your breath as the world moves fast around you. The man bends over you as another rushes over, grabbing you off the ground as the two vehicles block out the street from view.

“Be nice,” the first man warns as your arms are seized. “Don’t hurt her.”

You suck in a deep breath. What is happening? You go to let out the shriek as you’re struck by the situation. This can’t be real but you’re being half-carried towards an open vehicle. A hand comes up and stifles your scream, smothering you as you’re yanked harshly forward.

“Careful,” the man girds again.

“Shut the fuck up,” the other grits and pulls you away from the other, spinning you around as he hooks an arm around your neck and covers your mouth, forcing you towards the van. He bends backwards, lifting your feet as you kick and squirm.

“Honey, calm down,” the friendly customer coaxes, “it’s okay.”

You don’t understand. Why are they doing this? Why you?

The man’s hand slips as you grab at his arms and your teeth come over the vee between thumb and index. You bite down and he yowls. Even through his leather glove, you give him a viscous pinch.

“Fuck!” He tosses you forward so your knees hit the side of the van and fall half-inside.

“Hurry the fuck up,” another voice calls from inside the van.

“Trying,” the second man snarls as you stand and let out a shrill note, only for a second before you’re caught from behind and muted again. This time the leather glove seals over your nose. “Fucking bitch.” 

You’re lifted into the van, writhing and kicking as the door slides shut from the outside. You’re pinned on the floor in the seatless rear of the vehicle. You whimper as your eyes glisten with a sudden spring of tears. 

That question rings in your head again; why you? You have no one to look for you, no one to care. It’s only you against them.

[cynosfunnyjokes]

Unveiling Secrets

Characters: Lyney, Reader (Furina and Lynette briefly mentioned)

Relationship: Lyney x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Lyney’s case revealed some shocking information that he never mentioned during your years of being together. SPOILERS FOR FONTAINE’S ARCHON QUESTS.

Notes: Very self indulgent because Lyney’s trial had me fucking SHOOK. My state is currently getting throttled with a massive storm and since I’m stuck inside, I’ve been bored as hell so why not write some of the stuff I’ve had ideas about?? Very short because I’m exhausted but yeahhhhh. Requests are open! :)

Word Count: 1230

Lyney, the renowned magician of Fontaine that everyone knew and adored. The same Lyney that came home every night, always exhausted but a smile graced his face regardless.

The soft moments shared in the evenings and through the night into the early hours of the day- the memories once were enough to bring butterflies to your stomach.

But now?

A crushing weight fell to your shoulders as you stood in the Opera Epiclese, observing the trial that took place. Of course, you knew Lyney was innocent- there was no way he would've killed someone.

“Tell me.” Furina’s voice cut through your thoughts, “Aren't you and Lynette actually from the House of the Hearth?”

You froze, eyes wide and breath catching in your throat. The House of the Hearth? The Fatui?

Lyney, the sweet magician who always pulled flowers from nowhere as a gift. Your sweet boyfriend who you thought could do no wrong…

Was of the Fatui?

Everyone in the opera house seemed shocked- most questioning Lyney’s innocence. But you sat frozen in your spot, eyes wide and staring blankly ahead.

During the years of being with Lyney, he had never once brought up such a detail. Why would he keep such important information away? Was it all a lie? Some sick, twisted game to him?

The rest of the trial was a blur in your zoned-out state. Everything seemed to blur together and you barely knew what was happening until you were walking on shaky legs from the auditorium.

Hasty footsteps from behind with a soft call of your name fell on deaf ears. It was only when a hand gently touched your shoulder that you finally snapped out of it, eyes flickering up to meet with familiar violet orbs.

Lyney.

“Hey,” he said in a low voice, worry lacing into it, “are you okay?”

How could you be? You just found out that your boyfriend was a part of the Fatui. That wasn't the problem, however. The problem was that such information was revealed by the Hydro Archon herself. In the middle of a court case.

Mouth opening to reply, words seemed to get caught on your tongue, mind drawing a blank.

“Why didn't you tell me..?” You asked finally, voice small and eyebrows furrowed.

The blond swallowed thickly, “I-” he seemed to struggle with words for a moment, “I swear, I didn't mean any harm by not telling you- I just-”

“Chose to keep such an important detail away from the person you're supposed to trust the most?” You asked, cutting him off. Internally, you winced at the sharp tone.

Lyney’s eyes grew wide, “It's not that I didn't trust you! I just- I didn't know how to tell you!” his voice was borderline pleading, “Please, I’m sorry I didn't tell you.”

“I..” You frowned, “What else did you lie about..? Was this... Was this relationship a lie too?” The question left your lips before you could even stop it, tumbling off your tongue like a wave of water.

“Of course it wasn't!” Came Lyney’s surprised reply, his hands moving to grasp yours delicately, “This relationship was never a lie- and still isn't.”

Even with Lyney’s sincere voice, doubt ate at the back of your mind. What if this was another lie? He lied for years about such a small detail- what else did he lie about?

“You..” Avoiding eye contact, your body stiffened when his gloved hands met yours. Holding hands with him once brought so much warmth and comfort- but now it left a heavy feeling settling at the bottom of your stomach.

Lyney shook his head as if knowing what you were going to say, “I didn't lie, Mon Cheri. I just didn't… Tell you this one detail. I’m still the same Lyney as before.”

“But are you..?” The waver in your voice caused you to curse inwardly, brave facade fading away. “How do I know that… that you're the same Lyney..?”

“Darling..” He whispered, eyes softening, “You are the only one who gets to see the real me. The real Lyney. It's reserved for you and you alone.”

Opening your mouth to reply, he cut you off by cupping your cheeks with his gloved hands, warmth seeping from the material.

Unable to resist the urge, you nuzzled into his touch, unconsciously pressing a soft kiss to his palm.

“I promise, I am the same Lyney that you have always seen. I love you and nothing has changed- none of this was a lie.” He sighed, a small smile gracing his lips as his violet orbs watched you place the kiss to his palm.

“I'm sorry I never told you, Mon Amore. I'll make it up to you, I promise.” Lyney’s eyes searched yours desperately.

Eyes drooping with a sigh, you looked up at him, “You better make it up to me.” You murmured, arms reluctantly moving to curl around his waist, “You owe me big time..”

He smiled, arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace, “That I do, that I do- I’ll do anything you ask until you forgive me! … Within reason, of course.” He gave a sheepish smile.

“No more secrets.” You murmured, giving him a stern look, “We need to trust each other… I don’t want to have to find out other things about you from the Hyrdo Archon herself- or anyone but you.” A sigh, “Promise?”

“Promise.” Came Lyney’s reply not even a moment later. His voice was serious, eyes determined. Right-hand raising, he stuck out his pinkie, a small smile forming on his lips.

“What are we, five?” You asked with a joking scoff, but you raised your hand to link pinkies with him regardless.

He smiled, pinkie squeezing yours, “If we are, you just agreed with it.” Gesturing to your linked pinkies, he laughed softly. His free hand moved to behind your ear, pulling out a flower as if out of nowhere.

“A beautiful flower for a beautiful person.” He winked, smiling. The flower was a Rainbow Rose, the scent mixing perfectly with Lyney’s and easily filling your senses. He gingerly tucked it into your hair, drawing a link hue to your cheeks.

“Now,” He hummed, “Shall we go out? I have a lot I must make up for-”

The blond was cut off by your arms wrapping around his waist again, head tucking below his chin and pressing against his chest. The soft thrum of his heartbeat was calming to listen to.

He paused, eyes widening before he smiled. One arm wrapped around you, the other raised with a hand gently carding through your hair, “Hey, hey. What's wrong, Mon Amore?”

“Just..” You whispered against his chest, “Let's stay like this for a bit... Please…?” Hands bunching up the fabric on his back lightly, your arms tightened slightly.

“Of course,” Lyney murmured with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, “We can stay like this as long as you need. I’m here.”

And so there you stood, just outside of the Opera Epiclese and comfortably embraced in each other's arms.

Maybe Lyney did withhold details from you, but he was still your Lyney- a conclusion you had come to. While your trust was shattered, he was picking up the pieces and putting it back together.

It would take time, but with Lyney by your side, you knew everything would be okay.

[chronicowboy]

Song 88 for the playlist character thing!

hi! sorry this took so long but you chose possibly my favourite buddie song of all time and i just had to write a little ficlet

the door swings open (and you're standing there)

As he grabs Eddie's duffel bag from the backseat, Buck thinks of Hachikō the dog that waited for his owner to arrive at the station after work every day. How he waited long after his owner had died. Until he too eventually died at that very same station. It's far too easy to imagine himself sat just outside those airport doors, watching, waiting, withering.

Buck wouldn't get treats and food from affectionate passersby. Buck would get pitying looks from any commuter that spared him a glance.

Still, when Eddie's hand brushes his as he takes his bag, Buck thinks his tail would be wagging, if he had one. Wants to paw at Eddie for more. Wants to press his face into Eddie's neck. Wants to be a bad dog and sink his teeth in there too. Leave a mark. Remember me. Take this with you. Hate me if you have to, just take me with you.

"Got everything?" he asks instead, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Hopefully," Eddie sighs and slips the strap over his shoulder. His eyes are skittish like a doe in a field deciding which way to run. He's fiddling with the zipper on his bag, and it takes Buck back to a too-bright kitchen, Eddie's thumbs rubbing into his palms.

This is panic. This is Eddie Diaz panicking.

"Tell Chris I say hi," Buck says. An out. Always, always an out. And then, he'd left, and Buck had had to hide behind Tommy instead. But eventually he'd left too, and Buck. Well, Buck had ruined everything. This, however, works exactly as he'd planned. Soothes Eddie's hackles right down and draws out that shaky little smile of his. "Tell him—" The words choke themselves off in Buck's throat. "Tell him I love him." And his voice comes out wrong. Wobbly and weak when this should be the easiest thing in the world to say. "Tell him I miss him, and I love him more than he'll ever know. Tell him like that."

Eddie's face cracks open again, smile shattering, the resigned eyes of a doe caught in a trap.

"Buck," he croaks. Swallows, stands to attention, sets a hand on Buck's shoulder. His thumb burns a hole into Buck's collarbone. "You're talking like you're never gonna see us again." Buck shrugs, regrets it almost immediately, waits for Eddie's hand to slip from his shoulder. It doesn't. Anchored there, sure and unyielding. "I'm gonna be back in a few weeks."

"To get your stuff, Eddie," Buck scoffs.

"Yeah." Amusement blooms across Eddie's face, unfurls in his eyes like the first bud of spring. He tilts his head to catch Buck's gaze, smiles wider. "And I'll be packing you into one of the boxes, so you can help me put all my furniture back together again."

Buck thinks it'd be infinitely easier, if he was a dog, to slip into Eddie's moving van unnoticed. Launch himself into Eddie's arms when the doors opened after eight hundred miles. Lick his face and beg for forgiveness rather than permission.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Eddie says, and it's full of that Diaz conviction that makes Buck feel like he's been overtaken by a wave. He wants to drown in it.

"I know." Buck shrugs again. Shrugs a little more than last time. Eddie's hand falls from his shoulder, and Buck hopes that was the only thing keeping him afloat.

"No, seriously." Eddie huffs at Buck, at himself maybe. He runs a hand through his hair, and those two perfectly messy strands fall right back over his forehead. Buck has thought on more that one occasion about reaching up to brush them away, but this is something that doesn't need fixing. "I'm going to be alone over there, Buck. Especially if Chris isn't ready for me to be there. And you..." Eddie doesn't choke on his words. He laughs. A sweet, tinkering sound. It reminds Buck of the windchimes in Eddie's backyard. "You have always been right there by my side. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do when you're not there anymore."

"You'll figure it out." Buck shrugs again. He glances up from the pavement just in time to catch the defeated collapse of Eddie's shoulders, his face.

"Buck..." He takes a deep breath. "I don't know if I want to figure it out."

And there are a thousand things Buck could say. A thousand unspoken words Buck has hoarded since he flipped over that stupid fucking tablet. A thousand truths he could spill in parking structure 3 at LAX during his seven-dollar half hour.

There are things he could say that Hachikō never got to.

Instead, Buck lets them all clump and clot around his heart like some cancerous mass to be removed when it's already too late.

"You should get going," he says. "Don't want to miss your flight."

Eddie looks at him for a beat too long. Eyes unnerving. Buck feels like peeling paint on a wall watching a can of paint stripper get set down on the sheet-blanketed floor. Feels like a nerve exposed to the brisk chill of winter air, every sensation just too much. So, when Eddie wraps his arms around Buck's middle, he feels it like a thicket of thorns latching onto him. It's instinct that has him catching Eddie. And it's a sword that lances straight through his chest when Eddie's grip tightens around him, hands fisting in the fabric of Buck's shirt, nose replacing his thumb on Buck's neck. Every point of contact like a weeping wound. Buck will carry each of them until he's empty.

When Eddie pulls away, it's Christopher he thinks of that allows Buck to let him slip away.

"Fly safe," he rasps.

"I'll make sure to tell the pilot there's precious cargo onboard," Eddie teases with an eyeroll. It's so close. So almost normal.

"You do that." And it's not even close. Nowhere near normal. He can't even give Eddie this. Ruins their goodbye once more.

"See you soon, Buck."

He could spare himself the pain. Could walk away right now. He was always good at that. The walking away, not the sparing himself pain. But, well, Buck couldn't not watch Eddie leave anymore than Orpheus couldn't not turn around to share in the delight of sunlight with his Eurydice. And when Eddie turns to look at him one last time, offers him a half-smile and a half-wave, before getting swallowed up by the crowd, Buck thinks it's his fault for loving him so much.

Except that's not true, is it? Orpheus travelled all the way underworld, charmed the ferryman and Cerberus and Hades himself with his music. The perfect melody of love and grief. Buck drove Eddie to the airport and just... Let him walk away.

Eddie would make a better Orpheus, he thinks. Eddie who found joy and flung the door open wide to Buck, so ready to share it with him. Eddie would make the perfect Orpheus. If only he loved Buck the way Orpheus loved Eurydice, the way Buck loves Eddie.

That's the simple truth of it. Buck loves Eddie. He'd do anything for him. And if that means crossing the Styx, losing him for good, Buck thinks it'll be worth it as long as Eddie goes knowing he's loved so completely that it becomes natural.

Buck goes through the glass doors. He slips through the crowd. Elbows his way towards the security checkpoint.

When he sees Eddie, he thinks he'd turn around for his Eurydice not to share in the light but because she is the light. Buck would gladly go blind.

Buck manages to catch him before he reaches the line for security, and Eddie turns to him with a delightfully bemused frown.

"Buck, what—"

"I'm sorry." Buck shakes his head, squeezes Eddie's wrist. "I'm sorry. I've never been good at goodbyes, but I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to say goodbye to you, Eddie."

"It's not goodbye, Buck." Eddie frowns, grabs Buck's wrist right back. "I said see you soon, and I meant it."

"I know. I know you meant it." Buck smiles. Some crumpled copy of a smile at least. "I just hope you still mean it after this." Eddie's face twists into something both confused and offended like the thought of not seeing Buck again is just so utterly unthinkable.

"What—"

"I'm in love with you, Eddie." Buck doesn't wait for a reaction. Can't. "I only just figured it out, can you believe it? Six years of you at my side, and I only realise when you're slipping right through my fingers." Buck laughs, a noise like nails on a chalkboard. "I'm not expecting anything of you. I just... I just needed to tell you before you left or otherwise I'd regret it for the rest of my life."

"Buck, I—"

"You don't have to say anything, Eddie." Buck shakes his head, still smiling. "Just promise me something?"

"Anything, but, Buck—"

"Just promise me, Eddie." He tightens his grip on Eddie's wrist, nails digging in just a little. Well, a bad dog after all. "Be honest with Chris. Tell him the whole truth. Don't go hiding things you think he can't handle it. Chance is he knows it already, he just doesn't have a name for it. And that makes it so much worse, Eddie. You grow up feeling it, but you're never allowed to look at it. And it grows and grows and grows. So, just. Tell him everything. No matter how heavy. Tell him, and the two of you will carry it together instead of alone. Promise me that, Eddie. Don't colour it with your guilt. The plain honest truth, okay?"

"Okay." Eddie nods blankly. Buck squeezes Eddie's wrist and drops it. Eddie grasps it against his chest like he's been burnt.

Buck walks away. He looks back just once.

~~~~

Eddie has been in Texas for almost a whole month. And since a perfunctory Arrived safe after his flight, they haven't talked once. So, Buck throws himself into work. Embraces the flames of a five-alarm fire like an old friend. Jumps off of thing just to feel the blessed weight of free-fall before the rope snaps taut. Covers every shift he can find until Bobby forces him to take ninety-six whole hours off.

He runs around downtown LA until his bad leg starts to scream in pain. He goes to the gym with music blasting in his headphones, so he can't hear the ugly thoughts curdling in his brain, lift weights until the shoulder he'd dislocated starts to scream too. Watches reality TV until his brain feels like it's melting right out of his ears. Eases his way into fitful sleep with shots of tequila chased by the old beers in the back of Eddie's fridge.

His first shift back is stifling. The eyes on him making him feel like a rabid dog backed into a corner. Everyone terrified of what he'll do next. So, he whispers quiet to himself in the bathroom and sighs in relief when the alarm blares.

They don't get back to the station until 3am, and Chimney is too tired to go on a manhunt for whoever jinxed them, so Buck stows himself away in the loft whilst everyone else shuffles into the bunks. He checks his phone out of habit, grinning at the picture of Maddie's sonogram she'd sent after her appointment, wonders if Chim is trying to sniffle quietly in the bunks—almost definitely.

And then, he sees the voicemail.

He doesn't really think much of it. Tries to tell himself it's probably just his doctor calling about that check-up he should be scheduling or the landlord asking if he's decided on renewing his lease or not yet, ignoring the timestamp in the corner of the little white box, ignoring the stutter of his heart and the tremble running through his body.

01:47

Buck clicks on the notification before his phone can shake right out of his hands. He brings it up to his ear, listens, waits. He takes a deep, rattling breath in perfect synchronicity with the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Hey, Buck, I'm sorry I haven't..." A pause. "God, you must have thought..." A huff. One of those laughs that's trying too hard to be a laugh and ends up being something else instead. "I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking. Jesus Christ. I'm fucking stupid, Evan Buckley. Did you know that? I, God, I don't know how I didn't see it. I've been looking at you almost every day of my life for six years and somehow I never fucking saw it. You were just...

"You're like breathing, Buck. You-you're a necessity. An instinct. You don't notice it's there until it's gone. And then you spend three and a half weeks panicking in a shitty AirBnB in El Paso because you can't fucking breathe without him. And I—" Eddie isn't breathing. Eddie has always been breath-taking to Buck, stealing the air right out of his lungs. Not for selfish gains but to take care of it when he didn't trust Buck to do it himself. "I love you. I'm in love with you, Buck. Oh, my God. I'm in love with you. I didn't know, Buck. I didn't know. You have to believe me. I didn't know. And now... It's not too late, Buck. Is it too late? Am I too late?"

"No," Buck whispers into the empty air of the station. Can't help himself. Feels the no like a parasite in him. Like a xenomorph bursting right out of his chest. Too big, too big, too big.

"I love you, and I'm two states away, and I didn't know I could love you like this, and I didn't know love could feel like this, Buck. I just want to be where you are. Always. I want to hold your hand. I want to hold you. God, I want to kiss you. Buck. I want to kiss you so badly. But I have to... Chris is here, and he's talking to me, and I'm picking him up from school now. I can't... I can't kiss you. Not yet. I need to fix our family first."

Buck clasps a hand over his mouth and sobs against his palm. He doesn't know what it is he's feeling. Couldn't name it all if he tried. The most comparable sensation he has is how it felt when he woke up after his leg. When the drugs were just strong enough that he was numb in that delicious kind of way. Warm instead of cold. Floaty. Everything dulled, but that little voice in the back of his head telling him something was wrong.

"I'm firing my realtor tomorrow, I don't care. I need to take my house off the market. My parents are driving me crazy. Christopher misses you. I miss you. I love you. I love you." Eddie laughs. And this is a laugh. A real laugh. One of his bubbles of joy that Buck wants to be encased in forever and ever. "I just. God, it's always there, Buck. It's always been right there. Writing grocery lists and running into burning buildings and driving through traffic and I was loving you the whole time. How the hell have you been carrying this around? I feel like it's going to crush me if I don't... But I left. I left. I'm so sorry I left. It's late. You're at work. I shouldn't. I love you, Buck. Okay? So much. Call me back?"

The line doesn't go dead. Eddie sits there breathing down the phone for twelve more seconds, and Buck inhales after each of his exhales like he'll be able to taste Eddie's oxygen from eight hundred miles away because he's greedy. But. But Eddie loves him. Eddie wants to kiss him. Eddie is eight hundred miles away.

Buck pockets his phone and heads for Bobby's office with something frantic buzzing away beneath his skin. He raps on the door gently, clenches his hands into fists and stuff them into his pockets as they shake, shake, shake.

"Come in," Bobby calls, quiet with the late hour. Buck pushes into the room. Too concerned with the way his spine seems to be trying to crawl out of his mouth to think about his face, but whatever expression is there has Bobby setting his pen down with three quick blinks. "Buck. Everything okay?"

"I need to go to Texas," he blurts out. Bobby blinks three more times. Okay, not quite what he'd meant to say. "I know you just gave me four days off, but I-I need to go, Bobby."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Buck smiles, and he's not sure what it looks like, but it makes Bobby melt back into his seat with a smile of his own. "Everything's good, Bobby. I just need to see them."

"Take a week," Bobby says just like that.

"W-wait, really?"

"Why not? Pretty sure you've got more vacation days saved up than everyone else combined." Bobby nods, a final approval. "Hit the bunks, get some sleep, head home when you wake up, forget about any calls."

"Are you, I mean, are you sure?" he asks, doesn't realise he's almost bouncing in place until the corner of Bobby's mouth quirks up just a little more.

"Yeah, Buck, I'm sure." He jerks his head. "Go get 'em."

Buck doesn't need to be told twice.

~~~~

A day later, one miracle down and almost five hundred dollars poorer, Buck is lugging a half-zipped duffel bag out of an extortionately priced Uber. He drops the bag on the doorstep of some stranger's bungalow, raises his fist and hesitates. It's just—

Can it really be this easy? Can Buck just show up out of the blue and expect to be welcomed with those kisses Eddie had been wanting so badly? Can he have this? Can he really have Eddie?

And then, like an answer, the door swings open.

Eddie is standing there bathed in the golden light of the entryway lamp. He's frozen to the spot, paused with one arm in his jacket, the other hanging limp at his side. His jaw slack, but tugged up just a little, so slight only Buck and his PhD in Eddie Diaz would catch it. And his eyes. God, his eyes. Buck almost falls to his knees for missing those brown eyes alone. Now, they're the warmest Buck has ever seen them, wide and full of wonder. Buck did that. Buck filled Eddie's eyes with awe and fondness and so much love he thinks he could drown in it even if he was still in LA and looking at them through a screen.

"Buck," Eddie breathes, smile dawning over his face like the most beautiful sunrise Buck has ever seen.

He doesn't even get to open his mouth before Eddie's arms are around him, and Buck doesn't know why he was mourning Eddie's house when this is so clearly home—the pounding of Eddie's heart against his own. Buck slides his arms around Eddie's waist, slips them under the jacket hanging from his left shoulder, buries his face in Eddie's neck and breathes in as much home as he can fit in his lungs. Eddie does the same, just clings to Buck, inhales, digs his fingers into Buck's back deep enough that he hopes they bruise.

"You're here," Eddie whispers into Buck's skin.

"I got your message," Buck rasps.

Eddie pulls away like it's the last thing he wants to do, barely even pulls away, just enough to look. And, oh, does he look. Takes Buck in from head to toes, lingers on his lips just a moment longer than the rest. Looks at Buck like he's seeing fire for the first time, amazed, enchanted, just the tiniest bit afraid. He's beaming. It's not a smile, not a grin. It's a beam. Buck wants to bottle it.

"Going somewhere?" Buck asks, plucking at the half-on, half-off—half-on, what the hell, Buck's feeling optimistic—jacket. Eddie glances down at it blankly, shrugs right out of it and lets it fall to the floor without taking his eyes off Buck.

He's not sure who cracks first, but their twins grin burst. Eddie almost doubles over with the force of his laughter, catching himself on Buck's shaking shoulders. And Buck doesn't know how long they stand on the doorstep just laughing, but he thinks he could stay there forever. Could get drunk off the sound of Eddie's joy. Because that's what it is really. The jacket falling hadn't been this funny. Nothing was this funny. Because this was just what happened when happiness grew too big to be contained.

Eventually, their laughter fades into huffed little breaths that makes Buck feel like that exposed nerve again when they hit the skin of his neck.

"Hey, Buck," he says, joy glowing in the pink of his cheeks. "I love you."

"Hey, Eddie." Buck smiles, but that isn't really a big enough word for what he's feeling. "I love you."

Eddie kisses him like he's been thinking of nothing else for a month. Eddie kisses him like he's run all the way from El Paso to LA just to kiss him. Eddie kisses him like it's the end of the movie and the music is swelling and the fireworks are exploding. Eddie kisses him like he's kissed him a thousand times before.

Gentle. Chaste, really. Desperately careful. Devastatingly tender. Fond and enamoured and loving. It tastes of joy.

Eddie pulls back only to lean in again. Drops one, two, three, four more kisses to Buck's mouth before dragging his thumb over his bottom lip. His eyes flicker to Buck's, a question, and Buck answers. Leans in and keeps on leaning. Asks Eddie, asks the universe, pleads, demands: fuse us together, let me crawl inside, I'll stay, I'll stay right here. And Eddie doesn't just permit him. Eddie opens up to him, answers with a question of his own: can I be yours, can this be us, can I call you mine?

When Buck pulls away, he finds the eighth wonder of the world. Eddie, kiss-dishevelled, swollen lips, cheeks red, hair mussed, eyes glossed over.

"You're here," Eddie croaks, voice hoarse from just a kiss. Buck's knees go weak. "How long are you here for?"

"Bobby gave me the week," Buck says, breathless from the best kiss of his life.

"Well, that'll have to do, I guess," Eddie teases.

He kisses Buck three more times before dropping to a crouch. All the blood in Buck's head floods South so fast he's dizzy with it. But Eddie stands back up with his jacket, tosses Buck's duffel bag into the entryway and pushes him off the doorstep.

"Come on. We're gonna be late."

"Late for what?" Buck asks, still half-stuck on the image of Eddie basically dropping to his knees in front of him.

"Dinner with my parents," Eddie says as he locks the door.

"Uh..." Buck blinks. "Do you want... Sh-should I wait here?"

"If you think I'm letting you out of my sight, you're crazy." Eddie cups the side of his face and pecks him once on the lip before heading to the truck. It's so domestic, so perfectly easy. Buck thinks he must be losing his mind because there's no way to kiss someone like that two minutes after your very first kiss. "Besides." Eddie throws him a grin as he slips into the driver's seat. "If Chris found out I'd kept you from him for even a second, he'd really never forgive me."

[regalbootie]

Trying Something New In the Bedroom Chapter 3

Chapter 3 NSFW 18+ NO MINORS PLEASE

Larissa Weems x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, overstimulation, spanking again cos I'm a whore, shapeshifter peen, Dom Mommy.

Notes: This was requested by the lovely @marilynthornhilllover and I had also received great help with this fanfic from many people i gotta say you guys are awesome. there will be a chapter 4! it just may not be rather smutty hehehe.

Requests are still open and I'm also taking suggestions for other characters to write about so if you craving something ill give it a shot! let me know what you all think of this anyways!

You pout as the cabin slowly goes out of sight, wishing you could stay there forever with your wife. It was bliss a week of rough fucking along with some tenderness of curling up in front of the fireplace together breathing in the calmness that the homey little cabin provided.

“Oh Darling, I promise we’ll come back soon” Larissa ran a hand over your leg, her fingers drawing soothing shapes that had no meaning. Resting your head against the window and burning the memory of the scenery into your brain when you notice the car rolling to a standstill.

“what’s wrong darling?” looking over at your wife you notice a fork in the road.

“I’m just trying to remember which way to go my love” Squinting hard like she was envisioning a big sign saying this way. “I think it's right” starting to turn the car to go right you place a hand on her thigh.

“I’m pretty sure its left darling”

“No I am sure it is right” Larissa starts the car again “and I am pretty sure it is left” you scowl and let out a huff. Larissa turns to stare at you with that look that says ‘don’t be a brat right now.'

“Ok go right just don’t complain to me when you realize you went the wrong way” now it's Larissa’s turn to scowl and she takes the right turn. Smirking when she reaches the main road and lifting a brow to say ‘I told you so’.

You stick your tongue out at her and she rolls her eyes at you. The rest of the drive was smooth sailing and it was dark once the car rolled up outside the school, a storm had arrived at the same time and thunder was booming in the distance.

Jumping at the strike of lightning the two of you grab your bags as fast as possible making your way through the dim and empty school to your shared quarters. None of the teachers were arriving till tomorrow so it would just be the two of you as the grounds keeper and cleaners would be home hours ago.

Unpacking you notice Larissa is nowhere to be seen, huffing you unpack the last of everything and go hunting for your wife. Noticing a glow of light coming from under the door to her office you knock lightly as the door swing slowly open to the most beautiful sight before you.

Slowly you come up behind her as she gazes into the fireplace the fire roaring before you. Wrapping your arms around her waist resting your tired head on her back, feeling the tension release from her you lay kisses along her shoulders.

Turning in your arms you couldn’t help but smile up at her beautiful face, she was like an angel sent from heaven the fire casting a halo-like effect over her, but little did you know she was going to be the devil.

“You were being very bratty earlier darling” she pulled away from your arms and moved to sit in the armchair beside the glowing embers. “I think you should be punished for how you acted towards your mistress”

Blinking slowly, you realized what feeling she was making run through your body. The wave of excitement traveled down your spine, leaving chills all over your back. Licking your lips, faking a look of innocence for your mistress.

Patting her thigh, you slowly moved to lay across her legs, “I’m sorry Mistress.” Your core was already starting to throb with need as you lay over her like a good little pet for her.

“Oh, I don’t think sorry is going to cut it right now baby” running her hands up over your legs digging her nails in leaving red marks in her wake making you shiver and arch into her more. Reaching your core, she continues dragging her nails and suddenly rips your panties off, making you jump in her lap and even more juices gather and begging for her to taste.

A low seductive chuckle rises from Larissa it almost sounded like a growl and, you knew you were in for a real punishment tonight. Lifting your skirt, she roughly clawed up them from your core, lifting her hands to land rough spanks.

Crying out and yelping “Mommy please” you beg with her after each spank until your ass was glowing bright red and the heat from the fire was not helping with the pain, but the pleasure mixed with it was all-consuming.

“Oh, you want to please mommy? Let me see how good you're being” running her fingers through your folds, her fingers instantly drenched with your juices. Feeling her long fingers run through you was so painstakingly good, you had to stop yourself from gutting your hips back and displeasing mistress.

“Oh, look how good you’re being” licking her fingers clean moaning at how divine you tasted on her tongue. God, you wished you could suck those fingers, your thoughts earning a whimper as you stop yourself from drooling.

“Up you get” Barely giving you an opportunity to get up from her lap you fall to the floor scrambling to your feet, whimpering at the fabric of your skirt brushing against your burning cheeks.

Grabbing and pouring a glass of wine Larissa rested back into her seat, “play with yourself darling I want to see my little plaything warm herself up for me”

 A warmth runs up your face with her request and you shuffle on your feet “don’t go shy on me now, you were a whimpering messy slut just now” sipping on her whine she takes you by the waist guiding you to staddle her. Your dripping core meeting her front making it throb even more at the friction.

“Come on be good for mommy” she takes your hand with her free hand guiding it down, rubbing them over your dripping cunt. Moaning you dropped your head to rest it on her shoulder “fuck mommy” bucking your hips the new stimulation sending shock waves straight through your entire body.

“Keep going I want to watch you” She starts to strip you as you pleasure yourself over her, your fingers gliding over your core and how that you were free from clothes you used your free hand to grab your breast. Palming it as you pinched your own nipples, getting lost in the pleasure you were building you closed your eyes as your head fell back your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Larissa couldn’t help but watch you, the way your eyebrows knitted together and the way you bit down on your bottom lip it was like a goddess had come down to bless her with your mere presence. Sipping on more wine Larissa drank all of you in her eyes roaming every inch of you.

The pleasure in you had built too quickly you didn’t think you would have been so close to cumming but here you were writhing above her gasping for air. “cum for me darling I want to see you”

All it took was those words, her voice was raspy from the wine sending that last piece of pleasure breaking the dam, a shiver running up your back. “Yes mommy” you cried out for her letting her know that she was the last piece you needed. Your hands jolted as the lingering pleasure ripped through you, slowing down once the stimulation got too much.

“oh no baby keep going” she took your hand again making you apply more pressure and picking up the speed. “It’s too much mommy” your hand falters in her grip but she keeps going making you rub your clit as your body shakes from the overstimulation.

“Let mommy help you” setting her glass down on the table beside her Larissa runs her fingers through your folds, slowly inserting her fingers inside your pussy instantly clenching around her. Biting the inside of your mouth you tried to regain your focus, the pleasure of everything was drowning you. Your eyes flutter open to look at Larissa who was licking her lips, her eyes were burning with desire, and it looked animalistic.

“Keep going until I decide you can stop lovely” her free hand guided your hips to thrust down onto her fingers. You were fucking yourself on her fingers and nothing could be hotter, you were on fire your whole body was burning up and the only thing that could fix it was those long fingers that were reaching those deep spots inside you that make your toes curl.

“Fuck mommy it feels so good” her grip tightening on your hip was strong enough to leave marks. Her other hand was still holding your hand in place making you rub your clit, moving your hand to move faster over your swollen clit.

Your legs were shaking the overstimulation was immense and not having a break between your first orgasm had you gasping and panting as your next one was building too fast for you to keep up with. She kept hitting that perfect spot in you pulling sinful moans and cries from your lips.

“God you look like a sinful mess baby” leaning forward she laid a soft kiss behind your ear making your knees buckle ever so slightly making her fingers hit even deeper. A scream of pleasure was all you could make and she attacked your neck.

She was ruthless as she bit and suck leaving deep red marks along your neck, it was unbearable the pleasure that was consuming you “Pl..please please I'm going to cum” sobbing as she bit that sensitive spot, you went ridged as you gushed over her fingers.

Screaming curses you shook, feeling like you were being torn in half with the sparks flying through your body as you came all over her fingers. “yessss just like that for mommy, let it go, ride it out”

Forcing your hips to keep moving as you shook, Larissa grinned you were a masterpiece of a mess and she was the artist. Licking over your bruised neck she slowly withdrew her fingers and it finally felt like you could breathe again and your body slumped against her.

“oh baby I am not finished with you yet” hooking her arms under your legs she stood and you scrambled to grab onto her holding tight. Your pulse quickened realizing there was more to come, your pussy was throbbing and you didn’t know how much more you could take.

You could feel the cold wood on your back as she lay you down over her desk, taking a step back to gaze over your sweat slicken body. “fuck you are so beautiful like this” your eyes were closed as you tried to catch your breath still and you could hear the faint noise of a zipper over the blood thumbing in your ears.

Next was the still new but familiar sensation of Larissa’s new favorite toy and also your new favorite, she ran her cock through your folds making sure her tip rubbed up against your clit spending more shock waves through you, jumping on the table from the over stimulation.

“Is it still too much for you baby?” Your pussy was a mess it was throbbing and spasming still and Larissa had no intentions of slowing down. Moving her shaft to your entrance she slowly pushed just her tip in, as if mirroring each other both of you had your eyes rolling back.

“Yes, mommy but it's so good” whining your answer right back at her, Larissa’s knees almost buckled with how good you felt, your over-stimulated pussy clenching around her instantly and almost pulling her over the edge. Resting her head on your shoulder she worshipped your body leaving kisses across your skin.

“Good girl” She started her thrusts going slow so she could torcher you a little longer but also so she wouldn’t cum so quickly. You were a beautiful mess below her, and she wanted to worship you, she wanted to get down on her knees and pray to your dripping temple.

“You’re my good girl baby, you’ve done so well tonight” Biting down on your ear lobe you pulled your tired arms to wrap around her running your hands through her hair and pulling her closer to you so she can continue her prayers over your skin.

She couldn’t stop touching you all over one of her hands held one of your legs so they could stay wrapped around her while the other ran over your neck caressing down to reach your breast palming it in her hand “I love your body so much darling it’s a gift from the gods just so I can defile it with my lust”

Throwing your head back whimpering you clench harder around her shaft, you loved her fingers but having her inside you filling you fulling and stretching you deliciously as your pussy wrapped around her.

Picking up the pace Larissa started to gasp and whimper as she continued her travels along your body, swapping her hand on your breast for her mouth causing you to scream out more and your legs tighten pulling her deeper within earning a thrust to that special spot deep inside nearly making you black out.

The room was filled with the sounds of slapping skin as Larissa drove deeper continuing to hit that spot now that she found it. “I... I’m going to ahh” trying to talk was so hard your brain was mush at this point and stringing a sentence together was getting more and more difficult as your walls began to tighten but Larissa knew what you were going to say, she could feel it and she wanted it so badly.

“That good baby you cum for mommy, I’m so close too I want to fill you up while you milk me dry”

The next sound you make was a scream that ripped all the air out of your lungs, it was like you could see the stars and the heavens above but you were slammed back down to earth when you heard Larissa’s growl as she came to her climax.

It was animalistic the way she drove herself deeper making sure you took every inch of her, she was drowning in you her eyes her as dark as the night sky as the lust and feel of you drove her to fill you with every drop. She was ridged as she bit down hard on your shoulder, she was shaking as the pleasure coursed through her.

It took a moment for you both to grab your breaths but having her collapsed against your body helped ground you and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. It took Larissa a minute more to come back but you didn’t mind as you curled her loose strands of hair around your fingers while the other soothingly ran up and down her back.

“That was amazing darling” huffing out a breath as she changed her core back to its natural beauty, so she didn’t hurt you by having to slide out. "you weren't so bad yourself" giggling like a child at her.

“Let's get you cleaned up” On wobbly legs, she scooped you up in her arms to carry you back to bed. Laying you so gently onto the bed and gracing your face with feather-light kisses, Larissa was always a completely different person after sex she was so caring and attentive to you always making sure you were well taken care of.

Fetching a cool cloth she cleaned you up and wrapped you up in a blanket, “get some rest darling” moving to get off the bed you grab her wrist.

“Cuddles?” putting on your best doe-eyed look knowing she’ll never refuse you and cuddles. A big smile grew on your face as she pulled the blankets back to curl up beside you. “Always my love” wrapping her arms around you pulling you closer into her embrace.

The thunderstorm had started to fade away and the room was filled with the soft rumbling of distant thunder and soft breaths as you kissed her softly to sleep thinking to yourself how lucky you were to have this woman wrapped up in your arms.

…

It had been a month since your little getaway and the students had been back for a while, unfortunately a flu had been going around the school and no one could escape it. You had been one of those victims of the sickness that plagued you for 2 weeks now.

Here you were slumped over the toilet for the millionth time today, not even making it to the staff toilets you had to charge into the students to expel what little of breakfast you had left in your stomach.

The students inside were certainly startled and ran straight out as you heaved, resting your head over the cold stall wall you heard a familiar sound of heels travelling down the hall outside. “Love!?” Larissa called out for you, and you cursed the student that went running to the principle, you didn’t want to concern her and it had taken you a week just to convince her to let you return to work.

“I’m ok Larissa jus...” the stall door flew open the light shining in and Larissa gasped at the sight of you. Your hair was a mess and you were so pale it scared her, swooping you in her arms she stormed down the hall. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go back to work”

Kicking the door open to your private quarters she gently lay you down on the sofa “we are going to the doctor” you begin to interject but she shushes you earning a scowl.

“you have had this flu for 2 weeks now and you just keep getting worse darling!” she was rushing around the flat grabbing her things together and your coat. “we cant go now Larissa I have classes!”

“I have already had Professor Yen fill in for you, they will cover for you until we get this sorted”

[asterefflores]

Hello!

How are you?

I Just wanted to say that your story truly touches my soul and i love it sooooo much 😭♥️

And one more thing ...

It's kinda a reaction but can I know what happens If:

Cale and rok soo have a little argument with each other but it gets so bad and Cale snaps and shouts at Rok soo :

"I wish you were never my brother from the start and even if you ever were I wish i hadn't made that deal to change our places to see you again!!"

I wanna know what the twins and others reaction is..

You know.. it has been running like shit in my head...

And.. Can I have some fan arts about it please?

I'm sorry If it's too much of a request 😭😭

Glad you're loving and enjoying my fanfic 🌸🌸

As for the requested fight, I'm sorry I don't feel like drawing it *cough* but I did write a mini- or I think it's the average length for a single novel chapter? lol anyway I wrote a chapter for you I guess, I'm guessing it's based on Cale and RokSoo in my fanfic, right? Otherwise it would probably turn out differently, cuz my Cale here is stable(?) and I can't add too much angst into the fight without being realistic to their characters in my fanfic lol but here it is, hope you enjoy it.

------------------

“I wish…”

Rok-Soo observed as Cale before him sighed quietly with his eyes covered as he rested his forehead on his palm. The air around the younger redhead made everyone tense up.

“…I wish…”

“…Cale?” Rok-Soo slightly frowned as Cale's voice grew weaker and more weary.

“I wish you were never my brother from the start…”

“……”

It was barely audible, but everyone seemed to have heard the whisper coming from none other than Cale.

“I wish you were never my brother from the start…and even if you ever were, I wish I hadn’t accepted the deal to change our places to see you again…”

The room was so silent it was hard to tell if anyone was even breathing.

Rok-Soo’s face remained the same, looking long at Cale, whose eyes were still hidden behind his pale hand.

“I see,” His calm voice nearly echoed in the room after the heavy silence. He nodded as he pushed himself to his feet calmly. “I’ll let Ron pack everything for me and leave tonight. I’ll be in Super Rock Villa.” He heard a quiet sound like a scoff from the other.

“I don’t see why you need to tell me where you’re staying at—”

“I’ll be in Super Rock Villa, Cale.”

“……”

Seeing as Cale fell silent, Rok-Soo turned to the others in the room, glancing at the Henituse family, and they silently turned to leave the room, their eyes lingering on the younger redhead, who was still in the same position in his seat beside the window.

Rok-Soo carried the worried Ohn and Hong in his arms with Raon around his shoulders and looked at Ron’s stiff face, receiving a nod, and the old butler got to work immediately.

Cale sat still, staring at his lap, as the sounds of everybody else around him faded until he was left with only the sound of a single person standing at his door.

“Eat and rest well.”

That was the last thing he heard before the quiet sound of the door closing behind Rok-Soo. The faint click strangely sounded loud in the silent room.

He was all alone, feeling like a ghost in his own room. He barely heard his own breathing as he was more aware of the slight tremble in his hands.

‘…he noticed, didn’t he?’

He finally let out a long sigh, removing his hand from his forehead and resting his head back with his eyes closed.

Of course, Rok-Soo would notice him trembling pathetically and feel sorry for him.

“Now you’ve gone and done it.” He mumbled with a scoff at himself, “Good job ruining everything in a matter of seconds.”

Opening his eyes, Cale stared long at the ceiling that looked too plain and far at that moment, making him feel the room was far too large for just him alone.

It is the past all over again, he thought.

After staring blankly for what felt like a whole day until it was late and dark outside, he finally decided to move from his seat and function again.

By function, he meant going to bed. He thought of taking a bath to freshen his mood before sleeping, but it only made him feel cold and alone in his spacious room. Well, he wasn’t expecting much change, anyway.

He threw himself on the bed with a heavy sigh, which he felt was still stuck inside and wouldn’t come out, no matter how many times he tried to force it out and get rid of the tightness in his chest.

Closing his eyes, he slowly accepted the coldness and felt numb and unbothered to think of anything anymore.

It’s for the best.

He drifted off to sleep with the thought, as he did every night for the next whole month…

.

.

A month passed, and Cale more or less moved like a ghost in the castle, silently leaving his room to his office and then back to his room after he was done with his duties as the Duke, rejecting his fidgety father’s offer of resting and leaving the work to him and Bassen or Violan. At the very least, he joined his family during meals every day.

Lilly and Bassen made it their mission to follow him around but maintain a reasonable distance, wanting to give him space but too worried to leave him alone. Violan, his mother, never misses a day of assuring him that she is there for him whenever he needs someone to talk to, and she leaves his side with one stern request asking him not to drink too much alcohol.

He won’t drink, not in front of anyone and not when the family is watching him like hawks and ready to jump his way if he so touched any bottle during their silent meals. He enjoys a few glasses before bed three times a week alone in his room when he’s sure no one will come to find him during late hours.

Today, however, he finally decided to rest and accept his father’s offer to leave the reports and documents to the family to finish. He woke up with a horrible headache, feeling so heavy he could barely bring himself to bathe or push anything into his mouth. The food the servants left for him for breakfast was left cold on the table for three hours or so.  

He lay on his back, eyes closed and feeling numb with the humming silence. It was funny how it seemed not even a soul passed by his door outside ever since Rok-Soo left with everyone. It felt like all the liveliness around the house was solely for the older redhead, and Cale’s relationship with everyone in this world didn’t improve. He felt like it was all an illusion now.

He sighed silently, knowing he should stop thinking this way, but it strangely felt relaxing the more he stayed alone. He was developing bad habits again, and he couldn’t care to stop them.

He expected no one from Rok-Soo’s people would ever want to look at his face again after the things he said. He believed Ron also would be too disappointed to even think of him anymore, but…

Cale sighed again, recalling how often he had to pretend he wasn’t aware of some of them sneaking into his office using invisibility magic and watching him. Don’t they already know he could use and sense magic well at this point? Really, he thought of it more as them provoking him than checking on him.  

It started with Raon sneaking in through the opened window with only Ohn and Hong, and sometimes, they’d bring Choi Han and Choi Jung-Soo with them. Cale may have left the window to his office and room open on purpose for them to sneak in any time, and they may have noticed his silent message of welcoming their presence to start visiting more than once a day.

He also noticed Sui Khan stopping by once every week to watch him for hours from the window before leaving as silently as he came.

Ron would drop by on days and ask him directly with his benign smile if the Puppy Young Master needed anything, and Cale would always say no, thank the old butler, and leave, as coldly as that, but at least he wasn’t rude. Cale was not acting Trash, after all.

‘Ah, maybe that's what's worrying them…’

He opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling with the soft sunlight seeping through the windows. He isn’t acting like Trash; he’s genuinely wanting to be left alone. Perhaps Rok-Soo was the one telling them to check on him, but he doubted it. This was more Deruth’s style of caring than Rok-Soo’s.

Rok-Soo is probably worried, or is he?

He shook his head slightly. No, that hyung of his must be worried, as he’s secretly been since before the start of that last conversation.

Then, the crew was probably checking on him just to reassure Rok-Soo.

He quietly clicked his tongue with a slight sigh and frown. Calmly flipping to his side, he decided to stop thinking about anything at all.

With his eyes closed, his mind was becoming numb again, and he slowly drifted to dreamland with the humming silence and the soft rustles of trees moving with the breeze outside and birds chirping.

Knock, Knock—

His eyes snapped open at the sudden interruption. He stiffened as he thought something must have happened since his family promised to leave him to rest unless it was urgent.

Before he could ask, the answer came from behind the door.

“Young Master, it’s Hans.”

He pushed himself to sit up, “What is it?” he slipped his cold feet into his slippers as he heard the man eagerly answer.

“Um, there is a letter for the Young Master.”

He frowned and stopped walking midway to the door. A letter? And why does Hans sound excited instead of alarmed? Not that it’s a bad thing, but he suddenly feels like going back to his bed.

However, he walked with a silent sigh and pulled the door open, slightly startling the ginger-head, but Hans looked so happy that he forgot even to let out a yelp this time.

“Here’s the letter, Young Master!”

“…thanks.”

He accepted the envelope that was pushed into his hands and raised an eyebrow as Hans didn’t turn around and run off as usual but instead waited with a broad smile like an excited brat awaiting his reaction after giving a gift.

Cale sighed as elegantly as always, staring intently at the envelope with a scroll attached. Confirming by using magic and his ability that it was safe, he opened the envelope in front of the Deputy Butler and pulled out the paper, leaving the scroll for later.

He opened the letter and found the first line with the familiar handwriting…

[ I’m still in Super Rock Villa. ]

Cale blinked at the words, blankly reading the rest of the letter that was obviously written by others as well listing down things and foods that could tempt him into paying a visit soon.

His hands slowly moved to open the scroll, and as he expected, it was a teleportation scroll to Super Rock Villa.

‘…of course Rok-Soo wouldn’t wait forever.’

He was still a bit shocked...

Cale was more used to people waiting for him to approach first and fix whatever damage was there or to address any problem, whether he was the cause or not, and most of them would eventually give up. After all, his family usually chose the waiting game, and he may have made a habit of taking advantage of it at some point. However, this is Rok-Soo he’s dealing with now, not Deruth, not anyone else.

“Young Master, the Master requested to know your answer as soon as possible.”

Cale looked at Hans’ bright eyes before he sighed, brushing his hair back with one hand, “I’m going to see hyung today. Tell father I won’t be with them at tonight’s dinner.”

“Yes, Young Master!”

Cale watched the butler run off to deliver the ‘long awaited’ news. He shook his head as he thought surely the man was happy the suffocating air around the castle would finally disappear soon, as were the rest of the Henituse family and the staff members.

He closed the door and looked at the letter again with the many handwriting styles. ‘…even with this, you guys sound vicious.’ A light puff of air left him as a silent chuckle, looking at the letter written by the kids and the rest, along with Rok-Soo, all crying out a big “Come over or else we’ll drag you this time.”

He took a deep breath and let it out calmly, feeling somewhat light for the first time after a month.

“…I’m nervous.”

He silently scoffed at himself for feeling this way at his age. Of all the things he had gone through, he was now nervous about facing Rok-Soo after their first fight.

He can’t refuse, and he should stop this while Rok-Soo is still giving the chance. The raging storm in his head from months ago had cooled off considerably by now, and maybe the reason was that he regretted the loneliness he had caused himself once again after all the years.

He nodded to himself with a silent sigh, looking again at the one sentence Rok-Soo wrote in the letter, then at the blue sky outside.

…he has plenty of time to relax before seeing his vicious hyung for the first time after a whole month.

.

.

“Human! Gentle Human! We’re leaving now. Remember to make up and never fight again!” Raon announced brightly as they were leaving Rok-Soo’s room after eating together, as if nothing had happened between the two redhead siblings.

Cale watched silently as Rok-Soo relaxed in his seat and waved away the kids, Choi Han, Choi Jung-Soo, Sui Khan and Ron, with a stoic face.

The door closed, and the room was too silent after the soft click.

Cale stared into space as Rok-Soo comfortably sipped his tea in the seat beside him. He didn’t expect eating dinner with the group to be… this easy, as if everything was all right, as if they trusted everything was already solved by his presence here now.

“…I’m sorry for what I said.”

He finally mumbled, and he noticed Rok-Soo stopped sipping his tea for a moment beside him.

Rok-Soo went back to sipping his tea leisurely with a quiet hum, “Ready to talk about what’s been bothering you, dongsaeng?” he looked at Cale and smiled a little at the little nod. He couldn’t stop himself from patting the brat’s head to make him finally look at him.

“Good, I’m listening.”

[lifeonthemurdersim]

Ardens Aeturnum- Chapter 1: Castitas Fandom/Universe: Ghost (band) Characters/Pairing: OC x OC AO3 Link(full tags, warnings etc here) Word count: 1,805 words Synopsis: "Whatever burns, burns eternally..." Author's Note: This fic is comprised of a collection of little moments from Dante (@nocturnal-bishop's OC) and Cadence(my OC)'s time at the ministry together. Only Chapter 1 is part of GKtober, the rest will be uploaded on AO3 and possibly on @chase-the-music. More about Gorekinktober on my pinned post here! Kinktober prompt(s) used: Wax Play Goretober prompt used: N/A

MARCH 2020

Drip. Gasp.

Drip. Gasp.

Drip. Gasp.

Hot wax drips ever-so-slowly from the flaming end of a wide black candle in the Bishop's hand onto the Advocatus Angeli's back. Not an unusual pasttime for the two of them at all. Dante recalls it from as far back as their first night spent together. He knows how much the other loves it. He loves it too.

Cade's hair is tied up in a messy bun on top of his head, revealing his smooth, toned back covered in copious spots of wax already. They take longer to cool on him than anyone else Dante's done this with. Such a beautiful man. It's funny how arguments between the two often devolve into this. But how could Dante ever resist the way this little fireball melts under his touch?

His gasps and hisses of pain are so soft, subtle, yielding, so contrary to the disgruntled comments he was making throughout the Papa's anointment ceremony. Dante's not surprised that left him in a bad mood, but he's not opposed to providing a distraction. It's not like he hasn't needed the same at times.

"F-faster..." Cade urges, shifting his shoulders a little. "Please..."

"I'm sorry darling, I can't control the speed at which the candle burns." Dante teases lightly. Cade lets out an unusually frustrated growl into the pillow in front of him.

"Dante, please!" he replies.

"You seem to have lost the ability to talk back now, gattino." he comments of the other's begging.

"Shut uuuuup..." Cade whines, startling the taller man somewhat. He frowns down at him, but he's not overly offended considering he knows he's presumably only out for punishment.

"Oh dear, perhaps not." he replies, tutting at him and flicking the candle hard, delivering a larger splash of wax which has Cade cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, suddenly breathing a lot more heavily, while Dante too draws in a deep, aroused breath.

"Closer, closer, bring it closer!" Cadence urges, and it's... strange. It's not the hazy, soft murmur he lets out when he's in so much pleasure he can barely speak. It's hard, angry, still very much the tone he had when they were arguing and it leaves Dante a little... concerned.

"...Cade?" he asks, actually raising the candle up a little so the melted wax remains at the top.

"More... harder... closer... more, please, Dante!" the other insists, his voice cracking with the desperation. While that sweet begging would normally stand to urge Dante on all the more, it's something he's used enough to hearing to know that right now it actually sounds... extremely off. He places the candle back in it's holder, bending down slightly beside the bed and turning the younger man's face to look at him.

There's pleasure in those hazel eyes, yes, and anger too, but there's also a tremendous amount of hurt. Not physical pain, but pain Dante heavily suspects he's trying to counteract with physical pain. "You're... not OK, are you?" Cade doesn't look away, he holds his stare but looks on the verge of breaking into tears. "Aspera." Dante says softly.

"I didn't say it." Cade replies in a quiet, choked voice.

"I'm saying it." Dante says, pulling him up and into a tight embrace. At first Cade tenses up further, but then his body softens and begins to shake as he starts to sob against Dante's shoulder. "Idiota..." he scolds gently. "Don't ever use me to hurt yourself." Cade nods against his shoulder.

"I'm... sorry..." he replies. "Just... it's everything at once, Copia being anointed and... and my dysphoria's been really fucking bad recently and... and I... I haven't been sleeping well at... at all..."

"It's OK." Dante assures him, stroking the back of his neck and letting him speak.

"I'm... worried that I'll lose my job b-because I won't be needed anymore." Cade continues. "And I've... I've really started to love it here, Dante!" The fact he's so passionately upset about this is actually heartbreaking.

"You're an excellent asset to the Ministry, Cade." he assures. "The Clergy all agree your role here is secure."

"Really?" Cade sniffs, leaning back a little to look him in the eyes, arms still draped over his shoulders. Dante's not used to seeing him looking this vulnerable, not in a platonic sense anyway. "I... kind of thought maybe... no-one liked me."

"Your role is divisive by nature." Dante points out.

"Think I'm divisive by nature." Cade suggests.

"Perhaps... it's a little of both." Dante agrees with a fond smile. "But the Ghouls like you a lot now you've come out of your shell." he reminds him. "The Papa likes you too, even if he's loath to admit it."

"I find that hard to believe." Cade mutters, but Dante suspects that deep down even he knows it.

"And not to overinflate my significance." Dante finishes, putting a hand to his bare shoulder. "But I think I like you most of all."

"...Why?" the Advocatus asks, some genuine bemusement in his expression. "I... I've been such a dickhead to you!" Dante chuckles slightly but shakes his head.

"Never more than I could bear." he assures. He feels he's very much responsible too, he knows he's found it hard to control his temper at times. "I know we've had our differences, Cade." he points out. "But you're passionate, dedicated, loyal..." His hand slides from Cade's shoulder up his neck and to his face, where a very slight smile is breaking at his kind words. "You've been there for me through some of the hardest times of my life." His thumb slides across the other's cheek. "Despite all we've been through, I have to say, you're still my closest friend here."

"Dante..." Cade says with a soft, affectionate look in his eyes, bringing his hand up to rest against Dante's. It's a look he recalls well from the other man when they first became friends. It's less common now. He misses it. "I feel the same, I..." He looks down and sighs. "I just wish we weren't so in opposition professionally sometimes."

"We don't have to be." Dante tells him softly. "Not anymore."

"What?" Cade looking back up at him curiously. "In... what sense?"

"I no longer have to ready the Papa for his role, from this day forth I merely protect him." he reminds him.

"Oh... right... and... I don't need to challenge his suitability..." Cade realises in response. "Only everyone's loyalty to the Ministry."

"Precisely." Dante agrees, nodding slightly. "So unless you have doubts about me in that regard..."

"Never!" Cade interrupts with another slight laugh. "You're like... the most dedicated person I know!" Dante smiles. "Wow, you're right, we can just... go back to the way we used to be." He looks to the side, smiling to himself a little. "Well... almost..." Dante gazes at him for a moment, but can't easily ascertain what he means by that.

"...Why almost?" he questions, unable to avoid the curiosity. Cade gives him a slight grimace; the kind of look that suggests he knows this is awkward but intends to go through with it anyway.

"Look... Dante... erm..." he begins, taking the hand that's on his face back down to rest against his thigh, holding it in hus more fully. "While we're sort of starting anew, I... I want to confess something. I've dropped hints before but..." He takes a deep breath. "When you were with... well... OK maybe not really with..." he rambles, glancing at Dante and then seemingly restarting his sentence entirely. "There was a time... before things became so complicated between us..." He pushes his bangs off of his face. "Fuck, I'm just going to bloody say it. I used to be in love with you."

Dante looks at Cade. He looks entirely serious, and Dante is... somewhat shocked. Because the truth is, he did suspect that back when they'd only been friends for a few months, Cade's feelings for him weren't at all platonic. He was never the most subtle with it, after all. Dante had been attracted to him too, in a way that extended beyond mere sex if he was completely honest. He guessed in the back of his mind he saw Cade's feelings the same as his; an initial infatuation that would fade with time.

Because Terzo was his absolute world back then. Cade could have given him anything and everything, in fact maybe at times he tried to, and still the fact he liked him rather a lot would have never been able to compare to his love for the now late Papa. "You... did...?" he asks slowly.

Cade nods. "Tried to tell you, too..." he says with an embarrassed laugh. "The shit you always tease me about."

Ti amo. He'd said ti amo, and Dante had assumed he was mistranslation rather than ask, because... well maybe because he didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to have to let him down. Because he'd liked the way things were, he supposed. The same reason he'd let the incontestable flirting and the closeness and eventually the sex happen in the first place. "I'm... so sorry if I hurt you..." he murmurs softly. Cade shrugs.

"They do say all's fair in love and war." he replies. "I could have ended things at any time but I chose to take every moment I could with you." Dante exhales softly, not quite a sigh but very close to one, squeezing the other's hand tight. There's something so lovely about Cade that he's not sure most people appreciate.

"You are... telling me all this in the past tense, yes?" he asks curiously.

"Oh, one hundred percent." he assures hastily. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you're amazing, Dante. I'm never going to stop admiring you, you're an incredible friend and... well I'm all for us continuing to mess around together every now and again because you're hot as fuck." He shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh. "But I don't think I would put myself through all of that again."

"Yes, that's... understandable." Dante replies with a slight nod, giving a polite smile back. It makes perfect sense of course. So... why does he feel almost... disappointed?

"I do love you though, Dante." Cade says fondly, smiling. "Ti voglio bene." Dante smiles slightly despite his mixed feelings.

"The "o" in "voglio" is... a little longer." he advises him a little uncertainly. "Ti voglio bene, Cade." he repeats with the correct pronunciation.

"Right." Cade says. "I'll work on it." He looks at Dante a moment more, and then pulls him into a tight embrace. "Thank you." he says earnestly against the Bishop's neck.

"You're very welcome." Dante replies. But with the unease that's stirring at the centre of his chest... he's really not so sure he is.

End note: honestly super excited to continue this in November/December 😊

[erroramended-blog]

Sketch dump extravaganza!

So, the end is near. The end of the owl house that is. I’m excited, and nervous, and happy and sad, and all sorts of other feelings all at once. This show really meant a lot to me, and this is the first time I’ve ever been THIS involved in making stuff for a fandom. It really helped me grow in both my art and my writing, so as a sort of sent off, I put together this! It’s a look back on my Owl house journey in the form of sketches I never posted, process pics, and unfinished works, along with some creator commentary!

Starting it off with a ton of Hunter! Hes been my most drawn victim subject, and one of my top faves. Above is a number of sketches I never finished and a few alternate goof arounds. Sometimes when I feel stuck trying to capture an expression I draw the most basic version of what I wanna get across, both for my amusement and to get out of the funk. More to see below the cut.

This next one was started during the hiatus after Yesterdays Lie and never finished. It proved a bit too challenging at the time.

That background was waaay above my skill level at the time, so this is as far as I got. You’ll notice, Willow is the only fully drawn character. I just really liked how she was coming out.

I already wanted Hunter to be part of the friend gang before he’d even met Willow and Gus, and I wanted them all to have a fun human realm adventure hiking and having a picnic. Here are some sketch highlights.

Hunter found a good walking stick, and then Flapjack found one too. Ghost in a cat backpack, Gus with a dandelion.

Next up is an early imagining of what Belos’s final form might look like.

With a scared Hunter for scale. It was also related to my long running fanfic (good days bad days and all the days in between)  written during that same hiatus along with a few other arts.

Hunter was not the only character I liked to make suffer. Here are a few Raine sketches related to that fic (on the right) and a few unfinished pieces from after we met Terra (On the left)

Next up, in a continuation of the Raine suffering. (And my terrible goofy looking thumbnail sketch on the upper left.)

Sketches from my happy then sad Raine and Eda fanart, featuring dead (or mostly dead) Raine. Fun fact, both the content, and style used here were inspired by the short animated film Fuelled, in which a cat wife seeks revenge for the murder of her cat husband. (Ok, it was actually inspired by a Fuelled fan AMV set to Mitski’s Because Dreaming Costs Money, My Dear, but still, beautiful film, go check it out.) For a change of pace, here’s something cute.

Big happy family with young bats, and baby Hunter. This was going to be for an unfinished fic I started in which the bats are already Raine’s adopted kids, and, unable to let baby Hunter suffer, Raine kidnaps him, and goes to Eda for help. Happy family shenanigans ensue.  Here’s a chunk of that fic. (and we’re back to suffering for both Raine and Hunter, so be warned) -- “Eda, I-I am so sorry to show up like this, but—” Raine swallowed hard, and looked over their shoulder into the distance. Fear in their eyes, like something was going to pop out of the woods and get them. “I did something...and I am in so much trouble and...and I didn’t know who else to turn to.” The kids behind them looked up at her with a mix of fear and hope. One of the younger ones clung to Raine’s pant leg, looking especially weary. “You owe me an explanation.” She said, stepping aside. “But it can wait. Get in here.” “Thank you,” They said, sounding beyond relieved, and absolutely exhausted. The kids followed them inside, and Eda paused in the doorway, looked out into the night, unsure what she was expecting to see. Nothing was out there. “Hey, Hooty.” Eda said quietly. The house demon sleepily gave a hoot of acknowledgment “Keep an eye out. Let me know if you see anything.”  With that she shut the door, and turned to face the...complicated situation she was suddenly faced with. Raine had set the youngest child down on her couch. There was a wad of bloody gauze secured to the kids ear. “Do you have any healing supplies?” Raine asked, firmly focused on the injured ear. “Anything for pain?”  

“Yeah.. uh, I’ll grab um.” she said, moving to fetch the kit. The whole situation was bizarre and confusing, but getting everyone taken care of had to be the first priority.

One of the kids followed her. 

“Do you have any food?” The little pony-tailed kid asked. Truth be told, no, she didn’t. Not much anyway. She really needed to keep more around, especially now that she had— oh, she should mention that. It’s a good thing he was a pretty heavy sleeper.

“Kitchens that way” She said, pointing “Don’t burn the place down. Help yourself to what you find. What are you, five?”

“I’m ten” The kid said “Hunter is five. I’m not five, I’m not a baby.”

“Good for you.” She said, digging through the half depleted healer's kit. “Don’t touch the bottle with the apple on it.”

“Katya,” Raine called, worry in their voice “Where did you go? Come back here please.”

“Sorry!” said the kid whose name was apparently Katya. The kid ran back to the living room, and Eda followed. She handed over the kit.

“It’s not much,” She said. “I can see about whipping up a pain potion. I gotta look up the doses for a kid — how old is...”

“I told you, Hunter is five!” Katya said, exasperated. 

“Katya, please.” Raine said, sounding more tired than frustrated. “Yes, he’s five.”

--

Next up, an unfinished crossover between Owl House and Hades Town

Set to the song Doubt Comes In, with Raine as Orpheus and Eda as Eurydice. I never finished it because I didn’t like how it was turning out (and it was way to much work, lol.) But I still love the crossover. Some highlights below.

Next, sketches from things that did end up finished.

And a few alternate poses and expressions from finished stuff.

Here’s King, and an itty-bitty Eda.

And some post Kings Tide sketching.

Another happy family type sketch from waaay back

and lastly, me!

Its me as an owl house character, featuring a spider beast form, and non-binary cape! So there you have it!

In it’s final secret title message to us, Owl House thanked us for watching, so I want to thank it back for all the entertainment and inspiration it gave me (And thanks to those who have followed, liked, reblogged and commented on my art and writing along the way.). I’m gonna miss it, and I wish it hadn’t been cut short, but I’m looking forward to its last episode. Goodbye Owl House.

[stargazer-liz]

Serendipity (Poe Dameron x Original Female Character) Chapter II: The Resistance

Masterlist

The Planet D'Qar, Outer Rim, 34 ABY

They hadn't been long in hyperspace when the questions started. Apparently, Poe couldn't keep his mouth shut for long. 

"So, you said you had lots of piloting experience. What exactly did you do?"

Sora supposed it wouldn't hurt giving him some answers. After all, they kind of were on the same side. Whilst she might not have been a Resistance member, she certainly didn't support the First Order either. Heck, if they knew she was alive, she'd probably get a bounty put on her head. 

"I am...was a smuggler," she said, leaning back into her chair. Poe kept his gaze locked on her, the ship navigating on auto-pilot during their hyperspace journey to D'Qar. He had turned his seat towards her and made himself comfortable. "We were a tiny crew of two and had a nice ship. We traveled all around the galaxy to look for jobs and it kept us pretty busy."

Poe raised one brow. "A smuggler, huh? Didn't expect that. But I guess that's how you learned to fight."

"It comes with the job." She shrugged her shoulders, fingers drawing imaginary patterns on her trousers. "A smuggler who can't land a good punch or knows how to fire a blaster is as good as dead."

"Can't disagree. But how did you end up on Jakku then? What happened to your crew and ship?"

Sora didn't want to go into detail, not yet. Besides, they were on a mission and would part ways again afterwards. He didn't have to know everything about her. "Two years ago, our last job...escalated and we were forced to split up. My crewmate managed to escape but I wasn't so lucky. Honestly, I don't know how I ended up on Jakku. One second, I was unconscious and suddenly, I woke up in the desert of Jakku in an escape pod where Rey found me. That's all I know."

A look of sympathy flashed across the pilot's face. "I'm sorry. And out of all the places you could have landed, it just had to be Jakku."

She huffed. "Yeah, I guess someone out there really hates me. Do you know how hard it was to look at Unkar's ugly face everyday and not being able to punch him? Everyone on that planet depends on him and it made me sick."

"Saw him for the first time today and all I wanted to do was punch him. So I get your feelings, princess." 

There it was again, that damned nickname leaving his tongue so easily. Maybe this was just the way he talked to every woman. The name should annoy her way more than it actually did. Somehow, it made it easier for her to converse with him. It was more like talking to a long lost friend than a total stranger, something she appreciated after two years of basically speaking to no other human apart from Rey. 

"Why didn't you steal this ship earlier though?" Poe sounded genuinely baffled, as if he really couldn't believe why she had stayed so long when she could have left at any moment.

"And leave Rey behind, after everything she did for me?" Sora shook her head, knowing that she had never even been tempted. "No way. Never. I knew I had to wait until she was ready to leave her home."

Poe hummed, smiling at her. "A loyal friend. You know, we could use someone like you. The Resistance, I mean. You're a pilot, you can fight and you're loyal to your cause. The general would be honored to have you on her team."

"Look, all I want is to make sure Rey is safe and gets back home unharmed. That's it." Deep down, she knew it was only partly true.

"Alright, I understand," the pilot responded, though not quite believing her, and leaned forward in his seat, elbows pressing into his thighs as he rested his chin on his hands. "Just...just know the offer still stands, in case you change your mind."

Sora nodded and raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. "And what about you? Have you always been a pilot for the Resistance?"

Poe chuckled. "Believe it or not, I once was a smuggler too. A part of the Spice Runners on Kijimi, actually." He looked and feigned anger when she laughed at him. "Hey, that's not funny."

"Wait! Don't tell me you're the man Zorri hates so much."

Straightening his back again, the pilot looked at her in disbelief. "You know Zorri?"

Sora nodded, letting out another laugh. "Met her once or twice during a job. One time, we got drunk and she was raging about a man who had abandoned her and the gang. Let me give you an advise: You better not step foot on Kijimi ever again. She seemed ready to tear you to shreds."

"Thanks for the heads up. Not that I plan on ever going back there again anyways." 

"How did you manage to escape the First Order? Beebee-Ate told me that you had been captured by them, so how did you make it back to Jakku?" The question had bothered Sora the whole day. Surely, they wouldn't have let a Resistance member walk out of their front door.

"Now, that's a crazy story. A stormtrooper helped me escape. We stole a TIE Fighter together and were shot down before we could land safely."

For someone who knew a former stormtrooper herself, it wasn't actually that crazy. A rare coincidence but not entirely unbelievable. But the story was piercing itself together in her mind like a solved puzzle. "So he was the Finn you were looking for when I found you?"

Poe nodded, smiling sadly. "He was a great guy."

Sora felt the need to give him some hope. The sad look just didn't fit him. "You know, there's a chance he's with Rey and BeeBee-Ate. I mean, I can't think of any man on Jakku that she would willingly leave with. Logically, it has to be an outsider. And if you survived the crash, so could he."

Her words seemed to work. Poe's sad smile vanished slowly, turning into a hopeful expression. "You're right. It makes sense. We'll meet him again soon then," he said before he changed the topic when he caught her yawning again. "Am I that boring, princess?" The grin on his lips told her he was only joking.

"Sorry," she chuckled weakly, rubbing her eyes. "Ever since I've landed on Jakku, I'm basically always tired. Guess all of that sun and sand really gets to me."

"We won't reach D'Qar in hours." He nodded towards the tiny sleeping quarter behind them. "I could really use some sleep as well. Let's lay down for a bit."

He did indeed look exhausted. Dark rings were prominent underneath his eyes and his skin had grown paler since she had found him. The brown in his eyes was less vibrant and she wondered when he had last slept peacefully. There was no doubt he had endured some kind of torture on the First Order's fleet but since there were no major wounds, she assumed it had been Kylo Ren who had led the interrogation. Invisible to the outside, the wounds in his mind were likely agonizing.

"Sounds fine to me." Pushing herself to her feet and watching him do the same, Sora dragged her body to the sleeping quarters and pressed the button to open the door. Although she really didn't have the energy to climb up the short ladder to lay down, she figured Poe's body deserved some rest. She just hoped the ship would keep flying smoothly because the upper bed had no safety railing and she really didn't want to tumble to the hard ground. 

The smuggler left her shoes next to the door and slid out of her jacket, letting it slide to the floor carelessly. Poe slipped off his shoes as well and instantly laid his battered body on the mattress. Sora almost slipped on the ladder when he let out a loud moan. "Oh, this feels amazing. So soft."

Shaking her head to erase the memory of the sound, she had to agree with him. The mattress was much more comfortable than it looked. There were no blankets, not that they needed them anyways. "This is definitely better than my bed on Jakku," she mumbled, her eyes already closing as her heartbeat slowed down to a calm, steady rhythm. "Good night, Poe." Her voice was barely audible and she doubted he had even heard it. 

"Good night, princess." Poe's whisper was met with no response for Sora was already fast asleep. 

It was the best rest she had had in two years.

*****

Poe had woken up first, rattled awake as the ship left hyperspace. They had slept for a whole night and day, the longest sleep he had had in years. Maker, their bodies and minds had to have been extremely tired, he assumed.  

Running a hand through his hair to tame the locks, he quickly walked towards the cockpit to shut off the alarm before it could even ring. Through the front window, he could see the green round mass of D'Qar in front of them, its planetary ring casting shadows on the surface.

Poe couldn't really believe how lucky he had gotten to be able to see it again. If he hadn't met Finn, he'd be dead by now. And if Sora hadn't found him, who knew how long it would have taken him to find a way to reach the Resistance's base. Thanks to Sora and her friend, BeeBee-Ate was safe and sound as well. Not currently within his reach, but still safe which was all that mattered. Well, hopefully. If what she had said was right, they were on their way to D'Qar as well. 

Thinking of her, Poe went back to the sleeping quarters where Sora was still resting. The pilot took a moment to admire her. Asleep and relaxed, she looked at peace, a foreign look on her. It suited her, he noted. There was a gentle rose-coloured shine on her cheeks, as if her body regained all of the energy life on Jakku had stolen from her in the last two years at once. Her braid had become partly undone, long strands of black hair framing her face. 

She was beautiful, he had already noticed that the moment his eyes had opened back on Jakku. Her delicate face had been the first thing he had looked at, framed by the glazing sun behind her. It had made her look almost otherworldly, the smooth, blemish free skin and the rosy lips a stark contrast against the ruth planet. 

Poe wasn't lying when he had told her the Resistance needed people like her. In fact, she would be a perfect addition, with her past and her abilities. However, a tiny (okay, a big), selfish part of his brain wanted her to stay just so he could get to know her better. He liked talking to her, liked their small banter. She was easy to be around and it felt as if he had known her far longer than just a day. 

Before he could feel like a creep, Poe stepped closer to the bed to put his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake. "Sora, wake up. We've made it."

She stirred awake slowly, her eyes taking a moment to get used to the light again. Even though her appearance was clearly screaming 'I just woke up, give me a moment', she seemed wide awake. "I feel like a whole new being," she said, hopping out of bed to stretch her arms and legs. Her bones protested with a couple of popping noises. "You know what would be perfect now? A shower and fresh clothes."

Poe watched her with a smile, the skin under his eyes creasing slightly. Truthfully, he couldn't wait to do the same. "Your wish is my command, princess. I'll make sure that's the first thing you get as soon as we're at the base."

"Please tell me you have running water down there."

The pilot looked almost offended. "Of course. And guess what, it's hot water."

At the thought of the first hot shower she would have in two years, Sora grinned widely. "I could kiss you right now, Poe."

For a second, his eyes widened and he inhaled sharply, lips pulling into a grin. Then he saw the look on her face and his shoulders sacked instantly, the corners of his mouth lowering again. "You're joking, aren't you?"

"Obviously."

*****

D'Qar was a beautiful planet. Instead of beige and grey, everywhere she looked she saw nothing but green as the jungle drew closer, spreading all around them. They flew over waterfalls and lush fields of flowers. Sora struggled to take it all in. The sun was slowly setting, turning the sky into a beautiful canvas of  various colors. Compared to the lackluster scenery of Jakku, this was sensory overload. The only planet she had visited that was even more beautiful was Naboo. 

"It's stunning, isn't it?" Poe's attention was focused on safely landing the ship, yet he couldn't resist letting his eyes wander over to her every now and then. She looked so excited and for a brief moment, he thought that maybe his not so successful mission had gone way better than he had thought. Would she have ever left Jakku if it hadn't been for BeeBee-Ate and him? He didn't know her well-enough to guess the answer.

"They're probably on high alert. The ship's communication system is broken, so I can't inform them it's me. It's better to let them see me first, then they'll know you're not a threat." 

Sora agreed without a complaint. "Sure." 

She wondered whether Rey had already arrived before them. What if she was already on her way back to Jakku? What if something had happened to her?

The Starfighter began its descend onto one of the landing platforms. Sora could see different X-Wings and hangers lined up along a long runway, tucked away underneath the greenery. Grass and bushes covered everything, effectively hiding them from curious eyes on the horizon. Smaller and bigger Satellites were scattered on the grass, crates of various sizes were tugged into every corner. 

Quite a few people were running around, some wearing bright orange pilot suits. And every single one of them was gazing at their spacecraft, weapons ready to be fired, making Sora feel a bit uncomfortable. 

"Feels good to be back," Poe admitted happily, his smile so bright it almost blinded her. 

Their landing was incredibly soft, further proof of his outstanding flying abilities. The impact was nothing but a gentle tap against her feet. Poe was out of his chair before she could even blink, the ramp of the ship already lowering as she joined his side.

Sora knew she looked like a mess. Her braid wasn't really a braid anymore with multiple strands of hair now framing her face. The clothes she wore were dirty and wrinkled and probably reeked of sweat. Well, at least it would show these people that she had gone through some trouble to bring their beloved pilot back to them. But she really wanted that shower as soon as possible. 

"Guys, don't shot! It's me," Poe announced, jogging down the ramp and jumping down the last bit. The Resistance members lowered their guns, immediately breaking into a cheer as they swarmed around the pilot. Hugs and friendly pats on the back were exchanged. 

It was obvious the pilot was very well liked and respected. No one had even noticed her leaving the ship. Everyone was too preoccupied with Poe, wanting to hear his story. She used the time to let her gaze wander over the base. She ship's hanger seemed to be the only part above ground. Everything else was located underground where it was less likely to be detected, she supposed. 

"And who might you be, my dear?" 

The question brought her out of her daze and her eyes snapped to where it had come from. An elderly woman was smiling at her, grey hair braided and tied in a circle on top of her head. She wore a loose beige bodysuit, fastened with a golden belt underneath her chest and a burgundy colored vest on top. 

"You must be general Leia Organa," Sora thought out loud, realizing it too late. 

But Leia only laughed softly. "Leia is just fine." She took one look towards Poe who was still busy catching up with his friends and colleagues, then she pointed her hand towards the path leading away from the hangar.  "Would you mind taking a walk with me?" 

Sora knew if there was one person she could trust here, apart from Poe, it was Leia. "Of course not." Side by side, they walked away from the mass of people, leaving the loud chatter behind. "I'm Sora Park, by the way." 

"Thank you for bringing our best pilot back, Sora. We really appreciate it." Leia replied and led her through one of the hangers. A few people stared at the smuggler in curiosity, some even nodded at her in greetings. No one seemed to view her as a threat, causing her body and mind to relax. "May I ask, how did you meet him?"

"I found him in the desert on Jakku. Well, actually I found his droid first"

"And yet Beebee-Ate is not with you?" Leia send her a questioning look but if there was any judgement or disappointment towards her, it was well hidden.

Sora shook her head, her eyes taking in as much as they could. "No, but he is with a friend who I'm sure will bring him back safely as well."

"Very well. If Poe trusts you, then I trust you as well," the general responded, leading her down a staircase. "You should be aware now that you know the location of our base, I expect you to keep it a secret. It is our top priority that the First Order stays in the dark, for the safety of our people and the whole operation."

"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of telling the First Order anything. In fact, I plan on staying out of their radar for as long as I can." Sora huffed, remembering the incident on Atrisia two years ago. 

Leia could see right through her, a necessary ability required by her position as the leader of the Resistance. Even if she did trust the young woman, she still had to make sure the wasn't a danger to the Resistance in any way. "I suppose you have history with them?"

The smuggler winced, grimacing when the past events played out inside her head like a movie. "You could say that. I was a smuggler. Freed one of their prisoners during a job, a former stormtrooper who was about to be executed. Guess they didn't like that. Oh, and stabbing general Hux probably didn't help either."

Leia's loud laughter startled both her and the workers they walked past. Sora didn't know where exactly they were going but they were somewhere underground. According to the signs on the wall, they had already passed a cafeteria, a kitchen,  a conference and a security room. "Oh Maker, how did you manage to get out of that alive?"

"Well, I almost didn't. And they actually think I'm dead. But a stormtrooper saved me and brought me to Jakku. I have no idea who it was but I own them my life. It was Rey who then found me. She's the one who's with BeeBee-Ate."

Leia hummed, processing the information. "It's only further proof that so much more people are willing to stand up against the First Order than they think, even their supposed own members. Most people only need a small push in the right direction to stand up for what they truly think is right."

They stopped in front of one of the doors in the sleeping quarters. Leia entered a code and the door slid open, revealing a small room with a queen sized bed, a tiny desk and a wardrobe. There was another door inside which likely led to the refresher. 

"This is yours for however long you like, Sora. You are welcome to stay here. The Resistance could use your help."

"You know, Poe said the same."

A strange glint flashed through Leia's eyes, the corners of her mouth turning up into a knowing smile. "Did he now? Interesting. You can freshen up a bit in here. You look like you need it, dear. In the meantime, I will look for some suitable clothes for you and have them brought to you whilst I speak with Poe."

Sora was thankful for the kindness Leia was showing her. After all, she was just a stranger and had come barging into the Resistance, yet she was welcomed with open arms. And seeing as Rey wasn't here yet, she would gladly take the offer. "Thank you for everything, General."

"No, I am the one who has to thank you, Sora," Leia smiled kindly and walked towards the door. "I'll see you later." The door shut behind her with a soft hiss. 

Taking a deep breath, Sora closed her eyes for a whole minute. So much had changed over the course of the last two days. It was almost like her life was once again totally turned around. And this time, she couldn't help but admit that she liked it. It was a good change. 

When she stripped herself off her clothes, a tiny pile of sand gathered on the ground. That was definitely something she wouldn't miss as long as she stayed here. After only having seen sand for two years, she was sick of it.

Sora sighed happily as the first drops of warm water hit her head. She took her time in the shower, making sure her hair and skin felt and smelt as good as new. Her muscles were soothed entirely, any small aches she previously had were gone. 

Stepping out of a shower, she wrapped one of the surprisingly fluffy towels around her body and used another one to pat her long hair so it wouldn't drip any water. Once she was done, she ran a hand over the mirror above the sink to get rid of the condensed water. 

The unusual natural blush on her cheeks surprised her greatly. Fingers gently brushing against them, she took a deep breath. Sora felt good. She felt strangely calm and...hopeful. And she couldn't explain why. It was probably best to simply enjoy it. Who knew how long this feeling would last. 

A knock on the door caused her to flinch out of her trance. "Coming," she said, voice loud enough to be heard through the walls. Barefoot, she tip toed to the entrance and opened it. In front of her stood a golden protocol droid who was taller than her. In his hands, he was holding a stack of clothes.

"Hello Miss Park, my name is See-Threepio. General Organa send me to-" The droid cut himself off and promptly turned around. "Oh my, she didn't mention you would be naked. I'm terribly sorry for intruding. I can assure you, I was programmed for etiquette and won't look at you until you're decent."

Sora laughed at the droid's antics. "It's okay, I'm not naked." The towel was indeed a little short but it covered all of the essentials, reaching to the middle of her thighs. "I'm guessing those clothes are for me?" 

The droid nodded but refused to look at her. "You're right. General Organa selected them herself. She also told me to wait for you to get dressed and escort you to the cafeteria. I will shut myself down so you can take these clothes from me. I ask you to power me up again once you are ready to go."

Before she could speak up, See-Threepio had already put himself in energy saving mode. Sora stared at the droid, blinking rapidly. Then, she shook her head and quickly grabbed the stacked clothes, laughing quietly.

The protocol droid was not left alone for long. Only seconds after the door had closed behind Sora, Poe walked around the corner. At the sight of a shut-down See-Threepio, his brows creased in confusion. "What the heck," he mumbled to himself, gazing at the silent droid. Whilst it was a nice change to not hear him talk, the pilot was curious, so he powered him back on.

The yellow glow returned to the droid's eyes as he came back to life. And instantly started talking. "Miss Park, I must apologize again. I-...Oh, it's you Master Dameron. I'm terribly sorry but I'm waiting for Miss Park. I was told to escort her to the cafeteria and then-"

"No need, I'll do it," Poe waved him off impatiently. "But why were you shut down?"

See-Threepio was just about to reply when Sora stepped out of her room, eying both the droid and the pilot with a big question mark on her face. "Oh Miss Park, thankfully you're dressed this time. Don't worry, I'll make sure to erase the picture from my memory. Commander Dameron will take over my assignment. I must leave. Should we meet each other again, please make sure to not open the door naked."

"I was not naked," Sora emphasized but the droid was already gone. Embarrassed, she felt warmth spreading across her cheeks. See-Threepio definitely talked too much. And he needed a filter. 

Poe crossed his arms on his chest, grinning teasingly at her, one eyebrow raised. "Naked, huh?" 

The pilot couldn't resist letting his gaze travel across her body. Freshly showered, her damp hair flowed down to just over her chest in gentle waves. Leia had given her a pair of tight, black trousers, a white top and a dark blue-grayish leather jacket. The outfit suited her incredibly well, hugging her body in just the right places. Poe tried to ignore the hint of jealousy he felt towards the protocol droid who had apparently seen her in much less. 

A sigh of annoyance left Sora's mouth. "I was wearing a towel. Not my fault he's so uptight."

Poe laughed. "I think you traumatized him a bit."

"Agreed. He'll probably never talk to me again."

"Hah, trust me, that's impossible. That droid never misses an opportunity to talk."

"Guess I just have to show him more skin then."

Once again, laughter escaped Poe's mouth, trembling through his whole body. "Go ahead, princess. I like seeing him so flustered. And quiet." 

He had showered as well, his curls still dripping water. His beige trousers and white button up shirt were clean, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. There were no traces of blood left on him but he had put a small plaster over the cut on his temple. 

Suddenly, the pilot closed the distance between them and threw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. "Come on, I'm starving. Bet you haven't eaten anything good in years. The Resistance has some awesome chefs. You need to try those jogan-fruit cookies. Trust me, you'll get addicted." 

At first, Sora's body stiffened at the sudden contact. But Poe's body felt warm and inviting. Besides, it was a friendly gesture and she found herself wanting to enjoy it. So she relaxed against him and let the pilot lead her through the underground base. The smuggler made sure to remember the turns they had made in order to find her way back on her own. 

Upon entering the cafeteria through a grand archway, the lack of people sitting at the various tables didn't surprise her. After all, it was already late in the evening and most people were likely about to retire for the night. Quiet chatter could be heard from the tables they walked past, but no one paid them any attention. 

"Thank the Maker, there are still leftovers," Poe mumbled, pulling her towards the small buffet. A few friendly faces greeted them before vanishing into the kitchen behind it again, cleaning up for the day. Releasing the hold he had on her, the pilot grabbed them both a plate. "Take whatever you want. And don't forget those cookies."

She didn't. When the two of them sat down facing each other at one of the corner tables, each plate was overflowing with all kinds of delicious fruits, vegetables, meat and pastries. Sora ate slowly, making sure to savor her first taste of real meal in years. 

They ate in comfortable silence until she finally bit into the jogan-fruit cookie and moaned softly. "Kriff, you weren't lying. This is the best desert I've ever had."

Munching on his own cookie, Poe winked at her. "Don't tell anyone but there's a secret stash of 'em in the kitchen. It's in the cabinet under the sink. In case you ever need a midnight snack." 

"Sharing highly confidential secrets with me already?" She teasingly raised a brow, swallowing the last crumbs of cookie. "I'm flattered and will take it with me to the grave."

"You better." Poe put his forearms on the table and leaned closer to her, clasping his hands together. "You don't want to deal with Kalara's wrath. That kitchen is her kingdom and those cookies she makes are her most prized possession." 

"Sounds like you've experienced her anger before," Sora replied, chuckling softly. 

The pilot winced. "Let's just say getting spanked with a wooden spoon hurts a lot more than you'd expect."

Sora burst into laughter, imaging the scene inside her head. "I'd pay thousands to see that."

"By the way, that better stay between us as well. I'd never hear the end of it if my squadron members found out." It was an empty threat and Poe was smiling at her, seemingly content with being the reason behind her laugh. 

"Can't promise anything," she said, letting her gaze wander around the cafeteria. Everyone had left the room, the clattering of plates and pots from the kitchen the only remaining hint at another presence. 

Noticing how late it was as well, Poe pushed his chair back, looking down at her as he took both empty plates in his hands. "Think it's time to go. Do you know the way back to your room? I need to fill out some reports."

Sora nodded. "Sure. See you tomorrow?" The question filled with undeniable hope was out before she could stop it. She could only hope Poe interpreted it as a casual way to say good night.

"As if you'd get rid of me now, princess," the pilot scoffed and winked at her one last time, disposing of the dirty plates before he left the cafeteria.

After having slept throughout their whole hyperspace journey, the smuggler wasn't ready to lay in bed again just yet. She knew her sleep rhythm would be all over the place but there was so much to see on D'Qar. So much that wasn't sand. A little exploring wouldn't hurt. 

Which is why instead of retracing their steps, Sora found her way upstairs again. Except for a few select workers, likely acting as guards to ensure no enemies were near, the hangars and landing platforms were empty. The air had become rather chilly and she was thankful for the jacket Leia had provided her with.

Just like on Jakku, the nights on D'Qar were mostly silent. But where the desert planet lacked wildlife, D'Qar had plenty to offer. Insects she had never seen before were chirping somewhere in the jungle around her, plants she couldn't name were gently rustling in the wind. The lush greenery felt soft against her skin as she let her hands brush against it. Up high above her, one of the two moons shone fully, reflecting enough light to show her a path through the vegetation. 

Sora made sure not to wander off too far. She had no idea whether there were any dangerous predators on this planet. Moreover, she would have to navigate her way back later. 

After what she guessed must have been around half an hour, a beautiful sight welcomed her. Crystal clear water rushed down from a cliff to her right, forming a small lake at the bottom and spreading out into a narrow river that disappeared somewhere in the thick greenery. Tiny glowing orbs were slowly floating through the air, a species of animals she couldn't name. 

Sora gasped softly at the sheer beauty of nature presented to her. Yet, as her body sunk onto the soft ground and her fingers touched the wet surface in front of her, she suddenly found herself overwhelmed with all of the feelings she had pushed back for so long.

Everything felt so unreal, like a fever dream. That fateful day on Atrisia, her life had ended. The life she had known for 24 years had been erased and the only person left alive she had loved like a brother had to watch her die. For two years, she had managed to survive on Jakku. But surviving wasn't living. 

And now. Now she felt like she could truly begin to hope again. Hope to find a way back to her old life. Hope to experience life again. 

Rey would understand. Sora was sure of it. Heck, she'd probably encourage the smuggler to stay here or take the spaceship Poe and her had stolen to find Elijah. Even though the latter seemed entirely impossible, considering she had no idea where to even start. Elijah and her had lived an almost anonymous life. Sure, she could ask some of their old contacts whether they had seen him again, but the crew of the Phoenix had never told anyone of their whereabouts or plans. Not that they ever had any. Back then, their decision on which planet to look for a job next had been totally random. 

Maybe there was a chance the Resistance could help her. Surely, they had contacts all across the galaxy. Perhaps someone had come across her partner in crime. She supposed she shouldn't even try looking for Revan and Nyra. With the former being a wanted ex-stormtrooper, they had to have gone into total hiding. 

For Elijah's sake, shouldn't she at least try to find him? She was sure that if he knew she was alive, he would do the same for her. However, accompanying Rey back to Jakku would mean she'd loose her chance at seeing him again. She didn't want to leave her friend alone on that sad planet but she couldn't force her to leave her home behind either. 

Deep in thoughts, Sora raised her arm, slowly holding out her hand and watching as one of the glowing orbs landed on her palm. Tiny pairs of wings tickled against her pale skin but the animal was shy and flew off again before she could even blink. 

Rey would understand. 

And the decision had been made. 

Sora spent the walk back to the base feeling lighter than before. The heavy weight on her shoulders she had been unaware of until today had been lifted, leaving her with a clear consciousness. 

When the smuggler stepped out of the jungle and onto the concrete of the landing platforms, she noticed a silhouette next to a black X-Wing. 

Poe was leaning against one of its wings, arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows drawn together in thought. 

He couldn't shake off his concern for BeeBee-Ate and the vital information he was currently carrying around somewhere in the galaxy. What if the First Order had already caught his droid? 

All the pilot really wanted to do was jump into his X-Wings and search for the droid himself. The knowledge that he had no idea where to start looking was what kept him on the ground. Besides, Poe knew BeeBee-Ate was smart enough to make it back to the base on his own. Or with the help of Sora's friend Rey. He just had to have hope. Wasn't that was Leia always told them?

The sounds of nearby footsteps caused him to abandon his train of thoughts. When the person stepped closer and he was able to recognize her, he pushed his body back to its full height, moving to step in front of her. "Not that I am not happy to see you again, but aren't you supposed to be in your room?" 

He watched as she rolled her eyes, the tiny smile on her face betraying her. "And aren't you supposed to write reports?" Her hair had dried fully and the black waves cascading down her back looked so soft he barely managed to restrain himself from reaching out to touch them. 

Instead, Poe simply stepped even closer, content when she didn't move back. "Took me ten minutes to finish them. So where have you been this whole time? It's already way past midnight." He hoped he didn't sound too worried.

Sora hadn't realized she'd spent that much time by the waterfall. "I just needed to clear my head. Can't do that trapped under ground. And it's beautiful out there." 

That, the pilot could understand very well. Except when he needed to clear his mind, he usually jumped into his X-Wing and fly around. He'd always felt more confident up in the stars. "At least take a weapon with you next time. D'Qar has some wildlife you don't want to meet alone, especially at night." He had noticed the lack of blaster on her belt. Whilst there were no other intelligent lifeforms on this planet, the jungle was a refugee for some pretty big and venomous predators. Better to be safe than sorry.

"Will do. Is that your X-Wing?" 

Poe nodded proudly. "Black One is a beauty, isn't she?"

"The name's a bit uncreative but yeah, she looks awesome." 

"I'm just gonna pretend I didn't hear that." Poe gave his spacecraft one last longing stare, looking at BeeBee-Ate's empty spot behind the cockpit. Then, he turned his gaze towards the woman who had caught his interest. "Let me walk you back to your room."

"Why not," was Sora's only response as they walked side by side.

Although she didn't look tired, Poe was sure she could use some more hours of sleep. He knew that there was more to her story than she had told him. Whatever had happened prior to her miraculously stranding on Jakku had obviously had a big impact on her life. 

But he could also see that the last couple of hours had awakened something inside her that had previously been dormant. He recognized that look of determination in her eyes. 

When they stopped in front of her door, Poe watched her putting in the numbers to open it. She had already stepped into her room when he turned back towards him, sending him a gentle smile he happily returned. "Good night, Poe."

"Good night, Sora." 

*****

At sunrise, she found herself strolling through the hangars. Her belly was still filled with everything she had eaten the evening before, so she decided to skip breakfast. The members of the Resistance were starting their work day one after another, slowly filling up the base. She saw mechanics inspecting and repairing the X-Wings, their pilots not far away from the action either. Some people were jogging rummaging through crates, sorting supplies into storage rooms. Everyone had a role here and each of them mattered, that much was obvious. In a rebellion, working together was essential to the cause. 

"No, no. I told you I'm not setting a single foot on Tatooine again. Ever. You'd have to sedate me and drag my body there yourself."

"Oh, that can be arranged."

"And who would fly the ship? Newsflash, you're the worst pilot in the galaxy and you know it. You'd crash before you can even leave the planet."

"At least I'd no longer have to listen to you then."

"Just a little reminder: You literally paid to get me back."

"And I've regretted it every single day so far!"

Sora's heartbeat stopped before it continued to race inside her chest, catapulting her pulse into unhealthy dimensions. She couldn't believe her eyes. Couldn't believe that what she was seeing, that what she was hearing was real. 

Because there, in the middle of the hangar, were the last people she had expected to meet on this planet. Maybe she was still dreaming? Surely, such a crazy coincidence couldn't exist. 

"Revan? Nyra?" Her voice was weak. She hadn't meant to say it out loud. For the first time in her life, Sora was starstruck. 

The man she had first met in a prison cell on Atrisia two years ago turned his head instantly, a pair of blue eyes meeting her wide, brown ones. The beautiful woman next to him did the same, her brown locks whipping around her head at her fast motion. 

Similar to her reaction, Revan looked like he had seen a ghost. Lips parted in disbelief, he blinked nonstop as if making sure she wouldn't disappear at some point and prove his theory. "Nyra, please tell me you see her as well."

Much more composed than both of them, Nyra grinned widely, jabbing her elbow into his side. "I told you she wasn't dead. You owe me five thousand credits."

That managed to pull both Revan and Sora out of their trance. In an instant, she was pulled into a brief hug. Strong, muscled arms wrapped around her middle, squeezing her against his chest. He kept her at arms length when he let her go again, letting his eyes roam over her body. "I don't understand...how? How are you here?"

"Long story. One I'd rather not tell right now and not here." Too many curious eyes were watching the trio's exchange. The people around them made sure to act nonchalant but Sora knew they were all listening, even if it was just out of instinct. 

"You're right. C'mon, let's find a quiet place. There's so much we need to catch up on."

*****

"So, let me get this right. You're here because a stormtrooper saved your life and dumped you on Jakku, only to be picked up by the best pilot of the Resistance two years later."

"Well, it was me who picked him up actually."

"Kriff Sora, if we had known you had survived, we would have searched for you," Revan said, leaning back in his chair. "After what you've done for me, I owe you one."

They had retreated into what Nyra had called the smuggler's den which usually functioned as their personal meeting room. Supply boxes were piled up by the walls, a round table with four chairs occupying the rest of the tiny room. Thankfully, being one of the very few rooms above ground, the air was fresh and clean inside. 

"It's okay," Sora waved him off. "Even I was convinced I was dead. I don't blame you and you owe me nothing. I willingly took the risk when I decided to get you out of there despite the problematic situation."

Nyra shook her head and leaned forward to lay her hand atop of Sora's, the surface of the table cold against their skin. "I should have told you about who Revan was. Should have made you aware of the First Orders role in it. If anything, it was my fault."

The smuggler didn't like that they were obviously riddled with guilt. Truly, if there was one party to blame, it was definitely the First Order. Especially general Hux. Maker, she despised that guy. "No, it wasn't," Sora emphasized. Sighing, she freed her hand and folded her arms across her chest. "Let's just keep it in the past. I'm here now, mostly fine, and that's enough."

"If that's what you want, okay." Shrugging his shoulders, Revan stretched out his arm behind Nyra, putting it atop the back of her chair. The beautiful woman barely acknowledged it with a role of her eyes.

Nodding in confirmation, the young woman opted to change the topic. "So, you two are smugglers for the Resistance now?"

"Yeah. The Resistance was pretty much the only place we could go to and they were looking for people to smuggle resources, spare parts for the fleet and other stuff. Leia trusted me, despite my past."

It was time for the question she dreaded to ask. Swallowing, Sora gathered all of her courage and tried to suppress her fear of the possible answer. "So...what happened to Elijah?"

Revan grimaced, a distant look of sorrow etched onto his face. "After he dropped me off on Bardotta, he gave me your ship and disappeared. Didn't tell me where he wanted to go and didn't even take the reward for saving me. I haven't heard from him ever since. I'm sorry, Sora."

Not the answer she wanted to hear and certainly not the one she was expecting. "He gave you the Phoenix? Just like that?" Kriff, if he didn't have a spacecraft, where did he go and how did he manage to leave the planet with no credits?

It was Nyra who answered. "He said there were too many memories attached to it. He practically threw the remote controls at us."

That actually sounded quite like Elijah. He'd always had a hard time acknowledging the past, opting to run away from it rather than embrace it. All of this information had only pushed her further away from finding him. Where could she ever start looking for him?

Stopping herself from letting her thoughts go further down this sad, dark path, she decided to focus on the positive. "So the Phoenix is on D'Qar?"

Lips pulled into a grin, Revan slapped his thigh and stood up. "You wanna see her? She's still yours, captain."

Sora's mood brightened considerably the moment her gaze laid upon her beloved spaceship, tucked away into a hangar she hadn't visited yet. The familiar silver and red modified Ghtroc 720 freighter with its turtle like shape beckoned her to come closer. Revan had given her the remote control wristband and with a press of a tiny button, the ramp lowered itself slowly.

Nyra and Revan kept quiet as she investigated the interior. Everything had been left untouched, the only indication anyone other than her and Elijah had ever been on the ship was the fact that the third bedroom had been used, clothes that weren't hers chaotically thrown on the bed. 

Sora instantly felt at home again.

When she sunk into the pilot's seat and ran her finger over the controls, Nyra made herself comfortable in the only other seat next to her which was meant for the co-pilot. She pointedly ignored the offended look Revan send her when she stole his spot. "What do you say, you wanna be our captain? Because we need a leader and that guy here is basically useless in that department." 

How could she decline now that the Phoenix was back in her possession? In addition, it would offer her a good opportunity to search for Elijah during their missions. Smiling to herself, she took one last deep breath before she announced her decision. "I guess we will make a good crew, won't we?" 

"Thank the Maker, I missed a smart, female companion." Nyra clapped her hands in anticipation, sending Revan a halfhearted glare.

"Keep denying that you love my presence, sweetheart," Revan replied, the corners of his mouth pulled into a smug grin. 

"Whatever." Was that a blush on her tan skin?

Eyes traveling between the bickering duo, Sora raised her brows. She smiled teasingly and tilted her head to lock eyes with Revan, remembering their talk in the forest of Atrisia. "It's complicated, right?

"See, now you get what I meant."

*****

"I told you we would go to Tatooine, whether you like it or not," Nyra cheered triumphly as soon they had left the conference room. 

Leia had been delighted when Sora had told her she accepted her offer to stay under the condition that she would form a team with Nyra and Revan. The general had agreed without hesitation, hugging the younger woman whilst whispering something in her ear. "I know I won't be the only one happy about your decision."

Albeit confused, Sora wrote it off as a hint towards the Resistance gaining a new member which would surely make everyone on D'Qar happy. After all, they needed as many people as they could find.

The general had also given them the green light for their new mission on Tatooine, much to Revan's disdain. They were to leave today.

"Why does everyone want to go to that dumpster of a planet?" He groaned, one hand running over his face in pure annoyance. "Sora, help me out here. There's nothing there but heat, crime, sand, even more sand and Jawas. Maker, I hate Jawas." He was full out whining like a toddler now, so unlike his age and former profession. 

Sora had to agree with him. Tatooine was definitely at the bottom of planets she had liked during their travels. Nothing good ever happened there and the heat was almost unbearable, thanks to the two suns the planet orbited around. "Hate to discourage you even more but for what we're looking for, we will need to trade with the Jawas."

"This mission is going to be a pain in my ass, I just know it."

"Quit acting like a child," Nyra scolded him, hitting his arm. "Let's get ready for take-off. The faster we leave, the earlier we can get back."

"You're right, let's get this over and done with asap." Squeezing his body between the two women, he wrapped one arm around Nyra's shoulders and his other around Sora's, pulling them both against him. Although the former tried to protest at first, he wouldn't let her go, ignoring her ramming her elbow against his ribs. Sora only smiled, content with what this morning had revealed and caused.

They received quite some stares from their peers. The sight must have been unusual, especially because no one knew about the past the trio shared, apart from Leia of course. And here they were, acting as if they were best friends when to anyone else, the duo had just met the newest member of the Resistance an hour ago.

Handing her a blaster and a new comlink which Sora quickly fastened around her wrist, Nyra looked her up and down. "Looking good, hotshot. Might want to leave that jacket here though. Leather will make you sweat to death on Tatooine."

"I know." Slipping out of the clothing item, she carefully draped it over some of the crates and devices belonging to the team. Nyra followed her suit. No one would steal the clothes anyways. 

"C'mon ladies, we don't have all day." Sticking his head out of the ship, Revan beckoned them inside. The ramp closed behind the trio as they made their way to the cockpit. "I call shotgun." He was in the copilot's seat before Nyra could protest. 

Instead, she only rolled her eyes, wordlessly choosing the seat behind the two of them. Fingers fumbling with the controls, Sora switched on the engine and activated all necessary systems. No words could describe how good it felt to be in control of the Phoenix again. She found herself slipping into the role she grew up with easily. 

"Phoenix to control centre, ready for take-off. Waiting for permission." Revan's voice was serious now, all switched into professional mode. 

"Control Centre to Phoenix. Permission granted. Communications will be disabled until you re-enter D'Qar's atmosphere."

"Copy that. Oh, and safe some supper for us for when we get back." The communication line went dead.

The Phoenix hovered above ground, the Resistance's workers pausing their duty to clear the hangar. Sora carefully maneuvered the ship onto the landing platforms before pulling it up into the air. Clouds drawing closer around them, Sora switched on the thrusters and gradually increased the speed of the spacecraft. 

"Preparing to jump into hyperspace. If all goes well, we'll be back somewhen after midnight," Revan announced. Tatooine was relatively close to D'Qar, so it would only take them a couple of hours to reach it. "That is if the Jawas will cooperate. If they don't, I'm just saying I wouldn't mind stealing from them."

Sora tilted her head, giving him a look that clearly stated you're stupid. "Stealing from Jawas is basically impossible. They're guarding their goods like hawks and unless we kill all of them we'd never make it. Which we won't because they aren't our enemies by the way."

"Alright, alright." Raising his hands in surrender, the defector actually pouted. "We could still knock them out though, right?"

[darkhymns-fic]

I follow you like a star, so I can breathe you into my lungs

Colette lies to him once more. Lloyd can't let go.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: T Word Count: 1828 Mirror Link: AO3

--

Once again, Colette had lied to him.

With the chaos of all that had happened at the Iselia Ranch, it had been hard for Lloyd to just—settle. To just linger and pore over the storm that coiled inside his chest and made it ache whenever he thought of Colette. The weight of her body in his arms. How her hair cascaded to the ground. How her voice rose so high that it cracked, that it cowered, that it begged him to get away.

Rejection. Desperate, vicious rejection. It made his throat close, even as he could barely hold her for long, another pair of hands taking her away.

She doesn’t believe me, he thought.

He couldn’t bring himself to care how he might have looked to the others once he arrived home, with how quick he rushed up the wooden stairs. Even so, there was the acrid smell of Dirk working the forge, merging with the scent of pollen that blew in through the open windows. Lloyd climbed those same stairs the same way he had done for over a decade, but with Colette on his mind, remembering the glimpse of on his terrace.

The same way she had stood there on that night, that night she had also lied to him. Keeping secrets. Keeping him in the dark.

His boots stomped across the familiar, creaking bedroom floor. “Colette—”

And then the balcony doors shut. Sunlight dimmed, solely coming in from his window.

“Sorry,” was her first word to him. “The light makes it too easy to see.”

She was bright in the dark, her white overcoat drawing his eyes to her instantly—and a new dress, her old one already singed, probably thrown away. Yet her shoulders were hunched. A small thing that tried to delve further into the fabric, until she would be swallowed, until she would disappear, until there was nothing left.

“Let me look,” he said.

Colette raised her head, a fraction or so. Lloyd feared that she would face him with dread, or terror, as if he was like the rest of the world. But she kept her eyes closed as she turned, hands curled over the fabric of her overcoat. It wrinkled the blue threads woven into it. How careful she usually was, he remembered. The way Colette would hang the overcoat of her dress on a rack in her room, or fold it in an even square when they traveled. Instead, she wrenched it free over her head, throwing it to the side.

And the moment she did, she froze. Colette wrapped an arm around herself. “No,” she said. “I don’t want you to see.”

She doesn’t believe me.

“Colette, please,” he urged. Still, she shook her head, moving to a corner of his room. “Isn’t…isn’t that why you came up here?”

A pause. He heard something shake in her throat. “I changed my mind. I don’t want you to see me.”

“I already saw it!” he shouted. A wince. But the storm inside him hurt, hurt more than it ever did before, even more than when he found out about her waning humanity. “You really think I’d hate you over something like this?”

Colette bit her lip, staying within the corner. There was guilt in every motion of her, from her fingers clasping at the fringes of her dress to her bowed head.

It was like a cage; this fear, this guilt, all this pain. Lloyd felt helpless against it. He hadn’t turned away when it had been torn from her shoulder, the light refracting over a crystal surface. Yet still, she wouldn’t let him.

The storm again, it pulled him to her. It made him stretch out his hands, reaching for her own.

Colette gasped. Her touch was warm, her fingers grasping his in reflex. She could still feel him.

“Don’t you remember what I said before?” His voice shook, and his eyes felt hot. Only holding onto her hand kept him steady. “Just how many times do I have to keep saying it to you?”

“No, Lloyd. I can’t…I really can’t…”

“Colette! Please trust me!” His other hand placed itself on the wall, nails scraping the wood. “I can’t lose you again!”

“No! I just don’t want you to look!” It was almost, but not quite, how she had shouted before. Desperate and alone. “I messed up so much, and I don’t want you…to know…”

Quiet again. The walls rang from their voices, absorbed it, swallowed it. Feelings that were kept in the dark.

Lloyd breathed hard. He was making this worse. But how much did he have to knock at this wall around her to just tell him what was hurting her?

I’m hurting her, he realized.

What use was there in helping when he only made mistakes until even Colette could barely stand to look at him? Yet it didn’t make him let go of her. It didn’t make him step back. It seemed like the moment he’d turn around, she would run away, to hide, to waste away, to never be more than a memory again.

“I just want…you to tell me…” he whispered. Dirk had always said he got overheated too quickly, that he wore what he felt right on his sleeves. But he couldn’t be like Kratos, who held everything back, and he couldn’t be like Raine, who looked through all with a pragmatic lens. He could only feel everything like it was fire on his skin, that it would burst if he didn’t let the world know. If he didn’t let Colette know.

A shift of movement. Colette reached up with her free hand to her opposite shoulder—then paused.

“Colette?” he asked, and maybe he shouldn’t have. Already, he could feel her wanting to shrink and burrow underneath the earth. But with a held breath, she moved the dress past her shoulder, to reveal an array of bluish-green crystal. Somehow, even in the dark, it had its own barely visible light—like the Exspheres within the mines, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“There…It’s…what it is.” Colette’s voice struggled. He could hear the unspoken words of disgusting and hideous. It lingered at her throat, and it struck him with such stark self-hatred that he nearly didn’t know what to do.

Until she also said, “I’m sorry.”

This cage of fear, and guilt, and pain, through years of upbringing, through centuries of manipulation, through everything. He wanted to break it now more than ever.

But it did nothing to be angry.

Lloyd leaned close to her, bringing their clasped hands to lean against the wall, gently so. There was a hitch in her breath, though she didn’t move away. His head lowered down to her neck, to where the sea of crystal stretched from her shoulder, then down to her arm. It reminded him of the lake nearby, with the fireflies dancing across the water, with the moonlight reflecting off its surface.

“I wish you showed me before,” he said. He felt tired, feeling now the weight Colette had been carrying since the very beginning. “You always hide everything from me.”

Her hand gripped his tighter. “I didn’t even know where to begin.”

“Just with this.” His hand that had been clutching the wall shifted, moved to press against her cheek, eyes still riveted to her shoulder. “That’s all, Colette. That’s all you had to do.”

“It just…never seemed like I…” Colette shook, leaning into his touch, exposing more of her shoulder. She didn’t seem aware of it. “Lloyd, I wanted to…I really wanted to. It would hurt, and when I thought about telling you, it would hurt even more…”

All he ever did was hurt her.

Yet, knowing that, it didn’t stop him from kissing her shoulder. His lips pressed over the crystal, and maybe just then, he heard a sharp gasp of pain. More than just sensitive. It was like her own nerves were on fire, igniting at a touch of his, the parasite within punishing her for daring to feel something else.

He pulled away, but she grasped his arm to keep him close. “Don’t stop,” she begged him again. “I want to feel you.”

A pause, his breath dancing over her neck. “Doesn’t it hurt you?”

“Yes,” she said immediately—but didn’t let him go.

There was always good reason to keep her secrets from him. It was shown in the way he kissed her over the crystal once more, her body flinching from the contact. He still cradled her cheek, fingers sifting through her hair, his lips pressed firmer against her. It was different. It wasn’t like touching glass or feeling the curves of a gemstone. It hurt him too then, a spark from her crystallized skin that pricked his nerves.

He couldn’t stop himself. It was addicting. Electrifying. She breathed faster the harder he kissed.

“Colette,” he mumbled against her skin, staying close, pressing his body against hers. “Colette,” he begged, kissing from her hard skin to the softness of her neck, the pain not stopping, not completely. “Colette,” he called, tasting her from one texture to the next.

She didn’t say anything, but still she breathed, and shook, and clung to him tightly. Maybe for the first time, she was letting go.

Lloyd didn’t know enough self-control, his mouth sucking at her shoulder, then at her neck, until a small sound left Colette’s throat. It was enough to draw him to her lips, his tongue desperate for her, his breath hot and stuttering. I love you, he told her, in each kiss that lingered, in each kiss that took as much of her breath into his lungs. I want you, he confessed to her, reaching for her neck again, to taste both softness and pain that made them shake. I can’t lose you, he whined to her, and he knew it was pathetic, but pressing his teeth against her skin made his own nerves sing.

She was still here, living and breathing, even with a sickness ready to shut away her heart.

He’d kiss the entirety of her body if he could, following the river of her crystal down her chest and to her thighs. But inexperience made him weak, made him exhausted before he could only linger another kiss just against her neck, Colette’s sounds echoing against his teeth.

And when he was spent, when he had to lay his head against the wall to keep himself standing, he told her, “I’m sorry.”

Colette shook her head. She leaned in, kissing his mouth, barely a feather-touch. There were marks all around her neck, dark and nearly bruising. But when she smiled at him, it made her glow, far more than the crystal that ate away at her.

“Thank you,” he said, her voice barely above a whisper. But it lived in him, as it always did, as she always did. “For helping me remember that I’m alive.”

[bluandtherestlesshands]

Heartstrings

Chapter One: Welcome Home

For Mature audiences

CW: None needed. Aizen is a warning all by himself

Today was cause for celebration. He didn’t show it on his face, but those who joined him from the Soul Society knew what as to come… Aizen sat in his throne, resisting the urge to impatiently tap his finger. After sending someone to retrieve her, he couldn’t stop thinking about her arrival: how she would respond to the environment, how she would be with him physically in the room… Being able to speak to her freely whenever he pleased. As calm and collected as he looked on the outside, on the inside he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

Staring off blankly into the room, his eyes refocused at the telltale click, click, click of shoes on the tile. Former Captain Gin Ichimaru approached, carrying someone over his shoulder with that false smile he wore so well. The woman draped over him wore clothing from the human world. Despite Aizen’s opinion of humans, he couldn’t deny she was always well-dressed. Dark slacks, a blouse to complement her fair skin, though he questioned her choice in footwear. Something with a heel, not what he was expecting from an athlete. She truly must have expected something else at the rendezvous point.

”Gin. I trust she is unharmed?” Aizen asked, in a flash he was on the same level as his ally, approaching him.

”She’s alright. She almost ran so I knocked her out.” Gin chuckled, “You know, she surprised me. All those battles and yet she left herself wide open…”

”That’s because she wasn’t anticipating an attack. She often experiences strikes only after engaging in a battle.” He spoke, circling the silver-haired man to begin inspecting the woman. “A surprise attack is not something she’s trained for… Her hair is down. Is this how she arrived?”

”It seems that she was expecting you to show up. I thought it was out of character for her.” Smiling as ever, he turned his head to try and admire the woman. Bouncing her slightly on his shoulder. “Perhaps it was something special she did for you.”

“I see…” Aizen turned to her and leaned down so that he wasn’t towering over her. Using his pointer finger and thumb, he tilted her head towards him as his other hand brushed her hair out of her face. “Chisei, can you hear me?” There was a minute stir, near undetectable, but he took notice. His thumb brushed over her lip while he waited for her eyes to open, smiling at her small reactions. “You made it back to me, Miss Kudake. Speak to me.”

Fluttering eyelashes caused his smile to deepen, though he felt sorry for her when she winced from pain… Perhaps where Gin struck her to bring her here. Big emerald orbs opened slowly, her vision was still blurry… She saw the brunette hair of the man she heard, but this was as far as her recognition went. Once her sight returned, she gasped. Just the other day the man she saw had glasses, shaggy locks in his face, he looked so welcoming and inviting… Now the man that stared at her with his voice instilled panic.

”Sosuke…? Is…?” Chisei breathed out, her movements were slow until she realized someone was carrying her. Her eyes went wide as she forced herself back, kicking herself off Gin’s chest. The man only put up his hands as if to claim innocence while she put some distance between them. “What’s going on!?”

“Oh dear… I might’ve hit her too hard. In a strange new place and she didn’t even draw her weapon.” Gin shrugged, then put his arms down to watch the girl. Chisei Kudake, a woman from Karakura Town that caught the ex captain’s eye over seven years prior. A tiny woman with a history of being a runner… And a unique little Quincy who was a late bloomer. It was almost too easy to lure her here.

”Enough, Gin.” Aizen directed towards his ally, before starting to step towards the woman. He held his hands out to reinforce the idea that he was unarmed. “Chisei, I’m sure that you had some idea things changed. I am still Sosuke Aizen, and I was still the one to ask you to come back to me…”

”You look so… So different.” She said, the only time she could look at him was when she wasn’t averting her gaze to the tile. “Where are we? What is this place? This isn’t…”

”You are right, we are not in the Soul Society. This is Las Noches, A palace that resides within Hueco Mundo. The Hollow World.” He explained. “I built this palace, partly in anticipation of your arrival. You’ve seen some of the Arrancar I’ve sent to Karakura Town… Here I have become their king, their God… Do you remember those questions I asked you, Chisei?”

Referring to himself as a ‘god’ sent a chill down her spine, she took a step back. “You… Wait… Questions?” Shifting gears for a moment, her face began to flush, him continuing to step towards her. “I- Shouldn’t we have that conversation in private?? That’s not…”

”Think nothing of it my dear. All of Las Noches will know of it soon. How you feel for me, and I, you.” Once he was close enough, he took one of her hand in both of his. Unfolding her hand, scanning the cracks and marks in her skin. “After tomorrow, when I announce the arrival of their Queen…”

”A Queen- Wait- Wait what!?” Chisei tried to step back but couldn’t with him holding her, waving her free hand. “That’s sudden, why is it so sudden!?”

“It was made clear when I wanted you to come here.” He said and looked her over, tucking a few strands behind her ear. “Why else did you leave your life behind in Karakura Town?” The woman didn’t speak, but he filled the gap. “To be treated as you deserve to be. I’d like to take you as my queen, my wife… To rule by my side.”

”I… I wasn’t thinking tomorrow… Th-That there wold be some more time between this and… Being your… W-Wife…” She trailed off when those chocolate eyes caught her attention.

”You are in good hands. I will make sure you are cared for. After all, you are far more safe here under my watch.” Aizen spoke matter-of-factly, which only further confused the woman. When her expression that followed wasn’t one of pure adoration, he needed to change tactics. There was a pause before he frowned, pulling away from her and dropping her hand. “Unless… You are not ready for this type of commitment. I wish you had said something during our conversations…” He watched her face contort from the shock before he turned away from her. “I’m sorry if this is too much for you. Of course your family will not know you left, if I arrange to have you brought back now…”

“Didn’t you mention some plan, Captain Aizen?” Gin chimed in, “Something about a letter and instructions..?” His false smile widened into one of genuine joy at the fright on Chisei’s face. He was exactly right… In preparation for coming here, the woman left her family home. How to handle finances for the next year, or until Aizen’s plan is complete. Whichever came first.

”That’s right, Gin. Though it is possible one of them already found it… Are you sure someone hasn’t read it? That letter showed you had made your decision…”

“Don’t take it the wrong way-! I-It’s not that I don’t want to, this is just… So sudden…” Chisei tried to explained, she went between looking at him, and staring at the floor as if it would somehow reveal the words she needed. “I-I didn’t realize what else came with us being together… It… It wasn’t really what I was expecting… I don’t know what I expected, but this… this wasn’t it, I-“

The next time she raised her gaze, a pair of lips cut her off before she could prattle on. Aizen lifted her chin to kiss her, knowing fully well she would ramble herself to the ends of the earth. It was one of those cute flaws he couldn’t get enough of. He held her there, both their eyes closed, and he pulled away by inches before scanning her face. The woman stared into those brown eyes he knew she loved, big emerald orbs still so confused and lost.

”Chisei, listen to me. I will take care of you. You’ve prioritized others long enough. From now on, you will be treated as royalty.” He said, cupping her cheeks. “Let me handle everything. I promise I have more to show you.”

”I… I…. O-Okay…” She gave him a small nod, which earned her another gentle soft kiss. It was short-lived however, as Gin’s voice caught their attention.

”Oh, you’re here? Guess you get to meet her Royal Highness before everyone else.”

Aizen didn’t have to turn yet, he only glanced in that direction as he let go of Chisei’s face. “Ulquiorra. You’re early.”

The Espada stood at attention, expressionless. Something Chisei was able to recognize as normal. “I apologize, Lord Aizen. I will wait for your instruction.”

”Don’t be. We’re finishing up now, this shouldn’t take long.” Aizen spoke, stepping to the side to gesture to his soldier. “This is Ulquiorra Cifer. I don’t believe you’ve properly met. He will be escorting you through the rest of tonight. He is my most loyal Espada. Ulquiorra, consider this an opportunity. You and Szayel Apporo are meeting your Queen early.”

“A Queen? I see.” He approached, though he blinked as something clicked when he got a proper look at her attire. “It’s you. The Quincy woman.”

”Good. So you know her capabilities as well. This is Chisei Kudake.” Aizen smiled to his newly proclaimed wife, now addressing her. “In preparation or tomorrow, I’ve arranged for you to have new clothes made. Ulquiorra will bring you there and then to my personal palace - Our palace. Unfortunately I have other matters that require my attention, but I will be there later for our first night together.”

”Oh how exciting! I know what we’ll be hearing later~” Gin teased as the woman turned bright red. Ulquiorra only blinked, not understanding what just transpired. He admired the innocence of it all, the cute little thing who ideally wanted to wait until marriage. No need to wait if her lover claimed her as his queen.

”Gin. Enough.” The man sighed, then pressed a kiss to the woman’s forehead. “Please ignore him. We can discuss later.” He straightened himself before continuing. “I trust you to keep her safe and on track, Ulquiorra. She is to be treated with the upmost respect. You should have plenty of time to bring her to my quarters.”

”Understood. How should I address her, Lord Aizen?” Uquiorra tilted his head in a very subtle motion.

”’Lady Chisei’ or ‘Lady Aizen’ should suffice.” He watched the woman flinch at the use of his name, and smiled in her direction. “Chisei. You’re going to meet another one of the Espada. Szayel Apporo will be finalizing your clothes tonight. Once brought to our quarters, take the time to settle in. In the morning, your new clothes will be there in time for the announcement.”

”Right…” She nodded to him, slowly stepping her way toward the Espada. “It’s… It’s nice to meet you properly.”

“Lady Chisei. It is good you arrived here unharmed.” Ulquiorra said, doing little in the way of acknowledging her glaring over her shoulder at one of his commanders. He turned. “This way. If Szayel Apporo is expecting you, we should not keep him waiting.” As he started to walk away, Chisei followed closely behind. Out of habit, she wrapped her arms around her waist in an effort to calm herself.

While the two departed, Aizen watched her carefully. Everything was going according to plan…

”So, you gonna explain why you brought her here?” Gin asked once Chisei was out of earshot. “You’re hardly short on prospective suitors, you know… And far more blindly devoted ones.”

”It matters more what she is able to provide on the battlefield. She will be crucial against the enemy.” Aizen said simply. “When the time comes, she will be ready. I will see to it personally.”

[fearless-stormclaw]

To celebrate me starting the last chapter of the main part of the first book of my Owl House HP AU here are some sketches of some of the kiddos!

I might put colored versions of these drawings into the final draft.

(Fair warning, I do not claim to be an artist. Headshots are about the extent of my abilities.)

First up, our protaganist, 11-year-old Luz Noceda! She wears her hair in pigtails most of the time. The image on the right is a possible design of her with her hair down. (or a possible Vee, whose design I haven't fully pinned down yet) And I realized I forgot her scar whoops She's also supposed to have a scar across her left eyebrow which I forgot to draw but please imagine it's there.

Next up, 11-year old Amity Blight! Her little ponytail was an absolute pain to figure out how to draw. I think I managed it passably though. Her hair is dyed green, like it was in season 1 of the show.

12-year old Willow Park! Poor girl, she is haunted. Sorry, eyes are still a weakness. She's a year older than the others but still in the same grade because her birthday is after the first day of school. For Willow, this adds to her feeling of being behind everyone else.

9-year old Gus Porter! I should mention that the witches in this AU have normal round human ears, just like the wizards in the Harry Potter books. I imagine little Gus to have quite large ears that he will grow into some later. Again I apologize for the eyes.

11-year old Boscha Malphiday! I'm really pleased with how she turned out, although I struggled with her third eye and I'm still not 100% satisfied with how it turned out. Her surname in this AU is a play off of Malfoy--Malfoy comes from the French for "bad faith" (mal foi); Malphiday comes from "mal fidei", Latin for "bad faith".

13-year-old Hunter! He only appears as a cameo in the main storyline of Book 1, but he has a big part in one of the bonus epilogue chapters (which I haven't really written yet). In this timeline, he has only recently officially received his Golden Guard title. He hasn't gotten his cheek scar, ear notch, or eye bags yet (they will all come in due time) but he does have his tooth gap. He got that from getting his face punched in during training. I drew his Golden Guard uniform with only the one pauldron on his left shoulder as in the show, but I'm thinking of giving him a second one on his right shoulder like in the storyboards.

Meet 15-year-old Oliva Che'! She's one of my OCs. She's basically the Oliver Wood character--the captain of the Owl House grudgby team. She is a very spirited and gung-ho type and very enthusiastic about grudgby. She is in the construction track, although she is not a huge fan of the coven system. She's kind of a fun big sister to the younger Owl House students. She is of Yucateca Maya descent. She has brown or gold eyes. Her hair is naturally black but she dyes it a different color every year and usually keeps it in braids. This year it's pink. Unfortunately Paint did a weird thing when I cropped this picture and made her blurry I am so angry Her Palisman (not pictured) is a black spiny-tailed iguana named Toloc.

Meet 16-year-old Saka Katu! She is another OC. She is a cat demon girl and Oliva's girlfriend and also plays on the Owl House grudgby team (mostly because Oliva insists). She is in Potions track and believes deeply in the Coven system. She's a little uptight, some might call her bossy, and big into following the rules. She's kinda of a strict big sister type to the younger Owl House students. She keeps Oliva from being too reckless while Oliva keeps her from being too stiff. Saka is Malagasy for cat and Katu is Basque for cat so her name is literally "cat cat". She may or may not have a Palisman; if she does, it's some sort of fish.

Last but not least, 11-year-old William Myrtus Warthorne! His design is based off of Ser William from the audio tests/pilot. He is described as a handsome boy--broad-shouldered, with blond hair and blue eyes and a hooked nose which I swear I fixed but somehow it's still wrong ORZ. He is in Goat House and is friends with Boscha, but he doesn't participate in bullying (he doesn't do anything to stop it, though, he's just sort of there). He has a friendly, laidback personality and can get along with just about anyone. It's not discussed in this book (it's more of a plot point in book 2), but his family, the Warthornes, are a cadet branch of the Clawthornes which is why he has Clawthorne and Wittebane features.

[kittycatcarla]

fuck it games i played update post

tonight was just Chicory? i think? yeah

i wanted to play mc as well but i got so into chicory that i didnt have time

anyway spoilers for Chicory under cut

(also storytime and screenshots; at the end a little analysis about parallels between chicory and hollow knight)

ok so screenshots first(there's a lot of them)

ok so first of all i managed to diagnose the bug that made it so my cursor would randomly snap to the bottom-right for a single frame. playing in windowed mode seems to solve it. not ideal, but at least drawing isnt as frustrating

^ thanks for the reddit gold trash kind stranger!

^ hullo! ^-^

^ it's shit but i wanted to show off the holey design i made

^ the facial expressions of everyone lmao

^ still dont really know who the vandal is. anyway butts ehehe

^ I'm sorry but Nintendon't won't show mercy for that

^ her face expression (again) lmao

^ ace icon? or gay icon? queer icon nonetheless (yes that there is a very crude attempt at drawing little ghost)

^ love him (disregard the paintings)

^ somebody's horny on main

^ POTATO

^ Horn't shirt

^ ok fuck you game given the tools given and my skill level im actually kinda proud of what i managed to do fuck you (<2)

^ I forgot to make screenshots with the other lines related to this but... fuck i relate to chicory so much. The impostor syndrome. the self-hatred. except that im actually shit compared to what she canonically does but like. That only made what she did to Cupcake (idk i named my character like that. They asked for food it's not my fault) hit even harder on me. I am talentless. I do have no experience. But fuck you (<2) for being so relatable to me specifically and for making me see myself in both characters

^ why, hello there

Ok now i shorter analysis of connections between Chicory and Hollow Knight (maybe also Celeste?) cause it's 1AM and I'm kinda tired

(spoilers for both games)

(also have in mind that i still havent finished chicory)

Ok i first of all find really interesting the theme and the title of both chicory and hk. The title represents a character. Not hte playable character like in other games, but the final Boss, or at least the (apparent) source of Bad in the world. Granted i do no know for sure the final boss of chicory. and technically hk isnt the final boss of hk. I wouldnt be surprised if the final boss in chicory is my own depression. But that's beside the point.

Both characters, Chicory and Hollow, were left with immense responsibilities upon their shoulders. And both of them failed due to mental roadblocks. Because there was nobody to help them. Because they were supposed to be the best. And while they were extremely skilled, they became their own enemy. This caused in both cases, Corruption. Now, in one case it's the manifestation of a literal god that acts like a hivemind. In the other it's the negative thoughts of someone wielding a tool with pretty much godly powers. Same thing really.

Moreover, this Corruption manifests itself onto the entire land (we do not take into account the exceptions in HK and the possible exceptions in Ch. once again, i havent finished the latter). And it is in the hands of the player, representing somebody that was cast out, rejected by the ones they looked up to, but in the end becoming the best out of everyone, to fix it all.

The point is i dont know. But im excited to see how the plot of Ch unfolds

(also the idea i had about celeste was how Madeline and Chicory are in similar situations with their mental health. But unlike Madeline, Chicory does not accept any outside help, nor does she seek help herself (at least not yet)) (yeah this idea has even less sense now. disregard it if you will)

[spider-mar2004]

Surprise little Spider!

[OcxCanon Child OC drabble]

Characters: Oliver Parker, Kaine Parker, Marlette Saravia, Ben Reilly

Warnings: Infant Sadness, But other just fluff.

Ahhh, autumn, the breeze being colder, the trees being with hot colors, the leaves falling, but aswell at the same time one of the most famous events from every year. Exactly, Halloween, scary spooky decorations on and in many houses, this day was so exciting for people, specially, kids.

31st October, seemed like would hit a nice day, or more likely, double day for someome.

Speaking about a small kid with five years old named Oliver. Who casually, today turned six years old.

Is his birthday! He was happy that the day where he was born was today, be was in his little school, although well, he was the most quiet kid in the classroom, he seemed more like neutral but obviously he was excited for inside.

But being aswell shy for express because well mega introverted energy most likely. He knew the day would be a great day for him, halloween and birthday, two days in one, how amazing! Since he woke up from his bed, his parents Kaine and Marlette, including his uncle Ben giving him a small special breakfast. Just his day.

But sometimes things couldn't go as planned, while he was in tha classroom, he was writting invitation cards for some other kids because, well he wanted live a double party experience, at least with the kids he tolerate.

"Oliver Parker?"

A female voice asked, Oliver flinched and quickly hid the small cards with his hands, his dark dull blue eyes looking at the teacher, but not directly at her eyes. Curious habit he always had with other people who aren't his family.

"What are you doing? Why many piece of papers?"

The lady gently asked, Oliver was unsure of tell, well after all he didn't like speak a lot so. But the teacher noticed the text and understood as she readed the enough.

"Ohhh! You planning do your party of halloween?"

The kid hearing her nodded, but didn't want reveal his birthday, because he would feel uncomfortable every student about that, after all he only would invite few students, not all. Plus if he would've tell everyone that, kids that he doesn't like could come. Oliver's early social life is a bit difficult, but don't worry, could be treated really soon.

"That's amazing! But pay attention okay? After classes you invite."

She smiled, Oliver tried look at the woman's eyes but he struggled, nodding.

After few hours later, the classes finished. Oliver with his backpack of a dinosaur, walked to some students, giving them the invitation cards, although his text was a bit messy, at least had some cute drawings. The kids readed, some of them shrugged with a kinda sad face.

"Oh sorry, i can't, i have party already."

One said, Oliver frowned a little, but understood.

"Me either... I have to go at my aunt's house."

The other said, and the others said related reasons why they won't go, even the only girl from the class he liked couldn't assist.

"Ow, Ollie i really wish! But i have things to do and my family have a party too..."

Oliver's face began to be a sad one now, they left as their parents arrived, and he was there, stood, frowning and feeling his little heart hurt, he felt like he didn't have luck in this. So he just sat down and looked down.

Until his uncle Ben arrived, dressed casual of course, which he waved, Oliver took seconds for look at him. Which caused Ben suspect something, he knows him really well.

All he just would need the kid's custody because he was like a dad figure too, when the child saw Ben, he walked him, leaving the school.

"Hey My mini Kaine! Why that face hm?"

He asked, picking him up and tliting his headz giving a soft kiss on his forehead, Oliver glanced down with a small frown.

"I am listening buddy, no worries."

He made Oliver sit on his shoulders, which he laid his chin on Ben's blonde hair, he sighed.

"N-no biwthday..."

He murmured, Ben frowned in empathy at the short words from his nephew.

"Why? Wait, did you try invite others and nobody can't?"

Oliver nodded, confirming, Ben frowned more, he felt bad see his little nephew like that, but he thought silently, getting now a new idea inside of his mind.

After hours later, when the sky began to dark, Oliver saw the other kids and people celebrate the halloween, the young kid watched through the window with a sad face, many kids with different costumes, suits, etc, all having fun between groups.

And him, being alone with just his family. Yes but, he wanted have more fun like any other child in the world. His father, Kaine Parker arrived from a mission he had, wearing his suit with his mask, but before change his clothes, he would check his little baby for him. As he opened the door he saw him, Oliver turned his head for see his dad, who walked to him and picked him up.

"What are you doing? My little birthday boy."

He questioned, Oliver took off his mask slowly, Kaine would let him, so he kissed his forehead.

"You seem off... That shouldn't be."

"But... No pawty..."

"No party? What do you mean?"

He raised up an eyebrow, "confused" by his child's sadness, but he sighed and shook his head.

"Hey, mom prepared your favorite dinner, let's go."

Then they went to the kitchen, dinner? It was 6:00 PM, would be a bit strange a earlier dinner, but there was the reason why. After eat in small family, Marlette knew the sadness, but there was a plan.

"Ollie, mi cielo. Wanna go to a mission with us? Could help you and we can buy you a cake."

Marlette, the literally big mother, calming suggested, Kaine confused looked at her but she pinched Kaine's thigh for keep following the plan, who quickly remembered and nodded, Oliver thought and accepted.

"Yes mami."

God damn that voice whenever he spoke... Could melt someone's heart indeed with that. So Marlette smiled , this was getting well as planned. Later then, the both adult spiders with their suits, including the small spider with his zipped hoodie of Kaine's suit theme and "hoodie mask" on. Hugging his mom tightly when all went to a near building, all walking on the walls of it. Oliver was confused, why walk? A mission would be fast as possible. But as minutes later...

Surpriseeee!!

Balloons, table with snacks and candies, some confetti and family with friends! Ben Reilly was dressed as ghost, Aracely as a mummy, etc. Oliver widened his eyes in surprise as he unzipped his hoodie mask, Marlette desactivated her mask and smiled, kissing his little cheek, while Kaine took his mask off and joined, smiling aswell.

"Feliz Cumpleaños, hijo."

Then, Oliver screeched of happiness and ran to the party.

His best surprise in a night of Halloween.