#suck it up birds are born to do that

[massiveladycat]

Here's why declawing, debarking, and wing clipping is wrong. Declawing is the amputation of the last knuckle of each toe for a cat. It's very painful for them. Declawing causes paw pain, back pain, infection, tissue death, and lameness. Removing claws changes a cat's feet and causes pain. Improperly removed claws can regrow, causing nerve damage and bone spurs. It is an unnecessary mutilation. You are removing what are basically the tips of your cat's fingers for your convenience. Debarking is a surgical procedure performed to remove portions of a dog's vocal folds or cords. The goal of the surgery is to lower the volume of a dark's bark. It makes them unable to produce normal sounds when barking. It reduces the noise, but it doesn't address what is causing the barking and the dog's stress. They will continue to suffer mentally and will have to find other ways to communicate their needs. It's proven to have detrimental after-effects on the dog. I, personally, see debarking as cruel. Wing clipping is the process of trimming a bird's primary wing feathers so that it isn't capable of flying until it grows new ones. Flying is the quickest way of transportation to birds. They get away from predators by flying. Birds with clipped wings exposes them and makes them vulnerable. It disrupts the flight of a bird and landing behavior, leading to crashes at higher and more dangerous speeds than an unclipped bird. Wing clipping can injure your bird after and during procedure. It could also be bad for the trust between the owner and the bird. It causes them a lot of stress. Birds rely heavily on their ability to fly, and taking away this ability can and will be traumatic for them, being a major blow to their psychological health.  If you don't want a pet that barks, don't get a dog. If you don't want a pet that has claws, don't get a cat. If you don't want a pet that flies, don't get a bird. If you don't appreciate how animals are, maybe you shouldn't have one as a pet. Us as humans don't have the right to surgically mutilate animals just to make them how we want them for us to own them. We should all band together to try and stop debarking, declawing and wing clipping.

[zomyoo]

⠀ 𝗝.𝗪𝗪 ━ the vampire i loved 。

you fell asleep reading your all time favorite fantasy book, wishing you were born in its universe. when you wake up, you realize you're no longer in your bedroom.

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: smut included! biting, mentions of blood and blood sucking, teasing, overstimulating, pet names, mirror fucking, multiple rounds, unprotected sex.

⟢ vampire!wonwoo x collegestudent!reader ⠀⠀—⠀⠀𝗪𝗖: 2,656

read part two here.

your jaw dropped at the gut-wrenching ending of the book you had borrowed from your friend. the whole novel had your toes curling and kept your underwear wet, how could the ending be the total opposite of the lewd feeling you once had? tears formed at the corner of your eyes, threatening to drop as you processed the death of your favorite character. you understood that the author had to make the ending as memorable as the plot was, but you never knew, or even thought they could do such a terrible thing to the character everyone loved.

you had been reading this series for a few years now, and you had finally finished it. you thanked the lord and remained grateful to your friend for having and allowing you to borrow the last book. being a college student, you barely had money to feed yourself and the job market was really demanding, so how the heck would you be able to afford any of your hobbies?

you closed the book to avoid staining it with your tears and sunk into your bed, sadness taking over your body. you had made up a whole story of your own with him; you were both married and lived in a castle hidden in the depths of a large forest with two black cats but the author killing him off just crushed all your dreams.

he was only a character, sure, but he awakened your love for vampires and the desire to be one yourself, you couldn’t just let that go. you stared at the poster on the ceiling, his beautiful face causing you to get more consumed by your sadness. with a sigh escaping your lips, you decided to go to bed, actually eager to fix your sleep schedule, which will probably last till you obsess over a new book.

awokened by the sound of chirping birds and a cold breeze coming in contact with your skin, you slowly opened your eyes, confused as your gaze fell upon trees and not the man who haunted your dreams. you sat up, the leaves beneath you rubbing together to create a noise, which was one of the two sounds that could be heard in the forest you somehow ended up in.

“what the fuck...” you whispered, standing up from the concrete floor as you looked around, the path looking a little too familiar. you couldn’t exactly recall where you had seen or heard of it, but you knew where it led and you began walking down it. using your hands to cover your exposed arms, you rubbed them, eager to feel warm.

the scenery was one you had never seen before. trees with little to no leaves and crows sitting on their branches hovered over you and the environment was completely dull, submerged in the heavy fog. in the distance, you could see a lantern, which was the first and only source of light you had seen since you magically teleported into this alternative universe.

as you walked into the depths of the forest, the lanterns multiplied, it was like they were leading the way, lighting up one by one. you found yourself fascinated in front of what could only be explained by witchcraft, no modern science would be able to replicate something like this.

soon enough, you saw something peeking above the trees, with the silhouette it created, you assumed it was a castle, or at least a building similar to one. as you approached it, you were faced with a type of architecture you would love to see more of; vertical proportions, pointed arches, external buttressing, asymmetry and long stained-glass windows.

you were very much fond of the gothic style it had and in awe of seeing right in front of your eyes. you had seen similar buildings before, but none compared to the originals. you snapped out of your thoughts and decided to walk in, certain you were drawn here for a reason.

as you pushed open the door, you peaked inside, seeing nothing but darkness, which you were never afraid of up until now. the emptiness of the room before you sent chills down your spine, and you could sense a presence in there, which made you freeze in place, wondering if you should step in. perhaps you had made the wrong choice by following those lanterns.

“come in.” a deep voice echoed from across the room, causing you to flinch and turn your head towards the direction of the sound. not wanting to anger whomever invited you in, unsure what they were capable of, you did as told and shut the door behind you.

a light in the middle of the room suddenly turned on, it was dim but it sufficed to see most of the furnitures scattered around the room, some of them covered with a white cloth. however, that was the least of your concerns, your eyes wandered around the room, adjusting to the areas that remained in the darkness in hopes of finding a human silhouette, though you doubted anything in here would share that in common.

suddenly, you felt a strong presence behind you, and before you could do anything, you felt yourself getting embraced. “i’ve been waiting for you.” the manly voice spoke once more before its owner sniffed you, buring his head in your neck and licking your skin.

you weren’t so sure how to feel about everything that had happened in the past few seconds. a random man had his arms wrapped around you, kept going on about how much he’s been waiting for you, and constantly sniffed your neck like your scent was enchanting him.

“okay... who are you?” you questioned, trying to break away from his grasp, which only grew tighter the more you fought it off. at your question, the man turned you around so you could see his face, and you almost fell on your knees as you did so.

“...won..wonwoo?” you screamed, pinching yourself to make sure you were not dreaming. “how the fuck are you still alive after getting killed off? and how the hell am i even talking to you right now? you’re a god damn character in a stupid book.”

“my love, if i was only a character, would i be able to do this?” he asked, gently placing his right hand on your back, using his strength to pull you in close, then placed his left hand on your chin, lifting it up as he looked into your eyes before planting a soft kiss on your lips.

you were quick to wrap your arms around his neck, your sudden move causing him to smirk and bite your lip. you slightly opened your mouth, which was enough for him to slip his tongue in, intertwining it with yours. you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on, one of your biggest fantasies was happening and you weren’t even sure if it was real.

the man slid his hand underneath your silk buttoned up shirt, the coldness of his touch made you flinch, but it was quickly replaced with pleasure when he began squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples. you were still in your pajamas, so you didn’t have any underwear on, which made everything easily accessible for him.

you moaned in his mouth, wanting more than his touch. you had been craving this man since you set your eyes on the book cover, desperately wishing he was real, wishing he would touch every single part of your body with his mouth, fingers and his cock. speaking of, you wondered if he was as big as the author described.

“wo..wonwoo plea..please...” you managed to let out, your voice muffled in the heated make out session you both had going on. he pulled away from the kiss and in a second, he removed your shirt, exposing your uncovered breasts, which he stared at whilst biting his lips. “they’re so beautiful.” he spoke, a red tint appearing on your cheeks as you slowly slipped out of your shorts, completely denuded before him.

he licked his lips at the sight of your naked body, his gaze trailing from up to down, taking in the view of your perky breasts, the goosebumps that formed on your body due to the sudden change of temperature, your thighs touching eachother, and your swollen cunt that wanted nothing but him. “touch yourself.” he commanded, and you laid down on what you assumed was a sofa, spreading your legs wide for him to see.

you put two fingers in your mouth, sucking them before your inserted them in your pussy, pulling them in and out as fast as you could. your free hand was on your breast, squeezing it as you imagined it was him. you threw your head backwards, breaking the eye contact you held with him, as you moved faster, your moans and the sweet noise of your wet cunt took over the room. he wished your sounds reached him directly, so he could be the only one able to hear them.

as he watched you, he couldn’t help but want to touch himself as well. he threw his clothes off his body and took his hardened cock in his right hand, stroking it alongside your constant moans. “wonwoo....” you cried out, literally going insane from lacking his touch.

as you moaned out his name, he walked over to you and shoved his cock in your mouth. your eyes widened at his length but that didn’t stop you from wanting to take him fully. the hand you used to massage your chest was now wrapped around his cock, and you were moving your head back and forth to please him, all while looking into his eyes.

his moans sounded so sweet. it wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely enough to make you cum. as you did, he began throatfucking you, wanting to reach his climax as well. “fuck..you feel so good.” he mumbled, a loud groan escaping his mouth as he cummed into yours.

after you swallowed his seeds, you got on your knees and kissed him, his hand reaching forward to grab your ass, lifting you up. as you wrapped your legs around him, melting underneath his touch, he sat on the sofa and you began grinding his cock, letting out soft moans. you buried your fingers in his hair, and slowly slid his cock in. “oh my god.” you uttered, your words followed by a loud moan as his length made it all the way in.

you began moving, taking it a step at a time to make it enjoyable for the both of you. as you moved faster, he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts whilst resting his hands on your hips. he felt too good and you enjoyed yourself way too much. riding his dick felt like heaven and his obsession with your body sent you straight to paradise. he made sure to touch you everywhere and it excited you even more. some of the things he did were very specific, it was like he had been reading you and knew all of your turn ons.

“i..i’m so close...” you breathed out, and he used a finger to draw circles your clit. the sudden overstimulation caused you to grab his shoulders and bury your head on his chest, jumping faster on his cock until you reached your high and eventually released.

“shall we go upstairs?” he questioned, lifting you up as you nodded your head, a little shocked at his ability to still want to continue. he had a lot of stamina, and you adored it.

he laid you down on the bed, turning you on your stomach so you could face the mirror right in front of the both of you. honestly, you had never been in this kind of situation before, and staring at yourself while getting fucked was something you were definitely willing to try, perhaps it could awaken something in you, just like the man playing with your clit started your attraction to vampires.

“wonwoo, do you have fangs?” you questioned, looking at him through the glass. he truly was pretty, you could stare at him all day. “indeed i do, why do you ask?” he said, staring back at you as he gestured for you to get on all fours, and you did as he demanded.

“i would l—” you began, instantly getting cut off as he continually licked your cunt, those small innocent licks turning into him completely getting drowned in your pussy juice. he sucked and swallowed, hungry for more. eating you out and creating circles on your clit weren’t enough, he had to slid in his tongue and eat you from inside. he wanted to devour you completely, your taste was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough of it.

you never thought seeing your cum on his face would turn you on so much, but it did. he swallowed the parts he could and cleaned the rest off with a tissue, which he had a box of in his room for whatever reason you did not wish to know, it was never mentioned in the book.

soon enough, he aligned his cock with your cunt, gently rubbing your clit with his tip. you couldn’t stand the teasing, you wanted to feel him inside you, now. it did not take him long to realize you were needy, you had been moving your hips along with his cock, signaling that you were ready for him.

he smirked before shoving his cock into your cunt, a long sigh escaping your mouth as you tightly gripped the sheets. he slowly began thrusting into you, stretching your insides so his cock could fully fit in. when he felt you clench around him, he moved faster, pounding your beautiful pussy and taking in your moans.

he grabbed you by the hair and lifted your head, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “watch how slutty you look.” he uttered with no response. you were too busy getting rawdogged and fucked with no remorse to pay attention to his words. your eyes rolled back and your back arched as he slammed his cock against your walls with force and speed, filling up all of your needs and darkest desires.

“w..wonwoo...nhh...” you whined, slowly reaching your climax, your body trembling from the amount of pleasure you were feeling. it was too much for your head to handle but not too much for your body who yearned for more than just a dildo to bear.

the man spinned you around, shoving his cock as deep as he could and placing his mouth in your neck, sucking your skin to place his mark. his fangs made their appearance, and though you couldn’t see them, you could definitely feel them on your skin. he licked your neck before biting it, sucking your blood that was to be mixed with his.

he placed his hands on your hips, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he was close. “cum with me baby.” he seductively whispered in your ear, his words followed by a moan you could die to hear. you placed your hands on his shoulders, your grip tightened and your head throwed back as you came on his cock and him in you.

you breathed out loud, not able to contain yourself. you were drained and sure you would never be satisfied by anything less than what he did to you. the man kissed you on your forehead and laid next to you, pulling you into an embrace.

you woke up feeling sore, your head spinning and eyesight blurry. as you were able to see clearly, you had been faced with the same poster you sticked on your ceiling, a sigh of disappointment escaped your lips as you realized it was all a dream.

.... or was it?

dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/saradika-graphics this was NOT proofread, i absolutely hate reading my own shit, and the ending was rushed, please bear with me!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ copyright © 2024 zomyoo, all rights reserved

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 13 ✿:+ What is Loyalty?

Chapter Index | next chapter

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: MDNI, SMUT, NSFW themes, Sandor “my wife” Clegane, Unprotected P in V sex, Oral sex (Fem rec), multiple reader orgasms, insecure reader, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, 

A/N: We're back at it again. A longer chapter for the come back lol

Word Count: 8.2K 

Sandor was part of Jon Snow’s party as they traveled through the lands beyond the wall on their mission to capture a wight. The party walked many many miles. Sandor contemplated what he was doing, he hated the extreme cold, but he reminded himself he was doing it for you. 

As he stopped to retie his boot, a tall, but much shorter than Sandor, red haired man approached him.

“You’re the one they call the dog!” The man shouted as he approached Sandor.

Sandor finished tying his boot, “Fuck off.” He huffed casually as he continued on.

The attitude did not deter the man as he followed Sandor, “They told me you were mean. Were you born mean or you just hate Wildlings?” 

“Don’t give two shits about Wildlings. Gingers I hate.” He said scowling at the red haired man.

The man amused by his words continued to talk despite Sandors obvious wishes for the conversation to end, “Gingers are beautiful, we’re kissed by fire. Just like you-“ The man said pointing a finger at Sandor's burned face.

Sandor hit the mans hand down and away from him, “Don’t point your fucking finger at me.” He barked at him.

Sandor walked away and yet somehow the man was not put off. He smiled and continued to walk alongside Sandor.

“Did you trip into the fire when you were a baby?” The man pried into Sandor's past.

“I didn’t trip, I was pushed.” Sandor huffed as he kept walking, not looking at the man.

“And ever since you’ve been mean.” The man surmised. 

“Will you fuck off?” Sandor annoyingly barked at him.

“I don’t think you’re truly mean. You have sad eyes.” The man tried to understand him, it struck a chord somewhere deep within him. He remembered how you once said something like that to him a long long time ago, whispered in the night as you held onto him. It was his final straw. 

Sandor stopped and scowled down at the red haired man, “You want to suck my dick is that it?”

“Dick?” The man asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Cock.��� Sandor translated. 

“Oh, dick... I like it.” The man shrugged, amused by the new word he had learned. 

Sandor scrunched up his face, now just confused by the entire interaction, “Bet you do.” He mocked, as he continued to walk.

The man still followed him, “No, it’s pussy for me. I have a beauty waiting for me back in Winterfell, if I ever get back there. (Y/H/C) hair…(Y/E/C) eyes…About this tall,” He gestured to your height. Sandor thought for a moment how similar his description was of you. But he was convinced it was a coincidence. “The perfect height for me. .” The man continued on, “Sharp tongued, bravest woman you’d ever seen. A high bred southern bird from a castle in the sky they say.” He said as if the memory of you was a breath of fresh air. However the description of you ran cold through Sandors body. 

Sandor stopped, and turned to the man, “(Y/N) Arryn?” 

“You know her?” He asked, happy to hear your name.

“You are with (Y/N) fucking Arryn?!” Sandor stepped closer, his words dripping with violent anger. 

The man almost shrunk as he explained, “Well not with her yet… but I’ve seen the way she looks at me.” 

Sandor scoffed, “How does she look at you?” He stepped closer to him, his words were dark and heavy, “Like she wants to carve you up and eat your liver?” His eyes narrowed onto the man.

“You do know her.” He said, narrowing his eyes back.

“Aye, I know her.” He scoffed as he kept walking, angry and jealous.

“You seen her fight?” He asked, following along with still.

“Fight?” Sandor practically spit his words at him.

“She’s a killer. I saw her take an arrow to her leg, while she bit a man's finger off, then she took that arrow, snapped it in half and stabbed that man in his eye with it.” He spoke of the violent act you committed, as if it were romantic.

Sandor shook his head and scoffed, “You’re a mad fucker you know that?” He knew now for certain you had too much good sense to be with a man like him, too much good sense to even entertain the idea.

The man continued, “It’s true. Cut through four men. Rode an entire army into battle. And fed a man to dogs.” Sandor thought of it, the last he saw of you you were a girl alone with no money, no army, no family, and the iron throne as an enemy against you. How could you have done so much, accomplished “I want to make babies with her. Think of them, they’d conquer the world!” 

Sandor snapped, turning to the man and grabbing him by his fur coat, “If you say the word babies again I'll strangle you with your own guts.” He barked loudly at him.

“There will be no fighting on account of my cousin. Not while she’s resting and not while we are on this mission.” Jon said, making Sandor huff and let go of the man.

“She’s your cousin now?” The man with red hair asked. Remembering when he told you you were not his cousin when you first met.

Jon looked down, somewhat regretful of his words, “She showed great loyalty to my blood, her blood. Cousin is close enough.” He said as he continued to walk, “And I will not have any of you fight over her favor when we’ve a matter of great importance to see to.” 

Sandor reluctantly continued on, angry and jealous. But now he knew where you were, and knew you were alive. That was enough for him to continue.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You lost so much in the war. Lika was your horse sense you were but a child. She was the first horse you’d learned to ride. You lost the last man who was eternally loyal to you, the last man who loved you in the way only a father could. As if that weren’t enough, your body was now littered with healing scars. A constant reminder of the price you paid.  

You sat by the fire in your chamber. You wore a white chemise and wrapped yourself in a fur as you examined the scar on your thigh. Running your finger over it, going over the memory of the pain. 

As you did, your chamber door opened suddenly. Making you pull your chemise down and covering your bare legs. 

Sansa walked in, closing the door behind her. “You’ve not left your chambers in some time.” She said, gently.

You let your guard down, relaxing. You looked into the fire, “Resting. Rest is needed to heal.” 

“You're healed.” She said bluntly, you looked at her, “Well, your leg is healed.” She replied plainly. 

You sighed, you knew she was right. You had used your injury as an excuse long enough. “Time they say.” you said dispassionately, “It heals all, though I am not sure of that.” You said gloomily. 

Sansa approached you, sitting beside you, “You never told me.” You looked at her confused. “The man you said you loved, that Baelish took from you.” She clarified. 

You took a deep breath, looking into the fire, “Sandor Clegane.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the sound of his name.

“The Hound.” She spoke calmly. 

You shook your head slowly as you thought back to it, “I just called him Sandor.” You looked into the fire again. Sansa’s silence made you feel uneasy. You didn’t dare look at her, fearful of her reaction. You knew she and he were in Kings Landing at the same time, maybe she’d only seen the cruelty that was demanded of him. “I know many think he was cruel-”

She interrupted your words, “He clothed me once. When Joffrey ordered his men to strip me while they beat me in the throne room. He didn’t.” You looked at her, you listened to her story as warm tears began to rise in your eyes, and your nose and cheeks began to flush with heat, “He gave me his white cloak.” She placed a hand on yours, “He was kind.” She smiled softly as she spoke kindly of your beloved rather than pass any judgment. You were grateful for that. 

You smiled, and sniffed your now runny nose, “Thank you.” You said as she wiped a tear from your cheek, forcing you to realize your tears had begun to fall. You breathed a laugh as you wiped them with the back of your hand. You looked down at the of yours hand that Sansa held, “I miss him.” You nodded, your smile falling, replaced with a frown, “His pain has ended, but… I am in agony.” You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed. 

Sansa held you. It reminded you of when you both were in Kings Landing and the roles were reversed. You always held her when she cried, you tried your best to comfort her but it never worked. Now you understand. 

You pulled away and swallowed your sobs, wiping away the rest of your tears with it. You took a deep breath. 

Sansa tucked your hair behind your ear as she spoke softly, “You hide it well enough to the others.” 

You huffed, tired of your emotion. “I have to have my moments of misery. If not I would throw myself from the highest tower I could find.” You let out one deep breath “You’re the only one I’d ever tell that to.” 

“I understand the feeling.” She nodded, 

You looked at her and focused on her experiences, “You’ve grown so much, you know. Not that you'd have any choice. Girls are beaten into women. But all the same, you’ve grown.” You forced a smile.

“In King's Landing I watched you closely. Every Time I was scared I thought of what you would have done. I learned how to carry myself from the strongest woman I know.” She smiled at you, and you smiled back, gripping tighter onto her hand. “Speaking of, I received this,” She looked down at the letters she received earlier that day. 

You opened it, your brows furrowed, “An invitation to King's Landing?” You scoffed at such a ridiculous idea. 

Sansa rolled her eyes in agreement, “For the both of us. For the Ladies of the North and East.” She sighed, “I know it is a part of Jon’s plan. But I can’t go back there.” She said defeatedly.

“I won’t leave you.” You said throwing the invitation into the fire you sat beside. “Send Brienne as your representative of the North. I will send Ser Leon in representation of myself.” You said confidently. 

She nodded, looked down then back to you, “There is more than this. Bran and Arya have returned to Winterfell.” 

You smiled, genuinely. You felt happiness for once in a very long while. Knowing Arya was safe gave you great happiness. You looked at Sansa, grinning from ear to ear. You grabbed ahold of both her hands, “I am happy for you.” You spoke earnestly.

Sansa however looked conflicted “He says he is something called the three eyed raven.” 

“He sees visions?” You asked, you’d heard tales of such a thing but did not know if it were real. 

“Of the past and the present, it would seem.” She explained, she looked at you with sympathetic eyes, “You should talk to him. Relieve yourself of some of those uncertainties.” You nodded. 

You stood and looked out the window, you saw your men stationed in Winterfell. You felt once more the sting of responsibility. Then once more, I felt the weight of your sorrow. Conflicted with what others must have been saying. The maddened lady of grief. 

“What are they saying?” You asked, you looked behind you towards Sansa, “About me?” You clarified. 

“Stories of your bravery and loyalty towards your men and people have traveled far. They are calling you the relentless lady of the mountain and vale.” She smiled as she stepped towards you. 

“A generous lie.” You said, still convinced otherwise. 

She shook her head, “I’d not lie to you.” She said as she stepped closer, placing her hands on your shoulders, “Let’s dress you. I believe it is time you continued with your journey.”

You smiled, and nodded. You knew your duty. You knew your oath. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You walked along around the high walls of Winterfell. You looked down upon your men who had camped out front of the walls. Helping Northern houses with the preparations of the coming war. You smiled upon the Knights, you felt pride in them. You were not a northerner and yet still, you could feel the North's appreciation of your mens labors. 

“You’re a woman now.” You heard from behind you. As you turned around you saw Arya. She stood taller than the last time you'd seen her. Dressed in black leather and fur. 

You smiled, as you approached her, “I could say the same to you. Though you look more like a knight. It suits you.” You placed her hands on her shoulders, then ran them down to her hands. 

“Thank you.” She smiled and nodded. 

“I often wondered on you. How you were and what you were doing.” You spoke softly as your eyes took her in. Still surprised by how much she’d grown since you’d last seen her.

“If I was dead?” She asked bluntly, 

You stifled a laugh, “No. No, I knew you and your needle would survive. You’ve a brave heart.” You said as you looked at her sword.

“As do you.” She said as she removed her sword, handing it to you. You took it in hand and examined it. “Only a brave heart could love a Hound.” She said as you looked at it. Your eyes darted from the blade back to her,  

“Did Sansa tell you this?” You questioned her with narrow eyes.

She grinned as she shook her head, “No. He did.” You looked at her with interest as you handed her sword back to her. She put her sword back in its sheath “He took from the brotherhood. To sell me off to my mother and brother, then to aunt Lyssa. Though I suspect it was simply a ploy to get to you… I see it now.” She said as though she were proud of her observation. 

You looked down, “What did he say?” You asked, almost embarrassed to ask it. 

“He didn’t go on about it. Only that he failed you, and he cared for you.” 

“Were you there when he died?”

Her ever present grin faded, “I left him there.” 

You looked down, “It has taken a lot within me to hold my own bias aside. I understand he could be… abrasive. Hard for others to understand.” 

Arya felt herself feel a slight tinge of guilt, “He fought for me harder than I’d ever seen anyone fight.” She said, attempting to comfort you, “I didn’t like him. But I can respect that.” She nodded, you smiled softly. 

“You cannot tell anyone.” You commanded but it was practically a plea as you held onto her hand. 

“I won’t.” She shook her head. 

“I am so happy to see you.” You said with a smile, finally taking in the fact she was here. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Later in the courtyard you found Bran under the tree. You remembered what Sansa had said to you. You decided to see for yourself.

“Bran,” You announced your presence as you walked closer to him.

Bran looked over to you, “Cousin.” he stated stoically. 

You smiled at him, “How you’ve grown. You’re a man now.” 

“Almost.” He stated, again without emotion. 

You sighed uncomfortably. Unsure of how or if you could comfort him. So you decided not to. “Sansa tells me you called yourself the three eyed raven.”

“I am.” He stated confidently. 

You sat beside him, you smiled as you recounted a memory “I’d only heard stories of it, when I was a child. The ladies would tell me of it. Threaten that the three eyed raven would know if I were lying.” You looked at Bran, 

“I would.” He stated plainly. 

Your eyes narrowed in curiosity “Prove it.” you nearly whispered, 

You looked upon you for a moment, “You were with child. Once.” Your blood ran cold. You stared at him with shocked and horrified eyes. “Forced to drink a tea to end it. You wore a blue velvet robe, it had silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves.” He spoke emotionlessly.

“I was?” You asked, your voice wavered as you ignored the rest of his statement. You need not hear anything more. 

He nodded slowly “You were.”

You swallowed any emotion that rose. “Thank you.” You nodded. Now fully convinced in his ability, you knew what you had to ask him. “I need to know of my father.”

He looked at you, as if he was surprised you asked. “Littlefinger conspired with your aunt Lyssa to poison and kill your father. But you already knew that.”

You let out a huff, fighting tears, “I did.” you said softly.

“I’m sorry for what's happened to you.” He said earnestly,

“As I am for you.” You said mournfully.

He shook his head, “Don’t be. Or I’d not be what I am now.” You looked at him with concern, and confusion. But you soon understood what he meant. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor and Jon’s mission was a success. However it did have its losses. Daenerys Had lost a dragon and Sandor had lost Thoros. It was hard but they captured the Wright as intended. 

Sandor traveled with Jon to be sure his mission was completed and your cousin arrived safely. Soon enough he would be returning to Winterfell. 

At the front of the ship Jon and Tyrion stood as they looked upon Kings Landing approaching in the distance. 

“How many people live there?” Jon Asked,

“A million give or take.” Tyrion stated coldly.

“That’s more people than the entire North, crammed into that. Who would want to live that way?” Jon asked in disbelief.

“There's more work in the city. And the brothels are far superior.” Tyrion said as he scanned the other ships that had arrived for the meeting. He saw an Arryn ship in the distance. “I see Littlefinger has arrived.”

Jon shook his head, “That ship sails for Lady Arryn.” Tyrion's uncaring demeanor dropped, “The colors are inverted, it’s her claims support.” Jon stated.

“So the stories were true?” Tyrion takes a step closer to the edge of the ship to get a better look.

“Aye.” Jon said, he looked at Tyrion looking off at your ship longingly “You were betrothed to each other?” He asked, uncomfortably.

“We were.” Tyrion stated stoically, 

“You loved her?” Jon questioned.

“Might have.” Tyrion said, though he knew he did.

Jon huffed, “You and the rest of the men on this ship it would seem.” 

Tyrion, not knowing what he meant, looked behind him at Tormund and Sandor who looked off at your ship longing just as he was. Though all three would be equally disappointed to find out you sent a Knight to represent you rather than appear yourself. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

When in KingsLanding Sandor was in charge of transporting the Wright.

A Lannister Guard approached Sandor,

“What's in there?” The Guard questioned,

Sandor looked back at the man, surprised someone was questioning him, “Fuck off.” He said annoyingly. 

Sandor then saw a tall blonde woman, the very one that almost killed him. 

Brienne approached him as they walked, 

“Thought you were dead.” She stated bluntly,

“Not yet. You came pretty close.” He acknowledged her ability.

“I was only trying to protect her.” Brienne tried to defend herself.

“You and me both.” Sandor sighed, 

“She’s alive.” Brienne said, Sandor looking at her in surprise, “Arya.”

“Where?” He asked looking ahead, pretending not to care.

“Winterfell.”

“Who’s protecting her if you're here?” He questioned, 

“The only one who needs protecting is the one that gets in her way.” She said with a smirk, shared by Sandor at the thought. Brienne then looked at Sandor once again, “As the same goes with Lady (Y/N).” He looked at her with surprise, “She’s scowled at me ever since she heard I killed you. I assumed it meant something, but I was right.” She sighed.

Sandor looked away trying to remain composed, “She alright?” He questioned, 

“No. Though you don’t get names like (Y/N), the brave, the unrelenting, the unconquerable, or the Inured without suffering a great deal.” Brienne said, Sandor felt guilt wash over him again,

“What happened?” Sandor asked, still looking ahead. 

“You’ll have to ask her.” Breinne said, knowing that soon he and you would meet again. 

Sandor looked at her once more and smiled.

That was until the Lannister guards approached Sandor and the Box the Wright remained in.

“Anyone touches it, I’ll kill you first.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You looked out of your chamber window to see Jon Snow and his armies returning. You tried to look for Ser Leon through a voice behind you interrupted your attempt to do so.

“My Lady,” You turned around to see another knight of the Vale, you smiled and nodded for him to continue, “I am to announce the arrival of Jon Snow and Daenerys Stormborn.” He said, 

“Where is Lady Sansa?” You asked, knowing she’d not be happy with the arrival of an outsider. 

“Already waiting at the gates, my Lady.” He said,

“We shall join her.” You said as you continued on through the door, on your way to join your cousin.

The Knight nodded, “Yes, my Lady.” He said as he followed you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You saw Sansa alongside Bran waiting at the Gates. You approached her, 

“You don’t look happy.” You said as you locked your arm around hers. 

She smiled slightly at you, “Neither do you.” 

You shrugged, “I am hard to please, I suppose.” You looked out at the crowds of men entering Winterfell, “But your brother has returned with a large army for your people. That should please you.” You said as you rubbed her arm with your hand. 

She sighed, “He returned with a new Queen, one I don’t know and do not trust. One who wishes to rule this very Kingdom.” She scoffed. 

You shrugged again, “Yes, well I suppose that is problematic.” You said as two large dragons flew overhead. 

You’d never seen anything so large and magnificent take to the sky. You smiled as you watched the three dragons fly with one another through the sky. 

“Hard to please?” Sansa said looking at how taken you were by the sight. 

“I’ve never seen one before, much less two. You must admit it is extraordinary.” You said without looking at her, still looking at the dragons in the sky. You finally looked at her, “A little.” you shrugged, 

“A clear presentation of her power.” She said irritated. 

“Well… If you got it…” You attempted to reason but she gave you a scowl that made you stop. “Apologies.” You said. As you saw your cousin ride into Winterfell, you felt it was not your place to welcome an outsider into Winterfell. Especially since you yourself were outside. “I’ll leave you to make a proper introduction.” You smiled at her, trying to get her to lighten up. 

As you walked back into the castle you heard a familiar voice speak, 

“(Y/N)?” Tyrion spoke, “Or, do you prefer Lady of the Vale, now?” He breathed a chuckle but he was fighting back heartbreaking emotion.  

You felt the guilt you felt long ago surge again, “Tyrion. Or do you prefer Hand of the Queen?” You jested in return. 

He took a step towards you, “It would seem you are acting as hand to the Queen of the north said by some.”

You shook your head, “We are kin… we are close. But that is all.” 

“Two women betrothed to me who ran away.” He jested, self deprecatingly. 

“Don’t feel too bad about it. We both suffered for it.” You said earnestly.

He shook his head, “I did not want you to suffer. I never did.” 

“I know. I did suffer though. I still am.” You said quietly. 

“You don’t have to. You don’t have to stay here.” He said walking closer to you.

“Where would I go?” You asked, as if his idea were ridiculous. His eyes however told a different story. You could see the emotion, the longing, “No.” You said recoiling from him. 

He followed you, “I have loved you since I first saw you.” He pleaded

“Please don’t.” You winced at the word ‘love’.

He grabbed your hand, “I have to know where you went, and why.” 

You huffed, not wanting to do this. Not wanting to have this conversation. But knowing that the truth would hurt him, it would also set him free. “I left with Sandor Clegane. He took me with the intention of delivering me to my aunt Catelyn Stark.” You said bluntly.

“Why would he take you?” 

“You know why.” You said with furrowed brows, he then looked down, you could see the pain that he felt wash over his face. You sighed “I’m sorry. I am, I tried to love you in the way you wanted, the way that was demanded of me by duty and I couldn’t. I have no doubt that you would have been a doubting and loyal husband. And maybe if we were married I would have found peace. But when he asked me to leave with him I couldn’t help it, I loved him. I never felt that way for anyone.” You walked towards him once more, “You were a dear friend to me.” You held his hand, “Very dear, you gave me consideration no else did.” 

“I would have given you everything- anything.” You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. Perhaps both. 

“I can get it myself.” You said. Never willing to ever use your hand as a bargaining chip for land or armies again. 

“That is your way, I suppose. The reason I-“ 

You interrupted him before he could say he loved you once more, “You wouldn’t want me. You wouldn’t, not really. I am pigheaded and my ambitions are large. We would argue all the time, every time we spoke in Kings Landing it was a debate. Neither of us would be happy.” You blurted out. Just wishing he would see it your way.  

“Anything more?” He asked pained, 

“No.” You said. He began to walk away, “Except that-” You called out, making him turn around towards you. He nodded wanting to hear what you had to say. You took a breath, “With him gone, Tyrion… I do not believe I will ever wed. Ever find love truly. I don’t believe I will ever carry a child in me, and I don’t believe I will ever be happy.” You shook your head. 

He smiled, though clearly upset. “I think you are very wrong about that. I think you will see that very soon. And I will watch.” His smile faded and he walked away. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Later that day Podrick walked with you on the high walls of Winterfell. You and he were tasked by Lady Sansa to take further inventory of the new armies for the coming war. As you walked along the wall you heard a loud Caw! Of a Falcon. You looked to the sky and saw Lenaera. You grabbed an armored glove that laid against other supplies by the wall. She landed on your gloved hand. She fluttered her wings happily and you smiled as you pet her feathers on her head. 

By chance you peered down at the courtyard to see a tall and large man staring at you. A man who thought was dead. 

“Podrick?” You said, your eyes wide.

“Yes, my Lady?” Podrick asked,

“Am I dead?” You asked sincerely, 

“N-no, My Lady.” Podrick responded concernedly 

“Dreaming?” You asked again, bluntly. 

“No, My Lady.” Podrick again responded with concern, 

“You told me the Hound was dead.” You said, Podrick looked down to where you looked and saw the man standing there. Soon his eyes went wide as well. 

“I thought he was.” He said shocked. 

“Take Laenera.” You said placing her on his arm.

“Yes, my Lady-” He said before Lenaera’s talons dug into his leather sleeves, “Ah!” He hissed as you dropped the glove and ran into the castle. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

You gathered your skirts up as you made hast down the stairs within the castle. As you were running down the hall, you saw a tall and large man running down the same hall from the opposite end. You both stopped at the same time, as if the sight of the other paralyzed the other. You felt like you were looking at a ghost of the man you loved. Your hands released your skirts as you let out a sharp and painful breath. 

He stared at you, his eyes filled with emotion, “That fucking birds yours?” 

You didn’t respond, still in shock by the man before you. Sandors demeanor calmed, became more earnest, “I heard you were here. Didn’t want to let myself believe it. ‘Case it were horse shit.” He said taking some steps towards you, though he stopped when he saw the tears in your eyes well.

You let out another curt breathe as you held in your tears, a wave of emotion crashed against your form as you heard his voice for the first time in so long. “I heard you were dead.” You said walking closer to him, “I thought you were dead.” A tear fell from your eye, stepping closer “I believed you were dead.” You stopped, your emotion taking hold of you, “You were dead, I-I-” You shook your head unable to understand. 

Sandor stepped towards you, closing the space that remained, “I’m not.” He held your face in his hands, you noticed they were rougher than before. “I’m here.” He said gentler than you were used to. You placed your hands on top of his that held your face. “I’m not leaving.” He continued to comfort you. 

It took you a moment to realize you were somewhat out in the open. Any Lady or Lord could walk down the hall the two of you stood there. You weren’t used to that. Being in the open with your affection. He would sneak into your chambers in the early hours of the morn or the late hours of the night. Never this. But, there were no more Lannisters, no more Littlefinger, no more Bolton, there was no other person or house that would threaten your status or standing. No one to hold your virtue over your head. So, you did not care.

“You needed me.” He said assertively as if he were angry with himself.

He wiped the tear from your cheek with his thumb, You blinked hard. Swallowing your emotions and taking a breath. Grounding yourself. You nodded, “I did. But I had myself.” You placed a hand on his cheek, “But, I still need you.” You nearly whispered, You looked around for a moment, the hall was still empty but for how long? You looked to your side and noticed you and he were coincidently standing beside the door to your chambers. You held onto his wrist with one of your hands, you pulled him along. “Come inside and be alone with me.” You said in a quiet voice what some might think of a seductive voice. 

As you entered your chambers, he closed your door, “Lock it.” You said not realizing how bold it seemed, “Many forget to knock on my door.” You explained as you took a pitcher of water from a table by your door, walking over to the fireplace and extinguishing the fire, to make him more comfortable. 

“I can make sure they don’t forget.” He said with a possessive and protective tone. 

You missed it, you hadn’t heard it in so long. You walked with haste towards him, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. He in return, wrapped his thick arms around you. He lifted you up as your lips met. 

They met for the first time in so long. Your lips, as well as his, were cold from the northern air. But the heat from his tongue warmed you. 

“Are you staying?” You asked breathlessly as you pulled away from his kiss. You searched his eyes, with your own. You missed his gaze dearly.

He nodded, breathless, “With you.” He said, putting you down, “I’ll go where you go.” He vowed.

“I’ve never seen you without armor.” You smiled looking over him as your hands ran over the leather top he wore. 

“You have.” He said candidly

Your gazes blinked up to his, “I mean… real clothing.” You said holding back a laugh, “You look handsome.” You said earnestly.

“Fuck off.” He said dismissively, looking away from you, assuming you were lying. 

You placed a hand on his scarred cheek. Redirecting his gaze back towards you. His eyes looked into yours seeing that you were honest “I missed you.” You said almost dreamily with an absent minded smile as you gazed upon the face you thought you’d never see again. Your smile faded a bit, you shook your head, “I can’t begin to… explain how terrible it was.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked down. “I know.” He was disappointed in himself, “I thought of you.” He said looking back into your eyes, “A lot.” He admitted.

As you gazed into his soft eyes, you knew he should know. He should know about the babe. He should know the things LittleFinger did. The kiss he forced on you. He should know of Ramsay, he should know of your journey. “There’s things I should tell you.” You said almost shamefully.

Sandors eyes hardened, “You fuck that ginger?” He questioned, 

“Gods no!” You said with disgust, you answered quickly, surprised by the question. “His attempts at wooing me have grown constant and boring.” You rolled your eyes, then settled your gaze on him once again “I’d only ever thought of one man.” Your tone is softer.

“He said he wants make fucking babies with you.” He sneered, not angry at you but at the man. He loved you like he loved no one, and he knew he was not the only one.

“You sound jealous.” You said teasingly.

“I am.” He said with a snarl. 

“You needn’t be.” You said in a whisper into his lips as you kissed him again. “Let me look at you.” You said running your hands from his face, down to his chest, “you’ve let your beard go.” You said in a melancholy tone. 

All the time that had passed truly had gotten away from Sandor. It was then that the emotion hit him. Sandor dropped to his knees. Placed his hands against the small of you back, pushing you forward as he rested his head against your belly. 

he was desperate, 

you’d never seen him like this. You held his head in your hands, running your fingers through his hair. 

“It’s alright.” You whispered, you understood how he was feeling. Feeling that he failed you.

“It’s not.” he whispered back. 

“We can start again.” You said as you petted his hair,  “We could be together, truly, never hiding.” You said like you were dreaming of it right then and there. 

He hummed against your stomach, “I’m not a man of honor.” He said as though he were shameful of himself.

“Men of honor die all the same, I’d rather be with you.” You spoke softly as your hands sweetly ran through his hair, and your other rubbed circles against his back, “Do you not wish for me to be your wife?” You asked, scared for the answer, but needing it all the same.

He shook his head, “I wish it for me, not for you.”

You shook your head and huffed, “Look at us. this isn’t wrong. how could something that feels so good be wrong? You are no longer a piece on a board in Kings Landing. Nor am I. I don’t know about you but I refuse to be one again. Let me be yours and be mine.” You felt silly for  opening yourself up like this, in a way you’d never had before. But it was something you had to do. You couldn’t allow for the same cycle you and he fell into King's Landing to continue. “When you were gone, I went to war and felt no fear. No fear because if I died I would see you. I’d be with you again. I cannot go back to wishing for moments with you. I wish for a life with you because I love you and I need you. If you love me then don’t leave me again.” You pleaded softly.

He was silenced for a moment, but then, his hands traveled tighter around your back. He looked up at you, “Be my wife.” He pleaded, his love seeping through his gruff tone.

“Yes.” You said, sweetly. You let out a small gasp as you felt his rough, large hand trail up your leg, “Yes,” you whispered to him, his eyes remaining connected to yours, his hand trailed up to your inner thigh, “Yes… yes” You continued to whispered against his movements, his fingers sneaking their way under your small clothes and toying with your sex “Yes…yes…yes-“ your whispers becoming louder, more breathless and closer to a whine. You ran fingers from his hair to his scarred cheek, you carassed it as you moaned, “My husband-Ah!” you were cut off as his finger slid inside of you, forcing a moan out of you. You grasped his scarred face harder as he did so, 

“Say it again.” He rasped as he pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt.

You caught your breath as he hiked your skirts up and over his head, You could feel his beard scratching at your inner thighs, “My husban-nnnd” your voice hitched and drawn out into a moan as you felt his breathe graze across your cunt, soon feeling the heat of his tongue as it lapped up your sweetness. He sucked on your clit as his fingers found your sweet spot, pushing against your velvet walls. It had been so long since you felt someone know your body so well, and he didn't forget a thing about it. You felt the tightness in your belly finally release. As you reached your peak you cried out. Sandor drank you in groaning and fucking his fingers even deeper into you. “Sandor,” you whined, “I need, I need more.” You said with furrowed brows as you gripped onto his head beneath your skirts.

As he stood, his mouth crashed into yours. You could taste your own release on his lips.  His kiss was desperate, and passionate. Making up for all the times he wished he could have done it. His hands roamed your body erratically and roughly. 

He began to kiss down your jaw and neck, “I’ve missed your tongue.” you said breathlessly with a smirk and heavy eyes. 

He licked up from your neck to your ear, making you moan. “Let me see you.” He spoke in your ear as he untied the back of your dress, though his large hands could hardly figure out the fragile ties.

You felt a sting of insecurity. 

You looked down, as your hands aided Sandor in untying your gown. He continued to kiss and lick at your body slowly as more and more of your skin was revealed. Until you were left in your small clothes. Your scars showed, the one on your thigh, the one on your forearm, and even others that had come with time and war. Sandors eyes trailed over you, longingly. 

“You don’t have to look.” You said as you looked down, somewhat ashamed of the scars you had earned valiantly. “I know I hurt to look at.” 

Sandor stepped towards you, his eyes confused and bewildered. “Fuck are you on about? Feel me.” He said with furrowed brows. You looked confused for a moment until your hand trailed down from his stomach to his mounting bulge, he let out a groan. He hadn’t felt your touch in so long, and you hadn’t felt a man's body in so long, or wanted to. Your eyes snapped from his hardening, hot, and throbbing bulge that your hand caressed, to his gaze. Deeply lustful and full of longing. “Does that feel like you hurt to look at.” He asked as his hand grasped your jaw. His lips connected to your own, his facial hair tickled in a familiar and delightful way. As your mouths danced together you felt his tongue aching for the warmth of yours. To which you happily complied. You could taste yourself on his tongue, it made you all the more wet. As you did he pulled off your small clothes, practically ripping them off. 

He stood there looking at your naked body, he let out a groan and you rubbed his hardened cock through his pants again.

“You’re not a woman, take your own clothes off.” You said assertively as you brushed past him laying down on your bed. He let out a dry chuckle as he obeyed your command. 

You laid on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him. You bent one of your legs bringing your knee close to your chest as you pressed your slick thighs together.  

He climbed on top of you. Kissing you once more. Passionately, slowly. Taking in the pleasure of your soft and plush lips, relishing in the taste that he missed so deeply.  His tongue met yours in tandem as his hands ran over your body erratically. As if he couldn’t believe you were underneath him again, he didn’t know where to start with you but he knew how much he wanted all of it. His attention was soon directed to your breasts. He’d missed them dearly. Thought of them as he worked himself in the late hours of the night. 

He slid down and took them in his mouth. Sucking at your breasts, biting them in just the way you liked. As he did you wrapped your legs around his hard back, and rocked your hips against his hard stomach, attempting to soothe the growing ache in your core. 

The sounds of your moans created made him even harder than could bare “I can’t wait anymore, I want my woman. My wife.” His voice was dark and deep.

You nodded as he kissed your lips, 

You kissed passionately, your lips swollen and wanting. As your lips met, and your tongues found one another again. You felt the head of his cock, already leaking, begin to press against your entrance. As he pushed in you felt the burn of the stretch. You  almost forgot how large he was. You gasped and winced, Sandor stopped himself from moving for a moment, looking at you to see if you were alright.

You gripped onto his shoulder digging your nails into him, “It’s been a long time.” You explained. 

He nodded as he brushed your hair out of your face, “Too fucking long.” He said, holding back a moan from the pure euphoria of your cunt.

“You haven't taken another?” You asked breathlessly, possibly not the best time. 

He shook his head, and in return you held his face and kissed him deeply. “I want all of it.” You whispered into his ear. 

He complied, happily. Pushing his cock into your until he was completely inside of you. 

You muffled your moans into his neck as you clung onto his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his back. “Fuck!” He barked, “Gods you’re tight, does it hurt?” He asked. 

It did, it burned, and you were almost overwhelmed. But Gods, it was perfect. You needed it, badly. 

“Husband,” You pleaded into his lips, the words made his cock twitch inside of you, “fuck me.” You whined as you kissed him deeply. 

As he thrusted in and out of you with the built up lust and longing he had inside of him. You bit down on his lip as he moaned out. You threw your head back, unable to hold in your moans any longer. 

He took pleasure in thrusting in you harder to hear you cry out even louder. “Fuck! I missed your cunt, your sweet fucking cunt!” He grunted, he felt you clench around him harder and harder, “Give it to me!” He groaned, “I want my wife to cum.” He grunted through gritted teeth. 

“Yes!” You pleaded as his pace only became more and more furious and erratic, “Ah!” You shouted as you felt yourself release a second time,

“That’s it-” He groaned as he felt your release cover his cock, making it only easier for his cock to slip in and out with ease. It made your cunt even more euphoric, he could hold himself in any longer, 

“I want it inside of me,” You begged breathlessly, 

“Good.” He groaned against your skin, “Cause I want to fill my wife with my seed.” He said through gritted teeth. 

You kissed him deeply as he did just that. He moaned into your mouth as he spilled his hot seed inside of you deeply. Driving you towards another release you didn’t know was there.

After... You laid there, breathing. Trying to catch your breath. Sandor laid there with his head resting against your chest. Listening to your heartbeat. You ran your fingers through his hair. 

You laid there in each other's arms for what felt like a lifetime. But you didn’t want it to end.

Soon Sandor spoke again, “That ginger cunt says you killed a man.” His voice was so gruff and deep it almost startled you after basking in the silence for so long.

“I did.” You said stoically.

“That makes two men you’ve killed.” He said as if he were proud.

“Five.” You corrected, he looked up at you from your chest, “Six if you’re counting the one from the riot.” You said petting his cheek,

“I am.” He said, he looked surprised by you.

“Six then.” You nodded, “Killed four men in the battle. Then I killed Ramsay.” 

“How’d you do it?” He asked, genuinely interested. 

“Ramsay? Hounds.” You smirked, noting the irony. 

Sandor chuckled at it as well, “You’re different now.”

“Is that bad?” You asked, running your fingers down his back comfortingly.

“No.” He shook his head, “None of it would have happened if I was there.” He said as though he were disappointed in himself.

“I know.” You were confident it wouldn’t have. But it did, and it was no one's fault but those who committed the acts against you. 

Sandor took your forearm, looked at the scar, Lyssa left you with. 

“What happened?” He asked protectively, wanting to know who he’d have to kill.

You sighed, “It’ll be a hard thing to hear.” You said sitting up. You wrapped yourself in fur as you laid beside him once more, “You’ll be angry. Furious even. I know because I feel the same way. But this once, just feel the sorrow with me.” You asked him, he nodded. 

And so you did. You told him your story. How you were attacked by Lyssa. How Baelish forced you to end your pregnancy. How he attempted to force himself on you. How he killed your aunt. How Ramsay tormented you. You told him of the Battle, you told him of Ser Cole. You told him everything. 

Sandor was silent for just a moment. Until he sat up “I’ll kill hi-” 

You interrupted his anger as you sat up with him. “No anger. Not here. Not our first night.” You pleaded as you held his face in your hand. Calming him. 

He held onto your wrist, “I will take care of you.” He said earnestly, “I’ll protect you.” He vowed.

“You can’t. No one can.” You shook your head. 

He looked at you. Saddened that you’d no longer believe in that promise. “I will.” He vowed.

You, still, unbelieving, nodded. You leaned towards him, and rested your forehead against his own.  

You didn’t want to love him this much. And he didn’t want to love you this much. And yet here you both were. Your love was formidable, unrelenting, and merciless. There was not a thing in the known world you’d not do for him. And not a thing in this known world that he’d not do for you. 

You had an army and now, you had your man. Now that all left to do was to go and get what you were owed.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE: It's no use (Y/N) we gotta have it out.  Also you cannot tellll me that mf wouldn’t pull out the “My Wife” card every chance he got like…. That's all. Also got I feel like I am finally free and can write smut again thank god. We are about to have our own version of the royal wedding lmao K love you, xoxo

Bambi

Beloved Tags:

@dontfollowjuststuff @merfic @broadsdrinkwhisky  @vikingswhore0

@the-queen-of-sorrows @eddiesbongwater @not-neverland06  @symonedoesart 

@wyvernnest @bdudette @frosch-thefrog @patrick-hockstutter @vikingswhore0 @drymushroomfics @dream-a-little-nightmare @lavenderbreeze3

[dolliels]

I'VE BECOME THE FIANCÉ OF THE VILLAIN?!

leona x gn reader

synopsis: going to bed after reading a horribly self indulgent romance novel, you seemed to wake up as an extra of the series. what stories will unfold while on a mission to find a way out?

author’s note: this is a mini series. no idea if i'll finish it tho.

[one] [two] [three] [four] [epilogue]

the whirring of the fan was the only other sound that you could other than your nail tapping on your phone. 

it’s been a full day now and you’ve done nothing except lie on your couch and read a horribly self indulgent novel. the weather was too hot and the chewed up popsicle stick flung around in your mouth.

I’ve become the fiancé of a villain?! was an all-time hit novel, written by an anonymous writer. you’ve heard about it and the plot clearly interested you, but there were only 5 chapters when you discovered it so you let it marinate for a while. today you found out it was completed, so you sat down and spent your entire day reading.

much to your disappointment, the story sucked.

it was about the main character, roselia, who fell asleep in the middle of class and woke up in the middle of a fantasy world that she wrote when she was bored!

leona kingscholar, a jealous second-born son who wanted to be king more than anything, devises a plan to kill his older brother. fortunately, roselia wrote the story so she knew leona like the back of her hand. unfortunately, she was the betrothed fiancé of leona, someone he took advantage of to execute his plan. when she found out about his goal of murdering the king, the fiance tried to warn everyone and leona finds out, killing her. the novel focused on roselia trying her best to not get murdered and falling in love with leona in the process.

it wasn’t like the idea was bad, you’ve read thousands of stories like that before and enjoyed them all. it’s just that this one was incredibly self-indulgent, with leona’s cold, merciless eyes that turn into metaphorical hues of warmth when he sees the girl he used to hate, the girl he was reluctantly betrothed to, the girl who is now the woman of his dreams. (you almost threw up reading that)

how was this novel even popular? with plans to complain about it tomorrow, you passed out on your bed.

birds chirped and you soaked in the warmth of the sun. you felt incredibly gross and dirty that morning, and wanted to freshen up. heading to the bathroom, you tumbled your way to the door (was the floor always this slippery?) as you groggily looked into the mirror, you saw yourself………..? huh? is that you? wait no, you don’t look like that…. what?!

after much looking around, you figured that this wasn’t your body (obviously) but you were you, and the body you were in definitely wasn’t what you remembered looking like the other night. you examined your face carefully, you frowned. what is this? some sort of isekai? it has to be. but that sounds completely unreal! aren’t isekai’s…fake? you felt way too overpowered knowing what an isekai even is in the first place. most leads in these novels don’t know what the word means at all. you felt too advantaged.

what crazy novel were you reading…?

you frowned until an imaginary light bulb popped up.

i’ve become the fiancé of the villain!

does that mean you’re roselia…?

no, that couldn’t be right. roselia woke up in a grand but empty bedroom that she shared with leona. you… woke up in a boring commoner’s room.

you looked around your messy bedroom, trying to gather any hints of who you are and what you do.

after rummaging through the entire house, you concluded three things.

1. you ran a small bookstore. which is honestly a win because you’ve always wanted to run one without financially skinning you alive. you seem to be stable so that’s a pro in your head.

2. you were just some character extra that didn’t matter to the plot.

3. you were assigned to stock up some books for the royal library. the kingscholar royal library.

from reading the novel, you knew leona did nothing but stay in the castle all day. that gives you a glimmer of hope that you’d see roselia.

the things, there are two possibilities as to where the story is going.

the first possibility is that the roselia in this universe is the roselia that you read in the novel. which is more likely, because it is the story that you read.

the second possibility is that this may be the original story and you might be the only person in this whole story that has been isekai’d. which means leona would kill her eventually.

either way, you had a strong feeling that roselia was the key for you to get back home. and that was the only thing that was on your mind right now. and no, you are not going to be like those other leads that just settle for a life in another universe that does not belong to them. you are determined to go back.

on that fateful morning you luckily packed the boxes of books the day before, or any other day, you can’t recall anything in your current self. but the person who held consciousness of this body already packed the books, which means you should be able to just drive your cart to the castle. the castle is huge and you can see from your window. there should be no problem getting the, right?

-

“…you’re late.”

you huff and puff as you bend your knees. you got lost as to where to go and ended up carrying the boxes of books yourself around the place before finding the area.

“i’m sorry. i got lost.”

“lost? you’re never lost. you’ve been here plenty of times.”

you had no excuse for that. but whatever, you got the job done, right?

the man with neat blue hair clicked his tongue and scratched something off of his paper.

“well?” he said, staring you down.

“well what?”

“aren’t you gonna go bring the books inside?”

oh, right.

-

you weren’t a huge bookworm, unless you count the copious amounts of isekai novels you’ve read. but looking at the glamorous library, it suddenly made you thirst for all books that exists, even the classics, something you’ve tried to enjoy but struggled to fully digest. hey, don’t blame anyone! thou shall not lie, thou shall not cheat aren’t the best ways to use english in the modern world.

as you stack the books into the shelves, you find yourself browsing through the already existing books, browsing your fingers across the spines, feeling each and every gold brim.

maybe this world isn’t as bad.

you were originally under the assumption that you had to just drop off the books and go, but you soon found out that you’re also responsible for the library archive, not like you needed to keep track anyway.

you sighed and smiled. so a small bookstore wasn’t enough to hold you up financially after all. you ended up getting a side in the royal palace of all places! the pay must be pretty good.

you know… as you think back, you remember roselia coming into the library, attempting to find any other information of escape and accidentally bumping into the book stocker… could that possibly be you?

then that means roselia is bound to bump into you any moment!

as you eagerly keep your eye out for the pretty princess, you take your time putting the books away. there should be no problem how long you take, right?

“hey.”

roselia? no. the voice is gruff, and deep. that… no. roselia is definitely a girl… so that is not the lady you are waiting for.

you turn around.

leona kingscholar. 

he’s exactly as he’s described. the novel mentions leona’s good looks so much it was practically shoved in your face. but you felt like the words itself couldn’t properly describe his beauty.

he had the kind of hair that gently parts around his shoulders, comfortably setting itself down on top, a sleek, shiny glow to it that is only prominent and glittery at certain angles of the sun, making you want to stare at his hair alone even more.

his skin was smooth, almost doll-like with little to absolutely no imperfections. it scrunched up perfectly, creating deliberate folds across his face as his eyebrows pursed together, frowning. his emerald-esque eyes staring directly at you. he looked like the kind of guy you’d want to make a good impression to.

unfortunately, you don’t look like you’re doing your job, with a book open and a box full of them that haven’t been organized yet, and your mouth… was agape. it seems like you forgot that you are actually in the universe, looking directly at what you deemed to be the handsomest man you have ever met.

you seemed to thank the skies and above for gracing you with an opportunity to be able to place your eyes on someone so perfect that your brain completely lagged.

you had to remind yourself, leona is not real! and you won’t ever see his kind of beauty anywhere in the real world. he’s a fictional character!

suddenly, you felt like you were pulled back into reality.

oh right, in the novel, leona is actually a huge dick in the novel!

before leona fell in love with roselia, he was demanding, lazy and scheming. he was smart, and used his wits for his own gain (ultimately leading to roselia and his brother’s demise in the original story.)

speaking of, where is roselia?

you distinctly remember that roselia was supposed to bump into you and then afterwards leona walks in on her.

it seemed as if the story was going as planned, but without roselia.

“well?” the same voice caught you alert again, and you remembered that you had to act like a normal person.

“oh. uh. hello…?”

you didn’t know what to say. you spent the entirety of the day before in your world reading about him, his backstory and everything else that talking to him as if he’s a treasure box to be unlocked was surreal.

“hello? hello??” leona scoffed. “first, you’re not doing your job properly, snooping around the royal collection and no etiquette remaining at all.”

you bowed down, trying to look as shameful as possible. there was no hierarchical respect for him lingering at all. you assume this is because you saw him as a fictional character first and foremost.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“psh.” he replied, waving his hand back. “hurry up. I’ll come back later.”

you snickered to yourself as leona walked away. the clacking of his fancy shoes on the glass floors echoing throughout the library. when you snorted, you heard the walking pause then continue again, as if leona heard the laugh but wasn’t bothered enough to say anything.

-

you sat in your chair, frowning, your elbow propped up against the table under your chin.

it has been nearly a week since you woke up in this world so far, and you haven’t seen roselia anywhere.

of course, roselia being a princess after all, rarely ever left the palace, but in the novel, the new roselia went out and about in many places.

after you were able to catch up to the timeline when leona walked into the library, you tried to follow your memory as much as possible and wasted your time lurking in places roselia should’ve been at.

could this possibly not be the novel you read after all? maybe… this roselia isn’t the roselia you know.

you shake your head. your hopes were diminishing, but it wasn’t like there was no hope at all!

plus, the bookstore you ran had minimal conversations, people would browse through and purchase. this meant you had all the time in the world to try and figure out other alternatives.

cling

the bell of the door clang a few times before quieting down. the array of bookshelves blocked your few from seeing whoever entered, but you could hear the pitter patter of rain hitting the ground outside when the door opened. you hoped they didn’t get anything wet.

“welcome!”

no reply.

you shrugged and went back to scribbling down on your paper.

stomp, stomp, stomp

you looked up. something was oddly out of place.

holding the nearest weapon you had (a paper cutter, ridiculous.) you slowly got out of your seat in between the many shelves of your bookstore.

the paper cutter firmly between your hands, you pointed it out just in case.

“who’s… who’s in here?”

no reply.

stomp, stomp, stomp

“I said… who’s in here?”

no reply, but you heard an annoyed grunt.

BOOM!

just as the thunders outside clashed, you finally reached the last shelf to see a figure entirely hidden by the lightning.

as it died down, you saw the trail of blood on the floor under your soft yellow lights and an injured man who stood right in front of you.

before you could react, the man completely slumped to the ground, giving you an opportunity to safely approach him.

you lifted the familiar locks of chocolatey brown hair to see… leona kingscholar. bloodied, injured and unconscious.

TO BE CONTINUED...

an: lowkey really got into the story rather than the romance... oops. if this fic receives well i'll focus on romance on the next part :)

[kifkay]

I love when magic has an effect on the body & soul of its caster. like!! you don’t get to be a reality-bending demi-god and walk away with no strings attached. there’s always a price.

Bloom’s dragon fire consumes her from the inside, leaving lightning-like tissues of scars along her limbs - be careful, rumbles the Great Dragon from within, don’t let your emotions consume you. Bloom wails from the pain and clutches whoever is in the vicinity - but cannot fully stop it. just prevent it or treat the aftermath.

Musa gets migraines. Stella becomes ill when she doesn’t get her daily dose of sunshine. Aisha’s senses get muddy sometimes, almost as if she’s submerged underwater. Nabu experiences uncontrollable tremors in his arms, when he creates too many of his phantoms. all of those are - yes, horrible to experience but manageable enough for the school (and the Magic community at large) to tell them to just suck it up and weather through.

once you get your enchantix though, you start developing… unique abilities. almost like, in achieving the final fairy form, you became one with your brand of magic.

Bloom starts producing smoke. Like - she snorts at something funny Riven or Sky say, and literal puffs of smoke emerge from her nose. It’s jarring at first (“Bloom Peters, when did you start smoking? do you know that it kills??”) but quickly becomes endearing once they realise it’s not life-threatening in any way (after speed-running through like fifteen Magix apothecaries). Among her other ‘oddities’: too hot to cuddle with (only Stella can stand the high temperature, since she has a resistance to heat), becomes strangely overprotective and a little possessive, her eyes sometimes become a startling orange hue as if she’s embodied by the great dragon himself (it’s just a party trick).

Stella becomes more ethereal. In certain lights, her skin looks translucent - like a mirage weaved with moonlight. Her hair glints in the sun, almost too bright to like at; her touch feels phantom-like. She becomes even more beautiful, but less - human, earth-bound, Stella-esque. A curse and a blessing, that one.

Musa’s hearing gets really fucking good. She has a steadily growing dossier of blackmail on every student in Alfea - simply because shut doors or longer distances are no longer obstacles for her. It’s annoying too, because she can’t exactly turn it off - and now she gets to hear all the things people say about her, behind her. but here’s a consolation - she can influence other creature’s emotions through the melodies she hums! like how in canon, she pacified the bird Roc and brought mirth to the arguing fairies.

Flora gets much sturdier. Her skin harder than bark; her body able to withstand thirst and hunger for much longer than the rest. It’s honestly so intimidating. Here’s this sweet young woman — known to cry for trampled flowers and cut weeds!! — absolutely bodying a sharp ass ice shard that Icy attacked her with. It just — crumbles upon colliding with Flora’s body. insane and frankly so so hot for others to see.

As per the negatives… I like the idea of Flora being able to connect to the memories of nature around her and literally absorb the pain/fear/anguish of whatever she witnessed.

Aisha and Bloom are similar, in a sense that both of them are vessels to primordial divinities of their universe — Bloom is the holder of the Dragon Flame, and Aisha is the child of the Infinite Ocean. therefore, both experience a more extreme transformation than their girl friends. like, Aisha’s dreams are infiltrated by visions of past and future; memories of those who were lost to the Ocean. she dreams of Politea, of Tritanus, of her mer cousins and ancestors, and even those who were not yet born. if Aisha was not so mentally wilful, she might’ve folded under the weight of those prophesies.

Aisha can also breathe under water and her body gets the musculature it needs to be on par with her mer cousins while swimming, because why the fuck not?

Tecna - I frankly have no ideas for and would love to hear suggestions!

[noeggets]

still figuring stuff out here, part of me wanted to make Shade and Amy the same person but i like Shade's character and i want her to be her own person

Knuckles life tied to that one HC i have, i want (Prime) Thorn to be in the Echidna's somehow and that's how Amy is decendent of Echidna's so maybe Knuckles didn't just find her she was born on angel island before Thorn escaped it maybe? When Chaos made the island go up in the sky maybe for some reason Thorn jumped and stayed in the ruins when it was apart of the land idk i'll have to come up with a reason for her to leave, maybe she's still on the island she has her bird idk

As for Shade i'll have to do some reworking of her tribe but i was thinking something along the lines of the master is leeching the chaos power either from them or to make his soldiers stronger they have tech that forcefully makes them use their own chaos energy and it's sucking the life out of them to do it and that's why Shade is skinny, she eventually gets out of that and since she has a strong since of duty (it's a echidna thing) she needs something else to be doing

i didn't have time to add tikal i already talked about her before

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hiiiii Robin aka Bird Boy!

Sorry I took a bit longer than usual to reply but dad suddenly decided he’d had enough of the forest and we went back home! I thought maybe it’d be fun to wait a bit longer and show you our house and stuff. I don’t really like moving around all the time but I guess it kinda gives you lots of new stuff to talk about so that’s something.

This is our house! It’s not as big as yours looks but there’s only two of us and we’re not always here so it makes sense that it’s not massive. Dad usually rents it out whilst we’re not here cos he says it’s better for the house that it’s looked after but I know he means it’s better for his bank too lol!! I guess it works out for me though cos he says I can put as many plants as I want in my room as long as I keep them alive so they’d die if we left it empty every time we left. He says it’s like I brought the jungle inside hahaaha, I like it though!

The last person who rented the house was one of dad’s old work friends and he left this cool telescope for me to play with since I’m “so keen about the stars and shit” HIS WORDS! I know you’re supposed to use it at night but it’s kinda fun to spy on people during the day too. Like I’m pretty sure our neighbours are getting a divorce cos I overheard the guy moaning about the lady to my dad once and sometimes you can hear them yelling and see them waving their arms at each other through the window or on the balcony (don’t tell anyone though hahaa!)

I think dad’s kinda happy to be back (look how bushy his eyebrows are though ahahhhahah) he spends a lot of time fishing but I know it’s only a matter of time until he gets itchy and runs out of money again. Half of me wishes he’d get a good job here so we wouldn’t have to move around all the time but the other half is glad to leave. I guess it’s kinda nice here AND I was born here but I don’t even like swimming and there’s water and beaches EVERYWHERE ugh..

I guess I don’t really think Sulani feels like home anymore, not since mom died. It’s pretty and it’s nice but something is always missing so it’s kinda lame too if that makes sense. Maybe that’s why dad likes to leave sometimes too, I’d ask him but he’d probably get upset so maybe not! I was gonna leave that part out cos it’s a bummer but we don’t really keep many secrets from each other so I said it…

Anyway, dad’s a pig and never cleans ANYTHING and I think he got bored of me complaining about how big and heavy the vacuum is cos he got me a cool mini one (it’s a “sorry we move around so much but here’s a present so shh” present but I’ll take it hahaa) he took it off me for a few days after I hoovered some crumbs out of his bed and sucked up his headphones by accident but that’s his fault for eating cookies in bed when he should be sleeping.

Oh and since there’s not many fun rocks to find or dig up here I decided to start up my shell collection again. I found a few nice ones I guess but I really want to find a conch! Dad said they’re pretty rare but you’d think with all the stupid sand and beaches around here that I’d be able to find at least ONE even if it was a tiny one but not yet! I’ll let you know if I do though!

Anyway, I’m kinda sad we left Granite Falls in the end cos it was so close to the holidays I hoped maybe your family would go camping again and we’d be able to explore together again. Hopefully next time we move we’ll move even closer to where you live so there’s more chance we’ll get to see each other! A bird pooped on me the other day though which dad said is supposed to be lucky so I decided to believe him and hope we get to hang out again one day SOON (after I had a shower anyway because EUGH!)

Hope you’re okay and glad to be done with school for the summer!

Love Alex :)

[scekrex]

Adam Masterlist

Consider chasing dick instead of pussy {SFW}

Fuck him, flip him, bend him backwards, baby, put your back into it {NSFW}

Bitches want me 'cuz they know that I can rock {NSFW}

Heavenly {NSFW}

Till death do us part, but we're already past that phase {SFW}

Heaven's gates won't open up for us again {SFW}

What it takes to be a man {SFW}

Going viral {SFW, crack fic}

Hidden in the sheets {SFW}

Lost and Found {SFW}

Any way you want me, baby, that's the way you got me {NSFW}

Night Terrors {SFW}

I'm liking it better with you {SFW, crack fic}

Drunk 'n' Nasty {SFW, crack fic}

Constant Headache {SFW}

Baby we could be Bonnie & Clyde {SFW}

Do you even {SFW, crack fic}

For you I'd bleed myself dry {SFW}

Pretty baby with the sun in his eyes {SFW}

Figure you out {SFW}

Cuffed Up {SFW}

Got Me Obsessed {NSFW}

Forbidden fruits cause damage {SFW}

Born to Lose {SFW}

Chaotically Chaotic {SFW}

Let me live/Let me die {SFW}

Lonely Eyes {SFW}

Flying and Falling are pretty close to each other {SFW, crack fic}

I'll shelter and adore you more than anything {SFW}

Stick It To The (Wo)Man {SFW}

With broken wings we're fallin' {SFW}

The Plan (Fuck Parents) {SFW}

Pretty Boy Swag {SFW}

Goodbyes that feel like you're still in my city {SFW}

In Desire We Trust {NSFW}

People Pleasing doesn't rock {SFW}

And I dream to be your fantasy {SFW}

Chains on my lips just add flames to the fire {SFW}

Love me like you mean it, a little bit harder now {NSFW}

Never wanna stop 'cause your taste is so divine {NSFW}

Let the sun set on your life and I'll make, oh I'll make you mine {SFW}

When you meet my eyes, we both know that you're mine {SFW}

But I still want more, don't know what I'm after {NSFW}

I hate everyone, it's so easy, I wouldn't do it if I didn't really care {NSFW}

It's 'cause of these things {SFW}

He can fix it {SFW}

If God's watching then we're both sinners {SFW}

Love at first sight, I still believe {SFW}

Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone {SFW}

I bring the ribs, I bring the drama {SFW}

Everything I love, I guess it makes me damned {NSFW}

Smother me with loving hands {SFW}

We're eating good tonight, darlin' {NSFW}

Reach out and touch faith {NSFW}

Birthday boy {SFW}

All the violence makes a statement {SFW}

If I'm so wonderful then why am I so misunderstood {SFW}

This hurts me like Heaven {NSFW}

Is this the life, the one from your dreams? {NSFW}

I got myself a fuckin' life dressed up in evening wear {SFW}

Little soldier {SFW}

About bragging and loving {SFW}

The deeper you go, the better you feel {NSFW}

Never wanted to dance with nobody, but you {SFW}

I'm a jester and I'm yours, call me your fool {SFW}

Burning, I feel it too {SFW}

There's a darkness at the heart of my love, that runs cold, runs deep {SFW}

I promise you that I'll be good to you if you promise that you'll try to love me too {SFW}

Make me cum {NSFW}

You're dead to me, stop saying my name like beetlejuice {SFW}

Spin round quick rock yo body {NSFW}

I got all twisted up, you helped straighten me out {SFW}

Suck it up, big boy {NSFW}

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be {SFW}

Take me down, a little bit harder now {NSFW}

I'm not likely to kick a head in, but I'll curb stomp a bitch if she objects at our wedding {SFW}

Kill anyone for you {SFW}

Out for Blood {SFW}

Lover come hold me {SFW}

I'll meet you in hell {SFW}

I don't want you to hate me, no, I want you to wanna hate me {SFW}

I wave goodbye to the end of beginning {SFW}

Let's make a mess and cross the line, you and me a masterpiece {NSFW}

Call me daddy {SFW}

I love it - you son of a bitch {SFW}

The king's demand of golden birds {SFW}

Rocking your world {NSFW}

I'm gonna fuck you up without further ado {SFW}

Can't take back all the things we said {SFW}

Slow Dance with You {SFW}

Gold is a divine color, luckily you're the most divine person to exist {SFW}

You're always so lovely {SFW}

All I want is all you've got {SFW}

'Cause a sinner needs a saint to tell him what's at the end {SFW}

Drunken Truths {SFW}

A bloody nose and two bleeding hearts {SFW}

'Cause no one saw me the way you did and no one's seen me that way since {SFW}

And I know the weight of the world can't crush my chest {SFW}

I could treat you so much better I've known you forever figured you out {SFW}

Masterlist 2

[thinking1bee]

You Haven't Failed Part 11

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Tags: Spidey!Reader, Venom!Reader, So Much Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut

Everything Taglist: @ara-a-bird @alexawynters

From your head to your torso, Wanda watched in horror as the suit split down the middle. The ringing from the device in Tony’s hand sent ripples through its form. It changed as it stretched exceedingly away from you, the black becoming taut with only thin slivers of connecting flesh holding it together. It looked to be on the verge of tearing. Thrashing flesh formed a hollow head with a gaping maw full of razor-sharp teeth, and that head bellowed thunderously. As it pulled away from you in a desperate attempt to escape, it exposed your entire head, your arms, and chest as you screamed and writhed.

“STOP IT!” you screeched.

It was agony to tear a hand away from your ear, but you flung your arm towards Tony, the fibers of the sentient suit wrapping around your arm, traveling down the length of it to cover it in wiggling black that shot a gigantic barrage of tentacles in his direction. He couldn’t move fast enough. Tony tossed the device to Wanda before the tentacles wrapped tightly around his body. His suit groaned under the strength of your grip, the tentacles almost threatening to shatter the nanobots that formed it. You heaved, the tentacles undulating as you whipped him back before throwing him as far away as you could, his body twirling end over end as he fought to right himself in midair. You turned towards Wanda, tears streaming down your cheeks as you and the symbiote continued to suffer.

“Wands,” you choked out, your voice breaking as you hunched over. The tentacles collapsed heavily onto the street. The weight of them lurched you forward, and you shot out your other arm to catch yourself, to prevent from flopping onto the ground. You knew that you wouldn’t have the strength to get back up.

Wanda hated this. She hated it. You were in so much pain and she could feel it. She just wanted to hold you. She wanted to reassure you that everything was alright, but she had to separate you from that symbiote. Tears came to her eyes as you tried to reach for her. Even with her being so far away, you were crawling to her, cries of pain tearing your throat apart as the symbiote writhed and shrieked. Wanda just wanted to kiss you and make the pain stop.

But she had to do this. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

She turned the volume up and focused her magic on you. Red spilled from her hand, her eyes turning the same color, as magic wrapped around you and the symbiote. Even through bleary eyes that struggled to see through the pain, you could see the entity that had bonded to you. Days ago, it’d felt good. The strength that it gave you felt great. It was addicting, but as it screeched, the teeth snapping while saliva dripped from its unhinged jaw, you saw this thing for what it really was. Evil. You could feel it sucking the strength out of you rapidly. It was draining you to keep itself alive. You could feel it. You could also feel it’s intentions, and right now, it wanted Wanda dead.

She was right.

You were blinded by the strength it was giving you. The power that coursed through your veins enthralled you, and for the past several days, it was taking you over, changing you. A darkness had settled into your soul, but it hadn’t been born from this alien. No. It was simply unearthed. It brought to light the anger that you’d tried to snuff out. It saw that, and the grief, resentment, and helplessness you harbored, and used it all against you. It fed you lies and false hopes, and you had been too naïve to believe it. You were too blinded by your own shortcomings that you let it in even when Wanda voiced her concerns. Now here you were, an alien sucking the life from your body as it fought to get to Wanda. You put her in danger.

You failed her…again.

Your vision was swimming now, and you found it incredibly hard to breathe. It was like you were being suffocated, even as mouthfuls of oxygen inflated your lungs. The symbiote was dragging your weakened body, bit by bit, as it pulled you towards Wanda, and your head swam at the pain you felt. Red filled your vision, and you barely made out the magic that surrounded you. You looked up to see her, her eyes ablazed with red as she held her arm outstretched towards you. You felt a voice enter your mind, and this time, it was a voice that you love.

<I’m so, so sorry Y/n.>

You could hear the pain and regret in the words, and they echoed longingly inside of you. She was sorry…you chuckled at the prospect of your girlfriend saving your life, at the fact that she was apologizing to you that she was doing it. It was ludicrous. You were the one that was sorry, and you hated how it took you until now to see the error of your ways.

“Do it, Wands,” you whimpered weakly, knowing that she could hear you. You knew what her intentions were, and you nodded your head as you dug your hands and feet into the street. You actually broke the asphalt, your fingers burrowing deep into the concrete as you anchored yourself down. “Do it!”

The symbiote screeched, its head whirling around to face you with malice. Its jaw opened impossibly wider as it roared, and you watched as a long tongue snaked out of its mouth. Wanda reacted quickly when its attention was diverted. She wrapped her magic over you and it, and began to force you both apart. The agony that exploded to life inside of you was indescribable. It was like you were being pulled apart atom by atom. You cried out, and then coughed. A mouthful of blood left your lips, the world pulsating around you as you fought to keep yourself in place. The symbiote screeched louder, its body flailing uncontrollably as it tried to release itself from the grip of her magic. Wanda was putting her all into releasing you from it. She was actually struggling, and she had to relinquish the device to Tony once he rejoined her by her side. Her other hand started to glow, and she gritted her teeth, her arms flexing noticeably under her suit. There were a lot of things that she’d seen. There were many things that couldn’t surprise her anymore, but nothing prepared her for the voice she heard from the alien.

“I will kill your lover!” it snarled, its voice inhumanly deep and gravelly. “I will kill them before I kill you!”

Instantly, Wanda eased up on her pull and Tony looked at her with wide eyes.

“What are you doing??” he demanded. “You can’t stop now.”

She wasn’t stopping, only listening. She still had it in her hold even as the magic dwindled in intensity. The device had died a moment later, the ringing abruptly stopping. She could see you holding on for dear life, but she also could see the mouthfuls of blood you were spitting up. More blood dribbled down your nose, and she could see how pale and sickly you looked. Even just on your face, she could see the veins beneath your pallid skin turn black. It was like dark, inky spider webs marring your skin.

“Did you hear that, human?!” he demanded, but this time, at you. Its cloudy, white eyes stared at you with intense wrath. “I will devour her from the inside out.”

“No,” you whimpered. You felt the alien tug at you again, its desire to tear Wanda limb from limb a driving force behind its desperate actions.

“No!” you screamed again. You heard its words. You felt its bloodthirsty desires. It was one hundred percent serious on its threat and feeling that gave you the strength to rise to your feet.

Wanda watched as you shot two webs at it, the artificially silken ropes adhering to the top of its head, and with the reins in your grip, you pulled backwards with all your might. No. Not her. Not again. It roared as you dragged it backwards and Wanda watched in shock, your arms straining while more blood spilt from your nose. You would pull this thing apart before it could ever reach her.

“Give up!” it sneered as it struggled against you. “I will take her, or I will take you!”

“Then take me!” you yelled immediately.

“детка, no!”

“...take me,” you repeated again, your voice growing weaker. As you said it, you dropped the webs from your hands and met its eyes, the fight instantly bleeding from you as your arms hung limply by your sides. It paused for only a second, and you watched as Wanda started running towards you, tears streaming down her face as she tried to intervene in time.

Fuck. You were so damn tired. A soul deep kind of ache filled your bones as your body flared with pain sickeningly. You fucked up, and you had put Wanda and everyone else in danger, all because of your weakness. A small smile graced your lips as you shifted your gaze from the symbiote to the love of your life. She wasn’t going to get to you in time.

And that was okay.

<I love you.>

Wanda felt the words in her mind and something inside of her grew so desperate, she couldn’t think straight. Even as she tried to throw a wave of magic at the entity still connected to your body, it dodged her attack easily before it shot towards you. The last thing you saw before darkness completely enveloped you was Wanda and Tony fighting to get to you. The symbiote stretched its body wide, like it was casting a net, before it engulfed you. There was a moment where the pain inside of you went nuclear before there was nothing. Nothing existed anymore. Not even you.

***

A wriggling, gargantuan mass of black flesh enveloped you entirely. It was so thick that Wanda couldn’t even see an outline of your body beneath it. It was too late. She skidded to a stop as a sob left her lips, and she watched helplessly as the symbiote took you over. She watched as the mass began to shrink, to form a body, but it didn’t form the spider suit it dressed you in previously. No. Standing before her was a hulking entity. It was tall, overly muscular, and its face…it was horrific. It opened its mouth, and the same teeth she saw before greeted her. Large, white eyes, vaguely in the shape of the eyes on your spider suit, stared at her in victory. It roared right as it began to twitch, wet noises filled the air as the muscles on its back vibrated. Something beneath the surface was fighting to get out. Large, black wings exploded from its back, the appendages fluttering and flapping as they stretched. Breaths sawed in and out of Wanda as it stood up straight and unfurled its bat shaped wings to their full length.

“Y/n?” she whispered.

“We are not Y/n,” it spoke to her, the voice carrying an air of deep animosity. It regarded her with absolute hate, its hands flexing with strength as it took a step towards her.

“We.”

It took another step as it stood to its full height. It towered over Wanda and Tony both, its voice deep as it growled its words.

“Are.”

Wanda had to back away, her eyes and hands igniting red with magic as she prepared herself for a fight. She was going to get you back. Wanda loved you, and she wasn’t going to let you go.

“Venom.”

Part 12

[starmuselove]

HADES : MY FOREVER LAMENT PAC

What they miss about you and consequently how they act 'cause of it?

Hello my mystical babies, I was just chilling looking out in the morning cause it was raining and the ambience was so good I just sat there for quite sometime taking it in. And I was feeling my creative senses tingling, so I decided for a somewhat romantic moody suave reading. So I hope you too are able to enjoy this like I could enjoy the rain.

Disclaimer: Take a deep breath, have some fun and pamper yourself as you read this. If it doesn't resonate with you now, it's not time for you to read this yet, maybe read it at another time. Have a lovely day!

𝕯𝖊𝖈𝖐𝖘 𝖀𝖘𝖊𝖉: ℜ𝔞𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔚𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔗𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔱 + 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔦𝔩𝔡 𝔘𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔗𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔱.

ᴘɪʟᴇ 1

Quote: "I Hope that someday, Somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight and that's what they'll do. They don't pull away. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it"

9oW, The Fool (R)(3oC) ° 4oS, Mother of Wands, 5oP

One word I'm getting - Pookie. They're a softie aww. They miss your light-heartedness , your innocence you bring in their difficult world. The positivity that you have, which you encourage them with. How you guide them with it, with hope and faith. They could consider you their sunshine/source of strength.

They could probably get silent, introverted and moody when you're absent. A bit defensive and moody for little things cause they haven't talked to you for a long time lol. It's like the bird being defensive about her little ones, so cute. They might have a life crisis, like their life has been frozen one side and they're just existing or surviving. They would want to fight people sometimes 😭Their brain don't work well at those times when missing you guys(I'm giggling here sorry luvs) They definitely pout and sulk. They might be a little dramatic with it.

RANDOM: Infinity, Yellow, My Sunshine My only Sunshine, Pookie, Pookie Bear.

ᴘɪʟᴇ 2

Quote: "How could I not love eyes that see me in all of my forms of beautiful?"

9oS, The Emperor ° 7oS, 8oC, Justice

We've got two groups of people here- First, They miss the foundation and structure you provide to their life. It's like you are their rock. You might be a person who is self sufficient and knowledgeable. You absence is definitely very noticeable for this person. They could feel like their nightmares are coming back to swallow them whole again, you could have saved this person from relapsing into bad habits.

They might want to travel to see you. Even if you are cities apart, catching a flight just to see you. They might feel very dejected and might even start praying to the spirits to bring you back to them soon. Yeah, the separation might make them realise what's right and what's wrong. They could reassess the things they could've done or happened to deliver you the fair treatment or what you deserve.

In Second type, Some of you might be reading this for your ex? A further division in that- for some of you, they don't really have nothing positive to say they miss you, they're probably thinking it's good riddance. They are happy they could explore other options with you gone(this sucks :(( )

If it's indeed an ex that does miss you, they would try to show off how they would love you and take care of you to persuade you to get back with them.

RANDOM STUFFS: Structure, Building Blocks, Driving, Car, Meeting,Aloy/Aloha, Thrice, Moon Gazing, Snow.

ᴘɪʟᴇ 3

Mild mention of 18+ themes below.

Quote: "No, we're not soulmates. This is not divine intervention. And this is most certainly not a chance. I willed this. I knit the threads of fate myself until it wrote our name. I love you intentionally. I love you with every bit of conscience I was born with."

5oS, Ace of Wands,Page of Pentacles ° The Moon, 3oP, 5oS.

First thing I got was they don't wanna live without you, life seems meaningless in your absence. They really seem to love you a lot. This is my fun/adventurous couple, pranksters, very active couple. They miss the mind blowing sex and the play fights they have with you. The navigator and manifester energy that you bring. Tbh this pile really values what you bring to the table, they see you as a very valuable person in their life- more like invaluable. I also think you might be their dream person manifested in real life.

Like i said before they find any victories that happens in their life to be meaningless without you around. They want it to share with you. The quote too says similar stuff- they want YOU to be with them and vice versa. They turn into this self doubting phase. They might feel like people around them are gonna do things behind their back, to destroy them. I think you might be the person who restored their faith in people maybe that's why your absence could give such impacts. They could be the type of person to call people around you to check on you or if you were ever in a position of no contact.

RANDOM:

Tiger, Cheetah, Cub, Matching Couple items, Despair, Torment, Pink Gun, Dildo, Toy , Children's Gift, Night, Insomnia, Discord.

This is a part of my HADES series of PACs. Like, reblog or even comment so I can get your feedback. My ask box is open to express feedback too. Negative behaviour absolutely won't be tolerated!

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 18: i'm anything but tame

"Don't tell me it's not fair. Believe me, I've been there. Bittersweet my renegade and I'm anything but tame. Oh, I hate to tell you this way. VIllians aren't born, darlin' we're made."  -Villians Aren't Born (They're Made) by PEGGY

Regent masterlist Mundane Macabre Part 17 AO3

Council of Uncaged Birds group chat [User Pharaoh has changed group name to Summon the Fraid Council] Summon the Fraid Council group chat Pharaoh-Tech: Phantom giw left AP InfiniteStarPrince: but thats good??? Queen_Regent: Where did they go? 

Dame_Asphodel: Phar tracked them far as NJ but the green says they are close to you.  Pharaoh-Tech: did some digging the bomb = not giw InfiniteStarPrince: yeah no gross ecto Queen_Regent: too subtle, not the usual guns blazing style.  InfiniteStarPrince: Oh.  Dame_Asphodel: Why Regent then? Queen_Regent: Who knows Phantom and I outside our night lives? Pharaoh-Tech: will dig more oracle tried 2 hack me Queen_Regent: Did you make contact? Dame_Asphodel: isnt Oracle a bat ally? Pharaoh-Tech: probably back hacked some files theres a file on Regent InfiniteStarPrince: why would BBB not have 1 on her??? Dame_Asphodel: BBB? Queen_Regent: Big Bad Bat. Batman. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah why wouldnt he have 1 on a meta Queen_Regent: he thinks is one Pharaoh-Tech: it has UR REAL NAMEE Queen_Regent:  I told him. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah, R let me know Dame_Asphodel: why? Pharaoh-Tech: u kidding i worried for nothing?!?! Queen_Regent: I’m dating Red Hood Dame_Asphodel: What happened to Jason? InfiniteStarPrince: him too Pharaoh-Tech: wat???? InfiniteStarPrince: R met his family 2 Pharaoh-Tech: hol up !?!?!?! u tellin me RH = JT?? Queen_Regent: Can’t confirm or deny Pharaoh-Tech: imma lay down head hurts Dame_Asphodel: That does make me think R Queen_Regent: that one of RH’s enemies tried to kill two birds with one bomb InfiniteStarPrince: oh snap plot twist Dame_Asphodel: who though?  Queen_Regent: RH is a crime lord Dame_Asphodel: who took on black mask Queen_Regent: I don’t want to do anything without proof

InfiniteStarPrince: black mask? Dame_Asphodel: crime lord got ass kicked by RH literally has a black mask as a face InfiniteStarPrince: so looking for one (1) ugly bastard Queen_Regent: evidence first. can’t execute mortal with zero InfiniteStarPrince: realm laws suck Dame_Asphodel: yet you’re still gonna be king sucks to suck Queen_Regent: For now i’ll ask RH for info he’s mad about the bomb worried I couldve been hurt InfiniteStarPrince: gross Dame_Asphodel: and after? Queen_Regent: well we’ll cross that bridge when we get there Dame_Asphodel:  I think you mean burn it Queen_Regent: whatever comes first

GothicDame and JazzHands chat

GothicDame: does he treat you well? JazzHands: very 

GothicDame: good always need more fertilizer JazzHands: Never change

If she was anyone else, Ellie walking through Jason’s apartment door with a dirty shovel over her shoulder while whistling a jaunty tune would have raised some concerns for the older Nightingale. Jazz decided to settle for fond exasperation over annoyance at her little sister’s literal (albeit forewarned) shovel talk, even though the aforementioned shovel was suspiciously covered in bloody dirt. 

However, any annoyance died and went to the realms when Ellie stood face to chest with Jason, one hand on her hip, shovel still over her shoulder and gave him a once-over. A four-foot-six teen standing off against her six-foot even boyfriend should not be allowed to be so comedic. 

“So, you’re the-“

“Red Hood.” 

“I was gonna say undead weenie, but that works too I guess.” 

It was just so ridiculous that Jazz couldn’t help but laugh at the two. Jason and Ellie spared her confused looks at her laughter, but didn’t comment as Danny entered the apartment as well, only he had an ecto smoothie in one hand and a bucket of popcorn in the other. The future Ghost King didn’t seem all that concerned about the scene he walked into, only pausing long enough to ask-

“Did I miss anything?” 

[I'm so glad to post a new part to the Regent! If you weren't aware, this also now lives on AO3.]

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #13] Work of Art

warnings: jaykay discovers boobs! we rejoice! wahooo!! okay so this entire chapter is basically titty worship (no titty sucking (sad)). lots of paint. curious art. shower (again) mutual masturbation (for realsies this time) jaykayyy aka my dream man. the chess plot device is born! the mirror kink is also born! WE THRIVE!! Still one of my fave chapters, some would argue we peaked early!!

soundtrack: vibez- zayn

wc: 11.8k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Why did you write it like that?"

"Like what?" you say, coming to sit beside Jeongguk at a pair of easels towards the back of the room. The last few tasks were carried out by the pair of you, Jeongguk insisting on helping despite the fact he had no clue really what to do. You'd ended up asking him to move a couple of boxes you couldn't reach just to appease his need to lend a hand.

He looks at your bird once more, and holds it open for you to read again. You knock your head to the side and shrug.

"Guess it's just how I feel about it."

"Like screaming?"

"Kind of," you laugh. It's written in just the same way as the last one - full capital letters, zero context, and more exclamation points than any one person should use. "I guess it's like... a big one for me?"

"How big are we talking?" Jeongguk asks as he looks at it again. It's just a single word, but he knows there's more to it than meets the eye. There always is with you.

You pull one of your feet up to the chair and wrap your arms around your knee. The apron you'd been wearing earlier is up on a hook, and Jeongguk finds the simplicity of your outfit all very intriguing. You're monochromatic, which isn't much of a surprise, in a large white shirt and black slacks. The caps of your hightops peek out from the hem of your trousers, and a satin scrunchie is around your wrist instead of in your hair.

You're lacking a little sparkle. There's still some across your lashline, and little specks on your skin that your makeup remover hadn't managed to get, but what with the paint and the two showers you've had since the paint party, there's really not all that much left.

He wonders if there's any glitter glue in the art supplies. Thinks you should just use that instead. You're really not quite yourself without it.

"My ex was a tittie guy," you say, and Jeongguk's eyes widen as if he'd forgotten the topic of conversation. You laugh. "Is it really that much of a surprise? Ass guys are hardly gonna go for me."

"Your ass is fine," Jeongguk says. He means it as a compliment, but realises 'fine' isn't the way to ever really describe a woman's assets - and so he corrects himself. "Good, I mean. Your ass is good."

There's a look of disgust on your face as you question why on earth he's been looking at your ass, which causes him to roll his eyes. There really is no winning with you.

"I'm an ass guy," he shrugs.

"Doesn't give you any right to look at it."

"Oh give over," he laughs. "It's literally just a body part. No different to me looking at, I don't know... your wrist. Something like that."

"Well, it depends," you argue back. "Are you into wrists?"

Regretfully, the answer is yes .

"I don't know!" Jeongguk protests when you grill him for how the fuck he can be 'into' wrists. "They're just dainty! And pretty! I don't know! It's not my fault."

You narrow your eyes, and hide your exposed wrist behind your knee. He looks at you with a poorly hidden smile, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. His lip ring always dances along his peachy bottom lip when he does so, and it makes you laugh - but you're still feigning disgust.

In all honestly, you like your wrists. Would put them in your top five for your physical attributes. Completely understand why he would be into wrists, just like you're into forearms. You like arms that feel safe.

Kind of like his.

But still, he's an ass guy.

"See, this is why you and I would never work," you tell him, and nod to the piece of paper he's still holding, adorned with a singular scribble:

!!!!! TITS !!!!!

"We want different things," you clarify. "You're after a good ass, I'm after a guy who knows how to handle a pair of tits."

"Hey! That's not fair. I never said I didn't know how to handle them," he scoffs - although now he comes to think about it, he's not sure he actually does. "Like, sure, maybe my exes have all had great asses, but they all had a pair of tits, too. I'm not opposed to a pair of tits."

"Yeah, but there's a pair of tits, and a pair of tits , yanno?" You say, using your hands to really emphasise the point. "Anyway my ex really liked them."

"So?"

"So, I really liked that he really liked them," you shrug. It's painfully obvious to you, but Jeongguk is still a little confused. "I just... The idea of someone else doing what he did to them just... makes me wanna run, yanno?"

"The fuck did he do them?" Jeongguk laughs.

"Nothing obscene," you smile, though when you think about it, perhaps 'obscene' is the only way to describe how much he enjoyed them. "I guess it's more so that it was always a part of sex? Most guys I've been with pick and choose whenever they want to deal with them, but with him..."

You don't mean to trail off, but fuck. You're thinking about Seokjin, how his plump lips would trail down your throat. He'd inhale the scent of your perfume and fucking whine, only stopping to latch himself to your nipples. Would spend more time on your tits than he would any other part of your body. Spent so long once that he made you orgasm from the simulation of it all alone.

And so now they're off limits. It doesn't matter who it is. The second someone reaches for your bra, you shake your head, reposition their hands, and pretend you hate your tits being touched. It's not like it's an unreasonable lie. You know it's one of Danbi's least favourite forms of foreplay. If anything, she'd be a good match for Jeongguk. In fact, now you come to think about it, she's got a cracking ass from all of her dog-walking.

Maybe you should cool the deal off. It's highly likely they're compatible. Fucking around with Jeongguk would only complicate things in the future if they discovered that themselves - but you know Taehyung's interested in her, and Jeongguk hasn't given any indication of interest further than friendship with her.

It's not like this is anything beyond friendship, you reason with yourself.

Jeongguk stays quiet as you work through your thought process. Assumes you're skimming through traumatic memories. Doesn't realise you're actually playing matchmaker in your head for him and your best friend.

"But with him?" He asks.

You're drawn from your thoughts. Feel a little guilty. Wonder if you should really be doing this - not for your sake, but for his.

"Are you sure about this?" You ask, ignoring his question entirely.

"About?"

"Doing my birds?"

He purses his lips - and now he feels guilty, too. Funny, how you're both more concerned about one another than yourselves.

"It's entirely your choice," he says. Doesn't want you to feel pressured into it - but it just makes you feel like he feels pressured into it.

"No, but, that just feels to me as if you don't want to," you tell him. "And like, that's totally fine, if you don't, but-"

"Byeol," he says all rather plainly. "I'm the one who suggested it. If I didn't want to I wouldn't be here right now, would I? I sought you out. I came here. This is all on me."

The worry on your features softens, and he's pleased to see you smile again no matter how subtle it may be.

"Only thing I will say is that I don't actually know what 'exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, tits, excla-' "

"Gguk, you don't have to say every single exclamation point."

"Right," he nods. "Well, that. I don't know what that exactly entails."

And truth be told, nor do you. So you just sigh. Press your lips together a little tighter than usual. Think about it for a moment. Draw a blank. Furrow your brows.

Jeongguk looks just as perplexed as you. He's looking away, trying to find inspiration in the room around him - and when his eyes land on the 'gallery' wall where there are imitations of famous works, an idea comes to mind.

"So this is all about separating physical acts from emotional intimacy, right?" He says, and when you nod, he continues. "So what if we do something that involves-" he laughs, because he's a child. "-touching your tits-"

"Real mature."

"Shut up. We'll do something that involves touching your tits," he has to pause so that he doesn't laugh, but you're grinning too. Just as immature as he is. "But something that isn't sexual at all."

"Alright," you muse. "I'm listening."

"You got any black paint?"

You narrow your eyes. Turn your nose up a little. Question if he's lost all of his brain cells. "Jeongguk, this is an art cafe."

"I didn't wanna just assume," he feigns offence. "Are there security cameras in this place?"

"Only by the front entrance. None into the studio area."

"Okay, good. Go get some black paint and I'll get the blinds."

"No blinds," you say, nodding over the windows. "Chiffon curtains. If we turn the main lights off and just keep the lamps on, it should all be obscured. Let's just... not be too close to the windows - and what's the paint for?"

"Will tell you in a bit," he says as he heads to the windows. "Chop, chop, Byeol. We've got a fear to overcome."

You stay as you are for a moment, watching him with unrivalled wonder. There's an enigmatic energy to him that makes it seem as if he's the one constantly covered in glitter, not you. It's quite alarming that this is Jeongguk operating at half capacity. His confidence was knocked quite considerably after his heart was broken, and he's yet to recover. You know this. Know that's what his birds are all about. Know that once you've worked through them with him, he'll be an unstoppable force of nature.

In the time you've known him, he's been nothing but an angel. Cocky? Yes. A little petulant? Make that incredibly petulant. And yet he's a joy to be around. Shines without the need for artificial sparkles. You envy it. Wish you could emulate it.

It's as you're getting the paint, and a few extra supplies that you'll figure you'll need - some brushes, some washcloths - that Jeongguk begins to explain himself. He's drawing the curtains shut, glancing over at you every few words just to check you're paying attention.

"So I saw a video the other day - something to do with easy Halloween crafts, don't ask - and there are two options for you. One of them is quite literally painting your tits and pressing it against a canvas-"

"You are not painting my tits."

"Noted. The other one was way more family-friendly," he says, before he mulls it over and changes his mind. "Kinda. Maybe. It's a skeleton hand shirt."

"Okay..."

"It's super simple, one person covers their hands in paint and basically just grabs the other persons tits-"

"Does that mean I can grab yours too?"

"I don't have tits, I have incredibly defined pecks," he states rather sharply. "Please rephrase the question, Byeol."

You just grin. "Can I grab your tits?"

"No."

"Boring."

"Look," he smiles as he walks over to the easels where you'd been sat before. He turns the chair and sits on it backwards, arms resting over the back of it. There's a casualness to the way in which he carries himself. One that you quite enjoy. "This is a quick, easy and totally platonic way for you to have your tits touched, and it not be sexual at all."

"It'll just ruin my shirt."

"Or not," he says as he nods up to the wall where canvas sizes are displayed. There's also a plain tote bag and white tee pinned to the wall, still up from a promotion put on during the back-to-school season. It had been Hoseok's job to take them down, but he'd just broken up with his girlfriend at the time and had spent the entire week face down in the back room - getting him to do anything had been impossible - and so they remain as they were. "Would your boss notice if one went missing?"

You shake your head. Your boss really has no clue about the day-to-day goings on.

Still, you're hesitant. "If I get fired-"

"Then I'll fire Yeonjun and you can have his job," Jeongguk bullshits. If he was gonna fire anyone, Yeonjun would be the last to go. "C'mon, you gotta stop stressing the small stuff, Byeol."

You're making excuses. You know you are, and so does he.

"Can we at least do it at your place?" You ask. It feels rude to invite yourself to his apartment, but it's honestly probably where you feel most comfortable. It's where the birds are, and it feels like a sanctuary for your fears. When done in the confines of his room, you're able to shut them away and never think about them again - at least not until you return.

Jeongguk thinks it over. He's got no problem with it, just isn't sure if Jimin is in. He tells you as such and is met with a shrug.

"If he's in, he's in," you say. "We can just say we're working on planning an event for Tae's exhibition, say that I'm using you for cheap labour."

"Oh shit yeah," Jeongguk gasps, suddenly reminded of the fact Taehyung had been here with a purpose. "How did it go? You think your boss will approve."

You nod. "Don't see why not. It's a solid pitch and we haven't held an exhibition in a while. I have some contacts saved up from our last couple of shows so can get together a guest list for the opening night."

It's more than Taehyung would have hoped for. The painting cafe is unassuming, in a way, which makes it a great underdog location for hosting such events.

"Sorry to have sent him here without warning," Jeongguk adds. "I wasn't even sure if you did things like that."

"Not often," you admit. "I really enjoy them, though. I'm always keen for more."

The pair of you gather up your things and head back to Jeongguk's place, talking about his friends, and their careers. You learn Taehyung is an artist by night, but a teaching assistant by day, which makes his love for arts and crafts all the more sweeter, you decide. Jimin works at a local interior design firm, which suddenly makes so much sense considering the books you remember being on his desk when you were bent over it.

Namjoon works at the local off-branch of the national paper, with a focus on environmental reporting, which is how he'd met Yoongi, who works as a sustainable carpenter, specialising in local woods and materials. Running his own studio, Mins , he'd done a promotional interview a few years back around the time it opened, and had then introduced Namjoon to the rest of the boys.

Their friendships run deep, and it's nice that Jeongguk is so willing to share that part of his life with you. The way he sees it, you're well on your way to becoming a part of the group, too.

When you arrive at Jeongguk's place, he enters first.

The shower is running, loud enough to obscure any noise of his arrival, so he ushers you in and straight to his room. The sneaking around is getting a little old already, but he figures soon enough it will be commonplace for you to hang out with the both of them.

Jimin isn't naive to your friendship, he just isn't aware quite how friendly you've become.

And so you keep your voices down, even when the pair of you are trying your hardest not to laugh, hands covered in paint, neither of you wanting to be the one who goes first. He's in a black shirt, so your hands are covered in white paint. You're in white, so his hands are coated in a layer of black paint instead.

It's stupid and it's juvenile, but also incredibly sweet. You appreciate how much Jeongguk tries to ease you into things. Baby steps.

"No, no," you whisper. "I'll go first. On you. Easier that way."

He knows it will make it no more difficult nor easy no matter who goes when, but he understands what you're saying. It will make you feel more comfortable. Of course, he obliges.

"Stand behind me," he says quietly. "Can you see in the mirror?"

"Not really," you say. His back is broad and he's obviously far taller than you, which pretty much obscures the entire mirror. If you lean around, you can see part of it, but it makes it harder for your to get an equal placement on his chest.

"Okay, just stand straight. I'll guide you."

The way he knocks your hands into position, mostly because his are also covered in paint, is just as gentle as the tone of his voice is.

"Three, two, one," he counts down. "Now press."

You do as you're told and are confronted with potentially the firmest pecks you've ever laid your hands upon. Sure, Seokjin had a body built like a God, but Jeongguk? Jesus Christ. He must be something entirely... unhuman.

"Anddd pull away," he whispers. The shirt sticks a little bit, but as your hands peel off, Jeongguk smirks. "Your hands are so small."

You take great offence to this for absolutely no reason other than to bicker with him. "Says you!"

"Sorry?"

"You don't exactly have massive hands," you goad him, seeing if you can get a rise out of him, and as if by magic -

"Turn the fuck around, Byeol," he says, almost forgetting the volume control. You do as you're told, grinning like the smug little bitch you are. "Don't have massive hands? I swear you say shit just to piss me off."

"Who me?" You feign innocence. " Never ."

"Yes, you," he laughs, but he makes no attempt to reciprocate the shirt creation. Instead, he holds back. Wants to make sure you're okay with it. You tell him you are, but he still doubles down on confirmation. "If it's too much at any point, just say."

You nod. Wonder if he can see the beat of your heart running through your veins. He can't. But he can see your eyes in the mirror, and recognise the trepidation they're drowning in.

"You ready?"

And again, you nod. Exhale. "Ready."

He's tentative in his approach, palms wide, fingers outstretched. He lets his palms rest on the sides of your chest first. You stop breathing for a moment.

"You okay?" He checks, to which you nod. "Okay, Byeol. We're going at your pace. The second it's too much, you let me know, okay?"

He waits for your go-ahead, and then lets his fingers squeeze into the softness of your chest. He sort of assumed he'd eclipse them like he always has done with his former partners, but he doesn't quite manage it with you. It takes him by surprise. Stops him in his tracks. Makes you nervous.

"Gguk?"

Whatever trance he's in, he snaps out of it. Realigns his focus. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod. "Are you?"

"Yeah, yeah," he parrots back. "Just being careful."

"It's fine," you smile. "I'm not a porcelain doll - and this is fine, actually."

"It is?"

"Mhmm. This isn't half as bad as I thought it would be."

"You're welcome."

You laugh, and tell him to shut up. He squeezes ever so gently around your chest, and as much as you hate to admit it, a fucking moan is lodged in your throat. You don't let it out. Don't want him to know it feels electric having his hands on you like this. God, it's nice . It's good . Comforting. That's what surprises you the most.

You've spent so long avoiding contact like this, that you had forgotten why you liked it so much in the first place.

In fact, you find yourself pouting ever so slightly when he pulls away, revealing two black handprints cradling your tits. His is the reverse, white paint on a black shirt.

"See," he smiles. "Told you it was cool. When they're dry, we can go in with markers and outline the skeleton shapes."

The pout on your lips as you look at him is sweet, eyes full of wonder. He thinks he's only ever seen you like this when you're drunk. It's all hazy, and it's like the glitter that's normally on your cheeks is in your pupils instead.

Silence resumes in his room, both of you conscious of Jimin milling around in the kitchen. Jeongguk tells you to take the shirt off - "be careful, don't let the paint touch anywhere else" - so that it can dry properly.

It's as you're both standing there half naked with your backs to one another, that he's caught off guard.

"Let's do it."

"Hmm?"

"Let's do it," you repeat. "That first idea. The canvas. I packed one just in case and I... I didn't think we'd need it - but it wasn't entirely horrible, and-I-think-I-wanna-see-if-maybe-"

"Byeol," Jeongguk laughs, cutting you off, but doesn't turn around to face you. He's still trying to be as respectful as he can be. "Breathe. If you wanna do it, we can. No biggie on my part."

"It's a biggie on my part," you say quietly.

Jeongguk frowns. Doesn't like how vulnerable you sound. "I know. It's okay. We can make it not a biggie."

Your mind races at a mile a minute. You've not let anyone other than Seokjin touch your bare chest in such a long time. The idea of Jeongguk doing it now makes you feel nervous, but you're ready for it. Ready to feel renewed. Ready to finally fucking let go.

"How do you want to do this?" You ask, because one decision is enough for you. You'd rather let him be in the driver's seat, now. Leave your destination unknown. Leave it up to him. You're just here for the journey. Here for the ride.

"Can I turn around?"

"Yeah," you say. You don't mind him seeing you like this - you're shirtless, but you still have a bra on. He takes a second to look at your back; how your spine trails down it. Wonders if there are dimples at the bottom of it. They'd be hidden by your trousers now, and he doesn't really remember checking after the paint party.

He shakes his head, ridding himself of the thoughts, as he heads to the curtains and draws one of them shut. The other curtain remains open, but neither of you will be standing in front of it, so he doesn't think it matters all that much.

Jeongguk comes to stand behind you, turning you to face the mirror. His hands are on your shoulders, still a little paint-ridden, but nothing that bothers you.

"So I'm thinking," he says quietly, eyes on yours in the reflection as he toys slightly with the bra straps over your shoulders. "That this comes off."

You swallow so hard that Jeongguk thinks you might choke. You don't.

But you also nod.

"Is that a yes?" He checks for consent.

"It's a yes."

His hands are slow as they stroke down your back. He's not really thinking. Just working on auto-pilot. This isn't about him. It's all about you. What you need. What you want.

"Then, I think we need more paint," he says, his fingers working to unclasp your bra. You feel the tension ping and release, and you think you might have a heart attack. He notices the change in your breathing. "If you need to stop, you just say, okay? Tell me okay?"

"Okay," you nod, knowing you're in the safest hands you possibly could be.

"What will you say? Give me a word. Something obscure. A safe word."

You shake your head and shrug, trying to think. "I don't know - chess?"

Jeongguk laughs, knowing exactly where your eyes must have been focused - on the shelf by his desk, where his chess set sits undisturbed. "Okay. Chess."

"Chess."

"Just say it, and I'll stop."

You're silent as he reaches over for the paint, and tells you to toss your bra on his bed. The click of the acrylic bottle opening and closing beats in time with your heart. Jeongguk's warming the paint between his hands, trying to make this as comfortable for you as he possibly can.

You're entirely bare from the waist up, and don't take much comfort in the fact that he is too. It feels a hell of a lot scarier for you, and you both know it.

"I'm gonna touch you now," he says, and waits for you to nod. You close your eyes. Bite on your lip. Wait for the contact - and when his palms softly connect, your brows knit together. Jeongguk watches on, apprehensive. It almost looks like you're in pain, but as he begins to spread the paint over your breasts, they ease. "That okay?"

You nod. "It's okay."

When you open your eyes, you avoid looking towards the mirror. You look down, look away - and Jeongguk notices. He nudges the side of your head with his own. Realigns it. Encourages. "Watch."

He speaks quietly, the dulcet tone of his purr just loud enough for you, but untraceable to anyone outside the room. He doesn't want Jimin to hear. Doesn't want Jimin to know.

It's not that he was lying when he said Jimin wouldn't care - he genuinely believes it'd be no issue, especially with context provided - it's just that he hasn't figured out how to explain it. The girl you shagged a few months ago? We're friends. Pretty good friends, actually. And I'm touching her boobs to help her get over a fear. Totally normal.

Jimin's fully aware of the friendship. Knows you've been in the apartment a handful of times. Jeongguk never hides it from it; just tells him after the occasion. He doesn't mind.

In fact, Jimin quite likes your company whenever he bumps into you. Is quite glad you're not weird around him just because you've had sex. If anything, it gives him high hopes that maybe you'll be up for round two on the nights he can't find anyone else. To be honest, it'd make you the perfect candidate for a friends-with-benefits type situation with him. He hasn't had one of those in a while.

He doesn't share this thought process with Jeongguk. Isn't sure how well received it would be. See, Jeongguk's been incredibly vocal about how embarking on a friends-with-benefits situation is potentially the stupidest thing a person can do.

He'd lost his best friend - the girl he could have spent his life with - that way. Hasn't spoken to his favourite person in months because her new boyfriend doesn't like her hanging out with people she used to fuck. Makes sense. He can't argue against it.

He can think about it in the quiet hours of the early mornings, though, and weep a little out of frustration with how fucked up the best thing in life became.

There's a naive hope within him now that thinks he's fixing his previous wrongs with you. Doing things he's already done, without taking it too far, this time. A broken heart can't fall in love, after all. It's different.

Your eyes land on his; dark and frightfully deep. He's not sure what you're thinking. Tells himself it's better that way.

"My hands," he corrects. "Eyes on my hands, Byeol. Watch what I'm doing."

It takes you a moment to pull your eyes from his - and when you do, something about it feels catastrophic . Paint covers the skin of your chest; only a few small gaps of exposed skin are still on display. He squeezes. Moves his fingers. Doesn't specifically aim to cover those spots, but know it's the end goal.

There's a muffled moan hiding in your throat; revelations of a lost pleasure that you've refused to let yourself indulge in.

"Gguk-" you begin, but he hushes you.

"Just feel it. Watch it."

And so you do. His chin rests on your shoulder, watching your body, keeping an eye on the way your heartbeat begins to calm, yet races all the same. The ink on his hand is hidden by the paint, his forearms just as much of a mess as your chest. You fight your instincts which tell you to close your eyes; to lean into his touch.

The moan that's made it home in your throat decides it's been trapped for too long. It tickles at your lips, vibrates into the room. You catch it with a gasp, and Jeongguk can't help but let an airy smirk fall from his lips.

He never thought you were kidding about how much you liked it, but it's different seeing it in the flesh. There's an insolent nature to his teasing, and it makes you want to fucking whine.

"How does it feel, Byeol?"

Your eyes flick up to his, your lips resting ajar. The heaving of your chest is far easier to see when he stops massaging your chest. You smirk back at him. Roll your eyes.

"You don't wanna know," you tell him, because as much as he tried to make out that none of this would be sexual, your body doesn't agree.

And honestly, nor does his.

"No," he says, closing the minuscule gap he's been keeping between his crotch and your ass. The corners of his lips twitch upwards when you feel it - feel him - press against you. "I think I do wanna know."

His smirk is laced in sin, dark eyes hazy, as your chest begins to stutter all over again. You bring your hand to rest over one of his. Encourage his movements. Let your eyes close. Don't hide the moan that travels through you.

"I thought you said this wasn't gonna be sexual," you eventually say a little breathlessly. You encourage his movements still, just to let him know you're not entirely opposed to it.

"It's not," he purrs against your ear, and presses himself against you again, a little firmer this time. His breath is hot against your skin as you lean your head back, a laboured grunt stuck now in his throat. You can feel his heartbeat against your back.

You let your eyes rest on him in the reflection. Take a moment to read his face, and decide you've no idea what this man is thinking.

Truth be told, he's not really having any cognitive thoughts.

"You're hard," you tell him.

His eyes rest shut, a bashful smile on his giddy lips, neck turning ever so slightly to rest his forehead against your hair. And then he whispers, "Don't tell me you're not wet, Byeol."

"Mhhm," you moan with a little humour. "Dry as the Sahara, buddy."

"God, if my hands weren't covered in paint-"

"You'd what?" you interrupt with a sardonic smile. "This isn't sexual, remember?"

He scrunches his face up. Looks at you. Looks at your chest. Looks away from the mirror, and down to watch his movements. He alters his pace, playing with your tits just for the fun of it, seeing how he can toy with them. It might not be what usually gets him keen, but he can see why you attract boob guys; can also understand why your ex would keep coming back if he is a boob guy.

"You ever do this to yourself? Like, for fun?" He asks, ignoring your last question, seemingly hypnotised by the overspill between his fingers, and the way it jiggles for him.

"Like non-sexually?"

"Mhhm," he says as he repositions himself. Cups the undersides of your boobs. Lets his thumbs flick against your nipples. You moan in a way he hasn't heard before. Does it again. Same result.

"Fuck," you hiss. "Yeah, I do it - fuck, Gguk - for fun. Not like this though. This is-"

"Just for getting you wet?"

Yes.

"I'm not wet."

"Such a liar, Byeol."

His fingers pinch, gently clasping at your nipples. Has you mewling. Has you amazed you haven't been letting anyone do this during sex. You've been making yourself suffer to solidify your heartbreak. Maybe if you'd have been fucking people how you like to be fucked, instead of using it as a tool of validation, you'd have found the whole thing a bit easier. Or perhaps not. Perhaps you'll never know.

"Are you trying to make me wet?" You challenge, eyes on him, watching the way he's watching himself.

He shakes his head. Nestles it against your hair. Likes the scent of your shampoo. Inhales a little deeper. Is breathless when he rasps, "just helping out a friend. How your body reacts to me is its own problem."

You scoff. "My body's reaction has got nothing to do with you."

"No?" His grip tightens. You whine.

"Gguk-" is all you can manage, chest heaving, heart in your throat. Your back is arching, pushing your chest further into his grasp.

He's about to mock you; about to tease you a little more. Make some dumb remark, you sure, something that will have you fighting back against him - but it's interrupted.

"Hey, Jeongguk?" A voice shouts from the living room. "You in?"

The way Jeongguk pulls away from you is so abrupt you almost lose balance. He pulls a shirt from his chair, chucks it in your direction without looking back and darts for the door at such speed, you wouldn't be surprised to see him in a comic book like one of his damn figurines.

He opens the door just a crack, keeping you hidden, ignoring the fact his door handle is now slathered in black paint - the corner of his pristine white wall, too.

"Hey," he squeaks as Jimin stops in his tracks. He'd just been about to reach for Jeongguk's doorhandle to invite himself in, but the look on Jeongguk's face tells him to stay away.

Jimin raises an eyebrow. "This isn't suspicious at all."

Behind Jeongguk's head, Jimin can see his bed. It's made, not disturbed in the slightest, but the way Jeongguk is guarding the room makes it incredibly clear he was up to no good. It's all very amusing. Just out of his eye line is your bra.

"Was just letting you know I'm off out," he smirks. "But I'll leave you to it. Don't think I'll be back till morning, so stay safe, young padawan."

"Right," Jeongguk purses his lips, not wanting to give Jimin the satisfaction of confirming nor denying anything.

Jimin doesn't care to watch Jeongguk squirm. Would rather let him get back to whoever it is with him in his room. The kid's been out of action for so long that he's frankly pleased to see him acting so shifty. He's never known anyone who needs to get laid as much as Jeongguk does. Hopes this means he's finally over the last girl.

He turns on his heel, but calls back, "don't forget to wrap it up! Can't be arsed with baby-proofing the apartment."

"Jesus Christ," Jeongguk mutters as he closed his door. He rests his head on the frame for a moment, before turning his head to find you in a state of absolute horror.

"Gguk!" You whisper, eyes wide, heart thumping into your chest. The shirt he'd thrown at you is still on the floor because it's a white shirt, and you weren't stupid enough to actually pick it up. You kick back across to his chair, hands covering your chest without touching them. You don't want to end up as messy as he is.

Jeongguk strides across to you with a scrunched-up face and just moves your arms, laughing to himself slightly as he cups your breasts in his hands. He holds them firmly. Squeezes an apology. Admittedly, you do feel more protected like this.

"Shush, shush," he coos quietly, a stupid smile plastered all over his face. His hands are temperate, but they squeeze at you a little as his shoulders lift ever so slightly. "He's not out the door yet."

There's a pause as you both wait with bated breath. There's a faint click, which Jeongguk knows is the front door going, so he nods. A second click follows.

"You're safe," he laughs, and you can't help but laugh, too. Your hands instinctively come up to cover your chest, but his hands are already there, so you drop them again. His forehead rests against yours. His frivolous energy is contagious, the pair of you breathlessly giggling at the weird fucking situation you're in. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you shake your head, keeping your forehead against his, almost brushing your nose with his. "Not your fault."

"Got a little carried away, though," he whispers, his smile fading as he harshly swallows back. "Should've tapped out. I should have said chess."

You shrug. Whisper, "takes two to tango."

The moment lingers. Wraps you both up in a ribbon, and ties a bow where his hands meet your chest. Safe and secure. A memory to be tucked away under your list of bad decisions, but for the moment, you'll convince yourself it was a good idea. You're not thinking of Seokjin, at least, and that was the real goal.

"Let's finish this off," he says, nodding over to the canvas. "We need more paint, though. I'm pretty sure I've literally, like, moisturised it into your skin. I don't think that's a good thing."

"It's definitely not a good thing," you cringe, knowing that your pores must be screaming beneath the acrylic. You wait for his grip to leave your chest, but it doesn't. It's only when you raise a brow and shake your head at him that he realises.

"Oh, right, yeah, yeah."

It's a lot more clumsy this time round. Jeongguk's second-guessing himself, almost as if he hasn't just spent God knows how long grappling with your tits. He laughs, and so do you, the pair of you finding every little thing hilarious. Perhaps it's nerves, or perhaps you're trying to play this off as something totally normal between friends, but either way, you think you're glad you're with him. Glad he took a chance on your birds.

"How do we even do this?" Jeongguk hums in confusion when he holds up the canvas. He puts it in all kinds of positions, but can't seem to figure out the best course of action. You tilt your head and mull it over.

"Gimmie it," you say softly, holding your hands out to retrieve it from him. His palms have left prints on the edges, but it doesn't matter. Turning to the mirror, you can't help but smile at how much of a mess you are. Such a stupid idea, and yet it's worked perfectly. "Okay, stand behind me again - keep your boner away from me this time, though."

"My God, I don't even have one anymore," he whines, and it's true. It's just a semi.

"Sure," you tease, but begin to instruct him further. "Hold them, like, underneath. How you did earlier. Yeah, yeah, that's it," you nod.

His long fingers support the base of your breasts, his thumbs resting on the sides. Chin on the top of your head, it's a lot less intimate than it had been. This, you think, could be argued as non-sexual.

A momentary lapse in judgement is fine, and that's what you'll chalk earlier up to.

It's not like there are set rules to this whole arrangement. Mistakes will be made; bad decisions, too. What matters is that you don't make the same ones twice.

"Okay," you muse quietly, holding the canvas up to your chest, trying to line it up perfectly. "I'm gonna press down. Keep still."

Jeongguk doesn't dare move. Too scared you'll notice his semi and tell him off for being a randy bastard. It's circumstantial. He's never spent so long holding a pair of tits. It's just... hormones. Maybe. He isn't really sure.

Pressing the canvas against your poised chest, you apply as much pressure as you can, trying to get the imprint. You're mumbling affirmations of a good job to yourself - "Okay, good. Just a little more. Little more pressure, c'mon." - before pulling it away.

It almost peels, the paint a little tacky, but sure enough, the imprint is there, and pretty damn perfect if you do say so yourself. A pleased, albeit a little surprised, laugh escapes your lips.

"Oh, that's fucking cool," Jeongguk beams. "Looks like one of those inkblot tests."

He's not wrong. There are two well-defined black circles, the imprints differing ever so slightly, smudging outwards. To you, it's plainly obvious it's a pair of tits - but then again, they are your tits. It's a lived, breathed experience of yours. Anyone else looking might mistake them for something else.

"Mmm," you agree. "What do you see?"

You're holding it up in front of you, blocking the mirror from your view. Jeongguk's head dips to your shoulder, where his pointy chin rests but you don't complain. One of his structured hands eases, slipping to a more natural grasp on your boob, while the other drops. It slinks around the front of your waist, his forearm keeping your back pressed against his chest.

"Big ol' pair of titties," he says in potentially the most childish voice he could have chosen. You pull away from his grasp and give him a look of disgust. "Sorry, I mean... not a pair of tits?"

"You're a fucking child, Jeon," you scold, to which he tells you that he's actually very mature and you're just being a boring old bint. Turning back around to study it a little more, you tilt your head. It's missing something. Jeongguk's grasp on you had never fully eased, but both of his hands rest now at the dips of your waist. You pay it no mind. "I think we should add to it."

"Watcha thinking?"

"Not sure," you muse. "It is a little bit too obvious."

"So you're saying it does look like a big pair of-"

"Oh my God," you groan, walking away from him and to where the paint is sitting pretty. "Lie down."

"Sorry?"

"You heard me. Lie down."

You don't look at him as you say your commands, instead you spend your time picking between the paints. The silver is your favourite, but as much as he likes to wear it in the form of jewellery, you know that gold is his colour. It's the one that suits him best - or at least, suits who he is.

He's hesitant, but he does as you say. He lies on his back horizontally across the bed, like how the pair of you do when you look at the birds, one of his arms resting over his stomach. He looks up to them now, no smile on his lips, but an overwhelming sense of contentedness.

Before you, he used to look at the birds and feel guilt. Was harbouring feelings that he'd told everyone he had let go of. They're still there, but they're diluted. Too much of you filling the empty spaces for him to dwell on the birds made for her instead.

You come to perch next to him on the bed, sat on your ankles as his gaze falls to yours with great curiosity.

"What are you doing, Byeol?"

With a smile, you say nothing - just uncap the paint lid, and turn it on its end over the top of his chest. He doesn't object. Just watches you quietly. Patiently. Hisses when the chill of the paint comes into contact with his skin, but lets you do as you please.

Capping it shut with a click, you reach over to put the paint on his bedside table. Still shirtless, Jeongguk watches the way your tits move, and doesn't even try to hide it.

"Eyes up here," you say as you regain full posture, but he keeps his eyes on your tits.

"Can't. Hypnotised."

You're laughing as you roll your eyes. "Such a liar, Mr 'I'm an Ass Guy' ."

He finally looks at you, almost in horror, thanks to the accent you just did impersonate him. "Is that how you think I sound?!"

"It is how you sound," you tell him, knowing that you should have deepened your voice. Instead, you'd deliberately raised it a few octaves. "I'm a voice actress in my spare time," you lie. "I've been told I have perfect pitch on many occasions. That was an exact replica of your voice."

It's said with such a straight face that it would be believable if it wasn't for the fact that Jeongguk does have perfect pitch. His music teacher always tried to make him pursue a musical career, but he was fearful of failure. Didn't want to put himself out there just to get rejected.

"I can't believe I'm friends with you," he mutters as your finger begins to draw over his chest with the paint. "Most annoying girl I've ever met - shit -" he winces as you flick his nipple, his hand coming to rub at it almost immediately. "Byeol!"

"Hmm?" you smile. "Sorry were you saying something?"

He says nothing, just narrows his eyes at you as you get back to work, spreading the paint over his chest.

"We've already got an imprint of my tits," you muse, pressing the metallic gold into his muscles, quietly in awe over his physique. "And now I wanna get an imprint of your tits, too. Over the top of mine. I think it'll look cool."

"You mean my pecks?"

"Yeah, sure," you say. "Your tits."

"They're pecks!"

"Okay?"

"One of those birds better have 'fixing my attitude problem' on them," Jeongguk huffs, but it's all in good humour. You tell him your attitude is golden - just like his tits are. "They're fucking pecks!"

Reaching over for the canvas, your golden palms are just clumsy as his had been, leaving little marks on the edge of the canvas. Laughter fills his room as you try and decide how to place it, with the pair of your twisting and turning the canvas to try and figure out your best bet. You don't want to obscure your tits entirely, but his chest is broad.

"Don't think you thought this through," Jeongguk teases. "You just wanted an excuse to touch my chest."

You flick his nipple again.

"Jesus Christ! One more time and I'll-"

Oh , how you love a threat. Can't wait to see if it's a promise.

And so you flick the other.

"Right, that's it."

It'd be a lie if you said you knew exactly where he flung the canvas - you were too busy trying to avoid his grasp as he got to his feet - but there are only so many places you can run to in his room.

In fact, you only actually get about three steps away by the time his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his grasp. The paint on his chest is slick against your back, but he doesn't really think about it as he turns you around, pressing you up against the window that doesn't have the curtain pulled shut.

His large hand clasps both of your wrists, holding them above your head just to keep them away from his damn nipples. The chase was minimal, the catch far too easy - and yet you're both breathless. Chests heaving. Your nipples are gilded in gold. He's far too fucking close.

"Gguk-"

"What did I say about flicking my nipples?" He looks down at you, desperately trying not to smirk. The anger he's feigning is convincing, but even if he was furious, he's painted like a chryselephantine statue. In all fairness, he's got the body to match. A Greecian God if you ever did see one.

"Can't help it," you pout. "Your tits are just so perky."

He doesn't even insist on the fact they're pecks this time. Just lets his eyes drop to your tits, then back to your eyes. Repeats this four or five times. Shakes his head.

"If that's the metric we're going with, Byeol, then you're well overdue half a dozen nipple flicks."

"Nooo," you whine, squirming to get out of his grasp. He doesn't let you immediately, but ultimately decides it's for the best. Needs to calm himself down. Can't be having another repeat of the night before.

As soon as his grasp eases, you bolt away from him, and retrieve the canvas from the foot of his bed. He notices the gold on his window, and ignores it. Will deal with it later. It's an easy fix. A logical one.

For now, he's got a half-naked force of a woman in his room that he doesn't know how the fuck to deal with. No logic, no reason, no rhyme seems to help him figure you out.

"Please can we finish the canvas?" you say sweetly, as if you haven't been the one derailing things every single step of the way.

He says nothing. Spread his arms wide. Beckons you forward.

Pressing the canvas to his chest, you throw all of your deliberations out of the window. You don't really care for the outcome, now. Just know that the pair of you need to not be topless anymore.

It's platonic, yeah, but it is tempting.

The canvas peels much like it did when your impression was made, the paint tacky on his skin. The pair of you are dumbfounded as you take in the result for the first time.

It's fucking beautiful .

Metallic gold weaves around the black, overlaying ever so serenely, creating an abstract interaction between the shapes.

"What do you see now?" you ask softly, quietly proud of your creation together.

"I see a masterpiece," he grins, and that arm of his that likes hooking around your waist so much finds its favourite spot once more. His chin is on your head. "And you know what else?"

"What?"

"Look there -" he points to a small 'v' shape, just above the imprint of your chest that's free of gold. "Looks to me like a bird."

"Holy shit."

"A fear set free," he muses.

"Well done us," you beam, holding your hand up for him to high-five. He does so with ease, before reaching for the canvas and propping it up on his desk.

"C'mon," he grips onto your shoulders. Eases you forward and to his bedroom door. Reaching round to open it, he lets his hands fall to your waist, and then back up to cup your tits as you walk together. "Shower."

"Are you ever gonna let go of them now?" You laugh, finally pointing out just how bloody handsy he is.

"Don't think so."

"Brilliant."

He eventually does let them go as you're both washing your hands beneath the tap of his bathroom sink.

"Got a little paint in your hair," Jeongguk says as you're drying your hands. He goes to twiddle at it in an attempt the break the dry paint down. It's not a lot, but it does mean you'll need to wash your hair to avoid the bleached strands from staining.

"Shit," you curse, knowing that Jeongguk definitely won't have any silver shampoo, nor will he have anything more than a bog-standard conditioner.

"Hold on," he says, moving you to the side to rummage in the cupboard beneath the sink. There's a small clatter of bottles as he pulls a basket from the back of the shelf with a triumphant smile.

It's a grin that's quietly pleased, lips thin, pressed together, lip ring flipping in that way which always makes you smile. The basket itself is just as interesting as Jeongguk's face - a myriad of coloured tubes, and lo-and-behold, the same brand of silver shampoo you use.

"Jimin had a phase," he explains. "Well, no actually, he's had a few - but this is from the coloured hair phase. You need the purple shit, right?"

You nod. "The purple shit."

"Take what you need," he says as he gets back to his full posture, leaving the room only to return a moment later with a bottle of conditioner in hand. You know the brand. It's pricey. You only buy it when it's on sale. You furrow your brows, and he just shrugs. "I keep my good towels out of the bathroom, Jimin keeps his good conditioner out of it instead."

It's funny, 'cause you do exactly the same. Danbi has been blessed with hair from the Gods, so never has to pay much attention to what she uses. A string of bad dye jobs and unhealthy heat habits have left you with a deep conditioning complex, and there's nothing worse than going for a shower and realising the conditioner you paid and an arm and a leg for is all gone.

Will this stop you from using Jimin's special conditioner? No, absolutely not. You care more about your hair than you do about his annoyance.

"How are we doing this?" You ask casually as Jeongguk starts the shower up.

"Well," he contemplates far too hard for the sentence that follows. "I think we get in the shower, and then I think we... shower?"

"Right," you nod, as he grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Silly me. Of course it's that simple."

"Well it can be," he shrugs. "We both know we didn't really do the shower bird to completion, and aren't we saying 'fuck it', now? So why not?"

He's got a point. You feel far less on edge about the whole showering thing since the last time. It's like you've been working through it in stages, and it's helped.

"So..." you say quietly. "I don't know about you, Gguk, but I normally shower naked."

He just shrugs. "Really, Byeol? Do you not think we've already crossed that boundary? I'm quite literally staring at your tits right now."

You look down to your exposed chest, and suppose he's right.

"Just... don't look, okay? You get in the shower first and like, face the wall or something."

As much as he thinks you're being ridiculous and that it really doesn't matter, he agrees. Your birds are, after all, all about you, and what you're comfortable with. Just because he is doesn't mean you will be.

He strips down, and discards his clothes into a pile. He'd be lying if he said he was entirely confident, but he definitely feels the pressure a lot less than you do.

"I'm in," he says encouraging you to follow suit.

Against your better judgement, you do.

You toss you trousers on top of his, panties too, and make your way into his shower. It's warm, just the right temperature, still set to Jimin's preference from earlier.

"Now was that so hard?" Jeongguk asks, still facing the wall.

"No," you say airily. "I can see why you're an ass guy."

He turns his head, and sure enough, your eyes are on his ass. "Double standards."

"It's really good," you say, a little in shock at just how toned it is; how you'd kill for yours to be as peachy as his. "But you're right, you're right - I'm sorry."

"Can I at least turn around now?" He asks. "Seeing as you've already broken rule number one."

"What rule?!"

"Looking! You set the bloody rule!"

"Oh yeah," you grimace. Part of you considers turning around, but in all honesty, you don't want his ass-loving eyes to fall on yours and be disappointed. "Um, yeah. Sure. You can turn."

He's cupping his balls as he does so, hiding himself. It's sort of sweet in a way, and matches your own awkward stance.

"C'mon," he says, knocking his head back, encouraging you further into the stream of water. "Need to wash you off."

"You need to?"

"Well, yeah? Only fair. I'm the one who got you like that." He senses your hesitation, and offers you an out. "Or you can do it. I don't mind either way."

And for some reason, you don't actually seem to mind the suggestion. "Go for it."

He steps a little closer. "Say the word and I'll stop."

You reach for his hands. Lift them to your chest. "I don't think I'll say it."

He begins to massage at them, easing the paint off ever so gently, but it's stubborn. "Could do with some shower gel. Scent preference?"

"Hmm, strawberry?"

"Great choice."

You still find the fact he has more than one shower gel on the go hilarious, but you enjoy having a choice. It's one of the fantastic things about Jeongguk; you're never backed into a corner. He'll always give you an option. A way out.

And yet as he gets reacquainted with your chest, you don't think you want one. The things that scared you before - forgetting Seokjin, losing his touch - seem like a world away. Yes, it's different with Jeongguk, but it doesn't mean that it erases what you had with Seokjin. It also doesn't mean that you have to subject yourself to a life of boring sex just because you're harbouring guilt from a relationship breakdown that really wasn't your fault at all.

Seokjin had strayed, though. Made you feel like there was something wrong with you. Had you questioning the things you thought he'd loved about you - your tits included.

Seeing how Jeongguk - a self-professed ass guy - reacts to them has been so validating. So needed. Will do you wonders in the future, you're sure.

It's as he's kneading at your tits that you notice he's becoming a little moany, too. A little unstrained. God, it's so satisfying.

He closes his eyes. Rests his forehead on yours. Squeezes around your tits as he swallows so harshly you think you can almost hear it. Nods, and then says, "Still an ass guy - but fucking hell, Byeol. You might convert me."

You laugh now, and Jeongguk is obsessed with the way your boobs slide beneath his fingers, sopping wet and moving in time with your body. He still doesn't open his eyes.

"Fun aren't they?"

Again, he just nods. Doesn't wanna think about anything too hard.

If he does, he knows he'll have to deal with the fact his cock is now hard, too.

He thanks the high heavens that you just aren't mentioning it, because there's no way you haven't noticed.

It's not like he meant for it to happen. One moment he was trying to be respectful, and the next all he could think about it how soft and warm they are in his grasp. Was all beyond his control.

Thing is, Jeongguk has no idea how hard it is for you to resist reaching down for it. It feels like second nature; like it's what you should do.

But it's a boundary that's still intact, and you'd like to keep as many of those as possible.

So would he - but he's fucking solid , throbbing, balls tight. Can't remember the last time he got like this. Sure he's been hard. Been horny. But this is on another level.

And so he just says fuck it.

Tells you so.

"Byeol if I don't cum in the next five minutes I think I'm gonna die."

His admission takes you by surprise. You want to laugh, but remain deadly serious as you say, "I think you'll be fine."

"No," he insists. "I will actually die."

"How?"

"Ruptured ballsack?" He grimaces. "I don't know, but I do know that my life is quite literally flashing before my eyes right now."

"Poor baby," you pout, and stroke at his hair just to wind him up a little bit more.

"Don't," he whines. "I'm one more sarcastic comment away from sucking your tits just to shut you up. You know how many pairs of tits I've sucked?" He doesn't wait for an answer. " None . Always thought it was weird. But now? I'm so horny I'm literally delirious. Willing to do anything ."

Yeah right, you think.

"That's not very platonic of you," you state, using the exact tone of voice you know is winding him up.

"Byeol, I said one more."

"One more what?"

"God," he lets out a tortured sob. "It's like you want me to suck your tits."

"Me? Want that? Never ."

"But it wasn't on the bird," he says, as if the birds really do dictate every single one of his actions. "Can't do it."

"In all fairness, Gguk, nor was anything else that happened tonight. It was literally just the word ' tits '."

He tries to think straight, but he really can't. Doesn't know what's come over him. Maybe he's just tired. Maybe he just never knew how much he liked tits. Either way, he's absolutely done for.

He runs his thumbs over your nipples, and - fuck - the way you moan really does have him wanting to take them in his mouth. It's always been a no-go for him. Always thought the concept was a bit weird.

But it's all he can think about, now.

All he wants.

"Oh my god," he whines, again, obviously going through a little inner turmoil. His forehead drops to your shoulder. "Why do I want it? Why do I wanna suck your tits?"

"Mummy issues."

"Byeol! You're not helping."

"Just get yourself off," you laugh. "Once you get the orgasm out of you, you'll be able to think straight."

He nods. Knows you're right. "What about you? Do you need to?"

You've a much better grasp on your desperation than he does. You're a brat through and through, and find it hilarious that men seem to think they 'tame' you. In reality, you're the one who calls the shots. You're always in control. Just let them think they are.

With Jeongguk, you've not needed to play up for him, so you don't realise how unaware he is of the fact your inner thighs are coated in your slickness.

"Can do," you shrug.

"That's not a yes."

You roll your eyes. "Look at me."

He does as he's told, and you decide very quickly that he would be so incredibly easy to turn into your bitch if you wanted him to be. It's cute. His lips are parted, brows pushed together, a crease forming above his nose. He really does look like he might die. Poor baby.

Dipping your hands to where your legs part, you run two fingers along your folds, and hold them up for Jeongguk to see. You separate your fingers, the clear fluid suspended between the two of them. He whines again. Rests his head on your shoulder.

"The bird," he says. "The bird that we kinda did, but didn't do."

"What of it?" you toy, knowing exactly what he wants.

"Can we?" He rasps, unable to get his sentence out. One of his hands is on your chest, the other pressed flat to the tiles beside your head. His cock is desperate for contact. His hips are pulsing against nothing. If he doesn't grip onto it soon, he's gonna rut too far and end up touching you.

"You wanna get off together?"

He just nods. Mewls. "Please just give me the green light, Byeol. Please ."

And as much as you want to keep fucking with him, it feels cruel now. His veins are engorged, flooded with blood, in desperate need of him to do something - anything - to have his heart beating normally again.

"Okay," you whisper. "Get yourself off."

He doesn't waste a second. Has his hand around his cock by the time you've finished the sentence. The change in his breathing is stark. There's a moan caught with every tug on his cock, his hand moving at a speed you didn't was humanely possible.

And it excites you.

Has you clasping the tit that he isn't currently holding onto for dear life, while your other hand sinks to your folds. You're soaked , clit throbbing, begging for even the faintest bit of attention. When Jeongguk hears you moan too, he thinks he's done for. Holds his cock so tight he's scared he'll ruin his orgasm.

You know your body though. Know how to get yourself off within a minute when duty calls.

"Keep going," you tell him. "I can get close."

"That quickly?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Women are magic," you say between pants, dipping your fingers into your entrance for a little bit of fiction to your g-spot, just enough to really get you there.

"Fucking magic," he husks, his body edging a little closer to yours. You don't mind. In fact, you think you'll prefer it, so you let go of your chest and encourage him to close the gap. Your hand is on his waist, pulling him closer. He looks up. Regrets it, 'cause he never needed to see you looking like this. Doesn't ever wanna fuckin' look away. "Sure?"

"Mhhm," you moan, unable to get a word out because of how close you are - and then you can feel the tip of his cock press against your stomach, just below your ribcage. His movements are frantic.

"I'm not gonna last."

"Then don't."

His forehead rests on yours, the pair of you breathing so heavily that you're basically surviving on one another. Inhale, exhale. You're one and the same.

"Oh, fuck," you mewl, so incredibly close. Your fingers massage at your pussy just how you like it; spank against your clit a little, tease it to the near point of no return. "Gguk, I'm about to-"

"Me too," he chokes. "Where?"

"It's fine," you husk, knowing he's asking where to cum. "It's okay. I don't mind."

"Sure?"

"Just cum, Gguk."

"Shit."

The release is just as undignified as the build. The pair of you are messes, whining as you come undone together. The voltage runs from the tips of your toes to the tops of your fingers, so intense that they go fucking numb for a moment. You're overstimulated almost as soon as it hits, unable to do anything but pant against his shoulder.

The tip of Jeongguk's cock is pressed against your skin, his release painting you in the most glorious sin. He cums, but it feels like it never stops. Every time you think it has, he whines again, wanks a little more, unloads another spurt onto your torso. It trails down your hip, to your thigh and then sinks to the shower floor; washed away like a bad decision never to be repeated.

Breathlessness overcomes the pair of you, remaining as you are for a few moments, until Jeongguk finally breaks it.

"I swear I never usually cum that fast."

You just laugh. Pat his head. "Sure."

"Fuck off, I don't," he says, laughing now too. "Christ. What the fuck was that, Byeol?"

He lifts his posture from how it's rested against you, turning to press his shoulders to the tiles beside you. The shower is still running, so he reaches over to turn it off. Neither of you are fully clean yet, but you'll get back to it in a moment. No point in running his water bill up just because he can.

"Well," you exhale. "I think you just discovered boobs."

He laughs. Tilts his head back against the tiles. Bites his lips as he shakes his head. "To be fair, I think you might be right."

You laugh now too, and that's how the evening remains; full of laughter. Jokes about how platonic and totally friendly the entire exchange has been. There's no weirdness, but in all honesty, you never thought there would be.

Jeongguk lends you a pair of sweats and one of his shirts after the shower, your hair air drying beautifully thanks to Jimins oh-so-expensive conditioner. You feel a little bad for using it now, but you made him cum once, so you think you're even.

"And when Jimin asks where it's come from?" You question as you watch from Jeongguk's sofa while he hangs your artwork up on the wall. It's next to the television. Really fucking hard to miss. Will be the first thing he notices.

"I'll just say it's one of Tae's," Jeongguk shrugs.

"And when Tae comes round?"

"I'll... think of another lie?"

"Sounds foolproof," you muse, sipping on your glass of water, thinking that he's possibly the biggest idiot you know.

"Either way, neither of them will know what it is, or who made it. It'll be a mystery. Wait, unless," he stops himself. Furrows his brows together. Tries to join dots in his head. Even uses his hands to help with the mental work. "Would Jimin be able to tell?"

Your lips purse up, forming a thin line between your cheeks. You shake your head.

"No?"

"No," you say. "He never... Well, I meant what I said about them. Keeping them off limits. Or at least, kept."

"Yeah," Jeongguk nods, accepting your truth, but thinking of hypotheticals. "Did he not see them, like, at all?"

"Um," you say to buy time, questioning how much you should divulge. "You really wanna know?"

Jeongguk shrugs. Nods his head again. Makes no difference to him.

You adjust in your seat, trying to think of how to phrase the events of your night with Jimin, and finally settle on, "Well, I was fully clothed -"

"What?"

"- And we did it from behind." You watch as Jeongguk stays silent for a moment. He's doing that thinking face of his again. The hand is moving. Figuring things out. And then you realise what he's doing. "No! Gross! Don't imagine it!"

"I'm just trying to get a visual!" He protests with a small pout. "Just trying to understand how!"

"My god," you cringe, hiding your head in your hands. "Never should have done that bird with you."

Jeongguk rolls his eyes as he comes to sit beside you, admiring his handiwork. He actually really likes the painting. Is glad you added him to it, too.

"Yes, you should have," he says. "You admitted it yourself, you kept your tits off-limits, but it's clearly a big part of sex for you, right?"

You nod, not looking at him, but up at the canvas. It really is pretty. "Right."

"If you could do all that with me, you can do it with anyone else. It'll make a huge difference to how satisfying you find casual sex, which is like, the whole goal, right?"

And again, you nod.

"Exactly," he beams. "Now, say 'thank you Jeongguk'."

"I'm not saying thank you," you laugh. "You literally got cum on my feet. You should be thanking me."

"Oh my god," he groans. "I'm never showering with you again."

"It wasn't the shower that was the issue!"

The pair of you bicker a little more, until the reality of it being the early hours of the morning kicks in. You're both yawning, hardly able to keep your eyes open. He offers up his bed, but you'd feel guilty taking it two nights in a row, so call for a taxi instead.

You're still in his clothes, but you'll just return them the inevitable next time.

He tells you to let him know when you get home safe, and you do, only for him to reply a few minutes later with a message that makes you consider blocking him.

Jeongguk: Still an ass guy, btw.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter ⅰ. "loved by."

— His Cologne.

An/Cw; innocent forehead and neck kisses. Touching. Some arguing. Briefest mentions of domestic violence and scars(other characters). Lots and lots and LOTS of world building. Read prologue, or you'll be v confused. Idk how to word count on here or know how corporate people talk goodbye. (Also I don't have favorites, i love all my men equally)

Wonwoo had another toss and turn night. He's gotten less and less sleep these past weeks than he's ever had in his entire life. His mind can't stop wondering. He's plagued by nightmares of their missing soulmate. The one who begged as she pulled away. Cried like she was being tortured. It transfers into his dreams. Haunted him when he woke up grasping the sheets. Gasping for air every time. Only to realize she wasn't there next to him.

"Hey." Mingyu side steps wonwoo, having just woken up himself, the house was fairly empty, many of the guys were doing their shoots, filming, and/or out. Because of that, wonwoo and mingyu have the house to themselves. The only sound of birds chirping could be heard through cracks in the windows. Gyu pulls a bowl and a bag of cereal, pouring himself some. He glances at wonwoo, occasionally watching him stir breakfast in a large pan. After pouring some milk, he leans against the kitchen counter. Eyeing wonwoos quiet behavior.

"What's wrong?" Yes. He already knows the answer. He can feel something has been awry with wonwoo since.. well. A while. "Nothing.." he lies with a sigh, looking over his glasses at mingyu. Gyu slurps the cereal off his spoon. "Bullsh1t," he mumbles through a mouthful, wonwoo grimaces. "You've been off for weeks, don't tell cheol I'm saying this, but.. You're not telling us either. Not even i know what's wrong.." mingyu looks up through his lashes, stirring his cereal half hazerdly.

Before wonwoo replies, mingyu is chewing through another bite. Wonwoo sighs. His eyes are cast back down to his wrist. The golden goldfish taunts him. "I met another.. one of us, the fourteenth one." it's so casually said. Gyu chokes on his bite. Coughing and sputtering into the sink. "What? Like.." he points to the spot right under his own ear. There's a mark there, small, barely noticeable. It's uncompleted and messy. Saturn, surrounded by its rings.

Wonwoo nods.

You're gonna get fired, but maybe it's what you deserve. Your boss was somewhat upset you left without saying goodbye. Eunha has always been a kind soul to you. You've spent all your time sucking up to her for weeks. Anything to distract you. You mindlessly play with your ear. Caressing your own soul mark. Everyone is born with their own soul mark. It isn't until later their soulmates' mark comes through. You were born with saturn behind your right earlobe, tiny specks of the galaxy shining behind it, the colors vibrant against your skin tone.

You're taking a walk after work. Already dressed to visit some places you had on your bucket list. Not to toot your own horn, but you're feeling better. There's nothing wrong with pampering yourself every once in a while.

"Thank you," you tell the cashier as she checks you out. Bags upon bags lay on your arms when you step out back into the street. Shops line back to back, you glance at each. Taking your time. Spring is almost in full bloom. You find yourself wanting to go out more to enjoy the things you haven't taken the time to before. Your eyes scan every sign, every decoration you enjoy or find adorable. You slow to a stop in front of a bus stop. You glance at the advertisements and help wanted posters.

'Soul mark removal session - book by appointment,' the paper reads. 'Lee Hyun,' the soul doctor in the paper smiles brightly. You want to look away, to pretend you didn't see it for some reason. Yet you reach out and pull off a piece of paper with a number. Turning it over and then shoving it in your pocket.

Not even the next hour you're calling the number, your fingers tap against your marble counter as you wait for the dial tone on speaker. You're on hold for ten minutes. The price of morals is high on your mind. "Hello, this Jane with Soul Surge. How may I help you today?" Your conversation with the desk lady is quick, yet you're still tapping your fingers in anticipation as you continue booking your appointment. "And you will be billed two days after your first appointment. How would you like to pay? Alright.." her keyboard clicks.

"Alright, I have scheduled an appointment for you with Dr. Lee, would you like a reminder? " Before you know it, you're done talking and hanging up. An appointment next week. You sigh, the burden on your shoulder still feels heavy. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

The next week comes sooner than later. You're lacking with work because you're so distracted. You bite your lip and toss before sleep the day before. You stare at yourself in a mirror. The first time you've worn clothes that show the majority of your soul marks. Your face grows ever redder at what people will think. For such a young girl to have so many marks on her? It feels scandalous. You pull a jacket over. Although the weather reads warmer than it has all week.

You're called into Dr. Lees office. You're sat across his pristine white desk. "What can I do for you today?" He starts off, a kind smile on his aged lips. You sigh "well I have thirteen soul marks. And I would like to get them removed. " You emphase with your hands, eyebrows furrowed. "That certainly is a number, I admit I do not think I've had a customer with that many, but that shouldn't be a problem. May I take a look?"

You show him all the ones you can reach on your own. If he's surprised, you can't tell. He throws away his gloves, sliding back into his chair. "I'm able to remove only a few of your soulmates' marks on you at a time, but if I can remove your own mark fully, then with time, the others should dissappear." You nod. There is a solution, after all. "And, sorry but- I've heard that after the mark is removed, the person who removed them feels..lonely?"

He laughs lightly, "No, no, that is a complete urban legend." You let out the air you're holding. It's too good to be true. And you're right. "But the other people involved, the other soulmate or soulmates will go through major discomfort, uhm, it will go away in less than a year, permanently. If you are to get it removed, you will never be able to make a connection with your soulmate." his tone is somewhat cheerful. Yet the dread in your stomach builds as he goes on.

"Oh," you don't have a response to his words. He notices your face dropping. "But, like I mentioned. the discomfort feeling should go away within a year-long period." He uses his hands to emphase his words. "And these - the discomfort feeling. How does it feel for the soulmates involved exactly?" You press, pulling your bag onto your lap to hug it. Comforting yourself.

"Well. The effect should take place directly after the removal process. They'll feel a slight burning, like an ant bite sensation. Eventually, after a few days, it'll turn into an urge to itch the spot. The spot will swell and redden within a couple of weeks, and soon enough, week by week, pieces of it will be absorbed through the skin. The symptoms may vary depending on the person. Nowadays, there are creams to help with the symptoms and process."

You bid the Dr goodbye.

Before your treck home, you decide to visit some more attraction spots while you're in the city. You're happy you can afford the luxuries, but you've already overgone your budget this month. You watch street performers, and occasionally, you'll grab a treat to take home to eat as you walk. One snack won't hurt. Your hands are in your jacket. Enjoying the afternoon breeze. In the back of your mind, you're thinking about the decision you want to make.

"Oh, excuse me!" A lady not much older than you apologizes as she bumps into you, her stomach is wide with pregnancy, two kids sit in a double stroller, no older than a year. She has her hands full. "Oh no, that's my fault," you wave her off politely, looking at the stairs behind her. "Would you like some help?" You offer, she smiles gratefully. "If it isn't too much to ask.." she laughs lightly. You're holding the end of the stroller as you slowly decend the stairs.

Once you reach the end of the stairs, she's bowing her head, thankfully. "Thanks, uhm.." You tell her your name. "What a lovely name, surely to bring good luck, I'm Kim Jiung," you smile. "Are you a shaman, perhaps?" She smiles back, pushing the stroller forward. You follow with a short pace. Stepping side by side. "My husband is," she continues, "when i was your age, he was the most desired shaman on the block." she laughs as she reminisces. "I met my husband asking for advice." she stops the stroller and lifts her long sleeved floral navy blue dress all the way up to her elbow. Scars litter most of her arm.

On the inner curve of her elbow is a crown placed on a perfectly red pillow, the diamonds in the crown shift as she turns it towards you. "That's when I found my soulmate," she cheerily smiles, pushing the stroller once again. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, yet it's a sweet story. "Because of the law placed for soulmates, i was able to divorce my husband at the time." A sad look crosses her face. "He was a women hitter. And a drunk. It got worse when I told him about my current husband, youngwin. The process took a year to complete." She smiles to herself at the end. "I wouldn't change the hurt for anything," her hand goes to caress her belly.

"Weren't you scared he'd reject you.. because you were married?" You ask suddenly. She's not taken aback in the slightest. "Never," she sighs peacefully. The sun sets to your left, and the sidewalk is void of many people. "He was the most understanding person in the world," she turns to look at you. "My parents never approved of my relationships. They didn't help me when my ex-husband got violent." She smiles sadly. "But my youngwin did," she turns to begin pushing the stroller again.

You stutter to a stop, watching as she takes a few steps ahead. She looks back to see where you are. Then she sits on a bench. She swings the stroller around to look at her babies, wiping her hand against one of their faces softly. "Healing takes a while on your own, but when you have support, it's much easier to get through the days," she coos at the kids softly. You feel sluggish as you walk over and sit next to her, the settling silence nips you.

You watch the children grasp onto their toys and laugh joyously at their mothers' tickles. Her soothing words bring out coos from the twins that make you smile. "How soon are you due?" You ask, turning to face her. She pats her stomach. "Only four and a half more months," she makes a motion, crossing her fingers. You laugh. "A summer baby, thankfully, I can not do any more winter due dates. i already have plenty of winter siblings," she finishes off, pulling out a snack for the twins. You hum quietly.

"I was an only child to three parents, even that was too much for them," you snicker. Leaning back on the bench, you watch the twins messily smack their food around. She turns to look at you.

"Sometimes children can make or break a couple." You know she doesn't mean anything by it. She's just feeding conversation. You're still reminded of that fateful June night. She takes notice of your silence and your distant expression. "I get it,.. it can be hard, but if you're willing to.. you know - talk to each other. That's always the first step to getting better." She smiles reassuringly. Squeezing the hand on your leg. "When my husband and I finalized our soul bond. I was scared of him not liking me - not my past. But me. It was hard for us to communicate." She sighs. Squeezing your hand again. Her eyes fall to your soul marks. Both on your wrists.

"But we got through it because he stayed, and he cared. And I wanted to get better for him, with him." she pats your hand. "Whatever it is, I'm genuinely sure it will work out for you." her gaze is soft and kind like a mother's. You find yourself giving a small smile back.

The week you met jiung your head swirled with unease, she takes some of it away with her advice. She's updated you on her life almost every day. You've become close friends, possibly even best friends in the span of the week. Although older than you she is definitely the more lively and extroverted one in your friendship. You don't mind though, her positivity is a breath of fresh air. Pictures of her twins, Jino and Jina fill your messages. You can't help but adore their chubby faces, their petite pregnant mom holds them up for one photo smiling gleefully, you assume her husband took the photo. 'They're getting bigger than me!' The text after announces.

Your appointment for your soul mark removal is soon. You're not nervous if you don't think about it every second. The man- soulmate you bumped into seemed well off, right? His clothing was designer. His glasses, too. He- and his other soulmates will be able to afford the solution cream.. right? Whenever you think about him too much, your heart flitters. You try to focus on the small things in your life. And not the way he stared at you. The way his name echos in your head every so often. The way your soul mark yearns to be connected with his. What it'll feel like to be connected with the others as well, how they feel, what they're like. Your mind betrays your wishes not to have those thoughts.

In the midst of night, you're cursed with dreams, Tangled into sheets, laughing with him. More than one person is there, every so often the bed sinks in and you can fel yourself pressed against another person. Skin meets skin in soft, innocent touches, just wishing to be close to each other. The sun beats through the sheets, creating an angelic like glow. You can never make out the murmurs and whispers. When he steps out of the blanket, you miss his touch. You feel empty without him. And then, you wake up, usually groaning at your mind for creating such a tantalizing dream. One you can't forget the next day.

Mingyu is no stranger to the looks his members give him. "What do you know?" Seungkwan is the first to ask, jutting his head at the older guy sitting in the makeup chair. He pushes on mingyu's shoulder, biting into an apple slice. "No, it's a secret. I promised Woo," gyu mumbles, crossing his arms. Across the room, wonwoo sleeps in his chair while the makeup artists finish. He's catching up on missed – well deserved – sleep.

"We're tied, remember? I have a right to know. We don't keep secrets," Seungkwan pouts, chewing the rest of his apple slice down. Gyu also pouts, a reactive thing he copies. Seungcheols chin falls on top of mingyu's head, eavesdropping the entire time. An urging look is in his eyes, encouraging mingyu to go on. He almost gives in. "No. I can't, it's something you have to ask wonwoo about." He sighs and turns away from his members.

Seungcheol and seungkwan share a look over mingyu's makeup chair.

The drive back to the house is long, and wonwoo attempts to catch some more zzz's on the drive. The city lights bounce off the glass, it's well past 9 o'clock. Wonwoo gets the farthest window seat in the back. Hoshi and seungcheol are sat next to him. Arms thrown over each other to share warmth, cheol' head falls on hosh's shoulder, the absence of his snores is a tall tell sign he's not really asleep. Hoshi is pressed up against the other window. He's on his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his timeline. Joshua, Dino, and Vernon take the middle seats, each one of them passing their phones around. They laugh quietly. Mingyu sits in the passenger, his eyes relaxed but not yet asleep.

Usually, a drive home like this would make wonwoo feel content. His soulmates being close by is enough to satisfy the need to be curled under a pile of them. He's lost in thought when the van comes to a stop at their building. Everyone begins to shuffle out. Wonwoo and mingyu are the last two to leave the van. Mingyu shoots a look at wonwoo when he steps out, watching his other member rub behind his ear, where the fourteenth soul mark is. Both of them - followed by their manager - walk into the building.

Everyone's already relaxed when they all get settled down. Movie night consists of seats being switched around here and there. Some don't even bother watching. Just lingering around on their phones or laptops, content to just listen in. Everybody needs some soul bonding. Lately, their energy is drained faster, even Jihoon can feel it. He sits on a single armchair, his laptop propped on his lap. His hoodie is rolled up his arm, while the rest of him drapes comfortably in the chair.

Jihoon mindlessly rubs his soul mark, the planet behind his ear. It stings every so often, like it would when he's been away from his soulmates for too long. He sees wonwoo most days doing the same rubbing motion on his ear. No matter how he tries to avoid asking wonwoo what's been going on, he can't help but feel he won't get an answer out of him even if he did. Wonwoo can definitely be secretive and stubborn sometimes. Jihoon glances to wonwoo and mingyu, talking quietly in the kitchen just around the corner. Only he can see them stare at each other, a heated discussion beginning to rise.

He tries to listen in, but it's too loud with the movie. The rest of the members are wrapped around each other on the couch, work clothing and blankets string about here and there, and they haven't had much time to clean up recently. Jihoon slips out of the living room quietly, leaving his closed laptop in his spot. Only cheol blinks an eye for a split second, watching jihoon go.

Jihoon quietly walks into the kitchen, which is dim except for the microwave light that pops popcorn every second or so. Wonwoo stands with his head hung low, defeated. Gyu turns to the sounds of shuffling, glancing between jihoon and wonwoo. Jihoon stares back, a questionable look on his face when he glances between the two quiet men.

"We need to talk," wonwoo says, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes only meet halfway with Jihoons.

Your favorite place on earth was your bed, minus the crumbs. You had spent your first paycheck on it, and you don't regret it at all. It's a king size on the floor. You're perfectly content with it. You can lie and say you're always perfectly content. Today is a lie day.

Your face is squished against your sheets, and your phone is propped up on a pillow. Your appointment isn't until 12. You can feel every one of your soul marks pulse every once in a while. A hearty rhythm you've gotten used to, but you're highly opposed to. A pulling urge to get out of bed and wander the streets til you find who you're looking for. You rub your tired eyes. It was a strange night. Series of dreams plaguing your mind when they're still fresh.

You stand on the sidewalk, golden hues paint every corner. Jiung is no longer pregnant, and her kids aren't currently with her. Surely an image of her your dream made up. She talks mindlessly as you walk. Your eyes never stray from her. "You'll know what to do. The timing will be perfect. Everything will fall into place." She repeats every so often. You're in the most expensive outfit you've ever bought, one you used for clubbing when you turned 21, and you never wore again. Every shiney piece of it sparkles like diamonds caught on flash. In the next moment, you lift your head up to photographers and cameras flashing in your face. You go to shield your face, but you're already being pulled away by your shoulder. You blink your eyes, and you're in an airport now. Faceless strangers shove their phones in your face. A hand tugs on your own, pulling you along, another guides your waist. Both help ease the twisted feeling arising. You're crowded between people escorting you. As soon as you begin feeling claustrophobic, you fall into a weightless state. Floating mindlessly before drifting down into a bed. Your bed. Sheets are neatly tucked in, but blankets strew all of the area. As you continue to look, the bed seems to grow. You can hear the distant sound of clattering in your kitchen, yet you can't see anything pass the bed. Quiet talking and whispers, they're purposeful as if they're trying not to wake you.

You're falling back in, head laid on a broad chest. You can hear their heartbeat through their shirt. Strong and steady. Content. Their voice rumbles a melody, humming soft. Behind you is another chest pressed to your back. Their hand is tucked under your neck, soothing strokes to the base of your hair. Warm lips pressed to your forehead. Another pair falls on your soul mark.

When you wake up. You can't determine your own feelings at the reality of it. No one is pressed by your sides stroking your face and head like you wish. No one is pressing soft, delicate kisses to your forehead and neck. No one is humming to you. After you stretch and yawn, you're doing your morning routine. Humming the melody to yourself.

You crack eggs for breakfast. You tune turning more quiet as you focus on what you're doing. By the time you're done cooking it's 10. You don't have the appetite anymore, but you're obligated to eat something before your appointment. You eat what you can and get ready.

You're taking your time now. When you pull your socks on your finger strokes the infinity mark on your ankle, then each of your hands gently touch the shooting star and goldfish on your wrists. When you pull your clothes up past your thighs, you watch the branch get hidden, you watch It meet just over your hips. Fingerprints, the beautiful figure beneath your belly button, and the moon hide away. Then you pull your shirt over your shoulder. You eye the rose, glancing down at the blackhole on your collarbone. You cant see it but you can feel the pulse of the butterfly and the tiger on your back. You reach up to touch the back of your neck. The dragon shifts when you glide your finger over it. All of these intricate marks will be gone. Including your own. Your soulmates will feel the pain of loosing one of their own. You'll never meet them. Never talk to them. Never know the details about them.

What's gotten into you? Since when did you care?

Why do you care?

You're picking up your phone before you know it, you're breathing hard. Why are you breathing so hard? You take a few slow breaths. Your hands grip the phone tightly while you dial Soul Surge.

"I'd like to cancel my appointment."

The news hits the boys like a train. Wonwoo had not just single handedly refused to tell his soulmates about the woman, but mingyu had hid it too. Their other soulmate. "Why didn't you tell us this?" Seungkwan sighs. "Wait." Dokyeom interjected standing from the couch. "So that light was you two?" Dokyeom grabs wonwoos shoulders, shaking him. "I was right there! How does gyu know before I do?" Wonwoos face shows displeasure, many of the boys are about to intervene. Seungcheol pushes dokyeom back gently from wonwoos space. Kyeom can tell cheol is serious when he doesn't bat an eye at his outburst. He takes his seat next to Dino.

"Well," joshua buts in, he tucks a hand under his chin, his arm propped up on the counter. "Maybe she had her reasons to run." he can buy it himself. It's very possible. The room returns to silence. Cheol shifts from his feet, deep in thought. He stops short, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You two did connect, right?" Seungkwan asks before cheol can, and Wonwoo nods. woozi speaks up. "Then that means she and you will find your way to each other"

Letting the universe and soul connect doing its thing takes too long in mingyus opinion. Everyone decided so anyway. Mingyu was oddly the only one to object. At night, he thinks about it. What'd it be like to finally meet her. What kind of personality would she have? What her likes are. Does she like music? Does she know who they are? Is she a carat? His mind fogs at the number of questions. She's been running around his mind ever since wonwoo told him.

He finds himself restlessly trying to convince his members to step up so they can find her quicker. Maybe he's looking for someone to back him up. Mingyu can be personally driven. And maybe this is something he shouldn't be doing. He's out doing his own thing that day. He doesn't have any filming to do. So his hand reaches for his phone, turning his neck to the side and throwing up peace between his fingers. The fourteenth soul mark is on display. His phone audio shutters when he takes the photo.

Only five slides of him. A tight black tee with a low collar, he's perched on a ledge. One in a black tank in the gym, one of him drinking some type of drink. Mingyu. His name is in Hangul, on the side of the flimsy paper cup. His peace photo. Lastly, it is just a picture of the back of his neck. His head is turned. In every photo, the planet is in clear view. The majority of the time, he can't post pictures with the fourteenth soul mark. The company decided against it.

'It'll cause controversy to the public'

This time, he decides to break some company rules. " 🪐 " is the only thing in the caption.

It's the same day jiung drags you into town. "Girls trip!" She laughs so heartily, clinging to your arm at your front door. On her form is a yellow spring dress. And you're in a drop shoulder oversized tee, a pair of loose pants. She takes you to the most popular jewelry store on the strip, waiting in line. "Why are we here?" You ask, she doesn't tell you. "You'll know soon enough!'" She pouts playfully. And maybe she uses her pregnancy to get your spot in the store faster. You don't point it out.

A young lady tightens a metal of your choice to your right ankle, and the accents blend perfectly. Jiung gets a rose gold color on hers, baby blue accents that look perfect against her tan skin, and lastly, a single seashell pendant to match with her own soul mark. "You don't have to get the pendant," she tells you with a smile shuffling on her one foot as they tighten the bracelet to her. She knows you don't particularly take fond of your soul mark.

"No, I'll get the pendant," you smile back to reassure yourself. You watch now as the younger lady fastens the bracelet to your ankle. Zapping it into place. A permanent ankle bracelet is now tied to you. You're not upset at the decision.

"Thanks for coming with me, I didn't think you'd want to get one, though," jiung smiles, her eyes on her own ankle bracelet as she walks in her flip-flops. "Their designs were too pretty to pass up," you say, you both stop in front of another store on the strip. This one has a couple of cut-out boards on the outside. You don't recognize any of them except for j-hope of bts. It's chained down. You stare in surprise.

"People really steal those?" Jiung laughs like what you said is the funniest thing in the world. "I took the d.o one they had out a year ago," she reminisces. You stare in shock, jaw-dropping. "Jiung!" You scold, she pulls you into the store before you have anything else to say. Once you get over the initial shock of the store decorations, you're wandering around. A couple of albums catch your eyes. Your hand scans over the records.

Here and there are a few people. But it isn't crowded. A couple of young girls, no younger than high schoolers, scroll on their phones, taking pictures of the album section, the laugh boisterously. They switch off to take photos of each other with their newly bought albums. You make sure to stay out of their shots. Not far away, you're at the plush section with jiung. She talks to herself about which plush she wants. "Dwaekki or Quokka.." You zone out when the loud girls squeal.

"Oh! Mingyu just posted!" A confused 'huh?' Follows. Okay. Maybe you're curious yourself. You secretly eavesdrop into their quiet conversation, squeezing a plush you got from the shelf, its a wolf with only a shirt on, a content expression on its face. A notification peaks jiungs interest. It's a jingle pop. Her phone is in her right hand while the plush is in her left. She gasps. Your head whips around towards her, glancing over her shoulder at her screen.

There in bold reads; "SEVENTEEN 14TH SOUL MARK REVEALED!" followed by a collage of zoomed in photos of a guy, his hair is short but on the base of his neck is the planet.

Your planet. Your saturn. Glittered with galaxies behind him. When you go to double look, you can feel your neck crick in protest. Jiung calls your name. Shock on her face. She stares at your neck. Gosh. The one day you decide not to wear something that'll cover your neck AND you forgot your jacket. You slap your palm over your neck.

Your name is called again. Jiung has taken the plush from your hand, putting it back on the shelf. "Let's go," She says, so casually glancing behind you. You continue to stare, nothing coming from your throat. You follow her gaze. The two girls' heads shoot back down to one of the phones. "Doesn't it look like hers?" They whisper. Just your luck. "Ji, I-" she grabs your arm and marches to the front of the store, your head is downturned. This can't be real. How could all of this happen? How does-

The girls stop you. "It's you, isn't it!?" Their tone borderlines obsessive fangirls. "No, please move," jiung speaks for you, her arms hold you defensively by your shoulders. You're starting to regain your senses. The girls push your shoulder, acting playful "gosh I didn't know someone so ordinary would be one of their soulmates." The other girl pouts, "She doesn't look good enough for mingyu." her tongue clicks, both of them shove their hands over their arms.

Jiung goes to defend you. "Hey! Why are you two bothering customers?! This is the third time this month!" An older lady yells, she comes over with a book in hand. The girls look shocked, they bow their heads, and Apologize. Sneaking looks at you two that are heated. It's pretty forced. "ajumeoni! We're just talking!" "ajumeoni! Have you restocked the txt albums?" Their voices get high pitched. Shoulders bumping yours and jiung as they pass.

"Let's get you outta here," jiung sighs. She pulls you out the door.

You're in a state of shock.

Jiungs apartment is homely, fit for a family. Boxes pile upon each other. "Sorry it's messy, we're moving soon," she sulks, pushing a box with her foot. She takes a seat on her couch. Patting the spot next to her. You move from the hallway and sit. "Girl talk?" She suggests. "Or we can watch a movie. The twins are with youngwins' mothers. So I have until tomorrow off. " she shifts with her feet under her.

You don't think about it. "Girl talk," you sigh, staring into her dark eyes. When you explain everything. No, really. Everything to her. She takes it upon herself to rub your arm in a soothing gesture. "And.. then I canceled the appointment." You finished. She shifts to get closer to you. "Oh honey" she pats your hand.

"You are such a sad fool," she sighs. You pull your head up, looking at her. "Excuse me?" She stutters. "t-that came out wrong. What I meant was you're not giving it a chance to work out; I mean. I understand not being ready. I do. I don't know what you went through to have done all of that. And there's not a way to change the past. So you'll have to pull yourself out of this mess." She pats your hand again. "I recommend finding a way to talk to your soulmates, talk about it" you nod at her advice.

You exchange a few more sentences, and jiung is right in all cases and scenarios. "Everything will work out"

News spreads quickly in Seoul. You can't go outside much, and when you do, you always feel like someone is about to find out who you are. You usually grab your groceries as fast as you can. Always pulling at your shirt collar.

"Who are these guys again?" You ask on the phone, on your laptop, you're on naver searching up images. Jiungs kids can be heard giggling and fussing in the background. "They're seventeen. They're a 13 member boy group. You've heard of K-pop, right?" You say a simple 'uh-huh' "you know that song. Aju nice? It was pretty popular a few years back." "Nu-uh, nope," she sighs. "I was in America then," you respond casually. "America? Are you American?"

A notification pops up on your open browser. "BIGHIT Entertainment and PLEDIS Entertainment speak up about SEVENTEENS' 14th soul mark." Jiung speaks up for you. "Bighit and pledis are looking for their 14th soulmate," she mumbles through the speaker. "This could be your chance to talk to the company," she speaks your thoughts. You read the site briefly. "I think I'll email them." You nod like she can see it. Throughout the rest of your night, you fill out a detailed email, it takes you hours to come up with the right thing to say.

Everyone has given mingyu a piece of their mind and the silent treatment. But seungcheol? God. He's the quietest of them all. Mingyu is backstage, and many of the members stand around talking and / or getting their makeup retouched. He's not focused on anything particular, though. A frustrated sigh leaves his throat. He excuses himself from the makeup artist and walks over to cheol. Cheol stands tall, talking with jeonghan. His biceps flex against the stage outfit.

"Hyung" mingyu stops just shy of the two members. Jeonghan shoots a look at mingyu. One he knows says he's still upset at him. I mean, the whole reason they're not on strike right now is because this was pre-planned. Immediately, mingyus post was taken down by the company. His account is temporarily taken away. It's been more than a week. And now they're seeing if the public will let it slide under the rug.

Cheol parts from jeonghan who goes the other way. He stands face to face with mingyu. "I'm sorry," mingyu starts. he pauses. "That's it?" Cheol asks, folding his arms. "Mingyu, have you thought about what's going on?" Cheols' frustrated voice makes mingyu drop his head. "Yeah -" "You don't, though, Gyu. our soulmate is out there, and you know what wonwoo said. She ran away from him. It's possible she's not ready to see us. But we dont know unless she comes to us first." cheols voice turns more melancholic at the end.

Mingyus heart hurts, seeing him upset. He wants to reach out and hide away at the same time. "I'm sorry," he repeats himself. "I wasn't thinking," his voice grows quiet, the quietest he's ever been. Cheol can't help it when he reaches out and rubs his thumb on mingyus cheek. "I wanna see her too," he smiles sadly. Mingyu tilts his head into cheols palm. Wrapping his arms around him tightly. Cheol wraps his arm around him back. Ruffling his hair.

A man stands at your doorstep. Cloaked in normal everyday clothes, you would see on any stranger walking the street. "Hello?" He says your full name to your doorbell camera, leaning in too close. "Hello, this is she. Who are you?" You reply from your phone. You're at work at the moment. Your shift ends in less than 20 minutes. "Hello, I'm Song Jaeho with bighit and pledis entertainment. I have a few questions to ask you if that's alright. Do you happen to be home?"

Bighit-pledis ent..? You slap a hand over your mouth. Who told!? It wasn't jiung! Right!? No... she'd never. She respects your boundaries. Oh.. the girls. The two from that store! Oh wait. You sent an email.

Are you even ready for this?

"I.." You look at the time. 15 minutes. Screw it. "I'm not currently home, but I'm just about to get off work. It'll take less than five minutes," the man claps his hands, pulling back from the camera. "Great, I can wait in the lobby then"

"Eunha! I'm off. My parents had a medical emergency and need me to drive them," you clock out, praying no one notices your blatant lie. "Oh yeah, you go on! Tell them I said hello. " she's never met your parents. But is so kind anyway.

By the time you make it to your apartment lobby, you're just under 4 minutes. Mr. Song stands up and greets you. You bow your head back. "Hello," you smile politely. "Song jaeho." He shakes your hand. "I'm assuming you know why I am here," the hybe employee says. Crossing his hands together. "Is this possibly about my.." You point to the back of your ear. "Soul mark? Yes. Actually, it'd be much easier to talk somewhere more privately. Would you mind accompanying me for coffee?" You look around, and he's right. Many people come in and out of the building, and work for a good number of people is over.

The coffee shop is crowded for the afternoon. A good thing in your opinion, maybe you should have thought before following some strange man to a cafe you hardly know. You're lucky he caught you on a half day. You take the only available seats by the exit. The space is fairly far from the next person, so you'll be able to converse openly.

Once you order, jaeho gets down to business. He slides his card between you and folds his arms. "I am specifically the legal advisor for idols who are soulmates with non idols. I work for bighit and their departments. Now, to start off, I would like to first see your soul mark. It's a precaution, so we know you're -" You stop him there. Pushing your hair away and turning your head, you show him your soul mark. He sits up a bit to lean over, eyebrows furrowed. You scrub at it to prove your point. It doesn't flake or move. "It's genuine," you mumble. He sits back. "It seems so," he says skeptically.

"May I?" He points to your wrists. You sigh and lean your wrists out to him. "Go ahead, have at it," he turns and inspects the soul marks on your wrists closely. You watch the top of his thick hair while his glasses hang off the bridge of his flat nose. It's like he's trying to see if you're a real diamond.

"I apologize for the precautions. You can never be too safe." he lays the folder between you. Legal documents laid out perfectly. "What's this?" Song jaeho crosses his hands together, placing them on the table. He points to each sentence as he says them. "I'm assuming you know of the boys' status. They are celebrities, and we, as the company they are signed under, must take the proper precautions to prevent any harm coming to them. It's nothing personal. Strictly business." He smiles. It's not genuine.

"And you want me to sign this?" You stare. "Yes, I will guide you through all of what you'll be signing," he smiles again. Pulling each paper towards him. As he continues to explain. You get the feeling this is just an nda. You read whatever you can on your own, trying to catch any funny business if you can.

"Once I sign these, what will happen?" He pulls away and closes his folder. "Once you sign the paperwork, we'll be in contact shortly. If everything goes well, you should be able to meet all of them. There is no guarantee or specific date set in stone, though." You hum at that. Looking down at the stamped papers in your hands, you flip through each.

All that's stopping you is some paperwork. Yes, it's not as easy as you wish it was. But you can't run away again. And now, probably, is your last chance of meeting them.

"Could I use your pen?"

You're wringing your hands as you sit in a spacious room. It's been atleast two months since you've see song jaeho, you almost thought you had been scammed until he called and scheduled a meet up. You feel foolish when you say that. 'Meet up'. It's like this moment doesn't determine your future. Set in stone. You couldn't even pick what to wear. Should you have gone in your favorite outfit? Something modest? Sophisticated? Sexy? God, you're going crazy.

You place your head down on the arm of the couch. Sighing into it. Your nerves are shocked. You've got to get a hold of yourself. You take a few deep breaths. You smooth out your clothing, making sure it's pristine. You're lifting your head up to scan the room, it's a giant comfortable room, almost like a living room. It seems homely, it must be a place where the boys rest before makeup. You've caught up on the lore of kpop, thanks to jiung, and figured the rest out yourself, possibly through a series of videos.

Truly, you're trying not to run away. But song jaeho already knows where you live, and you need to get meeting them over with. What's your plan? What are you even doing here?

The door opens abruptly. For some reason, you shoot up. Three men step in first. You only recognize Jaeho. You can hear the footsteps echoing down the hallway. It's a wide amount of them.

You feel your heart thump in beat. It rings loudly in your ears. You want to hide. To run from the center of the room. Anything to get every eye off you. Your lips purse. You lick them gently. Suddenly feeling your mouth dry.

The shoes echos as they stop just outside the open door. You can make out some harsh whispering. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Maybe they're just as nervous as you are. The thought makes your lip quirk. "Get in there!" A louder whisper cuts through. Your lip quirks into a smile. What were you getting yourself into?

One by one, models pass through the door. Why are there mod- it's like your heart leaps. You laugh internally. These guys.. these guys are Seventeen.

You can distinguish every one of them. Features you're fond of, already memorized. There's something so familiar about them. You can't put your finger on it.

Your hands squeeze by your side. Glancing from each guy to the four older men in suits. Each of the suited men talk to each other. "Take a seat, please," one of them breaks off from the secretive circle they had formed.

You plop yourself back down onto the couch, almost falling over from the cushioning. You smile to hide your embarrassment. There's only one other couch, and each guy attempts to fit on it. The shortest of them all takes the single armchair, smiling smugly as a much taller one complains about not having room. "I got here first," he says.

Your lips quirk up into a smile, and you bite your laugh down. The taller guy looks to you, a challenged smile on his face. You stare back with a small, a knowing look that definitely says 'yeah i laughed. What're you gonna do about it?'. He takes his place next to you. Plopping his full weight down. You almost fly forward into him. He grins from ear to ear. When you pull away and he scoots to the edge of the couch to give you some space, you find yourself smiling inwardly.

It's no surprise that all of the guys didn't fit on the couch. Two of them noticed this guy taking a seat next to you, yet playfully rush to take the spot on your left. The guy with hamster like features beats the much taller, otter looking one.

He smiles in victory, and you watch the guy pout and walk away. For a split second, your eyes catch each other, you smile, face scrunching. A tiny laugh erupts from you. He grins from ear to ear. He's not so upset he didn't win the spot anymore. He stands behind the adjacent couch with his arms resting on the top of it.

A shoulder bumps yours. It's from the hamster looking guy. He pouts, and you smile, bumping your shoulder back at his. His pout lifts despite him trying not to. His lips curve upwards.

Finally, once everyone is settled down into their spots. Two of the men in suits step forward.

"On behalf of Bighit and Pledis Entertainment, I will be representing seventeen." The other one speaks up. "And I will be representing Ms -" he says your full name.

You sigh, more legal work?

"If this is about more legal signing, I have already signed everything with Mr. Song Jaeho" You gesture to jaeho, who stands off to your left. The men in suits looked puzzled. Jaeho nods. "If that's the case, we can just begin introductions." The fourth guy says, clapping his hands together.

One by one, you learn the names of each guy. You make sure to memorize it perfectly. Some of them are even foreigners, you really wonder how they all met. They seem to have the closest bond, apparently they've known each other for years.

You've got a lot to catch up on.

Soonyoung and Mingyu are the two that sit with you. Soonyoung on your left and Mingyu on your right. The one who took the chair is Jihoon. From left to right, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Joshua, and Vernon take the couch across from you. Sitting on the arms are Seokmin and Wonwoo. leaning against the back of the couch is Seungkwan, Junhui, Minghao, and lastly, Chan. The one who lost the race.

"Tomorrow, we're shooting for a video," seungcheol speaks up over the growing silence. "You could come if you want," he nods. Everyone waits with bated breaths.

"I'd love to," you grin.

[sulky-cabbage]

I was wondering About the reason gege chose to make megumi trapped inside of sukuna, and got some ideas...

don't take this super seriously it's just for fun & sorry if my English sucks.

So we know sukuna has megumi's memories from when he was possessing his body, so he thinks megumi was abandoned by his parents (because that's what megumi thinks), and knows that gojo took him in and is almost a parental figure...

BUT GUYS SUKUNA SAID HE WAS A WRETCHED CHILD!! HE WAS UNLOVED!!

He said this while in Megumi's body btw.

(He killed ate his brother in the womb, and possibly killed his mother too? We need that backstory ASAP)

you could say he was born cursed, he killed those closest to him just by being born.

He could gain respect and devotion, and fear, and all that because of his strength, but not true love.

we know yoruzu loved him, but he didn't reciprocate nor did he take her seriously, because he doesn't see her as an equal, she doesn't get him, he doesn't connect with her.

because those below him don't understand.

He can't find love beacuse he can't find an equal.

he's one of a kind.

(Reminds me of that video of the last kauai bird singing to a female that will never respond because he's the last of his kind, it's actually so sad..)

So he reincarnated as a curse!!

and kashimo called him out on this, why did you come back?? didn't you die?? Are you perhaps looking for something??

And him saying love is worthless right after killing gojo too, like... this was his chance to find love but it didn't work out 😢

If he truly didn't care about it then what is this???

He incarnated in the same era that satoru was born, what are the odds??

He was ruminating yorozu's words in his head every time he sees gojo, he can't help but think of love when he sees him, because he's the strongest person he fought, the closest to actually reach him.

But when even gojo couldn't keep up, he gave up for real, All this talk about not needing love, he's saying this because love is the thing he can't have, so he's like fuck love who needs it? its worthless i have everything I need.

He doesn't want to feel helpless, he's like: who said I even wanted love in the first place?? Baka!! (Tsunkuna is very real)

Doesn't mean he's gonna just forget about gojo though, what he felt during the fight with gojo was incomparable with anything he ever felt.

And I would say he needed to lose gojo to realize this..

Like... what is this...Sukuna???

He hasn't been the same since he killed Gojo I'M TELLING YOU!!

He's starting to question himself after centuries!!

What changed?? Huh Sukuna????

So...back to megumi

When gojo hugged him in the fight, we were wondering if he's hugging megumi or sukuna..

I think the point is that HE'S HUGGING THEM BOTH!!!

(He's also doing it to avoid getting cut off by sukuna, pun intended)

Gojo hugging Sukuna is the equivalent of hugging a cat that keeps scratching you lol.

And when sukuna did the same and bypassed gojo's infinity [which only sukuna managed to do by the way] the result was gojo's death, like?? Sukuna really be killing everything he touches huh... this and his poor baby brother.

We know one of Satoru's main goals is that he doesn't want anyone to feel lonely..

THAT INCLUDES SUKUNA TOO!!!

And he felt like he failed to do that!! He couldn't keep up, once sukuna reached him and bypassed his infinity he immediately died.

I guess the parallelism between sukuna and megumi is being symbolized by megumi looking all depressed and lonely inside of sukuna, they're the same, and satoru tried to save both.

The fact that megumi's name means blessing, and he's inside sukuna the king of curses...

I guess it was implied megumi was a blessing to gojo in that scene when he found him.

And he asked him to become stronger to keep up with him..

And he did!! But as a vessel of sukuna..

Gege what does that mean..

is Love the strongest curse? Or is it a blessing?👀

Gege Are you even doing this on purpose??

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

Pavitr's brother, Chander! The twin he failed to mention (not out of malice, he just forgot)

I don't know why no one has ever thought to give this little guy the Carlos treatment. If you've been in the Encanto fandom and simped on Camilo, you know what I'm talking about.

Just picture the gang meeting Pavitr's family and Chander is just chilling on the couch playing Mario Kart or something and the gang is like...what?!

"Oh, yeah, that's my brother!"

"You never said you had a brother"

"Heh...Forgot?"

And Chander is like, "Wow, I feel SO loved by you" with an emo hair flip to add.

"Who's the oldest twin?"

Before Pavitr answers Chander chimes in with a icy glare, "Do NOT answer that!"

Clearly, we can see who's the oldest.

HC's below

Emo boy here hates the fact that he's the younger twin...and much shorter than his brother. From his perspective, it sucks. It's so weird, they were the same height one day and overnight Pavitr just shot right up!

Chander doesn't understand it, where's his growth spurt?! It doesn't help that Pavi likes to tease him about it.

Smart ass to the fullest degree and a cocky SNARKY bastard. His quips are just as fast as his brothers but probably a LOT meaner. He has no filter and doesn't try to have one either.

He tries to be seen as nonchalant but this lil guy is an eternal flame baby. For some reason he was born with anger so....yeah, anger issues. He stumped his toe this morning? It's everybody's problem now.

Please believe me when I say he's a sweetheart, he just has a very antagonistic face. He'll help his aunty, parents, or brother out no questions asked, feed the street cats (dogs too but he's more of a cat person), tutor some kids here and there, etc.

Don't touch his hair! The only person reserved to do that is his mom and even she has to chase him down to comb that bird's nest he calls hair.

Chand knows his brother is Spiderman and does "not" care all too much. Great, something else Pavitr can one up him in doing. LOVELY!

Has been in multiple school fights...gods this boy gives his parents grey hairs. Turns out he's more inclined to throw a fist at disrespect than his brother is. He comes home with more injuries than Pavi does on a bad day.

Cusses like a sailor when adults aren't around. Pavitr is used to it at this point, so he doesn't bat an eye. Usually.

Chander is cool with Pavitr's friends, Likes Hobies the most though. They match each other's chaotic energy so to speak.

Some of his hobbies include cooking, reading, coin collecting, and playing games, and making weapons (with a 3D printer and they are FAKE! Well...most of em). He wants to be a game developer when he's older because they games out now just aren't doing it for him. Well, besides Mario Kart, COD, Little nightmares, and FNAF. (And secretly animal crossing...shhh, don't tell anyone).

Very stand off-ish if that wasn't clear. He'll make it known if he doesn't feel like being bothered at that moment.

Parkour savy so most of the injuries he comes home with are just scuff marks.

Has his own pocketknife that he secretly made himself. It's engraved with his name on it but much to his dismay, he doesn't use it often.

Even with school fights or fights outside the school with people his age, he refrains using his knife 'cause he doesn't want his parents on his case about it.

Plus, his fists and his gold brace knuckles help him enough.

That's all I got, I want to do more with this knucklehead so pop some asks into my ask box that have something to do with him and I'll answer to the best of my ability.

[pomegranate-pen]

The hunter, the prey, and the fool

Alastor x Detective!gn!reader

summary:

You were never really fond of radios.

In your life, things such as ‘entertainment’ have always been seen as ‘unnecessary noise’ and therefore they were confiscated from your household before you were even born. Had you ever been curious enough to ask about such confiscations, your father would go on a tangent about how the truth must be discovered by oneself rather than believing hearsay. Especially in a time where the truth is always hidden behind the curtain, where every misery of humanity has become a giant spectacle to gawk at and read about in the newspapers. Therefore, in your current years, you found decent entertainment between books alone and never bothered to buy a radio.

Which, in hindsight, has now become a big issue for you, hasn’t it?

The culprit of your new case, the infamous radio show host Alastor looks at you with incredible amusement and a tinge of disdain. there's a prickling feeling within you. something that tells you meeting him was no coincidence nor ordinary matter.

you only hope meeting him won't cause you any trouble.

spoiler: it will.

Ao3 version is here!

Note: they're humans in the first few chapters!

chapter 1.The disciples

Blue and pink engulf the walls and tiles, shining brightly in their clean ceramic might. The wooden chairs and stools full of spots and smudges of coffee stain revel in their small islands of memories, letting the deep brown and rouge colors sink in and become one with its old light brown one. The pastries left were very few, an issue the disciple of the baker usually tends to around this time, where the sun is barely out of its luxurious bed of stars and the birds haven’t begun their daily songs. Yet, the disciple was too busy screaming her lungs out, for she had seen a corpse.

The blood oozes out, creating a pool around the once squeaky clean ground,the owner of the bakery, her father, lays motionless with eyes widened, mouth agape as two deep holes of red take away one’s attention, on right at the temple of his mind and the other at his shoulder. For that morning, the once peaceful and sweet hum of songs that Sasha Peterson would do by the day while the smell of sweet pastries engulfed the street was long forgotten, replaced with screams of heartbreak and dread, banging of the walls and doors as the neighbours wake up and witness the dreadful morning at Greenfield street.

“So that's all she could recall?” The morning sun was barely apparent, the cold sizzles of an autumn-near-winter season leaving you with a grey morning and a dark situation to coincide with it. tapes of yellow engulf the bakery in front of you, your eyes set on the weeping brunette shaking from horror and cold. Hadn’t you been the professional that needed to act indifferent and quiet in the case, you’d be comforting her right about now. Her shaken up form tugs at your heartstrings, but you of all people should know that even the most genuine of acts could be played with a mask.

“well…that’s all we could comprehend through all her cryin’.”  Mr.Lington said. He coughs a few before clutching his shoulders, being far more affected by the cold than you were a the moment, giving the fact that he was in nothing but his cop uniform unfit for cold weather, all while you relished the warmth in your long brown coat- stereotypically fitting for a detective such as yourself. “ would  die for a warm coffee right now.” Lington grumbled.

You gave him an amused smirk. “must suck to wear such a horrid uniform, eh? Maybe you could use that little flimsy badge of yours as fuel for a fire.”

Lington glared at you in jealousy and annoyance. “At least I have a steady paycheck.” He replied back. You and Lington have always had been a…’frenemies’ of sorts, though the ‘friendship’ in it is more done to follow the code of manners and professionality rather than true companionship. Unfortunately for both of you, your jobs mandate you two having more than just one or two interactions within a month. Had your minds been more alike, perhaps you’d gain admiration and respect for each other, but alas, Lington, in your opinion, had always been a prude and a close-minded individual. Often seeking to just quickly close a case rather than seeking out the truth. But, to be fair, he’s also the most bearable of his fellow comrades. Whom were all crude and often much too prideful for your taste to tolerate.

“Say, L/n…if you don’t mind me asking—“ he turns back to you, perhaps tired of seeing Ms.Peterson shake like a leaf as she’s handed a mug of warm tea to soothe her worries. “Why on earth are you here? we just started the case, and I didn’t hear anyone talk about calling you up for this.” his eyes become analytical- judgemental. He tries to search within your act to see if you’ll crack, to see if you’re here for a deeper agenda.

“I was just passing by.” You shrugged. “You could say curiosity has taken a toll on me. when I heard that such a peaceful street has now become bloody, I couldn’t help but check things out for myself.”

Lington’s brows furrowed. You ignored it, eyes glued more to the crime scene before you.

“and in any case, it’s within my responsibilities as a detective—“

“— Private investigator .” Lington felt the need to correct. You could only give him a squinted stare before putting on a bittersweetly annoyed smirk. With a ‘tch’, you continued.

“like I said. As a detective—” You didn’t miss the sneer he gave you, only making you more prideful than before. “ It's within my responsibility to solve any case I see, and today while I decided to take a nice stroll around the town, I witnessed this.” you point to the Bakery before putting your hands into your coat’s pockets. “And if you’ll excuse me, Officer Lington, I have a job to do. whether you like it or not.”

You intend to walk up to the shivering witness a few feet away, however, a cop suddenly blocks your path, giving you a dirty glare then looking back at Lington like a loyal knight. You couldn’t help but huff in annoyance, turning your head back to Lington and giving him a knowing look.

Lington tries to hold back his happy grin through huffs from the cold, but it fails and only makes you feel more irked than before. “Well you came a bit late, Detective .” He then points to his left. “five minutes late, to be exact. “

You look at where he’s pointing, only to be met with a hoard of people circling around an officer and an unknown man. The first thing you notice about the pair is the annoyed smile the culprit gives, as if he’s more frustrated by the itchy handcuffs and grimy hands on him rather than pleading for his innocence.

The officer says a few common phrases to him, urging him to get in the car so they’d leave as soon as possible. Yet, the man wouldn’t budge, unusually strong and avoiding the car seat as much as he could.  A few more officers flea into the scene to help settle him in, but he tries to kick them back with his feet, all while his voice threatens them with the calmest possible tone.

“Now now, dear officers, wouldn’t want to be known for hurting a very well known radio host while falsely accusing him of murder, now would you?” he grins, though his eyes squint in pure annoyance. “ you’re almost tempting me to broadcast the very rotting pits of your actions for all the people in this fine town!”

Intriguing. Awfully intriguing. You look back at Lington more confused than defeated. “you think this is your guy?” you look back at the apparent radio host again, who has successfully kicked one of the officers in the gut while chuckling.

“he was last seen with the victim.”

“and his motive?”

“unknown for now.”

You perked up by that. “do you at least have any solid evidence other than him being the last guy to see him?”

Lington stays silent for a moment, looking back at the scene and undoubtedly trying to ignore you.

“oh my fucking god, Lington.” You pinch the bridge of your nose before rubbing your temples to avoid an oncoming headache. “ Not this shit again .”

“We'll prove everything at court. “ he sighed. “ If he's not the murderer then he’s got nothing to worry about, neither do you.”

“oh yes, and let’s see him leave the court, go back to his radio show and start ruining the already damaged reputation of the incompetent police department! How great!” your voice of sweet malice makes Lington grip his toolbelt. “what a great idea, Captain! Can’t wait to see people shitting on you for this one! Oh I wonder which unsolved case they’ll attack you for next time. Maybe the continuous chain of murders that’s still being committed by the ever-so-mysterious serial killer? Remember how you once accused the son of one of the victims to be the murderer? Remember that buddy? Oh oh! maybe they’ll ask you if you’re linked to the hya-”

“— then what do you suggest we do ?” the question you’ve been meaning to urge out of him is finally released. Your acts of light teasing (bullying) the captain finally bearing its fruit.  He looks utterly enraged, his mind filled with his own insecurities, because you and him both know he’s not fit for his job. And quite frankly, he’s been a miserable failure these days, and has been born in an era where crime is the highest it could ever be.

“Give me three days to solve this.”  Lington frowned at that, fiddling a bit with the car keys on his belt. “I’ll give you two days.”  He huffed.

You stare blankly at him for a moment, then give a small smile and shrug. “fine by me, I’ve always liked a challenge.” Lies. Had it not been a crime, you’d prance at Lington and beat the shit out of him right now for his stone-headed stubbornness. Alas, you must stay in your act. “oh and— free the culprit, will you?” you take a glance at the car with an unscathed, yet amused host sitting at the car with a certain confident pose. The officer who was his designated driver took a breather right beside the car, all with an ice pack on his newly formed black eye.

“Are you serious ? What if he is the murderer? You’re just going to set this loose canon free ?”

“No, of course not.” You think for a moment, looking back at the bakery that remains quiet, with a few officers mucking around looking for further clues. “ There's a kitchen behind the place, right?” Lington hesitantly nods.  “then just set him up there and keep an eye on him until I come in and begin the questioning. Ok?”

Lington keeps his mouth shut, holding back a handful of comments you know aren’t pretty in the slightest.you look back at the witness who was a bit more calmed now, your head forming up a strategy plan as you turn around to begin your walk- yet before you do, another comment leaves your mouth.

“oh and by the way, “ you suddenly take a badge out of your pocket. “stay alert captain, will you?”

Befuddled and shocked, Lington first second guesses the entire situation, his hand instinctively  going up to his chest as he realizes that the badge in your hand, is in fact, his. He snatches the badge from the currently utterly amused you.

“I really hate you L/n. you know that, right?”

“The feeling’s mutual, Captain!”

----

 “Ms.Peterson?”

The brunette, Sasha Peterson looks up at you with confusion, grief over the situation still plaguing her mind it seems. After all, her boss was no ordinary stranger.

“Let me start by saying I’m sorry for your loss.” You sit down next to her, hoping to not stress her out more by standing atop her idly like a looming shadow. “..you must feel very out of place at the moment.”

“ out of place ?” she scoffs, taking a deep breath as she continues to stare at the concrete. “ that phrase is used for when a gal goes to a club for the first time. When they feel embarrassment, when they’re utterly naïve to the world around them. “ The cold wind blows through the streets, making both your coat and her hair dance with the breeze for a moment, and making her clench her blanket with a tighter grip. “ I may be young, but I’m not naïve. And I assure you, detective, that I am in no way embarrassed right now. oh no, I wish I was just feelin’ embarrassed.`` She gulps. “what I feel right now? what I saw this mornin’? it was nauseating. Utterly sickening. It’s- I just- I can’t believe it.”

“hey, it’s ok Miss Peterson, please, take your time.” You pat her back in support, while your other hand searches within your deep pockets for a spare handkerchief. she takes it quickly, though she doesn’t use it right away. She first looks at the clenched handkerchief in grief, holding back a shaky breath and her shoulders shaking from sadness.Yet, it’s to no avail. Drops of water still slid down her eyes and  she tried to catch a few tears that were making a waterfall on her rosy cheeks. “ my father was no innocent soul, I know this. He's always been a bit of a brute and a grump. But when I looked into his eyes? When I saw how the light faded, how his brows weren’t all furrowed like it usually was? I- I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t comprehend it. All that was going through my mind was just one question. was this all worth it ?”

“What do you mean?”

She hesitates for a moment, fiddling a bit more with the handkerchief before clearing her throat and taking a deep breath.

“he wasn’t just a baker his entire life.” she says. `` he had enemies. More than I could count or know in a lifetime.”

“What exactly was his job before the bakery?”

She goes quiet for a moment, her lips sealed tight. Her eyes dart around for a moment until she finally looks down again, her face emotionless. “I don’t really know. I just know that it was bad.”

One thing you noticed this entire conversation was how she never met your eyes, and how now her tone shifted as well. she first sounded heartfelt, full of spiraling emotion. Yet now she’s as calm as ever, as if she has finally collected her thoughts, or maybe, a realization has struck her.

You hum, letting the silence take over the conversation as you look at the glass panel behind you, observing the crime scene through it.

“it’s fine, miss. You’ve already done enough. '' you get up and give her a reassuring smile. “ I won’t pull on your leg for too long. after all, it’d be cruel of me to force a grieving person to give a full-detailed autopsy now, wouldn’t it?”

She doesn’t say anything back, only looking at you with a pleading expression of sorts, hoping that the case doesn’t end up as an unsolved disaster.

“don’t worry, miss Peterson. I won’t let this case remain a dud. “ you smiled. “After all, it’s my job to unveil the truth. no matter the cost .”

Somehow, her frown has seemed to deepen from that.

----

You were never really fond of radios.

In your life, things such as ‘entertainment’ have always been seen as ‘unnecessary noise’ and therefore they were confiscated from your household before you were even born. Had you ever been curious enough to ask about such confiscations, your father would go on a tangent about how the truth must be discovered by oneself rather than believing hearsay. Especially in a time where the truth is always hidden behind the curtain, where every misery of humanity has become a giant spectacle to gawk at and read about in the newspapers. Therefore, in your current years, you found decent entertainment between books alone and never bothered to buy a radio.

Which, in hindsight, has now become a big issue for you, hasn’t it?

The culprit of your new case, the infamous radio show host Alastor looks at you with incredible amusement and a tinge of disdain. He gives a few glances to the cops circling around him, one youngling newbie holding a notebook with shaky hands while the other with a black eye giving him an ugly stare. He grins at the elder, tilting his head in mock and then looking back at you once more.

“You sure you want to be alone with him?” Lington, who was beside you asked. “there’s a certain look in his eyes that I don’t quite like.”

Curiosity gets the best of you, and you stare deeply into the man’s eyes. Swirls of brown that reek of confidence, of finding joy in this entire fiasco that has been laid upon this sweet bakery. His eyebrows furrow. The only indication you have that he feels at least the slightest bit of negative emotions at the moment. Yet you can’t quite place the very emotion he’s feeling. Was it annoyance? Fear? Perhaps embarrassment from the way you’re just unblinkingly gawking at him?

You switch your stare to Lington. Giving Alastor a time to breathe. “ I get what you mean. but he won’t be honest with me if he thinks I’m working with you guys.” You then rolled your eyes. “ not that I ever wanted to be associated with you in the first place.”

Lington scoffed, tilting his cap down and motioning for the two officers to follow him out.  “well, the floor is all yours, lil’ Sherlock.' ' he glanced behind him, seeing your sitting form beside Alastor’s, who was looking back at him with a cheshire grin.  “tell you what? If he’s innocent then the next coffee’s on me!” he and his colleagues holler in laughter, leaving you groaning in annoyance and clicking your tongue as the door closes.

Silence takes over the room for a moment. You clear your throat and take out your hand.

“the name’s L/n. I’m a detective.”

By the moment you’ve mentioned your name- something in Alastor’s expression shifted. A flurry of emotions that left as soon as they came, leaving you with no real idea of he truly felt at the moment. He tilts his head back a bit, his then small small now becoming a grin, one which you couldn’t decipher what it meant. Warry or shock, it didn’t matter, for Alastor already put up his mask and is not one to show true emotions so easily, you’ve noticed. You could relate to that, in many ways than one.

“oh well isn’t this quite the shocking surprise!'' His voice was somewhat charming. Full of charisma and confidence, announcing things like it’s a show of sorts, like he’s a host of a competition, or to be exact, like he’s a true radio host. “ had it been in any other circumstance other than…well…” his eyes trail to the dimly lit kitchen around him, the sweet aroma making his nose scrunch up a bit in disdain. “ this. I would’ve counted myself quite the lucky man to be running into you!” he balled his hands together and put them on the table, his head leaning down a bit closer to yours. “ you are quite infamous around the city, you do know that, yes?”

Holy shit - you are ? Frankly, you didn’t know that. You try to hide your shock. Shrugging carelessly and looking at your coat’s cuffs as you speak. “oh well, I’m just doing my job.” You put your hands together, placing your chin on top of them. All perfect for your new act. “fame doesn’t really matter to me.”

Alastor’s grin becomes a bit too sinister for your liking. “well of course it doesn’t!” he says with a punch of enthusiasm. His movements suddenly mimicking yours and placing his chin on top of his hands as well, all with a bit more bounce to it as yours, making his glasses tilt a bit with his movements. Yet, he gracefully saves the clumsy glasses’ bounce by leaning his head down a bit, all covering the incident as mere intent. or perhaps it was intentional and you are the one assuming it was an accident?

You couldn’t help but feel your shoulders tense up a bit. not even a minute in and he’s a;ready full of secrets, of locks barricading his every movement and leaving you barely any key to open at least one of them. He’s good . Far too good in this charmful act.

“why, I’m certain you’re quite distasteful towards it all.” he continues. “ after all, you’ve seen the very dark pits of it all. the bitter truth behind those glimmering pearls and shining lights where only rotten desires and pitiful beings lay waste. Controlled by their insecurities.”

“..aren’t you a celebrity too, Mr.Alastor?”

Alastor laughs. “oh heavens no! Most people don’t even recognize me unless I speak to them! Even then, it takes quite some time for them to rattle their mind for a link between my radio show and face.”

“but you’re an entertainer as well, are you not?” your brows furrow. “ You keep people’s attention all on you, their eyes as sharp as ever as they listen to your every word. you hide your true intent behind a radio, leading people to trust in your voice and never letting them see your true face, your true emotions towards a certain subject. “

Alastor slowly sits up straight, his head tilting as he chuckles at your statement. “I’m afraid I’ll have to disagree with you, dear detective.” His attitude shifts, from a carefree confident host to one of more malicious intent, a certain intimidation in his voice and movements that leads you to have more suspicious than before. “for you see, I don’t need to hide my face to make people trust me.” the bravery, the very  audacity to say such a thing in an interrogation room leaves your hair’s on end, yet you do not falter. Just as he is keeping up his act, so do you. you do not shake, do not let out a gasp or break a single second out of your mask. You will not let cracks appear, for you see in his eyes that he’s a hunter at heart, and as soon as he sees an inkling of an opening he will pounce and tear off your skin with his teeth.

“Well then, Mr.Alastor. I’m going to be honest with you- and I hope that  by doing that, you’ll cut the act for a moment and cooperate for at least this interrogation session. You see- I don’t think you’re the murderer.”

Alastor’s eyes widened a bit in intrigue. “And what makes you say that, might I ask?”

You lean back in your chair, your pointer finger tapping the table in thought. “I checked the crime scene before visiting you here. There were a few things that kept muddling my mind. First- is the way Mr.Peterson died. Two gun wounds, one in the head and the other in the chest. Yet, the neighbours said that they only heard two sounds at night. One was an hour before you have been seen leaving, where an elderly staying up for the night reading heard the sound of a car honk and assumed it was Miss Sasha’s boyfriend trying to sneak in to visit her again. the second sound was of Sasha’s scream, right around six a.m. you can guess where I’m going with this.”

“ Why, it is strange how they haven’t heard a gunshot, especially one fired twice.” he hummed.

“yes, and furthermore- The Second reason on why I don’t believe you’re the killer is the footprints I found at the exit door in this very kitchen.” You point to your right, between all the counters and ovens there lies a backdoor entrance. “ the footprints were not only covered in dirt, but from the form, it was obvious that it wasn’t yours..or at least- that’s what my guess is unless- '' you suddenly lean down. After a few moments, you come back up again. “nope,I was right. they weren’t your shoes. The size of that one was much larger. So the idea of you changing your wardrobe during the murder is out of the picture for now.”

Alastor stays quiet for a second. “…you could’ve just asked for my shoe size rather than suddenly trudging down the table, Detective.”

“eh, I’m not really a math guy.” You merely shrugged. “though I know my two points aren’t that strong, merely weak strings of questions that haven’t been answered yet, I just have this gut feeling- something that tells me that although you are an incredibly suspicious man,” his eyes squint at that. “..for this case, at least, you are not the murderer. So, Mr.Alastor,” you clasp your hands together once more and look at him with an inquisitive stare. “is my gut feeling correct?”

He stays quiet for a moment, a smile kept tucked on his face and at this point, you’re certain that smile is glued to him no matter what he does. His shoulder hunch up a bit as he straightens his seat, trying to make himself look taller, filled with confidence. “ I must say, dear detective, you are a strange one.” So he thinks you’re a weirdo now. How great. Well, he certainly won’t be the first in your life that thinks that, nor will he be the last. “but it’s always the strange ones that bring in the most entertaining of shows! Even when it comes to mundane tragedies such as this one.”

Mundane would be the last word you’d use for this, but nevertheless, you stayed qyiet at let him continue.  “so I’ll be the one to quell your feeble worries, detective! you’re correct, I’m not the murderer.” This, makes you sigh in relief. “but, I think I have an idea on who it could’ve been.”

You looked at him confused, suspicious of his sinister energy as he spoke. Before you could utter another word, a sudden screech of wheels from outside catches your attention. You both got up from your seats, though you were more quick and hasty while he walked calmly with his hands behind his back. As you finally reached the entrance of the bakery, you could see a horde of cops round a blonde, scruffy-looking man, who had his hands up in surender, and his face beaten up.

“It’s me! I’m the murderer!” he screamed as he waved his hand up, awaiting his arrest.

“Allan?!” Sasha gasped, trying to find her way out of the hoard of cops to reach him. “Allan, what are you doing—“

“It's the truth, Sasha!” he gulps. Eyes darting between the cops that were just as confused. “ I-I’m the killer! Arrest me right now!”

Seriously, what the fuck is going on? the more you think of this case, the more you’re certain there are clues hiding in plain sight. A chuckle from the man beside you catches your attention, as he looks at the scene before him in pure delight.

“this has become far more entertaining than I could’ve anticipated.” He then glances back at you. “It seems like I was right, detective. you’ve truly made this an interesting story, one perfect for my radio show.”

You merely huffed, getting more baffled by the man beside you the more time passes. You decide to ignore his quip for now, for it’s obvious that this case doesn’t really involve him anymore, and he’s just a mere spectator in this silly mess. Your gaze catches Lington, whom after ordering around a few cops to arrest Allan suddenly comes up to you with an exhausted sigh.

“Well,” he huffed, shocked by the turn of events just like everyone else. “…I guess I owe you a coffee now, yeah?”

------

“This coffee is dogshit.”

In the quiet, garden-themed café, where only a tune of a jazzy broadcast can be heard from the radios, you smirk at Lington’s comment about the mug of coffee in his hand.

“at least it’s better than yours.” You quipped.

Lington gives you a blank stare before sipping a bit more of his coffee and grimacing from the taste. You hummed in the silence, taking a good gulp of your own coffee and relishing the caffeine that courses through you.

“still addicted to coffee, I see.”

“I don’t think  that Allan  kid is guilty.” You ignore his previous sentence. Lington’s frown seems to deepen from that. “ Nor do I think that Mr.Alastor is guilty.”

He gives you a baffled look. “What are you going on about?”

 “three shots.” You said. “when I interviewed him today, he said that he shot Mr.Peterson three times. And when I asked him where specifically he was shot, he went all fidgety and then said he doesn’t quit remember, and that his aim was careless and quick.”

“don’t you think he might be just misremembering things?” Lington tapped his finger at the table in thought. “ afterall, it’s never a pretty sight, you know. watching someone die.”

“it’s exactly because how traumatic this situation was that I’m baffled he doesn’t remember it.” you countered. “ fresh traumatic events never really leave the mind, and it takes  a very long while for someone to misremember this much from the crime. If it was just one little misremembering of  a certain detail, like the time or words that have been said, I would’ve shrugged it off- but it isn’t that, Lington. The things he’s presumably forgetting are important details, information that can get us closer to completing the puzzle.”

“In other words, you think he’s bluffing.”

“precisely.”

“then if it’s not him then, who is it? Miss Sasha?”

You stay quiet for a bit before shaking your head. “it could be. But I don’t think she’ll be too fond of being accused of murdering her own father.” You swing your coffee mug a bit, letting the liquid within it swirl. “there’s also the case of—“

Lington lets out a shriek as hot coffee straight from the pot the waiter walking beside your table was holding spills all over him. the waiter apologizes profusely, all while his left hand shakes and becomes wobbly as he sets the pot down on your table.

“I’m so sorry sir—“ the boy apologizes once again, his messy hair and bags under his eyes underlying his exhaustion. He grabs a few napkins and gives it to Lington, who was still cursing a bit from the heat.

“fuckin’ christ- kid is your oven powered by the sun? this shit is so hot—“

As the two start to stumble while trying to fix the mess that’s been made, you took the time to analyze the waiter. His hands still seemed a bit shaky, though it has calmed down a bit by now. his name tag sparkled between the lights, the name ‘JAKE’ catching your attention almost immediately. His clothes were a complete mess, as if he wore them all in a hurry while opening up the café for customers. He looked to be around Sasha and Allan’s age- a youngling in his 20s.

“Jake! Stop annoying the customers!” a scratchy, grouchy and all in all old voice shouted from the other side of the room. The waiter soon shoves a few more napkins in Lington’s hands as he scurries away, all while promising to give a discount for the coffees you two have been drinking.

Lington huffs in grimace as he looks at the new state of his uniform, stained with coffee that will never wash off easily with just mere napkins. He then quickly looks up at you, his conflicted look switching to hopeful.

“do you still have my old coat with you?—“

“Absolutely not. I burned it a long time ago.”

Lington grumbles. Drinking the last bits of his coffee with his eyes glancing to everywhere but you.

-----------

“sir- we have a problem.”

Not even five minutes away from work and it seems like Lingtons troupe has already become an absolute mess. While others are just doing their jobs and warning the public to not interfere with the crime scene, a few are just standing there, behind the radio host giving him the nastiest stares. Yet Alastor’s back stays unturned and his expression remains unbothered. One could even say delighted .

“Mr.Alastor won’t leave…”

“So now that he’s scott free he’d rather stay ? “ Lington was baffled. “What's wrong with this guy?”

The colleague held back a scowl. “probably everything.”

You watch as Alastor’s eyes quickly land on you, giving you a slight bow of greetings while he ignores the threats and questions being thrown at him. The very act of acknowledging your presence and not theirs leaves the cops grumbling and giving up, leaving to approach their baffled captain who was unsure what to do now. With this in mind, you walk up to the radio host.

“It's a pleasure to see you again, Detective.”

“I've only been gone for half an hour.”

Alastor hums. “Has it really been only thirty minutes?” he glances at the cops, his smile becoming forced and hiding his irritation and urge to scowl. “ These people made it feel like an eternity .”

“well, I can’t argue with that.” You chuckled. “I’ve had my fair share of boredom from them, so I can get where you’re coming from- speaking of which- “ you raised a brow.``why are you still here?”

“Would you like to guess?” he mused, a smile turning into a grin.

You think for a bit, recalling the last conversation you had with Alastor. “…for entertainment?”

“ bingo!” He cheered far too enthusiastically at the crime scene. “ you’re correct detective. I’m here to be entertained. After all, I am a host of  a popular radio show!” a radio show that you don’t know a lick about, nor have you heard anything about it. though, that could be just a problem, after all, you’re not much of a social person. It’s hard to trust people when your job revolves around doubting everyone. “I seek and thirst for entertainment! So of course I’d scour everywhere across town to find and feast on it! the more I find, the more I absorb and relish, the more I can attract eyes and ears to my show!” you won’t lie, his energy is contagious. A bit jarring? Perhaps. But nonetheless his hyped up energy leaves you with  a pump of motivation as well.

“And in any case,” he side-eyed the policemen. “since these people's untardiness has made me become tomorrow’s newspaper headline, I’ll have to take this to my advantage and salvage my reputation. I’m a respectable man of the community, so I can’t  let a paper and misunderstanding ruin my image, don’t you agree, detective?”

“I can see why you’re worried.” You nodded, hands going back to your pockets out of habit.  “Well then, I guess you’re going to stay here till the case is closed, yes?”

He hummed. “That is if the case will end today. “

“oh, don't worry, it will.”

Alastor’s eyes spark with interest. “oh? and why is that, detective?”

“because I already know who the murderer is.” Alastor’s head tilted in intrigue. “ I just need a bit more evidence to prove my claim.”

“is that so?...” Alastor straightened his coat. “then would you have the mercy to tell the ever-so-curious radio show host all about it? I’ll assure you that I’m no snitch.”

You put a finger under your chin and tap your foot, acting like you were truly considering such an offer. “..well..you did say you’re here to be entertained, yes?” you smirked. “then I guess I’ll have no choice but to keep you at the edge of your seat, Dear host. ”

Alastor’s smile, impressively so, widens at that. His eyes spark with delight, amused to find a bit of showmanship between your serious detective façade.

“Well then! I guess you won’t mind me tagging along on this case, yes?”

“I will. Though, only on one condition.”

Alastor nods away. “yes yes- I’ll make sure to put you in a glamorous spotlight as the hero detective-“

“no. no. I don’t need that.” You quickly cut him off.

Alastor looks at you baffled. Somehow confused about your decline at such a tempting offer, a worry that most people like you would have, a fear that captain Lington most definitely has.

“you speak the truth in your show. No glamour, no exaggeration, no lies.”

You expected a sneer, maybe even a scowl and a decline of your condition. For what Alastor said in the confession room was true, you have seen the ugly side of fame, you’ve seen the truth around your cases get tangled in lies and assumptions, you've seen careers of the rotten get bigger while the weak and innocent are left penniless. You’ve had multiple feuds, multiple heartbreaks and too many lawsuits about the entertainment of crime, the entertainment of death. You’d hate to see the culprits in this case in particular fall into any disgrace, especially considering how most of them are normal civilians trying to make ends meet. Yet, Alastor gave a smile- a somewhat genuine and charmed one. Charmed by your answer, it seemed.

“dear,” he said with a breathy chuckle. “ Have you ever listened to my show?”

“no.not really.” You don’t even own a radio to begin with.

“well then, you’ll be assured to know that my show is famous precisely for speaking the truth. Being ‘unfiltered’ as some may say.”

“oh, well then,” you give a goofy smile of your own. “this may be a perfect partnership.”

Alastor nods before adding, “why I believe this is a fated encounter, wouldn’t you agree?.”

“yes.” You couldn’t help but feel comforted by that idea. Fate. “ a fated one indeed.”

----

*Ring!*

The little chimes of the doorbell catches the woman’s attention, turning off the bud of her cigar by pressing it down on the counter and telling her dear gossip friend Emillie that she’ll call later. She sees the two ever-so cartoonishly well-dressed individuals be distracted by the racks of clothing, so she takes this as an opportunity to chew up some gum to annihilate the tobacco smell.

“Welcome to Claudine’s Boutique, where the clothes are neat and the rent ain’t cheap.” Her elbows lean down on her counter, a strand of her curly black hair moving out of the tucked place behind her ear and falling into her face. “what can I getcha’?”

“it’s a pleasure to meet you madame.” You smiled, reaching out for a handshake. “the name’s Detective L/n. “

“oh?” her tone is a bit surprised, as she accepts your handshake and gives you a good-old up and down look. “ never knew Detectives were the fashionista types.”

“Oh no, I’m not here for a wardrobe change.”

Claudine stays quiet for a moment. She looks at your clothes once again then back up to you.  “you sure?”

To that, you give a slightly-offended and more-so embarrassed huff, all the while your new partner in the case, ever the gentleman Alastor seems to lose his façade for a moment and holds back a chuckle from her comment.

“yes. I’m certain .” You clarified. “ I wanted to ask you about Mr.Peterson’s murder that happened last night..you have heard about it, I’m sure.”

“how could I not?” she scoffed. “it’s all everyone’s been talking about today. You can’t even call one friend without hearing the news.” She tucks her lost strand of her away once more. “ this neighbourhood ain't never been a quiet one. And I reckon it never will be. People round’ these parts only care for three things. Money, reputation and drama.” She sighed, before gnawing a bit with the gum in her mouth and continuing once more.

“I’ve grown up around these parts. Never really left the place. Guess it’s all because of that darn curse everyone firmly believes in.”

“curse?”

She looks back at you surprised. “haven't you heard?” her eyes then spark in slight realisation. “hm, well it is your first day on the case. Guess I’m your first bystander for questioning?”

You nod. Claudine hums in thought, hesitating on saying a word until she finally bites the bullet.

“People who start livin’ here all get struck by tragedy in one way or another. Death around here is like a plague with no cure. They say it’s a way to make you stay here forever, to make you cling to the remaining memories of your loved ones.”

“Have you lost someone dear as well, Madame?” Alastor chimed.

Claudine’s mind seemed to be stuck in memory-lane. “my sister.” Was her only answer.soon enough she sighed and continued before even one of you could give your condolences. “ Mr.Peterson was one of the people affected by this curse. And now? his daughter will pass on the curse it seems…poor Mr.Peterson. he may have been…well..not the best neighbour round’ these parts but..he had his soft moments. I can’t help but feel pity for the guy, y’know? He wasn’t always like this.”

“Is his bitter behaviour related to the ‘curse’?”

“Well aren’t you smart?” she deadpanned. “ his wife left him for another man, then died a few years later. Never been the same since.” 

“I see…” you quickly take out a notebook and pencil from your pockets, quickly writing this down while your foot taps the floor. “well, is there anything else we should know?”

“depends.” Claudine smirked. “you gonna buy anything?”

Alastor chuckled. “I like her.”

“if that’s the case then why don’t you buy something then?” you offered.

“oh- heavens no! I already have far too much clothing in my closet that has seen the light of day yet.”

“and I’m not looking forward to dressin’ up him.” Claudine chimed. “mister charmer over here doesn’t need any help with fashion, that’s for sure.” Alastor grinned at hat, confidentiality fixing his bow tie while looking at you all smug. “oh no, I want to dress up you , detective.”

You froze for a moment, the tapping of your foot no longer coherent.

“I- I uh…no thank you?” you failed at giving a proper response. “I’m quite fine with how I look now.”

“you mean scratched up and baggy?” Claudine mused.

“wrinkled and worn out?” Alastor added.

“divorced and in their thirties?”

“common bar customer?”

“chased by a b-“

“OK OK. I get it. I look disheveled.” You grumbled.

“When was the last time you even bought new clothes?” Claudine asked.

You fell silent for a moment, the answer bringing up bittersweet memories in your head. “..uh..a pretty long time ago..I guess…” you went quiet, taking the time to pass away all the memories in your head inside a chest that will not see the light of day for a few more years. “alright fine, I guess I do need new clothes…but the coat stays on!”

Claudine hummed, looking at your form up and down again, yet this time her gaze of boredom was replaced with one of passion. “I can work with that.”

----

Cufflinks of white lace, long sleeves of a light brown all neatly tied with a black bow that replaced your previously messy tie, the wardrobe Claudine picked out made you feel like a child of victorian times who's been meaning to go on a picnic. Your once practical and almost a  decade old shoes (‘they’re sturdy and usable!’ you argued) are now replaced with shiny new black ones, ones that gave you the urge to tap dance and sing in the rain with. Your once comfy pants that were a size too big for comfort’s sake were now replaced with a normal black pants,and as promised, the coat stayed on, though not before Claudine tried to clean it up  a bit with items at hand. (“why don’t you give it to a dry cleaner?” she had asked once while trying to tear off a dirt stain at the ends of the coat . “ never had the time for it.” you shrugged.)

“well?” from his tone, you could sense that Alastor was pleased with the new look. “a penny for your thoughts detective?”

You hummed a bit, toying with the ends of the bow while looking at yourself in the mirror. It felt different, that’s for sure, yet it also didn’t bother you at all.not one bit. you actually quite liked this new outfit, though the bow felt a tad too excessive for a serious job like yours. The outfit defines a new era, a new you, a whole new detective after two years of working without him . a detective that doesn’t need to hide in the shadows of their father no longer. Something felt right about this change, about this new look.

“It ain't half bad.”  You muttered. Claudine scoffed at that.

“ ‘ain't half bad?’ you look like a prince charming now!” Claudine grinned. “not too bad of a job, if I do say so myself.”

 Alastor walks up to you, looking at the mirror and fixing his own bow as his gaze falls upon your form in the mirror. “I must say, the bow suits you.” he mused. “but..there’s something missing. “

You turned around to face him directly rather than the mirror. “and what would that be?”

His smile turns into a grin as he gently grabs your chin and lifts up the ends up your lips. “ a smile!” before you could retaliate he lets go of your now shocked face and  points to his own unshakable grin. “you’re never fully dressed without one.” He winked.

Albeit a bit weirded out, you still give him a small,worried smile. “better?”

“..it could use some work.” He hummed. “but it’s good enough as it is!”

“Good, then,” you take out the notebook and pen from your pickets once more and look back at Claudine. “Let's get back to the case at hand, shall we?”

----

The silence of the streets paired with Lington’s judgmental eyes proves to you that Claudine did an excellent job in her work. Perhaps a tad too excellent.

Knowing that Lington’s stare could last for hours if ignored, you give him a roll of your eyes.

“don’t you have a family at home, officer?” you knew that his gaze was anything but infatuation, yet couldn’t help but annoy him with even the very concept of him liking you.

However, Lington seems utterly unbothered. The only indicator you have of his discontempt is the click of his tongue. “what role are you playing this time, N/n?”

His mutter made you flinch, faltering in your ac a bit before giving him a signature smile.

“Did all that coffee get you drunk, detective? don’t tell me you spilled some ... .what do they call it now? oh right,- ‘ illicit beverages’ - in it.”

“ with the way you keep on changin’ the game? I might as well bring some.” He huffed in exhaustion, in hidden rage. “one minute I think we’re playing checkers, next thing you know it’s actually chess. The minute I want to move my piece I see that the fuckin’ pieces are gone and we’re playing dress up instead.”

“oh? so now I’m banned from buying new clothes too?”

“ just what the fuck are you doing Y/n?” Your jab goes unanswered. ” Why do you always gotta be like this? why can’t you cooperate with me?” with every syllable, Lington’s tone grows more desperate.” why can’t you work with us ?—”

“ — you know damn well why, Lington . ” For a moment, for a singular,almost fleeting moment, your mask is down, and your eyes look deep into his own. Into forgotten memories and broken cases. “ That's the thing. You know everything. You know why. Yet you still have the audacity to ask this, the fucking nerve to accuse me of not doing my work.”

“I don’t see where a change of wardrobe could be benefic—“

“I solved every single case I ever laid my hands on.” you tried to make your voice steady, desperately tried to sound like the usual confident detective you are. Yet your heart couldn’t help but shake, causing your words to waver. “ every single case. Except one.”

Something flashed in Lington’s eye. the gaze of a guilty man.

“and that one? Lington? That one case?” you thanked the heavens for letting you have at least control over the volume of your voice. If not, the shakiness would make people think you’re a broken person with a broken heart. An impostor stuck on a play with no backstage and no exit, with an audience that practically lives in their seats. In this moment, you weren’t a confident detective, you were an abnormally tall child with broken dreams, and a raggedy coat. “ that case haunts me . every . day. ”

Lington looks at you with a mixed expression. horrified, concerned, guilty and ashamed. It seems like the words you s[poke to him had left him with his mouth shut and his head hung in shame. Had it been anyone else, they'd feel pride over the fact that they had shut up a prick like him so well. Yet all you could feel was a deep, uncontrollable embarrassment that you needed to dispose of immediately. You need to leave. now.

“now if you’ll excuse me, Sheriff,” your tone quickly goes back to normal, and your expression once again a bundle of confidence and suave. “I have a poor rookie to annoy with some new details about the case. Details I’ve gotten from a certain seamstress .”

Lington takes one deep breath and groans at that. This time, it seems,that your jab has hit its mark.

----

“so…you’re telling me that Mr.Peterson had dealings with the hyacinth?”

“not just dealings lil’ rookie.” You turn around to him, right before going inside the dainty café you had a bad coffee at. “ he used to work for them.”

The rookie gasped at that, clenching his notepad a little tighter.

“and it wasn’t just him.” you dramatize the situation, enjoying the eagerness the rookie is showing for this case. “no no. the truth is more basic than that. It revolves around one thing only. The very thing that drives humans to do anything and everything all at once.”

“W-what's that?...”

You open the door. the cafés bell rings. “ love .”

“ Welcome to—... .oh,…” Jake, the employee without realising it, has done you a favour and threw coffee at the guy you hated most in this world, looking at you with a mix of dejection and hesitance. As if he didn’t want you to come back. “…back for more coffee, detective?”

You held back a wince from the mentioned coffee, looking around the room to spot a certain figure. When you see him, you're glad to know that he’s already charmed up the man you were supposed to interrogate.

“no no, just here to sit next to a friend.” You point to Alastor before grabbing the distracted rookie (from what he was exactly distracted by, you weren’t sure.) and  ignoring the scorching gaze Jake was giving you.

The man behind the counter, an old barista with hands so quick you don’t even notice the glass he’s pouring the espresso in, was talking with Alastor with such glee and enthusiasm that one could almost forget that he was the same guy mere hours ago, angry and giving strict orders to his son for the little mistake he did.

Alastor's posture straightened as he saw your figure approach. “oh, there you are!” he then looks at the barista. “This is the friend I was talking about, Mr.Finch.”

He inspects you for a moment, his gaze hanging on your coat for a bit too long before he cleans his hands with a rag and holds it out to shake. “Well, any friend of lil’ Alastor here is a friend of mine.” He grins.” A pleasure to be meeting you.”

“likewise.” You shook his hand in return, an amused look taking over you as you looked back at the gentleman in red drinking his coffee. “it’s an honour to meet one of the friends of the ever so infamous Lil’ Alastor.” If you hadn’t had sharper ears, you would’ve missed the small grunt Alastor made as he choked on his coffee, trying his best to seem unbothered. He gives you a teasing glance, setting the espresso cup down and leaning back a bit as he listens to Finch’s hollered laughter to your comment.

“ I hope ya don’t think it’s from mockery, Detective.” he leans his shoulder on the counter, looking at Alastor like a proud uncle. “Lil’ Alastor and I know each other from church. Boy was I used to seeing this rascal glued to his mother no matter what.” He shook his head, nostalgic eyes stuck staring at the counter. “say,” he looks back up to Alastor again. “How's the church doin’ son? Any good news?”

“oh?” Alastor tilts his head in curiosity. “you don’t visit the church either,Mr.Finch?”

“guess were both sinners now, ey?” Finch jokes, yet Alastor merely hummed.

“Well, you can’t blame a child for not visiting church in his elder years.” Alastor replied. “After all, I was just there because my dear mother loved taking me with her.”

“Guess you’re right.” Finch shook his head, motioning for you to sit down. You of course obliged.

“Espresso or latte?” he asked.

You hesitate. Your mother’s sweetly saccharine voice echoes through your head. Still remember what he always ordered no matter the consequence.

“espresso, please.” You preferred latte.

“another espresso lover, eh?” he joked.” Say- how did you even meet lil Al’ over here?”

“We actually just met.” Alastor mused.

“ seriously ?”

“yep.” You nodded. “ Mr.Alastor over here was being accused of Mr.Peterson’s murder.”

Finch flinched, his quick and proficient movements of coffee-making artistry coming to a halt as he listened.  Therefore, you continued. “He was unfortunate enough to be the last customer he had that day…and hadn’t it been for the murderer stepping in to confess to the murder, he might as well have been behind bars.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Finch then speaks. “…and who was the murderer?”

“his daughter’s boyfriend, it seems.”

*CLANK!! *

Everyone’s head shifts to the noise, and a wide-eyed, left-hand shaking Jake looks back. first at you, then at the mug, then at Alastor but soon his eyes switches to Finch once more.

“ Jakey —“ Finch grumbled. “how many times do we gotta go through this? be a little more careful!”

“sorry…” Jake mumbled, obviously used to such a scolding. He takes a breath and cleans up. Soon, the atmosphere shifts back into normalcy and Finch starts telling silly tales he has about his church days and his hard time with coffee-brewing at the start of his career. Something about his family all having the same tick of having ‘shaky hands’ whenever stressed, passed down through generations.

As the atmosphere quieted and your espresso gave you a bitter boost, your eyes lingered on two framed pictures right beside the coffee brewers.

Two young men, smiling while pushing each other around. On their jackets, a certain pin caught your attention.

“whose that?” rookie pointed to the other  picture curiously.

“oh, this?” Finch picked it up, looking at it with a perplexed gaze before setting it on the counter for everyone to see.

“It's our family.” He simply stated. “ me, my son jakey, and…my wife Linda.”

Something in your brain clicked. The wife. Linda. She looked awfully familiar.

She resembled Miss Sasha.

----

Fathers are complicated beings.

Parenthood is difficult. You must be emotionally open about your own feelings to understand the child’s. and for most men who have repressed their emotions for decades, such a thing becomes far too difficult to understand. Which is why they made excuses, why they claim that their responsibility merely revolves around working outside the house, to gain enough money to buy weekly essentials and pay the rent. Most fathers fear emotional connection so badly that they’d rather stay in a dead-end job rather than trying to reason with a crying child. Trying to understand why they’re so deeply saddened by such a simple thing. Something that they’d get punished for liking, let alone crying for it.

Your father was different. He was worse.

He saw you as the next heir to the family’s work. The next-in-line that must be trained no matter the cost. So rather than ignoring your needs and hobbies, he berated you for them if they were anything unrelated to detective work. If it’s not chess or puzzles, then don’t play it. if it’s not a mystery book, then don’t read it. Why are you crying? Crying is for the weak. Crying is for the confused. We’re not ignorant, that’s why we’re never allowed to live in bliss.

Safe to say, your relationship with your father has always been…complicated. To the point where you’re not even sure how you feel about him. let alone how you feel about his death.

Perhaps that’s why you knew exactly who the culprit of this case was the moment you locked eyes with them.

“alright, spit it out L/n.” Lington looked at you with annoyance. “ Why'd you make me bring these youngsters here? " especially one that’s still grieving.”

Sasha looked away. Allan took her hand in his.

Ever the nosy, Alastor also stayed behind quietly, leaning on the counter. He shared a knowing look. It seems like he cracked the case as well. ‘ of course he had’ you thought. ‘ This  murder case is simple. The most tragic cases always are.’

The only reason you decided to walk around the street and ask around was so you could get the whole picture, so you could understand things from the murderer's point of view. What kind of pressure were they in, what drove them to do such a thing? Because for this case in particular, you know that the murderer in question is no derived psychopath, nor are they someone out for blood-filled revenge.

They were just a simple baker tired of their cage.

“Let's go over this one more time,” you put your hands in your pockets, walking around in circles as the gears in your head churn and your mind sets up a small play.” The neighbours say they heard two sounds that night. The first one happened right after Mr.Alastor left, so as you know, Alastor is out of the list.”

Alastor nods in delight. “Thank you, my dear.”

“Then, all was quiet in the bakery. As Miss Sasha noted, she went back up to get some rest while his father stayed down and cleaned the place up…but that’s where you lied. Miss Sasha”

“what?”

“the neighbours said they heard a car honk. But they weren’t appalled by it because they’re used to it. your boyfriend Allan was there to pick you up, wasn’t he?”

Sasha’s eyes darted around nervously. “I…”

“That's why he immediately came here and confessed to the murder, even though no paper or radio has even talked about it yet. After all, this seems like a dead-end case, doesn’t it? all the clues are random, the only suspect they had was the unfortunate last customer, and the captain was a huge buffoon who accused anyone on the street of being the murderer just so he can get to go home sooner!”

“hey now that’s—“

“ BUT you got unlucky,” You continued with more enthusiasm, ignoring Lington’s defense. “ You see, you didn’t think that an experienced Detective would take a look at this case, would even bother to solve it..and you’re right. I really wouldn’t have. The only thing I would’ve bothered to do was convince Lington that Mr.Alastor isn’t the murderer -which I did - and then leave. But…while inspecting the body…” you take out a pin from your pocket. The purple on it shining bright. the shape resembling one of a hyacinth flower. “I noticed this, right inside Mr.Peterson’s apron.”

Jake,who was awfully quiet the entire time, gulped. Sasha took a deep,stressful breath while Allan put his head down in shame. Lington, on the other hand, seemed visibly shaken. All while Alastor merely tilted his head in curiosity and amusement.

“The hyacinths are infamous for giving out these pins to all its members.” You state. “ there are a lot of fakes out there…so the hyacinth’s made sure to add something subtle yet visible enough to point out the real from the fakes.” Despite all the protests from Sasha, you scrape the pin against the glass counter. An eerie sound fills the room for a moment until you’re finished. The glass counter has a scratch, yet the pin remains unscathed. “The centre of the pin,” you tapped it. “ it’s made from actual amethysts.”

“couldn’t you just prove that by putting it under a direct light?!” Jake protested, eyes furrowed in pure annoyance by your antic.

“Meh,thought I could prove my point better this way.” You shrugged. “Also this was funnier.”

While everyone grumbled in response to that, Alastor merely chuckled.

“moving on. Yes, this is the real deal. Which means, whatever happened here, might’ve been caused by the hyacinth. Or at least- that’s what my hunch was at the start. So, knowing that Sasha here was lying to me about  a few things, and Allan was so gullible that he didn’t even know how many times he shot Peterson, I knew something else was afoot. Which- this leads us to one of the main questions of the day. How did no one here the gunshot?” you point to the pin. “well, this is your answer.”

“huh?” Allan said in pure confusion. “am-am I the only one that doesn’t get what’s going on here?”

Everyone stayed quiet.

“shit. I am?!” he gasped. “How is the pin related to the noise exactly?”

“the hyacinth,” you looked at him sympathetically. “Are infamous for their ‘game-changing’ equipment. Their silent guns. It’s the reason why they stayed on top for so long. just like the pins, only members of the gang would ever be equipped with these. Mr.Peterson’s own gun was found under the cashier counter, probably stored there for whenever a robbery happens. But that leads to the next question. whose gun was this?”

You point to Jake.

“That was exactly answered when I visited your café. The second framed picture, the one Finch didn’t show…two men were on it, both with the hyacinth pins.” Jake couldn’t help but sigh at your words. “ it was pretty easy to connect the dots…especially after considering what Miss Claudine told me at my visit. “

“according to her, two hyacinth members one day fell in love with the same girl and dropped everything to be with her. It’s an action that led to obvious misfortune. Ah- before I continue…how old are you Jake?”

Jake hesitated for a moment before answering. “nineteen.”

“And you, Miss Sasha?”

“….twenty-three.”

You snap your fingers in realization. “so, Linda, whom I assume is the girl in the old rumours, chose Mr.Peterson. They had a simple life together, and I’m guessing Finch couldn’t just turn back and start over again, not when he has just started a new business and bet everything on it. and so, they stood head to head in business, while awkwardly avoiding each other outside of work hours. a pretty simple story, yes? But, something was unaccounted for. You see, Mr.Peterson had… a bit of an anger problem. Something that, I’m sure Linda has become fed up with and got a divorce. And so, she went to the only person she could trust, while also being able to keep an eye on her daughter’s safety. You can all guess what happens next.”

“this, leads us to one common knowledge about the Peterson family that everyone in the neighbourhood knows about. Peterson was incredibly protective of his daughter. Especially ever since Linda’s mysterious death. Which, leads us to motive.” You look back at Sasha. “Miss Sasha, your father didn’t approve of your relationship with Allan, did he?”

“...is this information really necessary? There’s a reason why I didn’t mention it.”

“did you not mention it because it’s unnecessary or..did you not mention it because it gave you a motive ?”

Sasha stays quiet. All eyes settle on her.

“listen, I won’t force anyone to over-share their private information, nor would do I want to go into details about the other rumours I heard from Miss Claudine…like I’ve said before, whether I was here or wasn’t, wouldn’t have mattered. Because in the end, no matter how long it would've taken, the truth would be revealed. Some detectives would scroll through all the unsolved cases in the cabinets and immediately figure out who the murderer was. so, it's best to come out now with whatever parts of the truth you want to be revealed, rather than being forced to say every single detail of it and perhaps even getting a longer sentence for having it remain hidden for so long. “

Jake, who was visibly shaking, came closer to you as an act of intimidation. “Now you listen here, ‘detective’.” His tone was as shaky as his hands were. “ you don’t know the shit we’ve been through. And you don’t need to know. I swear if you keep pressing on about this I wil-“

“It's over, Jake.” Sasha’s voice was cold, exhausted from the world around her. “We've been caught. It’s over.”

Jake stays quiet. His breath heavy and tears threatening to fall.

“…our mother was… complicated .” Sasha spoke solemnly. “ she lived a completely sheltered life..to the point where she never noticed those red flags my father possessed ...which is why I didn’t want to turn out like her. I didn’t want to sit around waiting in a small  bakery like she did. Living my life with naivety until my father decided who he should marry me off to..so..I used to sneak out a lot in my life..which...led to a lot of unsavory fights and threats…at some point, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I mean- the man wouldn’t even let me continue my studies at least. He wanted me to stay here forever, continuing the business till the day he dies…so…I took the matter into my own hands and sealed his fateHe won’t let me go till he dies, right? well, I’ll just push the grim reaper a lil bit, force him to take my father’s life sooner than what god has planned.”

“but I knew that if I killed him, it would be too obvious..so I needed someone else to shoot the gun instead someone people would’ve never suspected, someone who would remain unseen…that’s when both Jake and Allan offered to shoot for me…I didn’t want to put any of them at risk, but I knew that if I wanted to be free, I had to take up their offer and choose between them. I couldn’t possibly choose Allan, because the neighbours would obviously assume he was the murderer right from the start. How many times have we heard the same story ? ‘loverboy kills unapproving parents to get to the love of his life? ’”

“oh, those stories are always a bore.” Alastor quipped.

“but Jake? No one outside the neighborhood knew my relationship with him. and I was certain that no cop would look that deep into it..not if I acted completely clueless and kept my mouth shut. Of course, I didn’t mean to immediately kill him at first…that was plan B. the original plan was to convince him to let me leave. Allan brought the car, I packed my luggage and soon after the first customer left, I told him everything. He of course blew up. started shouting out nonsense while beating the hell out of Allan…I panicked and called Jake, telling him to come over immediately through the exit…right at that moment he was tending to the small garden at the cafés backyard.”

“hence the dirt-covered footprints..” Lington mumbled.

“It all went by so quickly…one moment, Jake was rushing into the café with a gun…the next, he shot my father twice. One accidentally on the shoulder, the other right above his head to seal the deal.”

“then, I saw you two at the café.” Jake continued. “I knew that you being there meant bad news…but I just..didn;t know what to do. hell I didn’t even know what exactly happened. Only that you were looking deeper into the case. It was at your second visit that I finally realised what was going on..but...”

“It was too late.” You concluded. “and with that, this case is closed .”

----

“I…I don’t get it detective.'' The rookie looked frustrated and deeply confused. “why didn’t Miss Sasha just shoot Peterson in the shoulder and make a run for it? why was she so certain she had to kill him?”

“…we’ll never know.” you shrugged. “but...when you see someone so sure about killing their own caretaker…imagine what the caretaker must’ve done to force them to take such leaps.”

Rookie stays  quiet at that, scribbling everything down so he could write it all in a coherent page later for the station. You leave him be, leaning back at the wall, watching both Sasha and Jake get under handcuffs and ushered into the cars. You take a mental note to talk to Lington later about somehow helping them get a convenient sentence. Perhaps with a few pulled strings you both can convince the judge to send both Sasha to work at an elderly shelter, and for the main murderer, Jake, you can perhaps call up a few pals that can offer him protection. Though…that won’t be of much help. It’s the best you can do.

Something about that frustrates you.

This entire case’s conclusion, frankly, has been nothing but frustrating. Yet, you of all people know how bitter some truths can be. And the consequences of it aren't any less sweeter.

“What's befuddling your mind  this time, Dear Detective?” the ever so confident and cheerful voice of Alastor snaps you out of your thoughts. “you seem quite exhausted.”

“ really ? That’s a shocker.” You scoffed, taking a deep breath as you try to let the exhaustion in your body fade away. Silence overtakes the place for a moment, a serene one that makes you gaze up at the now darkened sky. It’s when you see the stars that you realize that you’ve been out working for an entire day and you can feel your exhaustion flowing back in once more, as if it was never gone in the first place.

“I must say,” Alastor chimed in. “This story’s ending was quite…well, uneventful . Shocking, yes. But not the climax I was expecting.”

“…I was thinking the same thing,” you confessed. “but, that’s the truth with most cases.” your hands went into your pocket, gently touching the hyacinth pin in your hand. “ it’s not always like those dramatic antics that Sherlock Homes or Hercules Poirot find themselves in…don’t get me wrong, it does happen. Just…not as much.”

“Guess it’s my unlucky day.” Alastor grumbled, you couldn’t help but smirk.

“well, you should've known that today was bad news for you the moment you got accused of murder, Mr.Alastor”

Alastor was quiet for a second, a strange smile on his face. “…I guess I should have.” He swiftly turns around to you, the scenery that he was watching before it seemingly far too boring for his tastes now. “any good host of a radio show would know to dramatise the situation just to keep his audience's ears glued to the radio. “ he then sighed, a mischievous smirk on his face. “but I am a man of my word detective. I will say nothing but the truth, no matter how bitterly boring it can be.”

“thank you, Mr.Alastor.” you give him a genuine smile. “I hope you weren;t too bothered by following me around.”

Alastor gives a small smile on his own. He reaches into his pockets, pulling out a card and extending it to you. “Why, it was an absolute pleasure to be around you, my dear.” His eyes squint. “ I can sense that you have a deep sense of showmanship. You’re a fellow entertainer when you need to be. You just remained serious because the situation needed it. this part of your story was anything but a comedy, and you’ve accommodated to it wonderfully.”

“Color me charmed.” You mused, taking the card and inspecting it. His radio-show’s title was right at the center, his own name written beneath it in cursive.

“It would be a pleasure to have you listening in for tomorrow morning.” He then adds,” especially since you’re the very star of the show, my dear.”

You lock eyes with Alastor. Something beneath those brown irises intrigue you, something behind the charmfull act he’s putting on. He's right, you both are merely actors on a stage. Both filling in your roles to continue the show destiny has written for you. And something tells you that this won’t be the last time you’re meeting him. nor do you want it to be the last time.

“…I’ll think about it.” you bought a radio on your way back home that very night.

---A/N-----

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY GOD OH MY GOD IM ALIVE HIIIIII

Ok before I yap for a few paragraphs lemme just say THAT THERE WILL BE MORE CHAPTERS WITH MUCH MORE ALASTOR INTERACTIONS I PROMISE. I JUST FELT LIKE THIS CHAPTER WAS NECESSARY BECAUSE IT’S BASICALLY AN INTRODUCTION TO EVERYTHING THAT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN. IT’S A PROLOGUE FOR EVERYTHING AND I PROMISE THERE WILL BE MUCH MORE SHENANIGANS AND WAY MORE FUN CASES IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!

This was my first time ever writing a detective story, and obviously it has a few flaws. I would love any sort of thoughts and criticism on how to improve it. Though, do keep in mind that this story is more about relationships than it is mystery solving.The cases we’ll look through will be mere vessels for the deeper story, an incredibly complicated plot about two incredibly mentally ill and weird people finding themselves sickeningly obsessed. This is merely the beginning, and I cannot wait to see how you’ll all react when all the gears are set into place, and the angst machine starts working.

I’m planning on only having around three to give chapters related to the ‘human’ side of the story. Because yes, a little spoiler: a lot of the plot will be written down for after their deaths. But before that I decided that I must write the human part first, because without it the emotional weight of it all will be gone.

IF YOU SEE ANY PRONOUN TYPOS WHERE I WRITE SHE/HE RELATED WORDS RATHER THAN KEEPING IT GN FOR Y/N PLS TELL ME I'LL FIX IT IMMEDIATELY RAHHHH

COMMENT PLS PLS COMMENT PLS PLS PLS *gets shot*