#the haunted playground challenge

[astraystayyh]

In my dreams

Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.

Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

skz song series

cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.

a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3

You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.

But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.

Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.

You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.

Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.

And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.

You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.

So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.

You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.

You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now. 

You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks. 

"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks. 

"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.

"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words. 

"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will. 

"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen. 

"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."

You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice. 

"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all." 

Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.

"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.

"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."

"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."

"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.

"I’m not coming."

"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.

"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.

"I’ll see you at 5?"

"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.

Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.  

"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.

"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.

"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.

But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.

Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.

Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.

But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.

So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.  

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.

For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.

You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.  

"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused. 

"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it." 

You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right. 

"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up. 

"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest. 

"I already watched this movie."

"Really? Why are you watching it again?"

"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out. 

You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue. 

His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.

"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.

"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.

You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.

"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"

"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.

"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.

"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.

"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.

"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.

"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.

"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."

Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.

"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.

You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.

You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.

The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.

His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place

"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?

"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.

"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.

"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.

You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.

Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.

Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.

It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-

"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.

"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.

"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.

He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.

"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"

"No?"

"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."

"I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.

"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.

You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.

"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous." 

"I do?"

"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face. 

"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."

This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.

"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time." 

A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.

"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem." 

I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away

"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world. 

"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently. 

"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice. 

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rhythm, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.

You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much. 

Bonus 

"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.

"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.

"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.

"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.

"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.

"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."

"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.

"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.

"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.

"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."

[cherryrouge]

action

lawyer!harry x lawyer!y/n

warnings: profanity, angst, mentions of murder and death

word count: 2.0k

harry styles is a damn good lawyer. he’s intelligent and calculated, but impulsive when necessary. he’s famous for closing deals before they can ever get before a judge and on the off chance that he does have to go to court, he wins. always.

harry styles is the standard for the firm, that much was clear to y/n. from the moment she stepped foot into her interview for holmes & harrison to where she sits now, in her spacious office with a view over looking manhattan.

y/n had no problem winning. she had been excellent in debate in university and law school. she conducted thorough research on her subjects, never leaving any gap for her to be bested. she was cunning, aggressive where she needed to be, and just a damn good lawyer.

all reasons why harry seemed to feel threatened by her.

before y/n, harry was constantly given the most important cases with the most high class clientele. he was praised at every turn for his accomplishments and everyone kissed the ground he walked on. he was the only one doing the work that he was, handling intense cases, often working over night to get to the bottom of the issue and chip away at the fine details in order to spin the evidence in his favor. and, he was the only one winning. reasonably, the attention, the praise, the power, got to him. his ego inflated and he grew arrogant. two things that y/n could not stand. just as much as harry couldn’t stand sharing the spot light.

y/n had begun working at the firm two years ago as an associate and swiftly climbed her way up to partner. she excelled in each position and proved her spot each time. the office was filled with hushed whispers of her name and enthused remarks about her accomplishments.

when she made partner, she was overcome with excitement. she was finally able to handle cases that matched her level and gave her a bit of a challenge and work with those who inspired her. one of those characters being, harry. harry who won cases. harry who had carried clients through long trials to end up victorious, despite how stacked the odds were. harry who was just a damn good lawyer. what she didn’t realize was how much of an asshole he was because of it. brushing off her attempts to start conversation or build an amiable work relationship, telling her that she could speak to him once she “made it off the playground and into the big leagues like the rest of the partners.”

and yes, he had a point. she had been doing pro-bono cases for months when she first became a partner. but that was just situational. no one else wanted to do them, so she did. and she won every single one of them, without really much effort either. the insinuation that she wasn’t on par with the rest of the partners left her blood boiling and her chest flushed because she was! she had climbed the same ladder they had, she had done similar cases to them, and had victory after victory that mirrored theirs! so what if she was doing pro-bono shit! she had her own office with her name on the door, for christ sake!

the notion that despite all of her labour and focus, she still wasn’t good enough enraged her and fueled her desire, no need, to be better than him. she wanted him to be haunted by her existence.

so when she was called into audrey holmes’s office, the managing partner of holmes & harrison, to invite her to assist harry on his newest case, she was elated.

“this case will not be easy,” audrey warned from her place sat at her desk, “but i have hope that you two can finish this.”

“i do, too,” y/n affirms with a smile, “thank you for this opportunity.” y/n stands from her chair opposite audrey and starts walking to the door, her heeled feet clacking against the hard wood floor.

“y/n,” audrey calls her attention back, a request y/n happily complies to, “play nice.”

“so, you trust me to handle this case entirely by myself?” mitch, y/n’s associate, questions from his cubicle. mitch is a rather quite man, driven yet happier in the background. a hard goal to complete in a place like this.

“you know, there comes a point in every associates life where they have to prove that they can handle a situation by themselves.” y/n states, arms crossed with a smirk over her painted lips. if there was one word to describe her, it would be polished. her hair sleek and blown out, her attire plain yet so classy. she was the kind of woman people either wanted to be or be with.

“but this is kind of important-“

“and you are a big boy so you should be able to handle important cases, yes?”

“yes, ma’am,” he replies sarcastically, “why are you giving this to me anyway?”

“i have to help harry with a murder trial.”

“and audrey is ok with that?”

“she insisted upon it.”

“you guys are gonna kill each other.” he says, matter of factly. his tone elicits a laugh out of y/n.

“y/n,” her name is announced from beside her. the voice familiar and haunting, the accent giving away who her caller was.

“harry, how nice to see you!” she says as she turns to face him, faux cheer laced in her tone.

“running back to the playground so soon?” he questions rhetorically with a teasing pout on his pink lips.

“ha, ha,” she jeers, “i’m actually giving mitch a case of mine, seeing as i have a much bigger issue to take care of.” at the mention of his name, mitch goes to introduce himself by stops before the words can leave his lips, realizing it to be ill-timing for such things pleasantries. harry scoffs at her response.

“what? did audrey finally let you take a case that will actually put money into the firm?” harry’s attempt to put her down brings a smirk to her features.

“she didn’t tell you?” she rest one arm against mitch’s cubicle and her other hand on her hip.

“didn’t tell me what?” he crosses his arms and his brows furrow with confusion.

“you might want to sit down.” she now smiles widely, the confirmation that he has no clue giving her the utmost satisfaction.

“i can assure you that whatever you are going to say to me is hardly shocking enough for sitting to be a requirement.” he says, smugly. her eyebrows raise slightly as if asking him if he would like to place a bet on that idea.

“i will be joining you in court.” a beat of silence as harry processes this information.

“on who’s authorization?” his face is the spitting image of irritation

“audrey’s.” her’s the picture of pride and triumph.

“i was doing just fine without you.” he all but huffs out.

“she seemed to disagree.”

“i am going to have a talk with her.” he states, unfolding his arms from their place on his chest.

“you do that.” with that final comment, he turns on his heels and walks out of the associates office. with a proud smile, y/n turns her head toward mitch.

“jesus christ.” he laughs dryly, opening the case file that y/n had given him. she laughs at his remark.

“hm?”

“does she realize that she’s starting a war?” she smiles softly and pats the side of his cubicle.

“less worrying about this, and more focus on mr. jones and his bed bugs.” she says kindly, taking her leave of him.

her venture back up to the partner’s floor was pleasant. she was much happier knowing how angered harry was by her presence in his case. she’d successfully gotten under his skin like he has to her countless times. she stopped on her way to her own office to speak with louisa, harry’s assistant.

“i’m just unsure of why audrey didn’t tell him the minute she decided that you would be joining the case.” she says softly as to not disrupt the rest of the assistants, a nosey bunch of you ask louisa.

“i’m not sure either, but i’m happy that i got to be the one,” she smiles, a laugh laced into her words, “you should have seen his face.” louisa laughs with her.

the opening of a door calls the attention of the two women to the man walking out of it, a scowl on his face.

“how’d it go?” y/n asks sarcastically, a smirk on her lips.

“in my office, now.” he commands, walking past her and louisa without even sparing them a glance. y/n turns to louisa with widen eyes. louisa mirrors her expression.

following him into his office she somewhat regrets her choice of words earlier, she felt wholly unprepared for whatever he was going to say to her. he opens the door for her, allowing her into the space first. a surprising gesture. once she’s stood in the middle of the office just before his desk, she stays still as he moves around to the other side. the two stand and look at each other. his presence is assertive, always has been but now with his hardened features displaying the image of a man angry, he looks dominant. his hair messy yet perfectly placed on his head, his green eyes slightly narrowed, brows and lips set in a hard line. if this were his appearance in any other context, she’d say it was a good look for him. that it made sense why so many women, opposing attorney’s and fellow partners alike, tried to make a pass on him. but this wasn’t any other context.

“if we are going to work together, you have to understand a couple things.” he states, sternly, sitting himself at his desk chair. y/n follows suit, sitting on one of the two chairs on the other side of the desk.

“i’ve already been breifed,” she says with an expression that mirrors his, “reopened murder trial, our client claims he’s been framed, limited to no evidence proving the fact-“

“i put our client in jail.” his statement puts a halt to her listing.

“i’m sorry?”

“when i was working under simon bernstein at maxwell-darby, he had given me this case. prosecutor in a murder trial where every piece of evidence seemed to work in my clients favor. i won the case and locked away, what i know now, is an innocent man for 20 years.” she nods as he recounts his story.

“simon bernstein is a dirty lawyer. he doesn’t play by the rules and i knew that then. but i figured since he pawned the case off to me, there wasn’t any foul play. an incredibly naïve thought. i know that he tampered with the evidence to this case. i just have to prove it to the judge.”

“so, you reopened a murder trial because of a gut feeling?”

“there’s a shirt that the victim was found wearing. there was blood on it, the corner’s speculated that it belonged to the perpetrator as the placement didn’t make sense with her wounds. it was taken in to be tested, but for some reason none of the dna samples where ever brought to court.”

“bribery?”

“very likely.” harry leans back in his chair, still looking at y/n. she tucks a strand of hair behind her ears as she takes in the information.

“we need to get that shirt.”

“you think i haven’t tried that?”

“they wouldn’t let you use it?”

“stated my reasoning for not needing it in the initial trial.” y/n sighs, leaning back and giving herself some space to think.

“who’s their lawyer?” y/n questions, assessing his past clients.

“district attorney, clifford brown. good friend of simon bernstein.” y/n’s eyes light up at the information.

“i think we have our lead.”

-

hello, everyone! i hope you enjoy the first installment of lawyer!harry x lawyer!y/n. i’m planning on it being a four part series, let me know if you have suggestions for these two!

with love, rory.

[nayziiz]

Witness | CL16

Summary: In the shadowy world of Monaco's elite, the Leclerc family reigns supreme. Charles Leclerc, the charming middle son, maintains their pristine public image—until one rainy night, during a fit of rage, Charles does the unthinkable. A young woman witnesses his actions, and her terrified eyes haunt him. Consumed by guilt and fear of exposure, Charles embarks on a desperate search to find her before she can destroy his family’s legacy. As he delves deeper into Monaco's underbelly, Charles must confront his own darkness and the lengths he will go to protect his family.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x OC (name to be revealed)

Warnings: Violence, blood, angst

Masterlist

Chapter 2

It was never her intention to stay in Monaco for as long as she did. The decision was made on a whim, a spontaneous deviation from their original plan. She and her best friend, Diana, had pooled all their savings to backpack through Europe, a final adventure before heading off to university the following year. They had dreams of exploring ancient cities, savoring exotic cuisines, and collecting stories to last a lifetime.

Except, they never made it out of Monaco. Halfway through their adventure, they ran out of money. The glitz and glamour of the principality had drained their funds faster than they anticipated. In a desperate bid to keep their dream alive, they decided to find work in Monaco until they had enough money to continue their journey or return home.

But they stayed. For her best friend, the decision was driven by an insatiable hunger for adventure and the thrill of the unknown. Monaco, with its opulent casinos, stunning coastline, and vibrant nightlife, was an irresistible playground. Every day brought new experiences, new faces, and the promise of excitement just around the corner.

For her, staying was about something deeper, something more poignant. She was trying to find a place to call home after the devastating loss of her parents. The memories of her past were wrapped in sorrow, her hometown a landscape of grief she wasn’t ready to face. If she had to return, it would be to a cold, empty apartment filled with silent reminders of a life she once cherished. The photographs on the walls, the worn furniture, the lingering scent of her parents’ presence—all of it was too much to bear.

Selling the apartment didn’t feel right either. It was her last tangible connection to her family, a physical space where she could still feel their presence. Despite her financial struggles, she couldn’t bring herself to part with it. It was her sanctuary, her link to a past that, while painful, was also filled with love and warmth. The idea of someone else living there, of it becoming just another property on the market, was unthinkable.

So she chose to stay in Monaco, finding solace in its cobblestone streets and the endless blue of the Mediterranean. She worked various jobs, from waiting tables to cleaning hotel rooms, anything that would allow her to survive and maybe, just maybe, thrive. Monaco became a place of healing, a backdrop to her search for a new beginning. It offered a sense of anonymity and escape, a way to redefine herself away from the shadows of her past.

Every day was a balancing act between the need to move forward and the pull of her memories. She built a new life in the bustling, vibrant city, finding moments of joy amidst the challenges. Monaco's beauty and chaos gave her the distraction she needed, and the transient nature of the city’s inhabitants meant she could reinvent herself as often as she needed to.

As they gained experience and confidence, their opportunities expanded. Waitressing in the casino was the next step—a more upscale, lucrative option that introduced them to a different side of Monaco's glittering facade. The casino, with its opulent decor and high-stakes atmosphere, was a realm of its own. She found herself fascinated by the people who frequented it: the wealthy, the desperate, the lucky, and the reckless. Each night brought new stories, new interactions, and a deeper understanding of the world she had plunged into.

Now, she manages the blackjack tables at one of the more popular casinos in the city. It's a position of responsibility and respect, one that she has earned through hard work and dedication. Her calm demeanour and sharp mind make her a natural at handling the complexities of the job. She ensured the games ran smoothly, the customers were satisfied, and the house always had the upper hand. It was a far cry from the uncertain young woman who arrived in Monaco, and she took pride in the journey she had made.

Diana's lust for adventure meant she took a different path. Drawn by the allure of the open sea and the promise of new experiences, she ended up working as a stewardess on one of the locals' yachts. It was a job that took her beyond Monaco's borders, allowing her to travel to Italy, France, and Spain. Each trip was a new chapter, filled with sun-soaked days, glamorous parties, and the thrill of the unknown. She revelled in the freedom and excitement, her heart set on exploring as much of the world as she could.

Their paths diverged, but their bond remained strong. They shared stories of their adventures and challenges, finding comfort in each other’s experiences. She would listen to tales of Mediterranean coastlines and opulent yachts, while Diana would hear about the intrigues and dramas unfolding at the blackjack tables. They were both carving out their own versions of success, driven by different motivations but united by their shared past and the dreams that brought them to Monaco.

In the midst of their bustling lives, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Monaco had become more than just a stop on their journey. It had become a place where she could redefine herself, a place where she could heal.

For her, the days following the incident were a nightmare. She tried to stay indoors as much as she could, avoiding the outside world and the risk of bumping into the murderer. The image of Charles, his hands covered in blood and his eyes wild with panic, was seared into her mind. She didn’t know if he would harm her too and if she was in danger simply because she had witnessed his crime.

She was violently ill, throwing up every day as the memory crossed her mind. The nausea wasn’t just physical; it was a visceral reaction to the terror and helplessness she felt that night. Her once safe and vibrant life in Monaco now felt like a trap, with shadows lurking around every corner. The fear was suffocating, pressing down on her with every heartbeat.

When she finally returned to work, she took a different route, meticulously planning her path to avoid that alley. The thought of walking past the place where she saw the life drain from a man's eyes was unbearable. She couldn’t face it, couldn’t let the reminder of that night haunt her more than it already did. The new route was longer, more cumbersome, but it provided a small measure of psychological relief.

Her colleagues at the casino noticed the change in her demeanour. She was quieter, more withdrawn, her usual spark dimmed by the weight of her secret. Managing the blackjack tables required her to maintain a calm and composed exterior, but inside, she was constantly on edge. Every new customer, every unexpected movement, set her nerves alight with anxiety.

Despite her efforts to avoid the memory, it lingered. The dark alley, the rain-soaked streets, the brutal fight—they were always there, lurking just beneath the surface of her consciousness. She found herself jumpy, easily startled, her senses heightened by a perpetual state of fear. The once vibrant city had become a maze of potential threats, each day a challenge to her sanity.

Diana, busy with her own adventures on the yachts, noticed something was wrong but couldn’t quite understand the depth of her trauma. She tried to be supportive, offering distractions and comforting words, but the horror of that night was something words couldn’t soothe. She couldn’t share the full truth, couldn’t burden her friend with the gruesome reality of what she had witnessed.

She was trapped in a silent nightmare, each day a struggle to maintain a semblance of normalcy while the weight of her secret threatened to crush her. And in the midst of this, Charles was searching for her, driven by his own fears and need for redemption. Their paths, once accidentally crossed, were now inexorably linked, setting the stage for a confrontation that would force them both to face the darkness within and around them.

She contemplated reporting the incident, but fear held her back. She knew he had seen her face, and had gotten a good enough look to identify her. The uncertainty of who he was or what he was capable of paralyzed her. The thought of police protection felt like a distant hope. She was a foreigner, a transient figure in Monaco, and doubted the Monegasque police would prioritise her safety over the influence and power someone like him might wield.

The universe seemed to be playing a sick game of cat and mouse with her and Charles, with each of them constantly missing the other by just a few minutes or a turn of a corner. Their paths continued to intertwine in frustratingly close calls—Charles arriving at a café just as she left, her taking a different route home just minutes before he passed by. The tension built with each near encounter, the stakes rising as both their lives remained suspended in this cruel game.

She tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, but every creak of her apartment, every unexpected knock, sent her heart racing. She kept the lights off, the curtains drawn, as if hiding from the world would somehow keep her safe. She longed for her friend’s carefree spirit, for the days when her biggest worry was earning enough to continue their adventure. Now, every moment was tinged with the fear of being found.

As the days passed, she realised she couldn’t keep living in fear. The incident had fractured her sense of security, but she was determined not to let it break her completely. She started to devise a plan, thinking of ways to leave Monaco, to start over once again. But the thought of running, of abandoning the life she had built, filled her with a deep sense of loss.

Unbeknownst to her, Charles was closing in. His determination to find her, to make things right, was relentless. He scoured the city, desperate for any clue that would lead him to her. The closer he got, the more his anxiety grew, knowing that confronting her would mean facing his own demons and the possible unravelling of his family’s carefully constructed empire.

In the heart of Monaco, their fates were on a collision course, bound by a night of violence and a web of secrets. The question remained: when they finally met, would it bring redemption or ruin for both of them?

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

Taglist: @annie115 @snzleclerc

[dee-writes-angst]

What Once Was Crumbled, Will Be Rebuilt Ten Times Stronger (Prologue)

SUMMARY Tenko Shimera was your best friend, the fire in his eyes fueling your days, until he was gone.

CONTENT WARNINGS death, depictions of homeless children, mentions of abuse, loss, and grief. For the sake of the series (and my conscience), all characters are aged up while still following the plot of MHA. In other words, think of UA as a college rather a high school.

AUTHORS NOTE my love for My Hero Academia is something that I have kept carefully hidden from this platform considering the amount of toxicity surrounding the fandom, but this story idea has swept me up and I really want to share it with you guys. So, I have decided to say fuck it and post it. Happy new series, my darlings! I hope you’ll stick around and get swept up with me.

SERIES MASTERLIST

You had known Tenko Shimura since you were a child, a bond that had grown unbreakable over the years. He was your childhood best friend, the quiet and reserved boy who seemed out of place among the more boisterous children. Yet, beneath that calm exterior, you saw a fire in him, a burning intensity that mirrored your own. His fire was one of hate and anger, a raging storm that contrasted sharply with the deep, unsettling fear that fueled your own ambitions.

Despite his quiet demeanor, Tenko had a unique ability to reassure you. In his presence, you found a strange sense of comfort, as if his anger could temporarily quell your fears. Those moments, fleeting as they were, provided a brief respite from the anxieties that plagued you. Yet, no matter how comforting those moments were, they always ended the same way: Tenko being dragged back home, leaving you to face your fears alone. 

Your memories of those warm summer days are vivid, filled with dreams and schemes of a brighter future. You and Tenko would sit for hours, plotting and fantasizing about the day you both might become heroes. You envisioned yourselves changing the world, making a real impact. Those dreams were your escape, a shared vision that kept you both going through the challenges of your childhood. 

In those days, the world was a place of infinite possibilities. The future was a canvas, and you and Tenko were determined to paint it with your dreams. You believed that together, you could overcome anything, that your combined strength and resolve would be enough to conquer any obstacle. The bond you shared was more than just friendship; it was a partnership forged in the fires of ambition and fueled by the desire to make a difference. 

As you both grew older, Tenko’s fire only grew brighter and harsher. He renounced the world that caused him so much torment and pain, his dreams slowly shifting from idealistic visions of change to fantasies of destruction. Tenko wanted to burn everything down and revel in the screams of suffering, his anger turning into a desire for vengeance against a world that had wronged him. 

Your path, however, took a different turn. Despite the hardships you faced, you clung to your dreams, even on those cold nights spent sleeping on benches in parks or hidden behind disgusting dumpsters in alleyways. In the shadows of the city, you found strength in your vulnerability. Every harsh experience, every cold night, and every moment of loneliness forged you into someone determined to make a difference. You saw the world’s cruelty firsthand and vowed to fight against it, not by destroying it, but by changing it from within.

Comfort was a foreign concept to you. You had never felt the gentle caress of a mother or heard the deep belly laughter from playing with a father. Your life began in an alleyway that looked like any other dark alleyway in the city—cold, ruthless, and haunting. 

You had met Tenko when he dared to run away from home one fateful day. He found you on a playground bench, shaking you awake with a mixture of curiosity and concern, asking if you were dead. When you confirmed that you were alive, he smiled at you—genuinely smiled—a rare warmth that you hadn’t experienced before. He tugged you off the bench and into the playground, where the bark chips bit into your bare feet. You had outgrown your only shoes years ago, and each step left small streaks of blood behind, but you ignored the pain. 

Tenko was animated, talking excitedly about a game he wanted to play. His energy and enthusiasm were infectious, a stark contrast to the indifference you were used to from others. No one had ever noticed you before; they simply went about their day, oblivious to the child shivering on a park bench. But Tenko saw you. He acknowledged you, pulled you into his world, and gave you a taste of what it felt like to be seen and valued. 

It was that day, amid the bark chips and bleeding feet, that Tenko Shimura became more than just a boy who ran away from home. He became your best friend and your hero. His smile, his warmth, and his willingness to reach out to you forged a bond that would shape your life in ways you couldn't yet comprehend. From that moment on, Tenko was a beacon of hope and companionship in your otherwise harsh and lonely existence. 

Everything had changed one cold night in October. By this time, you and Tenko were inseparable. His itching had worsened over the months, but what truly bothered him wasn’t the itching itself. It was his mother smothering him in cream and offering false sincerities. He had tried many times to get his mother to let you stay after he was found and forced home, but once bruises started appearing on his skin, he refused to ask again. The dark marks marring his soft skin grew more frequent, a silent testament to his hidden suffering. You tried to ask him about it once, but he became very quiet, and his itching grew so intense that he started to bleed. Since then, you assumed he wasn’t ready to share and let it drop. 

It was a particularly harsh night when you lost your best friend. You stayed close to his house, having set up your makeshift home in an alleyway about two blocks away, curled tightly under a thin sleeping bag to ward off the cold. In the middle of the night, a loud crash was quickly followed by the ground shaking beneath you. Despite the maturity you had been forced to develop in your time alone, you were still a child, so you ran to Tenko’s home seeking comfort. But all you found was rubble. The ear-splitting crash and the shaking ground were caused by his home collapsing. Your small hands pushed and pulled at the debris, desperately trying to save your friend, sobbing and heaving as you searched all night long. You were too weak, too young to make any impact on the devastating collapse. 

That night, amidst the tears and cries of agony as you cut your small hands and knees on the rubble, you vowed to become a hero. No matter what it took, you would not allow another person to lose a best friend the way you had. The memory of Tenko, the boy who had seen you, acknowledged you, and become your hero, fueled your determination. His smile, his warmth, and the bond you shared would forever be the driving force behind your quest to make a difference in a world that had taken so much from you. 

[sitp-recs]

are there any fics you associate with autumn? any pairings! 😊

Oh what an interesting ask! Love it 🍂 can’t start without mentioning @peachpety’s Autumn Drarry drabbles (check my rec post here) and Thirteen ficlets, autumn classics! Some other (Drarry) fics that came to mind are:

Home is a Feeling by bluefay (G, 1.2k)

Growing up, home was a place. Now, Draco knows that home is a feeling.

Autumn in the Air by @the-starryknight (T, 1.7k)

Draco had never been here before.

The Morning Walk by RurouniHime (NR, 2.6k)

Draco finds solace in his morning strolls.

Spooked in Salem by @xanthippe74 (T, 3.4k)

When his holiday with Draco in Salem, Massachusetts, doesn’t go to plan, Harry takes a walk to figure things out. A story about saving someone you love from the ghosts that don’t go bump in the night.

Fold Gently by @saintgarbanzo (E, 7k)

There's a spot in rural Ohio that's always shaded. If someone were to stand at that spot they might notice the cloud over that bit of otherwise unremarkable land is never blown away on the breeze, but no one ever does. Except Draco Malfoy.

in between two tall mountains (there's a place they call lonesome) by @oknowkiss (E, 8k)

In the shadow of a mountain on the Oregon coast, there may or may not lie a shipwreck, on which there may or may not be a magical relic, lost hundreds of years ago. Harry's been tasked with finding it, and Draco is there to take notes, and they're stuck in a campervan pretending to be married, and it's all going to be just fine. That's what Draco's gotten rather good at telling himself, anyway.

The Virtues of Hygiene and the Binary of Labour by @piarelei (E, 14k)

Draco does what he always does every autumn; packs his bag and follows a path back home. This time, Potter just happens to travel the same roads.

if the bees know by @oflights (T, 19k)

Scorpius' playground is haunted, Harry specializes in helping ghosts pass on, and Draco just wants his son to be safe.

An Autumn Time by @bafflinghaze (G, 29k)

Autumn, October. Another season, another month. Yet for all the repetitiveness of the seasons and the months, change is constant as old things end and new things begin. With Grimmauld Place falling down and with the distance between Harry and Draco becoming smaller both metaphorically and physically, this will inexorably be yet another month of change.

Take A Chance On Me by @mintawasalreadytaken (E, 41k)

There's a DJ on RareFM with a secret. Or: the one with all the ABBA in it.

Hollow by Writ_and_romance (M, 52k)

In the rising tide of autumn, Harry and Draco found themselves bound by the challenge of raising pumpkins from a barren garden in time for the Halloween feast. If they expected the task to be simple, however, the complexity of collaborating would prove them wrong faster than the leaves could turn. Is it harder to contemplate one's post-war existence or coax a gourd to harvest?

Terrible People by @wolfpants (E, 52k)

What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right?

[guy-writes]

“Ye know they say this house is haunted” (John “Soap” Mactavish x GN! Reader)

Warnings: Shadow figures? No pronouns for reader other than ‘you,’ pre-established relationship, Johnny scares reader lol

You and Johnny are taking a small road trip to stay at his family’s farm, he decides to make a quick pit stop to show you an old hang out spot of his. It does not go as he planned… 

For @glitterypirateduck vacation mode challenge! This was inspired by prompts 42: Ghost tour (even though ya’ll aren't touring lol) and 77: Road trip. This was also heavily inspired by something that happened to me, sadly I didn’t have Soap there to help lmao

“What is this?”

“An abandoned house.”

“I know, but that doesn’t explain why we’re here…”

You and Johnny had been on your way to visit his parents’ farm. It would be a nice getaway for you both, considering how hectic your lives have been recently. 

Well, that was before Johnny – under the guise of ‘taking a short cut’ – had led you here, to this abandoned house. It had definitely seen better days. The outside was rotting, shingles had fallen off and there were a few holes near the bottom of the house. The windows were either boarded up or broken and whatever paint was left was clinging onto the brick for dear life. You watched as Johnny walked over to the rickety stairs and tested his foot on it, decided it was alright, then walked up them to get to the door. 

“Johnny- what the hell are you doing?” 

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanted tae show ye the old hang out spot.” 

“You and your friends hung out here?” You gave the house a once over again before giving him a deadpan stare. It didn’t help that the sun was setting. It wasn’t hard to believe he and friends used to hang out here, this was Johnny you were talking about. The more you stared at him the more he was giving you that look. The look that pleaded with you to just humour him this once. Sadly it worked- It always did. You found that your feet had taken you right beside him on those rickety stairs. He gave you a cheeky grin before taking your hand in his and opening the door. It creaked so loudly, Johnny opened it so fast that the door hit the wall with a bang. 

“...Oops,” he didn’t look all that apologetic and stepped forward, gently pulling you along with him. You both stepped inside and immediately were hit with the scent of dust and mildew. 

The inside didn’t look that much better than the outside. It was rotting away in there, most of the furniture was gone but the ones that remained were covered in greenery that was taking over. The floor had a few holes, when you looked up you could even see into the second floor. The floral wallpaper (or what was left of it) was peeling or ripped off the walls. You coughed lightly from the amount of dust in here and covered your nose. 

“Ye know they say this house is haunted,” Johnny said, he had a mock serious look on his face.

“Ah, now you're pulling my leg,” you gave him an unimpressed look, the only thing haunting this house was the dust. You let go of his hand and started poking around the house, might as well do something. Going near the kitchen you spotted nothing in particular, besides some debris and a lone table. 

“It’s true, this house is basically a legend… They say a farmer and his wife lived here, but somethin’ happened that made the wife go a wee bit mad before murderin’ her husband.”

“Johnny, that sounds like something thirteen year olds tell each other on the playground…” You grumbled out, growing more and more unimpressed at him. You were starting to think he was up to no good. He gave you a small pout before shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“Fine, don’t believe me, but when ye encounter the angry ghost of the wife don’t come runnin’ to me for help,” he imparted before sauntering over to the stairs and going up to the second floor. You could hear the creaky floorboard under his feet as he walked around. You rolled your eyes before exploring the kitchen more. You noticed that under the table there were newer floorboards, like someone fixed that area up. You pushed the table away, seeing that it was a crawl space, you lifted up the cover and discovered some photos. 

You picked one up and saw a younger looking version of Johnny along with four other kids. They looked to be goofing off in the living room of the house, it looked much cleaner than it does now. Johnny still has that boyish grin that he gets when he’s having fun. You smiled, taking a look through the other photos in the pile. Most of them were of Johnny and his friends goofing around or fixing up the place. While shuffling through the pile you heard a loud bang coming from the second floor. It made you jump and whip your head around towards the stairs. 

“Johnny! Are you alright?!” You shouted.

Johnny never answered you.

Growing a bit concerned you pocketed the photos and walked over to the stairs. You looked up towards the foyer and saw nothing there. You shuffled your feet, starting to grow uneasy now. It was too quiet, besides the wind that was howling. The upstairs looked darker than the rest of the house, that’s where most of the boarded up windows were.

“Johnny?” You called out again.

Still no response.

“John MacTavish, this isn’t funny!” You shouted. You swore you heard some shuffling towards the end of the foyer. But you still got no answer from him. You huffed, growing more uneasy but now you were frustrated. 

“Soap I swear to god if you scare me…” You called out again before moving to go up the stairs. Once you made it to the top, there were three rooms presented. Two seemed to be bedrooms and one was a bathroom. It was way dustier up here than downstairs. You grumbled as you walked over to the bedroom on the far right. There was nothing but a dusty, stained up mattress, a broken wardrobe, and rotting vanity desk with a cracked mirror. 

“Boo!…” Someone whispered in your ear, wrapping their arms around your torso and bringing you closer towards them. You screamed, spinning on your heels so fast your arm whacked the person behind you in the stomach. 

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus!... Mo ghraidh, are ye tryin’ to kill me?” You saw Johnny rubbing his stomach in pain, even if you didn’t hit him that hard. You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms and giving him a pointed look.

“Maybe I should ‘cause of the stunt you just pulled… I thought something happened!” You exasperated, you were happy he was fine (minus the hit you gave him) but that was uncalled for. You pinched his nose as revenge.

“Ack! Ah’m sorry, okay?? It was funny though…” He mumbled out before snickering to himself and that earned yet another pinch from you. 

“Uh huh… laugh it up mister…” you playfully rolled your eyes at him, you did see the humour in it after the initial annoyance dissipated and laughed along with him. Johnny looked over your shoulder towards the vanity desk, his laughter dying out. He squinted his eyes towards what he was seeing in the mirror. You raised an eyebrow, frowning at the focused look Johnny was giving.

“What the hell is that?” he whispered.

“What?” You asked, turning around to have a look but before you could- Johnny took your hand and started gunning it towards the stairs. 

“What?- What!?” You pressed, you turned to look behind you and saw in the mirror there was a tall, dark shadow in the corner of the room where the vanity was pointing. You saw its head following your moments as you both ran out the room. You felt a cold chill go down your spine as you let out a blood curdling scream. You both made it to the stairs, but running down them was a challenge. Johnny was trying to make you run in front of him- but they were too narrow and the edges of the steps were smoothed. 

That, combined with both your clumsy footwork, made you end up falling on your back and sliding down the rest of the stairs. You almost took Johnny out with you if he wasn’t holding onto the railing. He yelped, watching helplessly as you slid down the rest of the way. You started crying from both the fear and pain you felt. Pain was shooting up your back, your spine took most of the hit when coming down. It also burned, you tried getting back up but straightening out caused you to cry out in more pain.

Johnny quickly scooped you up in his arms and threw you over his shoulder. He sprinted the rest of the way to the car. Your back was in immense pain and being jostled around didn’t help. Once Johnny was at the car, he carefully placed you in the passenger's seat before running around and throwing himself in the driver's side. He stared out towards the road, panting lightly from the excitement of it all. The pain in your back was subsiding but you feared that your back was all scratched up from your slide down. You flinched but adjusted yourself to sit up right.

“Are ye alright?” Johnny finally asked.

“Yeah- I think I’ll live…” You groaned out. 

“Want me to check it?” You nodded your head and turned your back towards him, closing your eyes so you didn’t have to stare at the house. He gently lifted your shirt up, you heard him take a sharp intake of air through his teeth.

“Is it that bad?” You worriedly asked.

“Well… It could be worse…? Yer back is scratched to hell plus yer shirt was a bit torn from the fall,” he explained. He let go of your shirt, letting it fall back to its original spot. He gave you a reassuring rub on the shoulder, away from the injury, and kissed your temple. You shuffled back to face forward once more, sighing from pain and slight exhaustion. You opened your eyes and looked over at Johnny. Concern and regret was written on his face.

“My ma has some ointment and bandages at the house, we’ll patch ye up when we get there,” he kissed your head again before turning the keys to turn the ignition on. He started driving towards his family’s farmhouse, not making any more spontaneous detours. You had time to ponder what the hell just happened a few moments ago. Both you and Johnny had seen something in that vanity. A dark, shadowy figure as tall at the ceiling, was that even real?

“Did we actually see what we saw? Or are we just really tired from the drive?” You tried to rationalise. But it didn’t make sense that you both saw the exact same thing. Johnny seemed to tense for a moment, shuddering softly to himself.

“I- I don’t know… Ah was making that whole story up to scare ye- I didn’t think…” He wasn’t sure what to say about the situation, sure- he liked watching those cheesy ghost videos but he never actually thought they were real. He groaned, not liking the way his little stop turned out. You could see he was sitting with his regret, like that ghost showing up was any of his fault. You patted his thigh in a comforting manor before remembering something. You waited until you got to his parents’ house though. 

“We’re here,” Johnny parked the car with a tired sigh. 

“Hey… uh, I found something interesting while at that house,” You fished around in your pockets, pulling out the stack of photos you found. You gave them a once over, none of them were ruined during the chaos. You handed him them and he gasped in recognition. He had a fond smile on his face as he flipped through the photos.

“So,  are you going to explain why those were hidden under the floorboards?” You inquire once he’s done flipping through them. 

“Aye, it was just for safekeepin’, we wanted to hopefully go back and fix the old place up more,” he explained, “Obviously that never happened but I’m glad ye found these, mo ghraidh,” he kissed you softly and that seemed to be the end of that. 

…

Johnny’s ma was currently fussing over your back injury. While she was cleaning and disinfecting the wound she was scolding Johnny for bringing you there in the first place. It was kind of funny watching it all play it out. Your attention was brought away from them when his older sister walked into view and cleared her throat. 

“What’s that behind your friend John?” She picked out the photo she was talking about and handed it over to Johnny. He seemed to pale slightly once he saw what she was talking about. He just silently turned the photo towards you and his ma. There in the right corner behind Johnny’s friend was the thing you both saw in the vanity. 

“Man, I guess you’ve got a stalker,” You joked. Johnny’s ma initially gasped in horror before laughing at your joke.

“That’s not funny, hen,” he grumbled.

WC: 2,152

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[neuroprincess]

LuLu Goes to Daycare - Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Summary: Melissa doesn't want to do it, Y/N denies being worried and both moms don't know how to deal with their baby's first day at daycare.

Classification: Domestic fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: +3000

Note: I know that the post with Ava won the poll, but I've been in hospital twice this week, had injections in hips and spent days unconscious due to medication, after all that I just wanted to write a bit of family comfort. The next post will be about Ava, as soon as I get better ^^

Unrevised

With a hand to her face to protect against the sun, Melissa lets out a long sigh and looks at the colorful entrance. Parents carrying their little ones pass her by, most of them with big smiles and excited about the start of another school year. She herself is excited, misses her children and work routine, but feeling the opposite at the mere thought of leaving Luca at daycare. The baby's babbling brings her out of trance, his little feet tapping against the seat cushion in agitation, caught up in everything that's happening around him.  

"Ready for this, darling?" Y/N asks her wife, working hard at getting the little boy out of the car seat. 

She nods, not a sincere answer, there's an unpleasant feeling in the pit of the stomach, the same as when doing something difficult, a challenge or the one that haunts everyone when doing something for the first time. Despite all the insecurities and even a little fear, she wants to pass on some kind of confidence to her little family in this big step.  

"LuLu looks so handsome." the younger whispers, straightening his clothes once she has managed to get him out of the equipment, a yellow dungaree and cotton T-shirt have been chosen, shoes have long since been thrown in the air "I think he's a bit hot."  

"Fever?" they look at each other in alarm and soon they're both standing over their son checking his temperature with the back of their hand, then with the thermometer just in case "I don't know whether to laugh or cry, we've been working with children for years and now we look like two complete laymen."  

"Aren't we looking for excuses?" the reluctance hits Y/N, she's never been separated from him for more than a few hours and now she'll have to spend the whole day without being by her chubby side. The couple stare for a few seconds, reflecting, in the end deciding to cover up how emotionally drained they really are by this "Nah." they say in unison.  

"The gate will close soon, let's take our tesoro." the redhead leaves the car, turns around to open the door, stretches out the arms to take Luca on her lap, can't resist showering his rosy cheeks with kisses and getting the cutest giggles out of him, little teeth showing "Time passes so quickly, just yesterday he looked like a plucked chicken and today he's a little prince."  

"Did you just compare our son to a plucked chicken?" incredulous, the girl closes the car door and holds back a laugh, stuck in the back of her throat, making her cough dryly.  

"And I lied?"  

Y/N rolls her eyes, kissing the boy on the forehead, admiring every tiny detail of him, from rust-colored hair to the freckles he seems to have inherited from the Schemmenti, simple but still present on his snub nose and chubby little arms. When he arrived, he was very small, large for a premature baby, gradually taking on his mother's features, personality and appearance. A little human about to begin a new stage.  

The path from the entrance to the classroom door is tortuous, not even the photos of children having fun reassure them, the corridor is full of them, playing in the playground, using paints, dressed up, dancing, among other clearly fun activities.  

"Excited, bambino?" the eldest asks, lifting him up so that they're face to face, hopefully expecting LuLu to deny it and give a reason to turn around, but he nods in the affirmative with a cheeky smile "Sure?" he nods again, jumping up and down with excitement "Amore mio, I don't think he understands and leaving him here could probably make our baby feel abandoned, cause trauma..."  

"But almost all children go to daycare and are fine, LuLu is smart, loves socializing and learns quickly." Y/N says calmly, more to herself than anything else, fingers stroking the thick curls of the boy who is now oblivious to the conversation, concentrating on the movement around "And he's your copy, which means he'll do well. Don't you agree, darling?" 

Melissa sighs and fights the impulse to snort at her wife, who knows how to pull all her strings and hit her in the right places. Knowing that she can't resist her charms, she decides to give in, only agreeing in a grumpy whisper. Stubbornness is a family heirloom. Pride too.  

"Time to go, big boy." she announces to the baby, who giggles at the two of them, arms waving as if he understands everything that's being said "Okay, keep it up and maybe you'll give Mama Mel some courage." the redhead whispers last, taking the first steps into the nightmare.  

Disgusted, she finds the designated room more than quickly, the pair of teachers at the door waiting for their fellow little angels to appear. Melissa shamelessly tries to see more of what's going on behind the doors, where many of the crawling babies are playing on the carpet. She can't hold back a smile realizing that although she isn't a paragon of stature herself, their son is by far one of the biggest babies in the daycare, not least because he already stands out with cute big cheeks and rust-colored hair that's starting to curl at the ends.   

Y/N hands the baby bag over to one of the teachers and joins her family, now visibly fearful, all the insecurities she tried to keep to herself and ended up brushing under the carpet come to the surface in a matter of seconds. What if he doesn't adapt? Because he's an only child and relatively spoiled, he ends up fighting with one of his classmates over a toy? Or if they hurt him? If there are other children with their first teeth looking for something soft to bite and why not little Schemmenti's chubby arms?  

"...please don't forget to put the yellow blanket over his face when he goes to lie down, Luca can only fall asleep with this one." the younger gives the last instructions from the short list of quirks that come in their son's handbook.  

"Right..." the teacher murmurs in disbelief, having learned that she would have two parents who are professionals in the same field, she thought it would make the process much easier, only to discover that it was quite the opposite "Now, if you'll excuse me..." she nods and tries to escape, pretending that someone is calling her, only to be intercepted on the way by the other mother lion and her dozens of extremely specific questions.  

After a few minutes and many kisses, the two moms leave the building with empty arms and hearts sunk with the terrible feeling of not being close to their little boy. For eight months carrying him and for another ten they kept him only to themselves, attached by the hips, having never spent more than a prolonged nap equivalent to a romantic dinner away. They stop for a few seconds in front of the car, ideas running through their heads and none of them believing that everything is going to be all right, anxiety hitting hard.  

"You know..." they say in unison, thinking of excuses to get rid of each other.  

"I need a new laptop charger and we passed a store a block away." Y/N starts, slurring a few words, and points in the opposite direction "You go ahead, I'll take a uber later."  

"All right, Barb just texted me to give her a ride." Melissa smiles, as if destiny were helping her "See you in Abbott, take care, cara mia." and approaches, placing a chaste kiss on the lips of her wife, no idea that she has plans of her own.  

Half a block away and the car parked on the other street, they both sneak into the daycare, taking advantage of the movement of some late families to sneak in. Melissa gained access to the garden next to the classroom by convincing a member of staff that she had lost her earring in the grass, while Y/N managed to get past everyone to the door without attracting attention.  

When the corridor empties, she approaches the glass, eyes instinctively searching for her son and soon finds the boy crawling across the carpet with the others, a dozen toys scattered around them. It doesn't take long for LuLu to find something colorful and eye-catching to put in his mouth, something he's been doing frequently since the first teeth appeared, swallowing all the unknown microscopic germs that cause chills in Y/N, as in Melissa, jaws open in disbelief as no teacher stops the scene.   

"No, no, no!" the youngest whispers, wishing that mental begging could intervene. 

On the other side, the redhead is in the same state, her face pressed against the window to get a better view and equally shocked. They knew this moment would come and, no matter much planning and preparation, it's still hard to face your firstborn's first day. He's so curious, cheerful, full of life and can inspire anyone nearby, so spirited and brave that he doesn't even seem to mind being away from home and his moms' presence. This brings a genuine smile to Melissa's face, for her everything seems like a dream and she has the impression that she might wake up without everything she has achieved. After a collection of failed relationships, she has found the woman of her life, motherhood, which had been put aside for many years, has come naturally and a son she never imagined she would have before is now cradled in her arms every night, also giving her wet kisses and the most sincere affection in the world. After all the new world her little family has presented her with, the fruit of their love is growing incredibly fast and giving her new challenges. This is another one of them, to leave him for a few hours longer, to trust the precious life of their bambino in the hands of complete strangers.  

"What?" her eyes widen as she turns towards the door and finds her wife's unmistakable face stuck in the glass, staring at the whole scene "Amore mio!" she whispers, waiting for the girl to turn around and finally realize that she is there.  

Torturously long seconds pass before their gazes meet, the two of them not knowing exactly how to react, as if they had been caught in the act of committing a crime.   

"What the hell are you doing there?" she mimes with lips, pointing in her direction.  

"Looking after our son!" Y/N tries to defend herself, reading lips and miming too.  

"Did they let you in?" she is outraged, because she had to make up a huge excuse just to get into the garden.  

"Of course! I pretended to be a teacher..." she begins to explain and gestures pointing to herself, then to the corridor "And they let me stay here. It's dangerous..."  

"I know! Anyone can get in."   

They start a short conversation through the windows, even though they can't hear each other, they understand well after years of living together, it's easy to know what they're talking. So entertained, they barely notice that the teachers stare at them in surprise and just wait for them to finish their conversation before intervening, which takes a while. The couple begin to explain detail by detail how they got to where they are and then how LuLu can get sick in the very first week.  

"Excuse me!" one of them says loudly, close to a shout, and draws both of their attention to herself, faces flushed with embarrassment "Headmistress's office, now!" the teacher points to the door and snorts, disbelieving what she has just witnessed.  

Melissa can't help but roll her eyes and laugh at her wife's frightened expression as she heads towards the office, walking at a quick pace to avoid the woman who is walking behind her at a brisk and irritated pace. Back in her school days, when she used to get into so much trouble that at one point her parents didn't even care, she finds herself in front of a headmistress/principal with arms folded and not knowing what to do. It's a more than unusual situation in her years in the profession, there have been worried parents before, the kind who call repeatedly or send special porridge for fear that their babies won't eat properly, but they've never had one, in this case two at once, keeping an eye on what happens in the daycare and so blatantly.  

"Mrs. and Mrs. Schemmenti, would you like to explain to us what you were doing?"  

"Well..." the redhead mumbles, unsure exactly how to follow and for the first time stutters when explaining something "I... We, my wife and I... We're first-time moms and we really struggled to have our bambino, although we know you have incredible professionals... Well, I guess that's it, first-time mom panic..."  

"And a bit overprotective." Y/N adds, swallowing the lump in her throat "Okay, very overprotective." 

"Admitting it is always the first step." the headmistress says wryly and clasps hands together on the desk "But you know the rules here, you signed a contract..."  

"We swear it's an isolated situation and will never happen again." the eldest intervenes, feeling guilty, she was the one who was the most negative and full of worries about Luca joining the daycare, if it was entirely her choice she would have kept her family at home and safe "We were just very nervous and worried about him adapting, tesoro can be a bit of a difficult baby to deal with..."  

"Stubborn..."  

"Clever..."  

"And he doesn't know when to stop eating."  

 "That's true! Remember the time he ate half the parmigiana on my plate? I felt so proud..."  

"Your face said everything, it was so beautiful to watch. He's inherited your good appetite, that's for sure."  

The headmistress coughs falsely, bringing them back to the subject, letting a smile slip. 

"It's hard when it's our turn, isn't it?" she asks rhetorically "We hope that we can have your vote of confidence to look after little Luca. I know it's a new phase of adaptation that can be really hard, both for him and for you, but we really need your cooperation."  

"If it'll put your minds at ease, we can send a photo... or photos, we usually register all the activities and share them." the teacher suggests, softening a little "And you know that you can pick him up early, right?" 

They nod, feeling even more embarrassed, at the same time good about the understanding they are receiving and the alternatives given.  

"Thank you for your patience, we swear this won't happen again." the younger promises, smiling shyly "We'll follow the rules perfectly."  

"I'll take your word for it. You're free to go, Mrs. Schemmenti!"  

With tails between legs, the couple leave, without the courage to look each other in the eye after the scolding. Guilt gnaws at them too, not for sneaking off to watch LuLu, but for lying, something they never do and hate having to do. Melissa sighs as she approaches the car, bringing a hand up to her wife's, interlacing their fingers and carefully pushing her against the door, face to face.  

"I'm feeling like a rebellious teenager." she jokes, tone low, playful smirk not reaching her eyes "How are you?"  

"You know I was a good student." Y/N retorts, the fun of their relationship is the differences that only improve the dynamic "Darling, are you really okay?"  

"Would it be wrong or annoying for me to say that I'm still worried?" the woman bites her lip and looks away, feeling incredibly vulnerable "Now our little boy is being looked after by someone other than us and I don't have a manual for that..."  

"Hey, hey, it's okay, none of this is wrong or annoying, you're very attached and being away like this is a big step to take."   

The woman smiles weakly and moves closer, letting herself be enveloped in warm comfortable arms, feeling the sweet perfume, soft hands caressing her back and the voice that calms her in the midst of a hurricane of chaos, so she feels confident and safe for the first time all day, maybe all week.  

"Thank you for always understanding and loving me."  

"It's nothing more than my duty as your wife, darling." Y/N jokes and kisses her forehead, moving down to place a quick kiss on the lips "You know, I was trying to think of positive sides and what do you think of this one? Three extra hours we have after work, just to..."  

"But I want to pick him up the second we leave Abbott." the redhead says back and unlocks the door of the vehicle, opening it for the younger to get in.  

"I don't think you understand..."  

"Yes, I do, amore mio." and practically pushes her into the passenger seat, kissing the flushed cheeks and barely noticing the confused expression on her face "I wonder if there's a store nearby that sells micro cameras? We could put them in his bag."  

Mel gets into the driver's seat and begins to ramble off crazy ideas, which seem more like surveillance strategies than mere maternal concerns. While she pours out these plans, Y/N just shakes her head negatively, holding back a laugh. It's not usual to see Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti, the tough and fearless one, shed her posture like this, but when it involves her family and, especially, her son, she turns into a ferocious, somewhat irrational and very emotional lioness. It's a side that rarely emerges and, when it does, is compared to a natural event - beautiful to watch and potentially dangerous.  

"Am I thinking too much and overreacting again?" she stops rambling and asks, already knowing the answer.  

"Just a little. Come on, once we get to work, I'll make you some tea to calm you down."  

"Thank you, Principessa."  

"And no running off during class to see LuLu."  

"Hypocrite!" 

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[cheynovak]

Sheriff’s Bargain

Characters: Beau Arlen x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:  Y/N, a seasoned con artist, is arrested after returning to Montana, where her past comes back to haunt her in the form of Sheriff Beau Arlen—the man she abandoned five years ago. Facing charges linked to a drug lord, she’s offered a deal to work as an informant. Torn between her criminal life and lingering feelings for Beau, Y/N must decide whether to help him bring down the crime ring or continue running from her past.

Warnings: Mentioning of breaking the law

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

I’ve always lived by one rule: never get attached. It’s a good rule when your life revolves around lies, schemes, and the occasional robbery. My world was all about the next con, the next score. Keep it simple. Keep it clean. And most importantly, never catch feelings.

But then I swiped right on Beau Arlen.

It all started with a silly swipe on an online dating app. I’d been scrolling aimlessly, a glass of wine in hand, bored out of my mind, when his profile caught my eye. Tall, rugged, with an easy smile and sun-kissed hair, he was the definition of all-American charm.

Sheriff.

That little detail was tucked away in his bio, barely noticeable. I knew then it wasn’t just boredom pulling me into a potential meet-up; this was a chance. Law enforcement wasn’t usually my playground, but something about him made me curious. A sheriff? That kind of information could be worth a lot in the right hands.

I was hooked. So, I did what I do best. I played the part—Y/N, the carefree, slightly adventurous girl just looking for a connection. We started chatting, and he was exactly what I expected—kind, witty, a little rough around the edges but warm. He was also recently divorced. No kids. And I learned, without even asking, that I was the first woman he’d dated since. That little fact should’ve sent warning bells off in my head, but instead, it intrigued me. Made me want to know more about him, which was the first sign I was slipping.

I could already picture our first date, where I’d play innocent and sweet while subtly probing for information. The game was on.

Two days later, I found myself in the dimly lit corner of a small bar in Austin, Texas, waiting for Beau to arrive. The place was a quiet little spot on the outskirts of town, not flashy but comfortable. The kind of place where people didn’t ask too many questions, which worked perfectly for me.

I caught my reflection in the glass behind the bar—subtle makeup, a touch of vulnerability in my expression, nothing to hint at what I was really up to. It was all part of the game. I had done this a hundred times before. The thrill of deception, of being in control, made my blood hum with excitement.

Then the door swung open, and there he was. Even in the dim light, Beau Arlen commanded the room. He spotted me, his eyes lighting up with that easy-going smile. It hit me—he wasn’t just handsome. He had a presence. Something solid. Steady.

I hadn’t expected that.

“Y/N, right?” His voice was deep, with a Southern drawl that made my skin tingle. I smiled, standing up to meet him.

“That’s me. Beau, right?” I played it cool, though my heart was beating a little faster than usual. I chalked it up to the challenge ahead.

As the night went on, we talked and laughed, and I skillfully steered the conversation, dropping little hints, hoping he’d spill some intel about the sheriff’s department or something juicy I could sell to one of my mob contacts. But he didn’t take the bait.

Instead, he told me about growing up in Texas, his time in law enforcement, and how hard the divorce had been on him. How he hadn’t dated anyone seriously since the split. I was the first. The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, yet vulnerable, made something inside me twist. This wasn’t just another target. This was a good man, a man who had been hurt. A man who trusted me.

That’s when I felt the first crack in my carefully built walls.

One date turned into two. Then three. Each time, I told myself it was just part of the plan. I’d get the information I needed, make my move, and disappear before he ever realized who I really was. That’s how it always went. But every time I met up with Beau, something shifted.

I found myself laughing more. Enjoying his company. He was good. Not in the usual way I was used to, not someone trying to get something from me. He was just good. And damn it, that scared me.

The night we were supposed to go to a local diner, I had a plan. I'd go home with him and I’d dug around, found out where Beau kept his work laptop. All I had to do was slip away while he was distracted, clone his drive, and sell the sheriff’s department intel to the highest bidder.

Easy.

Except it wasn’t.

We sat in his truck after dinner, parked by a lake just outside the city, and he looked at me—really looked at me. Not like I was Y/N, the girl I pretended to be, but like he saw something deeper. Something real. His thumb brushed against my hand, and for a second, I forgot what I was supposed to be doing.

“You know, I didn’t expect this,” he said softly, his voice rumbling like distant thunder.

“Expect what?” I asked, my heart doing weird somersaults in my chest.

“To actually like you,” he said, turning to face me fully. “I mean, I thought you were pretty, sure, but this… it feels like more.”

My breath hitched. This wasn’t part of the plan. I wasn’t supposed to feel… anything. But I did.

I’d conned a hundred men before Beau. And not once had I ever felt guilty. Not once had I ever hesitated. But now, looking into his eyes, I knew I was in trouble.

“I don’t think you’re telling me everything,” he added, his voice soft but firm, like he knew something was off but wasn’t sure what.

My pulse raced. Did he know? Had he figured me out?

I could end it here. Lie. Run. Disappear like I always did. But then, he leaned closer, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, and I couldn’t do it. Not this time.

“Beau, I—” I stopped myself, words failing me for the first time in forever.

I pulled away just before his lips could touch mine.

“I—I’m sorry, Beau. I can’t.”

I scrambled out of the truck, my heart pounding, and started walking. I didn’t know where I was going, just that I had to get away. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let him in.

“Y/N!” Beau called after me, his voice tinged with confusion and worry. “Wait! What’s wrong?”

I kept walking, my breath coming in shallow bursts. I heard his footsteps behind me, getting closer until his hand caught my wrist, gently pulling me to a stop.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to spill everything, but I couldn’t. Instead, I surged forward and kissed him. Soft, quick, just a taste of what could’ve been. When I pulled back, Beau looked at me, eyes wide with confusion.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my throat tightening. “This isn’t working out.”

The hurt flashed in his eyes, but I didn’t wait for him to respond. I turned and walked away, each step feeling like I was ripping my own heart out.

By the time I got back to my apartment, I had made my decision. I couldn’t stay in Texas. Not with Beau here. If I did, I’d only end up hurting him worse. I packed my bags quickly, grabbing whatever I could fit, and disappeared into the night like I always did. No note, no goodbye. Just gone.

Five years.

It had been five years since I left Texas. Since I left Beau. I told myself it was for the best, that he deserved someone better. Someone real. I moved from city to city, pulling cons, making deals, and trying to forget the way he made me feel.

But I never did.

And now, here I was, back in Montana. The last place I ever thought I’d return to. The past, the one I’d tried to bury beneath years of schemes and lies, still haunted me in the form of a tall, rugged sheriff named Beau Arlen.

I thought of him more times than I cared to admit. His smile, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was someone worth knowing. Someone real. I was too much of a coward to look him up, to even think about reaching out. Instead, I did what I did best—hid behind the shadows. I checked his Facebook like some creep, scrolling through his life from the safety of a screen, always too afraid to hit that “Add Friend” button. He looked happy. He seemed like he’d moved on.

I told myself I had too. I built a flawless career as a private contractor, stealing, selling intel, playing my cards right with every dangerous figure I crossed. Everything was perfect.

--

Five years of dodging bullets and walking out of every con cleanly came to a crashing halt. I got caught. They found a trail leading back to me. Somehow, they connected me to an old case in this godforsaken town. I didn’t even remember the details anymore. I’d worked for a drug baron here once, years ago. A minor job. But I should have known better than to think I could outrun every ghost from my past.

The small, gray interrogation room smelled like stale coffee and disinfectant. I sat at the table, my hands cuffed in front of me, but I wasn’t worried. I’d been in tighter spots before, and I was always good at talking my way out. If I played this right, I could convince them I was just another innocent woman in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But what I wasn’t prepared for had just walked into the room.

The door swung open, and there he was. Beau.

Sheriff Beau Arlen.

The world seemed to stop as he stepped into the room, his broad frame filling the doorway. He was even more rugged than I remembered—his shoulders a little broader, his face a little more weathered, like the years had hardened him in ways I hadn’t expected. But his eyes—those sharp, piercing eyes—still had that same warmth I used to get lost in. Except now, there was something else there. Something colder. Something guarded.

I swallowed hard, my heart slamming against my ribcage as his gaze locked on me. For a second, I thought I saw recognition flash across his face, but he didn’t give anything away. He just stood there, towering over me, a shadow from my past I couldn’t ignore any longer.

"Well," he said slowly, his voice low and steady, "this is a surprise."

I forced a smile, my brain scrambling for something to say, something that would make this less awkward, less… devastating.

“Beau,” I breathed, the sound of his name on my lips feeling both familiar and foreign. “Sheriff in Montana now, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah. A lot’s changed since you ran out on me.”

I flinched at the reminder, feeling the weight of my past mistakes crashing down on me. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. I wasn’t prepared for this. I wasn’t prepared for him.

Beau pushed off the wall and walked slowly toward the table, his eyes never leaving mine. “You were always good at disappearing, Y/N. But I gotta say, I didn’t expect you to turn up in my town again. And especially not like this.”

I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped me. “Trust me, neither did I.”

He sat down across from me, his expression unreadable. The tension between us was thick, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on both of us. I wanted to explain, to tell him why I left, but the words stuck in my throat. What could I say? That I was scared? That I wasn’t good enough for him?

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Are you gonna tell me what you’ve been up to these last few years? Or do I have to guess?” He motioned the map in front of him.

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. The old me—the con artist—was good at staying cool under pressure. But sitting here, across from Beau, my past and present crashing together, I felt completely exposed.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said, forcing a smirk I didn’t feel.

His gaze hardened slightly. “Try me.”

I leaned back in my chair, trying to regain some control. “It’s not what it looks like. I wasn’t involved in that mess you claim. Yeah, I worked for a guy who… let’s just say he wasn’t exactly on the right side of the law. But that was a long time ago.”

Beau didn’t say anything, just watched me with those intense eyes, waiting for more. I could feel him seeing through every half-truth, every lie I was about to tell.

“Look,” I sighed, “I’m good at what I do. Too good, apparently. But I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t expect to get dragged into some old case. It’s a misunderstanding.”

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And what should I believe, Y/N? The woman who ran out on me without a word? Or the con artist who’s sitting in front of me now?”

My breath caught in my throat, his words cutting deeper than I’d expected. He knew. He’d known all along what I was. And I’d left him to deal with the pieces.

“I never meant to hurt you,” I said softly, my voice cracking.

Beau’s jaw clenched, the tension rolling off him in waves. “Anyway.”

The silence between us stretched on, heavy and suffocating. I didn’t know what to say. For once, I had no plan, no angle. It was just me and him, with all the lies I’d told hanging between us.

Finally, Beau stood up, his expression unreadable. “You’ll have your chance to explain everything in court. Until then, you’re staying here.”

He turned to leave, but just before he walked out the door, he stopped and glanced back at me, his eyes softer, almost sad.

“Five years, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I waited for you to come back. But I guess I never thought it would be like this.”

And just like that, he was gone. The door closed behind him with a finality that echoed through the empty room.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the cold, metal table in front of me. I had been prepared to face the law, the consequences of my actions.

But I wasn’t prepared to face Beau.

--

After hours of being questioned and trying to maintain my calm facade, they finally led me to a cell for the night. The cold metal bars and uncomfortable cot were a far cry from the life I’d gotten used to. But it wasn’t the first time I found myself behind bars—though, this time, the stakes felt higher. This time, it wasn’t just a con gone wrong or a deal gone sideways. This time, it was Beau.

The weight of the past—the lies, the broken promises—pressed on my chest as I lay on the thin mattress, staring at the ceiling. I replayed the moment he walked into that interrogation room over and over in my mind. The look in his eyes, the way he had spoken to me like I was both a stranger and someone he knew too well. Five years, and it felt like no time had passed. I hated that I still cared. I hated that he still had that effect on me.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but the memories wouldn’t let me rest. What could have been. What I’d lost.

By morning, I was exhausted, but I wasn’t surprised when Beau showed up again. This time, though, there was something different in his demeanor. Less tension, more determination.

He stepped into the cell block, arms crossed as he leaned against the bars. “You look like hell,” he said, though there was a flicker of something softer in his tone.

“Thanks, Sheriff,” I muttered, pushing myself up to sit on the edge of the cot. “It’s not exactly the Four Seasons in here.”

He didn’t smile. His eyes, clear and unreadable, stayed locked on mine as he walked over and unlocked the door.

“We need to talk,” Beau said, his voice low, all business. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “A proposition? Let me guess, you’re about to offer me a way out of here if I spill some dirt?”

He shrugged, leaning against the wall with that infuriating calm of his. “Something like that. Here’s the deal: you work with us on this case, become an informant, and help us bring down the drug ring you were involved with years ago. In return, I’ll see what I can do about your punishment.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. “What do you have on me, Beau? Because I don’t think you’re offering this out of the kindness of your heart.”

For a moment, his expression hardened, but then he sighed. “Right now? We’ve only got this case—the drug operation from a few years back. We can link you to some old players, but nothing major... Yet.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in.

“But I’m good at digging, Y/N. If I want to, I’ll find more. I know now how you operate. You’ve left a trail, and it’s only a matter of time before I catch up to it.”

My stomach tightened. He wasn’t bluffing, and I knew it. I’d done a lot of things over the years, and if Beau really wanted to bring me down, he could. He’d find enough to keep me locked up for a long time.

“So, what?” I asked, leaning back against the wall and crossing my arms. “You want me to turn informant, feed you intel on the people I worked with, and in exchange, you’ll make sure I don’t rot in here for the rest of my life?”

“Pretty much.” His voice was even, controlled. “You help us, and I’ll do what I can to make sure you walk away from this with as little damage as possible.”

I stared at him, trying to gauge if this was a trick, but I knew Beau well enough to know he didn’t play games like I did. He was giving me a chance—a real one. Maybe the only one I’d get.

I looked down at my hands, the cuffs no longer around my wrists but the weight of the offer felt just as binding. Was this the way out? The part of me that had always survived by running wanted to take the deal, to keep my head above water and stay one step ahead of the law. But there was another part of me, the one that had started to unravel the moment Beau walked into that interrogation room, that wondered if I was finally done running.

“Fine,” I said after a long silence, my voice steady. “I’ll do it. I’ll work with you. But I want to know what I’m dealing with here. How much danger am I in?”

Beau’s lips pressed into a thin line. “The drug baron you worked for, Declan King, is still a player. He’s gone underground, but his network is vast, and we’ve been after him for years. You’ve got connections. You’ve got intel. That’s why we need you.” He paused, his eyes darkening slightly.

“But make no mistake, Y/N—if King or his people find out you’re working with us, you’ll be in more danger than just sitting in this cell.”

I swallowed, nodding. I knew what I was getting into. Hell, I’d danced with danger my whole life. This was just another step in the same game.

“Alright, Sheriff,” I said, standing up and meeting his gaze. “I’m in. I’ll help you take down King.”

Beau didn’t move for a moment, just stared at me like he was trying to figure out if I was bluffing. But then he nodded once, curtly. “Good. You’ll start today. We’ll set up a safe line of communication, and you’ll feed us whatever you know. But don’t think for a second this is going to be easy. One misstep, and this deal’s off.”

I forced a smile, though my heart was pounding in my chest. “Don’t worry. I don’t make missteps.”

His eyes flickered with something—something I couldn’t quite read—but he turned to leave, pausing just before stepping out of the cell.

“And, Y/N?” he said, his voice soft but laced with warning. “This isn’t just about you getting out of trouble. I expect you to come through on this. Don’t make me regret giving you this chance.”

The door shut behind him, and I was left alone in the cell, the reality of the deal sinking in. I had agreed to work with the law—to work with Beau—and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing or setting myself up for a fall.

But one thing was certain: there was no turning back now.

--

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[eldritch-spouse]

[Part 7 of Gifted. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Sit still and wait to seduce the angel (65.2%)

TW: Implied mind break; Character gore

New choice! [VOTE]

Now alone, you take a moment to better study the room around you.

It looks basic, that much you had appraised earlier. No windows whatsoever, a black carpet, dark walls, the purple bed sheets you sit on, pink pillows, a small armchair, and an even less remarkable vanity in the corner.

There are paintings on the walls, but you can't quite tell what they're meant to be. Who made those? It's as if someone who had no concept of reality tried to illustrate very specific images, failing miserably, creating a chaotic blend of colors and shapes that definitely resembles something you might have seen before, but twisted enough that you can't put your finger on it. If ever there was a prime example of the eeriness of the uncanny valley, this would be it.

The more you stare at the three paintings above the bed on the wall, the more you're filled with a sense of dread. It's wrong, it's all so wrong.

Fuck, you hate this place.

A fearful voice within the walls of your cranium screeches that if you dare search the corners of this room alone, the ground will grow teeth to bite you with, the walls will pull you in to a slow, suffocating death and the furniture will snap your limbs off. Oh, you wouldn't put it past this inexplicably horrid building to do any of that- No matter how ridiculous a thought that would have been to you not even a day ago.

From the moment you opened your eyes and were graced with moving flowers, it became clear nothing could be taken for granted, not even the most simple of truths. And you really, really don't want to have your sanity challenged any more by scouring this dark little motel-like room.

It seems you'll have to rely solely on that angel to break this stalemate.

What an odd sort.

That staff he carries on his back is trouble. You remember the way he shoved it so close to the gargoyle's throat. He was confident... As if it could pierce through the incredible density of the blue monster. Might as well play it safe and assume that it really is capable of cutting through Pebble like cheese. It's going to be a little risky to push his buttons when he's got that thing at arm's reach.

But then again, he's apparently easily flustered. There's no doubt about it, from stuttering as he tried to pull you off the other monster, to chiding you for vulgar language and reacting with guilty denial the moment you pointed out his hardness. It wouldn't be too hard to get under his skin and coax something out of him, you just have to take care not to irritate.

He said he'd be back...

What are you going to do then? Lay down and invite him to bed? Psh, as if he'd respond. Either he'd chastise you or flee, most likely. Perhaps he needs to feel more in control, needs you to act casual about it- Giving the angel a taste of something he considers "vulgar" without forcing him to acknowledge it. If it works, you could probably lure him into taking you outside again, some way or another. Though, thinking back on the crowd of people that gathered in the garden since you woke up on that bench... Is that actually a good idea? Debatable.

One way or another, you need his favor.

Yes, perhaps playing along with his demands might be smarter in the long run. Rising from the bed, you look for a second door, one that should lead to a bathroom, just like the one in the incubus' room. And yet... Nothing's there. Just the wall, staring back at you. This must have been the most low quality room he could have gotten. Then again, he likely wasn't concerned with your comfort.

You glance at the spot where the door would be just one more time, to be sure, to hope and pray that a miracle doorway had been summoned in that brief pause by sheer will, that this haunted playground had been merciful for once- Still nothing. Riveting.

That means you'll have to freshen up as best as you can in in this sorry state, with no water to help straighten your hair and clean the gargoyle seed still occasionally sliding past your entrance. Frankly, you think as you straighten the dress, the odds aren't looking good right now.

Thinking about it, all you've accomplished thus far has been getting fucked and tossed around between strange monsters. Every single time it seems as if you're walking in the right direction, some cruel force throws you back several steps, laughing at you, making you enjoy it. You feel awful. Which is obvious, naturally, but it's starting to wear you down. Or maybe it's the adrenaline leaving your system now that you're not in immediate danger or dealing with yet another monster.

You know it's over if you let that despair take over. The key to getting out is to keep up momentum. Stay strong, focus. There's no time to cry.

... Where is he anyway?

It's been a while. Maybe he's jerking off in a dimly lit corner, seething that you noticed his erection at all. Damn it, if he comes back to you having relieved himself, it's going to make things much harder.

In the eerie silence of the untouched room, it would be difficult to miss those approaching footsteps. Firm, rhythmic, like a footsoldier. Him.

You spring to action, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the front door. Spine straight, legs pressed together and hands on your lap, a neutral look on a tired complexion. There's only time for one rattled sigh before the door is pushed open, and in he steps. The angel. With what looks to be a mildly damp towel.

Immediately, all three eyes narrow at you.

In hindsight, it's not too hard to guess why. Everything is exactly as it was when he left, but you sit in a position that totally reads as suspicious. You are scheming something, and it shows. Bare legs sway over the edge of the bed, waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe you can sell something here.

" You are... More obedient than I expected. " He murmurs, probably to himself.

Hues bounce every over every shape of his furred figure, searching, searching- Ah, there it is! Oh, he's not full-mast anymore, but there's definitely something still interested in his weird outfit. You can work with that.

Quickly, your eyes flicker back to the winged one's face. " Well... I've been thinking, aren't you an angel? "

He hasn't moved since stepping inside. That double-axed staff is still attached to his form. Careful.

" Celestial would be the more correct term. Though I suppose, yes. Why? " The towel is folded for now. You have a hard time conceiving the thought that an angel would readily work here, amongst demons. It contradicts everything you've ever been told about these creatures- But then again, his mere sight is one huge, confusing contradiction.

" Then you're the one I should be listening to. Angels are supposed to be respected, after all. " Buy it, oh my God please just buy it, you're pulling this out of your ass on the spot, it better work.

The other sighs, eyes rolling. " And you came to that conclusion now? "

Yeah, he was there when you got brought to the whole gang, wasn't he? Hm.

" W- Well- I was scared and confused then, I- I know better now. " Do you though?

" So you claim you've come to your senses? " The angel pushes.

There's a shrug, your eyes leave his intense lavender pools for a few seconds, afraid they'll burn you to a crisp. You are being judged.

" Perhaps, mister... " It's your turn to squint, not even having a name to call him.

" Belo. " He nods, moving towards you.

A secret smile dances on your lips. " I see. Thank you for your mercy, Belo. "

The angel blinks a couple of times. You're not sure what gave him pause, it could have been the sound of his name on your tongue, the false sincerity in your tone, or the mention of mercy. It was a lapse in demeanor regardless, one you're all too keen to take advantage of.

" Were it not for you, I'd probably still be on that roof. " In a calculated move, your gaze drops to your lap sadly, fingers interweaving. " Maybe the other gargoyles would have gotten to me. Or I could have fallen into the hands of dangerous perverts. "

A pang of guilt flashes on his gaze. Brief, but not brief enough to miss.

Obviously, he didn't pluck you from the roof out of the goodness of his heart, that's ludicrous. It worked however, you want him to stew in his own guilt, if he's even capable of feeling that much of it.

" ... You're welcome. " Belo replies, though none of his eyes meet yours for a second. The worker recovers quickly. " P- Part your legs, please. "

This might be a lot easier than you expected. Hah.

" But why? " You feign ignorance, and a bit of discomfort, causing the other one to stammer and hesitate further.

" Well I- You need to be minimally presentable. " He very subtly shrugs, as if to say 'what do you want me to do?'

" But Belo I- I've been touched there by such brutes. I don't want to be hurt anymore. "

As if. You sooner kill a man to admit out loud that the sex you've had here was mostly enjoyable, even if you'd rather it have taken place under literally any other circumstances. Nevertheless, you committed to the bit, now you have to sell it, so you shield your sex through your dress, bottom lip wobbling. Crying on command is hard, you hope you won't have to rely on it.

The angel's authoritative demeanor wanes further, he seems to be appraising you with genuine pity, getting second thoughts perhaps. " I promise my intent isn't lecherous, but I do have to clean... " Big eyes spazz again, looking every which way, the words tight in his throat. " You are dirty. " Belo settles for, taking a step forward with newfound resolve.

The slight whimper you let out has him slowing down briefly, before coming to a squat before you. One lightly furred hand rests on your knee. " I'll be gentle and quick. "

" I trust you then. " You reply after a thought-out pause, masking the growing mirth within you as soon as you spread your legs to the angel, fully.

He's given a positively nasty view.

Not that much time has passed since you were folded beneath the stone monster, and your body still shows signs of being highly sensitive. From the flushing of your cunt, to a still peeking clit and, of course, the obscene cream-colored fluid you have no choice but to drip. Remnants of arousal still pulse within you at the sensation of your own warmth and wetness, finding a depraved sense of joy from how full of cum you have been throughout this entire day.

Maybe you should add him to the tally.

No. The longer you stay here, the less straight you think.

Belo looks absolutely enraptured by the sight before him, spare hand tight on the towel as you sit there, dress hiked up for his access. The monster man doesn't move for a long pause wherein you can see two pupils dilate slightly, the fluff on his chest pushing against that black outfit.

It's odd. You won't question why he's reacting to the sight of you this way when most of his coworkers seem vastly desensitized. You could be wrong, but perhaps he's relatively new to this place? That would make manipulating your way into a better position easier, but then, his conviction in this Admin person, in this lord he keeps speaking of- Being new here doesn't exactly mean he isn't already washed into a certain way of thinking.

Apparently, the two of you have spaced out at the same time.

Though, as you consider calling out to him, Belo shakes himself off the trance and finally gets to work.

Exactly as promised, those pale hands are nothing but gentle when they drag their way up from your inner thighs. And, in all honesty, you'd be lying to say it doesn't feel nice. Because it does. It's an attentive type of aftercare, even if the angel wasn't the one who plunged into you, or even remotely emotionally attached to you for that matter. For a moment, seduction games and thoughts of escape fade into the back of your mind, becoming static noise to the sweet sensation of humid cotton on skin.

Your eyes close, a deep sigh relieving some modicum of stress. Until Belo finally has the guts to touch you where it counts.

The moment you glance down, you find his eyes fixed on your face, although they quickly redirect to the spot between your legs. His grip is shaky at best, collecting the beads of spent as they show themselves and turning the towel around so he can smooth it over your womanhood. A nudge too close to your button is all that's needed for your leg to twitch and a noise to escape.

" P- Pardon. " Belo instantly excuses.

Although, he doesn't stop.

In fact, a minute or so of this light treatment passes before you start growing suspicious of his motives. I'll be quick, he said, and yet here he is, petting your pussy like a timid boy that's been shown a pair of tits and doesn't quite know what to do with them.

What is he hoping to achieve really? You think for a second, trying to keep a straight face. Does he just want an opportunity to caress a woman's privates? Is he hoping that you'll make a sound? When the angel begins edging the towel up repeatedly, never failing to gently bump your now interested clit, you realize it's definitely the latter. This dirty little bastard wants you to make some noise. It turns him on. Perfect, you need him to be horny for this.

" Belo. " Your hips shift forward the next time he combs over your pussy.

" Ah- ... Yes? "

You're not sure if it's sweat, but something's definitely running down the side of his face.

" Please, don't touch me there so much. It makes me... " Staring away, you feign deep shame.

He gets the picture, eating up the act you feed him without doubt- Or, who knows, he could be onto you yet still enjoy the pretend game.

" Oh dear. " The angel murmurs. " Then perhaps we should leave it as is. "

When Belo gets up, probably about to flee again, the fucking loser, you grab onto the edge of his coat. Cape? Whatever it is. " Stay. I should thank you for being so soft with me. " You plead when he faces you over his shoulder.

Those head wings flutter nervously. " I don't- I can't. I can't waste time here, I have to- "

" I'll be quick. " The corners of your lips quirk up, the tiniest hint of mischief present.

Belo spares a glimpse at the door, then back to your figure. There's a second where he looks ahead fully, and it's crystal clear he just lost the battle with his sense of duty.

" Alright... " The angel faces your seated frame again. " I suppose a moment longer won't hurt. "

He's consistently avoiding eye contact, and now you can be sure why. He got hard again, probably just from touching you through that towel, the shape of it straining against his suit. Oh for sure, he's hot under the collar enough for you to drop this silly charade. Grabbing the pale one by the holes on the sides of his "pants", you pull him forward rather forcefully, planting a kiss to his hidden erection.

Belo squawks, entire form tensing as his wings spread a good bit. He huffs and grabs the side of your head with both hands to keep it still. It's not an uncomfortable hold, thankfully.

" J- Just what- What in Eden do you think you're doing?! "

You don't answer the startled monster right away, blinking up at him innocently, then moving to place more chaste pecks along the length of his hard-on, nuzzling against it like the debauched voice that's been leering in the back of your mind all this time beckons you to do.

" Thanking you. " Simple.

" Lesser, with all d- due respect- " His next words melt into a desperate little " Uhn- " when you reach to kiss the tip of it.

Flattish head. Workable shape. No knot, thank goodness.

He doesn't seem like he knows what to say right now, torn between putting a stop to things and letting it all happen. The trick is, of course, not letting Belo think for too long. Nimble fingers search for a zipper on the angel's suit, finding nothing. Worried, you stroke the monster through the feather-patterned black fabric, poking and pinching at the front of his suit until -Ah, so here they are- You find nearly imperceptible buttons. It's a breeze from there on, fast motions undoing his outfit while the angel sputters and tenses.

" You- Good lord, you don't have to... " He pipes up when his member is freed. " We shouldn't. This is getting out of hand. " The desire to roll your eyes is overwhelming.

Is it weird to say his dick is pretty? Because it is.

It reminds you of Grimbly's, in a way. Smooth, a tapered sort of head, definitely proportionate to his size. Its pallid pink coloration, only ever getting darker at the root, makes him look soft and inviting. His arousal beads steadily, and you have no qualms taking Belo into your hands.

" Human... "

You'd rather he call you literally anything else, to be honest.

Right, so, you ponder while slowly working him up, the plan here is to either exhaust him, or at the very least catch him off-guard enough to leave. After all, you didn't hear him lock the door again when he came in. If you can make a dash into that elevator, then you can split from him and try to race somewhere. Not an ideal strategy, or a bright one for that matter, but you'll have to make do. There's an even smaller chance that the angel will feel merciful enough to lead you out, but you'd be an idiot to trust such a hopeless possibility.

Ah fuck it, one step at a time, you don't have time to mull on the finer details.

Focusing on the present, you plant several kisses along the length of the angel's cock. Not giving him time to stutter out any useless exclamations and letting a small tongue explore him from top to bottom. His legs shake visibly, even the fingers previously static on the sides of your head now tremble faintly, Belo seems flustered by his own reactions.

" You don't get treated well enough, do you? " Your smile is sweet superficially, but you wouldn't blame it if he took your words as an insult.

Although Belo seems to be far away right now, all three eyes lidding as he stares down at you, fixated on the movements of your lips more than the meaning behind them. It's ridiculous how quickly he's getting undone, and, curiously, you note that his large wings are closing in around you- As if to shield the world from the disgusting act being performed.

Even if you'd like to draw things out, time is against you here. Every second that passes is a bead forever lost to the hourglass of your survival- You're sinking in quicksand. It's with that urgency in the forefront of your mind that your lips wrap lewdly around Belo's pink girth and take it as far as possible without gagging.

" Hha- Ohhn m-mercy my lord...! "

His taste is nothing to write home about, but his noises? The finest of melodies. The angel's voice already had a melodic undertone to it, now it really is as if he's singing for you. Horny little hums becoming full-throated moans while he pleads this lord entity for forgiveness. Somehow, you doubt he's referring to any sort of god you know. Part of you wants to taunt him that there's no god involved in your oral skill, but his little cries are too amusing to halt.

" Mmn- I'm bad, I'm going to be punished for this... " Belo laments, even as the fingers holding your head subtly encourage you to bob on his cock faster, hips tilting ever so slightly forward. " I- It's all because of you. Filthy- Ah- Lecherous woman- My lord those lips ohn... "

You're not even trying that hard. Though his theatrics are a little flattering.

The next time he rocks into your motions, he gets greedy, causing you to choke around the base of his shaft, messily drooling as you gag. The sight isn't pretty, and you assumed the prissy angel would get turned off, yet instead, he throbs in your mouth. Hah, the puritan is a sexually repressed pervert- Who could have seen that coming?

Belo sheds self-control and dignity for every second that you suck him stupid, and his righteous mask falls entirely.

" Hharder... " He whispers, voice so broken you actually shiver, heating like a furnace. " Harder harder please- Mm faster, you feel so good! "

Who are you to deny an angel's beautiful begging?

Motions speeding, you make it a point to moan around him, the thrill of his wanton calls making your loins boil alive. He's such a slut in heat, you'd delight in bullying this one to his knees. The desire to make him come takes center stage and the sloppy noises of your work fill the room, the fur around his slit soaking with drool and precum by now.

" Fffuh yes -Oh I'll pay, I'll pay for this- Keep going keep going please I'm so- "

" So what, Belo? "

The room drops several degrees in temperature. It's a miracle you didn't bite Belo's cock in fright.

He rips himself from your mouth, quickly using both hands and wings to shield himself while he steps away from your figure- Effectively leaving you to clean your face hurriedly before you spot the new figure who has walked in silently.

It's a woman.

Not just any woman. A human. Like you.

For a long, pregnant pause, you think you're hallucinating. Giving a blowjob to an angel was a terrible decision and his fluids have induced hallucinations in your mind. You're high. You're tripping. There can't be another human in this cesspit. Or rather- There can't be an untouched human in this home of horrors.

The person in front of you looks very well groomed. Her hair is straight and short, a brunette hue matching the irises on calm, watchful eyes. This petite smile sits on an otherwise pale, perfectly polite face. Tones of purple adorn a somewhat intricate dress-uniform, topped by a small hat with a logo you've come to recognize here, fishnets, and heavy-looking boots. She holds an air of importance and passive authority, something that compels you to never take your eyes off her, to listen, to behave.

There's no doubt in your mind this woman is not a poor lost soul like you. She holds power here, this is not a friend or a savior come to your aid by any stretch of the imagination. Be on your toes. Belo's reaction to her appearance doesn't help either.

" My- Lady Admin, it's not- " He fumbles, searching for an excuse he knows he can't make up on the spot. She gives him a placid glance. " W- We- I- "

" You're hopeless, Belo. That's what you are. " She completes. The door to the room slams shut behind her seemingly on its own, causing the two of you to jump.

Admin.

So it's her. All this time, he was talking about her. Fear claws at your throat the longer you stare at this peculiar woman. Outwardly, there's nothing off with her, but her mere presence is so oppressing that you fail to fetch any words. It's as if something hides behind her eyes, speaks from inside her mouth, listens through her ears. Her body language is imperceptible, revealing nothing but her awareness of others' intentions. You don't know what you're dealing with, she scares you more than any monster ever could and you can't place why.

Belo prostrates himself before the smaller female figure, head glued to the ground as he shakes in trepidation. " My lady, I failed you! I'm an impulsive beast and I disappointed those above me. It will never happen again- I promise! I swear on my vows! Please punish the lord's servant as you see fit. "

Fixated on the angel's pathetic beseeching, you only notice Admin's gaze is trailing you a touch too late. She cages you in place without words, studying, deliberating. Her brows rise slowly, as if she had just heard something surprising, certainly not whatever mindless babbling her subordinate is spewing gratuitously. Finally, after a small eternity, she veers towards Belo, a delicate gloved hand grabbing the halo protrusion on the back of his head and yanking it up so she can stare down at shrunken inhuman pupils.

" We can arrange that later, you animal. " She spits, voice distorting towards the end in a manner that nearly stops your heart and makes him whimper. " Get up. "

He instantly springs to a stand. " Yes, lady. "

The woman pries his wings off his front, met with only minor resistance, as a warning glance is all that's needed for the angel to bare himself, a neglected shaft bobbing under her gaze.

" You. " She calls while leading Belo forward by the wrist, back to his previous spot in front of you. " Finish this. "

" M- Me? " You stammer, quickly facing Belo's cock again.

The brunette works fast, looping a purple groove around his length and quickly pumping the angel. She does it casually, but in a practiced manner, as if this is common place around here. Which, honestly, you don't know what to expect anymore. The puzzled glance you spare at Belo is not returned, his three eyes glazing again as he simply subjects himself to whatever she wants without complaint.

" Yes, you. " Admin arches a brow. " You've aroused him, now fix your mess, I need him functional for the rest of the night. "

This is getting so weird on so many levels.

When all you do is blink and attempt to stutter out questions, her calm demeanor cracks and she swiftly takes matters into her own hand.

Actually, to be more accurate, she takes your hair into her hands and forces you onto the angel's cock. You yelp at the pain, getting bobbed condescendingly onto Belo's length a couple of times before you start doing it on your own, tear tracks sliding down your face from the pain of her ruthless grip. Did you just feel clawtips on the back of your head?

Belo moans out again. The grip on your hair recedes.

" There. Make him come, I don't have all day. "

Yes ma'am...

Because what else are you going to do, now that your plan went to hot shit? With her around, it's essentially game over, isn't it? You needed to have escaped this room before she arrived, perhaps attempting to seduce the angel was only a detrimental waste of time.

She observes you work, entirely unfazed by the gross noises taking over the room. The sensation of judgement weighs heavily on your shoulders, her piercing gaze leaving you no room to slack off or make mistakes. In fact, fear makes you work faster, until Belo is twitching in your mouth.

" Tongue. " She demands, a hint of a smile on her face.

Looping over the head of his member every now and then, you get to see Admin shove two digits in her own mouth, then drop them to Belo's slit, slightly disturbing your pace before slipping them under the base of his cock to pump mercilessly.

" A- AH! Lady-! "

The pale monster shouts his sudden pleasure, fur ruffling and pupils dilating. His head curves back slightly, the woman behind him not missing a beat when she bites down on a tender spot of his wings. What a sight, you think to yourself, mildly distressed by your enjoyment of the scene. You had never been that much of a voyeur, but this is... Different.

Belo's hips are then harshly pushed forward. You choke and sputter disgracefully, too distraught to hear the start of his mellifluous cry before you sense ropes of hot cum coating your throat. There's no choice but to swallow, or else you'll only choke further.

He's pulled off you before his peak is finished, left to tremble and stain himself in pearly white strings, his punishment so far being a mildly ruined orgasm. You're not holding up much better, coughing some of his spent back out in your effort to breathe clearly. The two of you are a disgraceful mess, his face burns as hot as yours.

" Scram now, you desperate sod. " She says, after a drawn out beat of silence, possibly only to let the shame sink in.

The angel hurries to shove himself into his suit, buttoning it back up and murmuring rushed apologies before speed-walking away with his head down like a beaten mutt. The door opens for him, closing softly once the monster is out of sight.

That leaves you and her, Admin, the person he wanted to take you to since the start of all this madness. You have no idea what to expect, and it must show clearly, though she only stands wordlessly, opening a shelf in the bedside table and retrieving spare wipes to clean her stained glove.

" ... You're a human. " It slips out, you quickly regret it.

" Some people have stopped seeing me that way. " She cocks he head for a second, tossing the used wipes onto the table.

" How did- How did you survive in here? " It's a confused whisper. She not only survived but acquired some mysterious form of authority over these depraved monsters. They revere her, or at least the angel clearly does.

Admin turns, offering an almost pitying expression, then sits on the edge of the bed, far from you, her legs crossed. The woman is suddenly static like a doll, facing the wall rather than you.

" I'm responsible for the flow of this building. I saw its birth and I will live to see its fall. As my worship's vessel, it'd be worrying if I wasn't respected, no? " She has a certain humorous drawl now, but there's nothing funny about it to you.

So she's in charge, for lack of finer wording. You're more worried about the repeated mention of this lord figure, this "worship", whoever they may be. What was it Belo said, when he had found you and Pebble on the roof? Kulu? Vurlu?

" Krulu? "

Chestnut eyes fix you from the corner of her vision. She sits straighter. " So you've been told? Do you know of our lord? "

" No... I heard someone say it. "

She deflates almost imperceptibly. " I see. Address him formally. " It's a warning, not a suggestion. " Clean yourself as best as you can. Strip. You will be taken to him for evaluation. " Admin tosses the rest of the wet wipes package your way. It falls flat on your lap.

You don't move to grab it.

Not at all. Your heart is hammering in your skull, the sound of that is horrendous. It feels as if you're glancing at the end of the rope, your hourglass is running out of sand, the ride is slowing down as its end approaches. On this foreign bed, with this borrowed dress, next to a stranger- You realize your fate is sealed.

And the desire to cry takes you over.

She doesn't need to look at you to understand you're sobbing faintly.

" B- But- I don't want to die! " You blubber. You got so far, after all. It's anything but fair.

" What you want is irrelevant to me. " The brunette states, expression molding into an air of boredom. " You will be presented to my lord. Clean yourself if you'd like better chances. I cannot and will not guarantee anything. "

You consider making a scene.

A proper scene. Screaming and raving and throwing shit around until she's forced to kill you herself -You don't doubt she can- Or getting on your knees and begging with every breath you can draw. But Admin doesn't seem like the type to fall into schemes, to be blinded by flattery or moved by pity. She's a stone wall, your emotions truly are meaningless here.

It's funny that, out of all the monsters you've met here thus far, she's the most inhuman one of them all.

Yes, there's no use getting on her nerves.

Eventually taking the wipes, you clean Belo's stray cum off your skin, dabbing at any dubious spots on the pink dress. Digits comb over your own hair, attempting to fix it even if you know the effort is fruitless. So this is it. This is the end all be all of tonight.

You could die.

You might die.

It all depends on this "lord".

When you look at Admin, she's glancing back at you expectantly, fingers steepled. A moment passes.

" I said strip. "

Oh. You forgot that.

Hesitation claws at you. But then, you've been through so much already, is there any point in being self-conscious around yet another heathen in this place, a human on top of that? Fuck it, you're sure she'll just force you if you don't do it fast enough.

There's a nod when you begin moving, silent approval of your unspoken logic.

The light cloth is easily removed, and just as you expected, the brunette has no comment ready. She blinks, appraises you some more, then gets up, moving towards the door.

" Come. " Admin beckons.

Her neutral complexion quickly sours into a frown when you stay put, bare and uncomfortable.

" E... Evaluation? " You pry, hopeful that it's not something deadly which you're about to be subjected to.

" Yes. "

Another silent beat passes. For fuck's sake, she's just infuriating, isn't she? If you weren't so intimidated, you'd let her know.

" ... And what does that entail? "

The woman rolls her eyes. " I prefer to let Master Krulu do the talking. " The door parts before her. " I won't have to drag you, will I? "

No, you've been subjected to enough shame for a lifetime today.

Covering your breasts and nethers, you grimace after the other human, grateful there don't seem to be monsters roaming the long hall of doors. Admin requests the elevator, and it arrives within a few short moments.

However, much to your growing misery, it's not vacant. A single furred, bulky monster is inside it.

Although you pale like a sheet of paper, you're pulled inside by the arm, made to stand placidly beside Admin while the doors close and she presses the button beneath the last endless row.

How can she feel safe right now? You get that she's apparently a big shot here, but how come she thinks monsters will leave her alone?! This woman is ten times more insane than you initially judged her to be.

The leering thing in front of you, all beady eyes and far too many teeth, licks its filthy chops, boring holes into the two of you. The brunette is utterly unfazed, posture impeccable, confidence clear. You, on the other hand, are cowering like a corralled rabbit.

Maybe that's why he opts to reach for you first. Easy prey.

Fear glistens in wet eyes when a clawed hand lifts, he leans forward, entirely focused on you specifically. You're about to shout for Admin, to ask her if this is part of her plan, if she's blind, if she won't help-

But then there's a sickening

Crunch

And his fingers peel open. Like apple shavings, the flesh, skin, ligaments and blood vessels peeling off bone in a gored mess that has your stomach doing cartwheels. He doesn't scream, he chokes on his own cries and heaves dryly, watching the events unfolding with as much terror as you. Nothing prepares you for the blood-curdling shriek the monster emits when his arm breaks, shards of crushed bone jutting this way and that while his limb contorts into positions it was never meant to take. As blood pools steadily on the elevator ground, he hurls his dinner onto his own shirt from the pain and appears to pass out from shock. Whatever force held his arm in place vanishes, and that large body splashes onto the small river of blood it made, droplets flying everywhere.

The walls, the buttons, Admin, you.

You'd rather be coated in ten loads of cum than this, shaking in trepidation that the same thing will be done to your appendages at any moment.

Admin is ever passive by your side, chestnut hues cast curiously to the mildly deformed figure. Did she do that? To help you? It's probably not the case, but in the off chance you're correct, being polite may keep you alive for longer.

" T- Thank you, miss. " Your voice is much quieter than you were expecting.

The woman smiles. " That wasn't me. "

Oh okay. Sure. Don't think about it.

The sensation of sinking feels ever intense while the elevator takes its sweet time reaching the destined floor. You know this place is massive, you know it can't possibly adhere to the laws of reality- But it feels like you're drifting infinitely into unknown depths. Like it'll stop at the Earth's core and boil you alive.

It steals the breath out of your lungs, makes you acquire an exotic breed of claustrophobia. Can it even go back up after all this height? What if you're stuck down there forever now? What if it never works again? What if it fucking jams midway through and you die here- In nowhere land, deeper than any corpse ought to be buried. What if-

Ding

Oh. Nevermind? Yes, let's shelve that panic for the several breakdowns you'll have at some point, if you live through this.

When the elevator doors part, you kind of wish the thing did get stranded on the way down.

A creeping darkness slithers its way into the golden walls of the elevator, as if about to drag it into itself, like a black hole. You can't explain why, you've never been that bothered by the dark, but this one is suffocating. You know something looms there, can feel it in the heaviness the air sports, whatever's here takes up every inch of space, stealing the oxygen for itself, clouding the surroundings.

You don't want to step in. You fear for your eyes. You fear that this blackness is so thick it'll never fade from your vision, blinding you in perpetual terror. You look into that sinking gloom and the world twists at the edges, flickering and distorting.

You hate it. You hate this all. You want to go back up. You're not supposed to be here, this is not for you, you need to go you need to-

A candle flickers into a burst of sickening wisteria flames.

Your startled screech echoes back to you even louder, painting your cheeks in shame. Admin blinks at you with a slight air of parody.

A lulling smoke barely cuts through the darkness, you can make out a smooth, glass-like floor. Ah, so it's not a bottomless pit after all. Good, at least that, your depressed mind cheers.

The brunette slips into the darkness like it's her home, disappearing from perception entirely until the candle is lifted, the thing barely illuminating her figure while she walks back towards you. Was that a grin on her face? For the briefest of seconds, you could have sworn her teeth glistened...

" Come. " She repeats, stepping just barely into the elevator, expectant.

Not a single muscle in you moves. It's childish, foolish, pointless, but you look pleadingly at her. As if the woman that orchestrates this place, the person making sure the cycle of depravity never ceases, the one who's seen this building's rise, would have a sudden change of heart and whisk you away to safety.

No, there's not even the barest hint of sympathy there. She isn't seeing a person in front of her. Only a part of a goal. An element in a task. An asset to take from point A to point B. You are no more complex to Admin than a potted plant hidden in a corner of a forgotten room.

" I'm scared... " You whisper.

" You should be. History forgot the masters, but your senses will always know them. "

What?

" Move. "

When you refuse to, the world spins and you fall onto the freezing ground, palms barely fast enough to shield your head. A sharp pain on your lower legs makes you wince. She must have kicked you.

" Know that I will scrape your face across these sacred grounds, if I must. "

That certainly gets you to stand, blind like a mole if not for the weak wisp of the dark candle she holds. When the brunette begins to walk, her boots clicking faintly, you chase after her instantly. The last thing you want is to be left to your own vices in this piercing void. It's impossible to tell where the walls are, if there even are walls. Is this place decorated? Is everything as cold as the chill you feel pricking at your bare feet? This location feels infinite, but it could just be your mind playing odd tricks, trying to fill in the gaps.

Admin traverses its expanse with the same ease one will take a stroll through the local park. It's as if everything is perfectly lit for her, or maybe she just dwells here too, somehow. Turns blend into more turns, sometimes the feel of the ground will alter slightly, but you're never given time to process it. Every miniscule change serves to keep you perpetually alert, never allowing for the most insignificant of comforts to console you. Any moment now, there could be a bottomless pit and you just wouldn't know it.

" You're about to be bestowed a great honor. " She starts, in wording you can only imagine comes straight out of a low-budget movie. " You don't even know how lucky you are. "

What a curious definition of "luck" she has...

" You won't ever be the same. "

Shut up. Just shut up, stop talking.

You're not sure if you're wise to feel relieved when more candles, all identical to the one Admin carries, become visible. Hues of purple surround what you can outline as an altar of sorts, carved to Hell and back in symbols you can't make heads or tails of, spinning into intricate patterns on discolored marble. Silhouettes of foreign tapestry can be glimpsed at every time one of the candles roars slightly brighter.

This cult shit will be the end of you. Because it's real.

When Admin halts, you nearly walk past her, steadying eventually. That you know of, no one stands on the altar, which is equal parts puzzling as it is disquieting.

" My higher. " The woman bows to the darkness. " She's here, exactly as you wished. "

The silence that follows drags across your skin like nails on a chalkboard. A minor disturbance in the air makes the flames veer into the left for a moment. Oh you sure as fuck are not alone, your animal brain screams.

" Forgive the delay, Belo faltered. "

When her head rises, a gust of comparatively steaming air is blown your way, and you look ahead just in time to see two large orange slits open in the nothingness, sharpened pupils strike the fear of gods into you and your breath perishes in that instant. Help.

" Leave us. "

Admin tenses, her eyes widening. " Yes, m'lord. " Shock is quickly and effectively masked, the woman standing, retreating from whence the two of you came. Only the clicks of boot on ground fading away can indicate her departure.

Had you not been as paralyzed with ancient terror as you are, you would've shouted after her.

Slow, ever-uncomfortable seconds pass. You're not sure if you should bow like your escort did previously, or just turn tail and flee. Speaking is out of the question.

The privilege to choose is coldly ripped from you when the candles erupt into bright streams of fire, your sanity burning as well the moment a gigantic form presents itself.

There are no words. There can't be words. Your mind isn't given time to ponder on what it's actually seeing, just that it's witnessing the form of a god, compacted in a shape the human mind may be able to perceive. But not without pain, not without the ringing that stabs into your cranium from all sides at the sight of numerous charred arms and the flickers of red taking over your sight as your eyes nearly sizzle at the organs perched on his abdomen. A thin, vaguely emaciated figure extends to a height far beyond that of any monster's you have ever seen. You can make out charred, curdled flesh crossing that magnificent hide, horns, sharp jutting protrusions on hard shoulders, a curling, bony tail tipped with a scythe.

Every time your brain tries to fix and determine what it's looking at, parts of your comprehension falter and blend into others. The mere exposure to this being is breaking down your thought process, turning it into a mindless soup swirling to a nauseating rhythm. Basic shapes become unknowable mysteries, the smallest movement from their figure causing a searing headache to paralyze you. Colors become tastes and sounds turn to smells, sight is touch, your footing falters.

In a matter of blinks, sensation across your body starts to fade, becoming a distant murmur. And for a blissfully vacant moment, it's as if you're outside your own husk, glancing down from above, watching yourself stumble and heave.

Are you dying...? Is this what it feels like? Is it ending?

Something slender reaches out from the molding mass before you, past the corner of your vision. Faintly, the sound of maddened screeching reaches your eardrums -Is that you?- Before several points of contact are established, sending ripples of bile-churning goosebumps through your scalp and neck and-

Everything's calm.

It's not a good sensation. In fact, you're on the precipice of coherence, as if your impending meltdown is being held back by a transparent barrier, the fringes of your fraying conscious held together by the fickle webs of a spider. Something's is drying on your cheeks, your nose is too clogged by blood for you to breathe, so you end up coughing red onto your own chin. Finally, you're given enough motor control to blink, eyeballs burning, ears itching, though never able to turn your gaze away from him.

No wonder they call him lord. What else can you call an entity this supreme?

The god of this land spares you an unreadable expression. You'd piss yourself in fright if your bladder hadn't frozen.

" Nuisance. " He booms.

And every bone in your body rumbles. You won't talk. You should never talk. What is there to say, and how do you say it, to a deity? The word sounds from everywhere at once, the room feeding it to your senses by force.

" At its core, that is what you have been. "

The god moves now, flames dimming to shadow over his body once more, welcoming it, what you now recognize as a spidery hand briskly abandoning your head. A long tail drags across the floor audibly. Are you being circled?

" Thrown to my grounds by one of the... Guests of honor, I assumed you to be no more than a measly gift of gratitude. "

So he knows. Did Vesper tell him? Did he see it? Have you been watched this entire day?

" Bait perhaps. Scraps for the starved of lust. "

There's a gust of warm air on your back, though you dare not twitch, not even to wipe the crimson running down your face. You're going to die from this, probably. For some reason, the thought isn't as panic-inducing as it should be.

" It even crossed my mind that your presence here was more of a distraction. A means to disorient the servants, stir enough chaos for one of them to get fruitless ideas. "

Massive claws hold your upper body still, a stray, rough hand tugging one of your legs up with no care for your safety. Your hip joint pops harmlessly and you quiver with fear as your genitals are appraised by them. By a god figure.

" And, merit where merit is due, you have been most successful at distracting my workers. In just one day, you sank five to blind fucklust. "

There's a snort. No, an inhale?

" You drip these conquests like an offensive perfume. "

Oh yes, he's definitely angered you've apparently bothered the staff team here, no doubt about that. There was no winning here, was there? Being cooperative, being rambunctious, it all would inspire his wrath anyway, wouldn't it?

" I do not quite care for what makes you so special. " The voice sounds a little more distant, your limb unceremoniously dropped, body released. " It is a busy, busy night, lesser. "

" Killing you is on the cards. "

You guessed as much.

Pleading doesn't seem useful with him. If it meant nothing to Admin, then you're more than certain this one will crush your skull like a pea should you irritate him too much. Let him talk, you suppose.

" But so is a much more useful alternative. "

Oh?

" Which is the only reason I have deigned to talk to something as filthy as you. "

Are all gods like this? Is this what humanity has to look forward to? You have no reference, no expectations, no norms- This is brand new, uncharted, impactful territory. Giving the nuances of the situation any more thought than you currently are will unravel the small mercy of mental stability he bestowed upon you. Just as you have done since the start of this rollercoaster, you opt to live in the present. Think in the moment. Act on the second. Everything else is conceptually inexistent.

" With enough... " There's a long, low hum. " Guidance, you may come to serve me. " What must have been a wispy chuckle follows, as if the idea was a tad humorous to them. " Never as a worker here. Yet the ones sworn to me need to weened off my vessel, the future will require a certain level of distance. The sooner I fetch holes, the faster this will cease being a point of concern. "

... So, he's offering to let you remain alive, if you become a glorified cock-sock for his men?

What small shred of hope resided within you ebbs away in depressing seconds, face falling to a pained frown. Your tear ducts aren't working properly, but you're crying silently nonetheless. That's it, the culmination of all you've done in life.

It has led you here, to this moment, to this unspeakable humiliation.

What did you do that was vile enough to warrant this?

A flash of sizzling orange lets you know you're always being studied. The shadows grow more oppressive in their caress of your naked silhouette, he's closer now than he ever was before, every hair in your skin standing at attention.

Krulu's laughter roars loudly enough to momentarily deafen you.

" Do not illude yourself. " The god hisses. " Your kind is not permitted to leave these grounds. If you are to keep living then you will pay me tribute! "

" You will be of use, however your higher sees fit... "

A lulling, deceitful silence settles when his words fade into murmurs carried by the room's echoing.

It boils down to a very simple choice, one you can make sense of and see coming, thankfully.

When the numberless candles around the altar flare again, those bursts of wisteria ascend to the very ceiling of this room, spreading around the two of you like a dome of ethereal smog. More incomprehensible sigil-work and images eat up what little you can see of the walls, reredos and tapestry. Only now does the golden hue of jewelry adorning the entity's cruel body become clear to you, as does the yellowed snarl beneath such stern glowering.

One of those six hands darts its way to your blood-soaked jaw, claws hooking into soft skin like knives through melted butter when you're violently yanked onto the marbled surface of the altar. Krulu's face dwarfs yours, the glow of age-old hues holding immeasurable hate boring into the very depths of your soul.

" Waste my time no longer, pestilence. It is not often I offer agency to the inferior. "

You can only gulp.

" Give yourself to me, become property of my domain. "

The grip on your jaw softens just enough to let you move it, the soreness stinging harshly.

" Or perish, and the night will resume without you. "

Even if your throat feels as if it has been all but sealed with trepidation, you know this is a choice you'll have to voice.

Because, it could very well be the last choice you ever make.

And the higher is offering you the smallest amount of consideration by letting you write your own path.

[dan-the-womans-blog]

---

Hi! Could you please write a Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher one-shot with a mix of fluff and angst? I'd love a story where the reader has been friends with Billy and Stu since childhood and has always been the glue holding them together. Despite the chaos of high school and the mounting tension in Woodsboro, the reader has managed to keep a sense of normalcy and happiness in their trio.

However, the reader starts noticing disturbing changes in Billy and Stu's behavior—late-night disappearances, strange conversations, and an unsettling intensity in their eyes. The reader confronts them, leading to a heated argument where dark secrets are revealed. In the aftermath, the reader is torn between the fear of their actions and the deep bond they share.

The angst peaks when the reader decides to distance themselves, hoping to find clarity and safety. But Billy and Stu, realizing how much they need the reader, come up with a plan to win back their trust and prove their loyalty.

I'd love to see a blend of intense, emotional scenes with moments of tenderness and vulnerability. How does the reader navigate their fear and love for Billy and Stu? And how do Billy and Stu cope with the possibility of losing the one person who truly understands them?

Thank you so much!

---

Of course i can write this for you anon, i love writing ansgty stuff, i live for it, i hope it is up to standard!

Title: Haunted Hearts and Healing Shadows

---

The old, creaking playground echoed with laughter that had long since faded, now replaced by the whispers of autumn leaves. You, Billy, and Stu had grown up here, your friendship forged in the crucible of scraped knees and shared secrets. This playground, once a sanctuary of childhood innocence, now stood as a silent witness to the tangled web of your lives. From carefree days to the tumultuous years of high school, you had been the glue holding your trio together. But lately, the edges of that bond had started to fray, and an unsettling darkness loomed over your once inseparable friendship.

High school in Woodsboro had its own set of challenges, but you had always found solace in the company of Billy and Stu. Your dynamic had always been unique—Billy with his brooding intensity, Stu with his wild charisma, and you, the calming presence that balanced their extremes. Together, you managed to create a bubble of normalcy amidst the chaos of adolescence. However, as senior year progressed, the changes in Billy and Stu became harder to ignore.

Billy's eyes, once filled with a deep, contemplative warmth, now held a flicker of something darker, something you couldn't quite place. Stu, ever the life of the party, had begun to wear his manic energy like a mask, his laughter sounding more forced, more desperate. They started disappearing at odd hours, their conversations becoming hushed and secretive. You told yourself it was just the stress of impending adulthood, but the pit in your stomach suggested otherwise.

One night, after a particularly tense evening at Stu's house, you couldn't take it anymore. The air crackled with unspoken words as you confronted them in the dimly lit basement. "What's going on with you two?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "I can't keep pretending everything is fine when it's not."

Billy and Stu exchanged a glance, a silent communication that only deepened your unease. "You wouldn't understand," Billy finally said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Try me," you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

The floodgates opened. Dark secrets spilled forth—tales of manipulation, of violence, of a thrill that transcended the normal teenage rebellion. Billy's voice was cold, detached as he spoke of their actions, while Stu's eyes flickered with a twisted excitement. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down as the weight of their revelations crushed you.

"You did this?" you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "How could you—how could you involve me in this?"

Billy stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "We did it for us, to protect what we have. Can't you see that?"

The words hung heavy in the air, a cruel irony. They had done this for you, for the bond you shared, yet it was that very bond that now felt tainted, corrupted by their actions. You stumbled out of the basement, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You needed distance, space to process the horrors they had confessed.

The days that followed were a blur. You distanced yourself, seeking refuge in the familiar yet now alien corners of Woodsboro. You grappled with your feelings, torn between the love you had for Billy and Stu and the fear of what they had become. Nights were the hardest, the shadows in your room a stark reminder of the darkness lurking in your friends.

Billy and Stu, for their part, struggled in your absence. Billy's stoic exterior cracked, revealing a vulnerability you had rarely seen. Stu, usually so effervescent, became subdued, his manic energy replaced with a hollow emptiness. They realized, perhaps too late, just how much you meant to them—how integral you were to their very existence.

Desperate to win back your trust, they devised a plan. It wasn't grand or elaborate, but it was heartfelt. They showed up at your house one evening, their expressions a mixture of hope and fear. "We need to talk," Billy said softly, his voice devoid of its usual edge.

You let them in, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. They apologized—not just for their actions, but for the pain they had caused you. They spoke of their need for you, how you were the light that kept their darkness at bay. Billy's hand trembled as he reached for yours, while Stu's eyes, filled with a rare sincerity, mirrored your own turmoil.

Tears flowed freely as you listened, your heart aching with the weight of their confessions. You could see their vulnerability, the cracks in their carefully constructed facades. They weren't asking for forgiveness, not entirely; they were asking for a chance to make things right.

In that moment, you realized that despite everything, you still cared deeply for them. The bond you shared, though damaged, was not beyond repair. You agreed to give them another chance, but with conditions—honesty, transparency, and the understanding that they needed to seek help.

The path to healing was not easy. There were nights filled with nightmares and days of strained silence. But there were also moments of tenderness, of genuine connection that reminded you of why you had loved them in the first place. You saw glimpses of the boys you had grown up with, buried beneath the layers of pain and darkness.

The resolution was not a fairytale ending, but it was realistic. You forgave, but you didn't forget. Trust was rebuilt slowly, brick by brick, as you navigated the complexities of your relationship. And while the shadows of Woodsboro still loomed large, you found solace in the small moments of light—those fleeting instances of happiness that reminded you of the strength of your bond.

In the end, your discovery was a testament to the resilience of love and friendship. It was a demonstration of navigating the fine line between fear and forgiveness, of finding hope in the darkest of places. And as you stood between Billy and Stu, their hands in yours, you knew that while the road ahead was uncertain, you would face it together, bound by the shared shadows of your past and the healing light of your future.

Leave a note if you'd like, it doesnt really matter how, if not thats fine too!😊

[songbirdseung]

bad boy, gone good / choi yeonjun

Choi Yeonjun — the epitome of a bad boy, known for his rebellious attitude and mysterious charm. His days were filled with the thrill of breaking rules, and his nights echoed with the adrenaline of living life on the edge.

Enter Y/N, a beacon of warmth and kindness, with a heart untarnished by the city's harsh realities. Fate intervened, weaving their destinies together in unexpected ways. When Y/N, the girl with a smile that could brighten the darkest corners, collided with Yeonjun's world, everything changed.

As their worlds collided, secrets unfolded, and the walls Yeonjun had built around himself began to crumble. Y/N's presence sparked a transformation in him, challenging the very essence of his rebellious nature. Can love be the catalyst for change?

Yeonjun's early years were marred by the harsh realities of an unforgiving environment. Growing up on the fringes of the city's underbelly, he witnessed firsthand the struggle for survival. Raised in a broken home, where love was a scarce commodity and instability was the only constant, he learned to navigate the tumultuous seas of his youth alone.

Fuelled by a hunger for control in a world that seemed determined to wrest it away, Yeonjun delved into the realm of defiance. The streets became his sanctuary, a place where rules were mere suggestions and boundaries blurred into shades of rebellion. His demeanor transformed, adopting an air of defiance and a reputation that sent shivers through the city's spine.

The allure of the night, with its neon glow and hidden corners, became Yeonjun's playground. Graffiti-covered walls and the distant wail of sirens provided the soundtrack to his tumultuous existence. He embraced the role of a bad boy with open arms, finding solace in the chaos that mirrored the storm within.

Yet, beneath the tough exterior and the smirks that hinted at a disregard for authority, there lay a complex soul. A boy who had grown up too fast, who yearned for stability amid the turbulence of his surroundings. The bad boy persona was both armor and camouflage, shielding the vulnerabilities that lurked beneath the surface.

The memory of that encounter lingered, a pivotal moment where the trajectory of Yeonjun's life shifted. The streets, once witnesses to his rebellion, became a canvas for transformation. In the tapestry of his past, that cold night held a defining thread—a thread that hinted at a yearning for something beyond the confines of the city's chaos, a yearning that would eventually lead him to an unexpected encounter with warmth and kindness, the likes of which he had never known before.

Yeonjun found himself on the familiar concrete steps of an abandoned building, the remnants of shattered glass and graffiti-covered walls bearing witness to the desolation that mirrored his own existence. The city slept, but not Yeonjun. His restless spirit roamed the streets like a lone wolf searching for purpose.

As he sat there, contemplating the harsh truths of his life, the echoes of raised voices and slammed doors reverberated in his mind. Flashbacks of a tumultuous household, where love was a scarce commodity and stability a distant dream, played like a haunting melody.

That night marked the breaking point, the moment Yeonjun decided to escape the suffocating embrace of his turbulent home. The city's heartbeat became his guide, and he embraced the streets with an air of defiance, determined to carve out a space where he could breathe.

In current time, the night air was thick with the energy of rebellion as Yeonjun, accompanied by his fellow comrades in mischief, ventured into the heart of the city. The neon lights painted the streets with vibrant hues, reflecting the chaos and vibrancy that fueled their nightly escapades.

Yeonjun's friends each carrying their unique brand of defiance, joined him in this ritual of rebellion. Beomgyu, with his mischievous grin, Taehyun with an air of nonchalance, Soobin radiating quiet intensity, and Huening Kai exuding youthful exuberance—this band of brothers made the city their playground.

The night unfolded in a series of reckless adventures, a collage of moments that defined their camaraderie. They spray-painted walls with vibrant colors, leaving their mark on the city's canvas. The distant sound of music wafted through the air as they danced in abandoned alleyways, an impromptu celebration of freedom.

Yeonjun, the orchestrator of this nocturnal symphony, led his friends through the labyrinth of the urban jungle. They scaled fences, traversed rooftops, and embraced the thrill of the unknown. Each daring feat was met with laughter and shared glances that spoke volumes—a silent understanding that this night was a manifestation of their collective rebellion against the mundane.

Amid the chaos, Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. The city, once his refuge from a turbulent past, had transformed into a playground of shared adventures. Yet, there lingered a subtle shift in dynamics, an undercurrent of change that hinted at a journey beyond the recklessness.

As the night wore on, they found themselves perched on the rooftop of an abandoned building, the city sprawled beneath them like a glittering tapestry. The collective laughter echoed in the silence that followed, and Yeonjun's gaze drifted to the horizon, where the first light of dawn painted the sky.

In that moment, surrounded by the camaraderie of friends who had become his chosen family, Yeonjun felt a subtle reassessment of his rebellious pursuits. The thrill of the night was undeniable, but there was a whisper of something more—a yearning for depth, for meaning, and perhaps, for a different kind of rebellion that extended beyond the shadows of the city.

As they descended from their lofty perch, the echoes of their nightly escapades still reverberating, Yeonjun couldn't shake the feeling that this journey, shared with those who understood the language of rebellion, was on the cusp of a transformative chapter—one where the shadows of the past might find solace in the light of unexpected futures.

The night hung heavy with the scent of salt and the rhythmic lullaby of crashing waves as the boys of TXT gathered on the beach. The sand beneath their feet felt cool and comforting, a stark contrast to the day's rebellious escapades. The moon cast a gentle glow on the water, and the city's distant lights shimmered like distant stars.

As they settled into the makeshift circle they'd formed, the atmosphere was charged with a unique blend of camaraderie and introspection. The sound of the waves provided a natural soundtrack to the quiet moments, punctuated by occasional laughter that echoed against the vast expanse of the ocean.

Yeonjun, gazing at the horizon, broke the silence, his voice carrying a reflective tone. "You ever wonder where we'll be in a few years? What we'll be doing?"

The question lingered in the air, prompting thoughtful glances exchanged among the group. Soobin, the silent contemplator, spoke up, "I mean, we're living this wild life now, but what about the future? Are we just running from something or toward something?"

Beomgyu, who usually wore a carefree grin, chimed in, "Life's one big adventure, right? But what if we're missing out on something important along the way?"

Huening Kai, always the beacon of youthful energy, added, "I never thought about it like that. What if we're letting the thrill of the present distract us from the potential of the future?"

As the conversation deepened, the beach transformed into a confessional of sorts. Each member shared their aspirations, fears, and the weight of expectations they carried. The moonlit night became a canvas for vulnerability, and the camaraderie they'd built was the brush that painted the tapestry of their shared journey.

Taehyun, usually reserved, spoke softly, "Sometimes I wonder if the choices we make today will define who we become tomorrow. Are we building a foundation or just stacking up uncertainties?"

The vulnerability in his words hung in the air, and a collective sigh seemed to escape the group. Yeonjun, looking at each of his friends, felt a sense of gratitude for the shared vulnerability that turned their nightly escapade into a poignant moment of reflection.

In the quietude that followed, the waves continued their rhythmic dance, a reminder of the ever-flowing nature of time. The boys, surrounded by the serenity of the beach, found solace in the shared realization that life's journey was a delicate balance between the thrill of the present and the unknown promise of the future.

As they stood up to leave, the moon casting long shadows on the sand, there was a subtle shift in the air. The beach, once a backdrop for rebellion and laughter, had become a canvas for contemplation—a place where friendships deepened, and the echoes of the night lingered as a reminder that every choice, every adventure, held the potential to shape the narratives of their lives.

--

The morning sun painted hues of warmth across Seoul, casting a soft glow into Yeonjun's apartment. As he blinked away the remnants of sleep, a lingering sense of introspection from the previous night clung to his thoughts. The beach conversations, the shared vulnerabilities—all echoed in his mind like a gentle reminder of the potential for change.

Yeonjun sat up, his gaze drifting to the cityscape outside his window. The morning held promise, a clean slate waiting to be written with new choices and perspectives. The weight of the past lingered, but the desire for transformation stirred within him.

A tentative resolution formed in his mind. "Maybe it's time for a change," he mused, the words carrying a whisper of determination. Yeonjun envisioned a different trajectory, one that embraced growth, stability, and a departure from the reckless patterns that had defined his life.

But as the day unfolded, the stressors of reality pressed upon him—deadlines, expectations, the constant hum of the city demanding attention. The allure of his old haunts, the familiar thrill of rebellion, seemed like an escape from the complexities of change.

In the face of mounting pressure, Yeonjun found himself retracing the steps of his past. The city welcomed him with open arms, the neon lights and graffiti-covered walls a comforting familiarity. The adrenaline of rebellion called out, promising a temporary respite from the weight of uncertainty.

Hours passed in a blur of graffiti, daring escapades, and the intoxicating thrill of defiance. The city's heartbeat matched the rhythm of his footsteps, and the echoes of the night played out like a familiar song. In the midst of chaos, Yeonjun sought solace, a fleeting escape from the internal conflict that tugged at his soul.

As the moon reclaimed the sky, Yeonjun, standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, felt a mix of emotions. The temporary euphoria of the night's escapades masked the underlying conflict within. The city's shadows, once a refuge, now mirrored the complexities of his own journey.

In the quiet hours before dawn, as the city slept and Yeonjun stood alone, the weight of his choices settled upon him. The desire for change, the yearning for a different path, clashed with the allure of the familiar. The morning sun would soon rise, and with it, the echoes of the night would fade into the reality of a new day—one where the trajectory of Yeonjun's life remained uncertain, hanging in the delicate balance between the past and the potential for a different, yet uncharted, future.

The night wore on, and the city's pulse beat steadily with the rhythm of rebellion. Yeonjun, still caught in the throes of his old habits, found himself stumbling into a dimly lit bar—a haven for those seeking refuge from the chaos outside. The air inside was thick with the hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the distant melodies of a live band.

As Yeonjun settled onto a barstool, the atmosphere of the place embraced him like an old friend. The bartender, a grizzled man with a weathered smile, poured a shot without needing a request. The amber liquid seemed to carry the weight of countless stories, each sip a silent acknowledgment of the night's tumult.

In the corner of the room, a spotlight illuminated a small stage where a singer crooned a soulful ballad, her voice a comforting melody in the midst of the cacophony. Yeonjun, lost in the ambiance, barely noticed the figure approaching him.

"Rough night?" A voice, tinged with empathy, cut through the ambient noise. Yeonjun looked up to find the hostess, Y/N, standing beside him, her eyes reflecting a curious mixture of concern and understanding.

He offered a half-smile, a gesture that held a hint of weariness. "You could say that. Just trying to escape for a bit."

Y/N nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken struggles that often brought people to the dim corners of the bar. "We all have our reasons for seeking refuge here."

As the night unfolded, the conversation between Yeonjun and Y/N flowed effortlessly. The clinking of glasses and the distant melodies became the backdrop to their exchange. Y/N, with a warmth that transcended the dimly lit surroundings, shared snippets of her own journey—the dreams she harbored, the challenges she faced, and the beauty she found in the small moments.

Yeonjun, typically guarded, felt a subtle vulnerability in her presence. The night, once a canvas for rebellion, transformed into a space for shared stories and connection. The weight of uncertainty, which had driven him to the familiar haunts of the city, seemed to momentarily lift.

As the clock ticked away, and the night began to wane, Yeonjun found himself captivated by the genuine nature of the conversation. In the midst of the city's chaos, he discovered a moment of respite and connection—one that hinted at the potential for a different kind of escape, one not rooted in rebellion, but in the shared understanding and warmth of unexpected connections.

As the night unfolded, and Y/N's laughter resonated in the air, a subtle shift occurred within Yeonjun. The dimly lit bar, once a refuge from the complexities of his world, now harbored the potential for something different—a connection that went beyond the neon-lit rebellious escapades.

In the midst of their conversation, a quiet realization dawned on him. Y/N's presence was more than just a temporary distraction; it was a gentle tug at the strings of his guarded heart. Her warmth, the sincerity in her eyes, and the authenticity with which she shared her stories created a bridge between their worlds.

As Y/N spoke about her dreams, her challenges, and the beauty she found in life's small moments, Yeonjun found himself drawn to more than just the words. It was the way her eyes sparkled with passion, the genuine laughter that danced through the air, and the subtle nuances of her expressions that etched themselves into his consciousness.

He couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between the chaos of the city outside and the serenity he felt in Y/N's presence. The night, once a canvas for rebellion, now unfolded as a tapestry of shared stories and unspoken connections. The music played on, a soft melody that underscored the intimate exchange between them.

In the quiet pauses between their words, Yeonjun's thoughts danced on the precipice of realization. He was attracted to more than just the allure of the city's shadows; he was drawn to the light that Y/N brought into his world. Her authenticity, the way she navigated life with a genuine spirit, resonated with a part of him that had long been buried beneath layers of rebellion.

As he stole glances, catching the subtle play of emotions on her face, Yeonjun acknowledged the stirring of something unfamiliar. It wasn't just attraction; it was a recognition of the potential for a connection that transcended the transient thrill of the night.

Yet, amid the subtle allure of this realization, uncertainty lingered. Yeonjun grappled with the juxtaposition of his rebellious nature and the yearning for something more profound. The night may have been a temporary escape, but in the presence of Y/N, he found himself confronting a truth that hinted at a different kind of escape—one rooted in the genuine connection and the uncharted territories of the heart.

The bar's ambiance hummed around them, the murmur of conversations and the soft melodies providing a comforting backdrop to Yeonjun and Y/N's shared connection. As they settled into a lull in the conversation, Yeonjun couldn't help but steer the dialogue toward the uncharted territories of personal preferences.

"So, Y/N," he began, a playful twinkle in his eyes, "what kind of guys are you into? Bad boys, perhaps?"

Y/N chuckled, a warmth in her expression that mirrored the sincerity in her words. "You know, Yeonjun, I've learned not to judge someone based on appearances or stereotypes. Whether they're a 'bad boy' or a 'good boy,' it doesn't matter to me. What's important is the connection, the compatibility. That's what makes someone attractive in my eyes."

Her words hung in the air, carrying a wisdom that transcended the casual banter. Yeonjun, caught off guard by the depth of her response, felt a subtle reassurance wash over him. It was as if Y/N's perspective lifted a weight he didn't realize he was carrying.

She continued, her gaze meeting his with a genuine sincerity, "People are so much more than the labels we give them. It's about understanding who they are, what they value, and finding that connection that goes beyond surface judgments."

Yeonjun nodded, a newfound appreciation for Y/N's perspective settling within him. The weight of his own self-imposed labels, the confines of being a "bad boy," felt a little less constricting in the face of her understanding.

"That's a refreshing way to look at things," he admitted, a genuine smile forming on his lips. "Sometimes, it's easy to get caught up in those labels and forget that there's so much more to a person."

Y/N's smile mirrored his own, a shared understanding passing between them. In that moment, the barriers of judgment and preconceived notions melted away, leaving room for a connection that went beyond the surface. The night continued, the ebb and flow of conversation carrying with it the promise of a connection built on authenticity and shared perspectives—something that felt, for both Yeonjun and Y/N, refreshingly real amid the transient thrill of the city's night.

--

A week had passed, and the bar that had become a refuge for Yeonjun seemed unusually devoid of Y/N's presence. Night after night, he found himself scanning the dimly lit space, hoping to catch a glimpse of her warm smile and engage in the conversations that had become a source of comfort.

However, fate seemed to play a coy game, and Y/N remained elusive. The absence of her laughter, the missing warmth in her eyes, left a void that echoed in the silent corners of Yeonjun's thoughts.

His friends, the members of TXT, couldn't help but notice the change in Yeonjun's demeanor. The usual twinkle in his eyes was replaced by a subtle hint of melancholy, and the playful banter that characterized his interactions with them took on a more subdued tone.

One evening, as they gathered in the living room of their shared space, Beomgyu couldn't resist teasing. "Hey, Yeonjun, what's with the long face? Did the bad boy finally meet his match?"

Taehyun chimed in with a sly grin, "Yeah, you've been looking a bit too contemplative lately. Is there a love story brewing in the shadows?"

Yeonjun, caught off guard by the sudden attention, sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not like that. I've just been trying to see Y/N at the bar, but she's never there when I am. She's a part-timer, and our schedules don't seem to align lately."

Soobin, always the voice of reason, leaned forward with a knowing smile. "Ah, the mysterious part-timer. Yeonjun's got a soft spot for her."

The room erupted in laughter, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes, his attempts to brush off the teasing met with playful persistence. Huening Kai, ever the optimist, added fuel to the fire. "Lover boy Yeonjun! Who would've thought?"

As the banter continued, Yeonjun found himself opening up to his friends about the connection he felt with Y/N. The laughter transformed into genuine curiosity as they listened to the subtle nuances of his encounters with her at the bar.

Beomgyu, with a mischievous grin, declared, "Looks like our bad boy is turning into a romantic. Who would've seen that coming?"

--

As Yeonjun strolled through the bustling streets, the echoes of his friends' teasing still resonating in his mind, he found himself drawn to the familiar hustle and bustle of a nearby mall. The rhythmic hum of shoppers, the vibrant displays in store windows, and the scent of various cuisines mingled in the air.

Amid the crowd, a flash of familiarity caught his attention. There, across the bustling walkway, was Y/N. She navigated the mall with a sense of purpose, her presence standing out amidst the diverse sea of shoppers.

A rush of anticipation coursed through Yeonjun as he approached her. "Y/N!" he called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise.

She turned, a surprised yet warm smile spreading across her face. "Yeonjun! What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?"

He shrugged casually, the teasing banter from his friends still fresh in his mind. "Just taking a stroll, you know. Happened to stumble upon this place. What about you? Shopping spree?"

Y/N chuckled, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth. "Not really. Just running errands and grabbing a quick bite. Care to join me?"

As they walked together through the mall, the atmosphere shifted from the casual banter of their bar conversations to the lighthearted exchange one might expect from friends catching up. The city's chaos faded into the background as they explored the various stores and shared stories about their day.

Y/N's easygoing nature and the genuine connection they shared created a sense of comfort that transcended the initial allure of the night. As they reached a quaint café tucked away in a corner of the mall, Yeonjun found himself appreciating the simplicity of the moment—a chance encounter that felt like more than just a casual run-in.

As they sat, sipping on their drinks and exchanging stories, Yeonjun realized that sometimes, the most meaningful connections can be found in the unlikeliest of places. The mall, once a backdrop for the city's daily rhythm, became the setting for a different kind of encounter—one that hinted at the potential for a connection beyond the dimly lit corners of a bar or the playful banter of friends.

In that moment, as they shared laughter and conversation, Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of curiosity about the unfolding chapters of their connection—a connection that, like the city itself, held the promise of unexpected discoveries and the potential for something more than meets the eye.

As the conversation flowed and laughter echoed through the cozy café, Yeonjun felt a surge of courage welling up within him. The warmth of the moment, the genuine connection with Y/N, emboldened him to take a step beyond the casual encounters of the bar and mall.

Summoning the strength, he cleared his throat and, with a sheepish yet sincere smile, asked, "Hey, Y/N, I was thinking… would you mind if I got your number? Maybe we could hang out sometime, like, properly?"

Y/N's eyes twinkled with amusement, and a playful grin danced on her lips. "About time, Yeonjun. I was starting to wonder if you'd ever ask."

Embarrassed yet relieved, he chuckled, "Well, you know, bad boys gotta be careful with their tender hearts."

They exchanged numbers, the promise of a new connection etched in the digits on their screens. Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the next day—a hangout that held the potential to explore the nuances of their connection beyond the confines of the city's night.

As they parted ways, the warmth of the cafe lingered in the air, and Yeonjun couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter marked a turning point. The city, with its chaotic rhythm and unexpected twists, seemed to be orchestrating a unique chapter in his life—one where a simple hangout held the potential to unravel layers of connection and redefine the narratives of his rebellious heart.

--

The next day dawned with the familiar energy of Seoul's bustling streets. The TXT members gathered in their shared space, a routine invitation to embark on their usual escapades hanging in the air. Soobin, the de facto planner of their adventures, couldn't help but extend the invitation.

"Hey, guys, what do you say we hit the usual spots today? Paint the town with our rebellious spirit?" Soobin suggested, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

However, Yeonjun, with a subtle smile playing on his lips, spoke up, "I think I'll pass today, guys. Got something else on my agenda."

A collective eyebrow raise from the group accompanied Soobin's teasing tone. "Oh, really? Got a hot date or something, lover boy?"

Yeonjun, unfazed, nodded with a smirk. "You could say that. Just something casual."

As he walked away, leaving a curious group of friends in his wake, the echoes of their laughter followed him. The playful teasing resonated through the space, and Soobin couldn't resist making one last comment before Yeonjun disappeared into his room.

"Looks like our bad boy has caught the love bug. Who would've thought?" Soobin quipped, eliciting a chorus of laughter from the remaining members.

In his room, Yeonjun couldn't help but smile at the banter of his friends. The usual rebellious pursuits were set aside for a different kind of adventure—one that involved the anticipation of a friendly hangout with Y/N. As he got ready for the day, he couldn't shake the feeling that this departure from their routine held the promise of something meaningful, a chapter in his life that unfolded beyond the city's night and the echoes of his rebellious past.

In the dimly lit corners of a Seoul nightclub, the atmosphere pulsed with energy, and the echoes of laughter and music filled the air. Yeonjun, known for his magnetic charm and carefree persona, moved through the crowd with an effortless swagger that drew attention like moths to a flame.

In this scene, we find ourselves in a moment from Yeonjun's past—a time when he was the quintessential heartbreaker, a playboy who reveled in the thrill of transient connections. His reputation preceded him, and many were lured by the enigma that surrounded him.

As he danced with someone new every night and left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, there was a certain intoxication in the fleeting encounters and the admiration he received. The city's lights, reflecting in the eyes of those who sought his attention, seemed to validate the reckless pursuit of pleasure.

However, amid the dance floor's pulsating rhythm and the haze of nightlife, there were moments when Yeonjun, in the quiet solitude of his thoughts, felt a twinge of emptiness. The very charm that drew others to him became a barrier, shielding him from the depth of genuine connections.

The flashbacks are a montage of shared glances, whispered promises, and the ephemeral nature of his interactions. In each scene, we see glimpses of the playboy persona, the facade that hid a sense of hollowness.

Cut to the present day, and Yeonjun, as he prepares for a different kind of encounter with Y/N, finds himself dwelling on those moments of his past. The weight of his playboy reputation, the regret for the hearts he left in his wake, lingers in the recesses of his consciousness.

As he faces the present with a desire for meaningful connections, the echoes of his playboy days serve as a backdrop—a reminder of the journey that brought him to this point of reflection and the potential for growth and redemption.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city, Yeonjun and Y/N found themselves in the heart of Seoul, ready for a hangout that promised to be different from their usual encounters.

They decided to explore the city's hidden gems, away from the neon-lit corners and pulsating beats of the nightlife. The evening air carried a sense of anticipation as they strolled through quaint streets, exchanging stories and laughter.

Their connection, once confined to the dimly lit bar and the casual encounters of the mall, deepened in the midst of shared experiences. They discovered shared interests, laughed at each other's jokes, and engaged in conversations that flowed effortlessly.

As they explored a cozy café tucked away in a quiet alley, the ambiance echoed the genuine warmth of their connection. The clinking of coffee cups and the distant hum of the city formed a comforting backdrop to their shared moments.

In this setting, Yeonjun felt a departure from the playboy persona of his past. The genuine connection he sought, the desire for meaningful moments, unfolded in the simple yet profound exchange of stories and laughter. The city, once a playground for his rebellious pursuits, became a canvas for a different kind of adventure—one that involved the exploration of authentic connections and the unraveling of his own layers.

As the evening unfolded, Yeonjun couldn't help but appreciate the shift in dynamics. The heartbreaker of his past found solace in the simplicity of the present—a friendly hangout that held the potential for something more profound.

For Y/N, the night held a similar sentiment. The playful banter of their past encounters transformed into a shared understanding, and the laughter that echoed through the streets became a testament to the budding connection between two individuals navigating the complexities of their own journeys.

Amidst the soothing ambiance of the café, Yeonjun found a moment to open up to Y/N. The warmth of their connection had already surpassed the transient encounters of the past, and he felt a genuine desire to share his thoughts with her.

"Y/N," he began, his gaze sincere and vulnerable, "there's something I've been thinking about a lot lately. I've been living this kind of… reckless life, you know? The playboy, heartbreaker image—it's not really who I want to be anymore."

Y/N listened attentively, her eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and encouragement. "It's never easy realizing you want to change, but it's a brave step to take," she replied, her voice gentle yet reassuring.

Yeonjun sighed, the weight of his past choices palpable in his words. "I've been concerned about where my current behaviors might lead me. I want something more meaningful, something that goes beyond the surface. I'm just not sure how to navigate it all."

Y/N offered a comforting smile, her words carrying a wisdom that resonated with empathy. "Change is a process, Yeonjun. It's about taking small steps, setting intentions, and being patient with yourself. You don't have to figure it all out at once. What matters is that you're aware of your desires for change and that you're willing to work towards it."

Her advice struck a chord with Yeonjun, a sense of gratitude swelling within him. "You're right. I don't have to rush things. It's just that… I've seen the consequences of my past actions, and I don't want to keep heading down that path."

Y/N nodded, her expression understanding. "Acknowledging that is the first step. And you're not alone in this journey. Surround yourself with people who support your growth, set realistic goals, and be kind to yourself along the way. Change takes time, but it's worth it if it aligns with the person you want to become."

As the conversation unfolded, Yeonjun felt a newfound sense of support and understanding. Y/N's words became a guiding light, illuminating a path towards self-discovery and growth. In her presence, he realized that the city, with its myriad possibilities, offered not only the echoes of the past but also the potential for transformation and a future aligned with the authenticity he sought.

The shared laughter and conversations took on a deeper meaning. Yeonjun, grateful for the connection he found in Y/N, looked towards the future with a sense of hope and determination—a departure from the playboy heartbreaker, and a step towards the person he aspired to be.

As they parted ways that night, the promise of future hangouts lingered in the air. Yeonjun, reflecting on the evening's events, realized that the city, with its myriad possibilities, was still full of surprises—a place where the echoes of his past were met with the potential for growth, connection, and the discovery of something more meaningful than the transient allure of his playboy days.

--

The night's gentle embrace lingered as Yeonjun returned home to the shared space where the members of TXT resided. The camaraderie of their friendship had weathered the storms of rebellion, and as he stepped through the door, he felt a sense of unity that encouraged him to share his thoughts with his friends.

Gathering the members in the living room, Yeonjun's expression held a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Hey, guys, there's something I've been thinking about. I've realized that maybe it's time for some changes in our lives, you know? Slowly, but surely."

The room fell into a thoughtful silence as the other members, each absorbed in their own contemplations, looked at Yeonjun with a mix of curiosity and support. Soobin, always the grounded leader, nodded encouragingly. "What kind of changes are you thinking, Yeonjun?"

Yeonjun took a deep breath before continuing, "I've been living a certain way, and it's been fun, but I can't help feeling like it's not sustainable. I want more from life, from our experiences. Maybe we can start making choices that lead to growth, connections, and something more meaningful."

The atmosphere in the room shifted, a shared understanding permeating the air. Beomgyu chimed in, "I've been feeling something similar. It's like we've been dancing to the same rhythm, and maybe it's time for a new tune."

Taehyun added with a thoughtful nod, "Change can be good, as long as we're doing it for the right reasons. What are you thinking, Yeonjun?"

Yeonjun, appreciative of the support from his friends, shared his reflections about wanting to shed the playboy image and embrace a more meaningful lifestyle. The room became a space for openness and vulnerability, each member contributing their thoughts and desires for change.

Soobin, with a reassuring smile, spoke, "I think it's a great idea. We've grown together, and this could be the next chapter for us. Let's support each other in making positive changes and explore the new possibilities that come our way."

As the conversation unfolded, the members of TXT found themselves in a collective agreement—a pact to embark on a journey of growth and change together. The echoes of their past, marked by rebellion and carefree pursuits, now harmonized with the potential for a future filled with genuine connections and meaningful experiences.

In that shared moment, surrounded by the support of true friends, Yeonjun felt a sense of relief and optimism for the transformative path that lay ahead—a departure from the old ways, and a step towards a future built on mutual support, understanding, and the enduring bonds of their friendship.

--

On Y/N's free day, Yeonjun took the initiative to introduce her to the members of TXT. The shared space buzzed with excitement as introductions were made, and Y/N's warm demeanor quickly endeared her to the group.

Yeonjun, ever the showman, decided to give a grand introduction. "Ladies and gentlemen, meet the fabulous Y/N, the one who's going to save us from our rebellious ways!"

Beomgyu, with a mischievous grin, added, "The one who will turn us from bad boys to good guys. Or at least try."

Y/N, amused by the theatrics, curtsied playfully, "Well, hello, gentlemen. I'm here for the challenge!"

As they all sat down, the atmosphere shifted from grand introductions to more casual banter. Soobin, the group's natural leader, decided to break the ice with a friendly question. "So, Y/N, what brings you into the chaotic world of TXT?"

Y/N, with a twinkle in her eye, replied, "Oh, just felt like I needed a little more chaos in my life. Thought you guys could use some company."

The boys erupted into laughter, realizing they were in for a day full of unexpected surprises. Taehyun, always the observant one, couldn't help but comment, "I have a feeling we're in for an interesting time with you around."

The conversation continued with jokes, playful teasing, and Y/N effortlessly blending into the camaraderie of the group. Huening Kai, intrigued by the dynamic, chimed in with a humorous question, "So, Y/N, what's your superpower? How do you plan to tame the chaos?"

Y/N, with a mock-serious expression, replied, "Well, I have the incredible ability to turn rebellious boys into gentlemen with just a smile. It's a work in progress."

The boys burst into laughter, realizing that Y/N's presence brought not only a mission of positive change but also a healthy dose of humor and lightheartedness. Throughout the day, they discovered that Y/N's superpower wasn't just in her ability to suggest positive changes but also in her knack for turning even the most serious moments into opportunities for laughter and connection.

As the day unfolded, the shared jokes and funny anecdotes became the glue that bonded them together. Y/N, with her infectious laughter and playful spirit, seamlessly became a part of the group—a friend who not only saw the potential for positive change but also knew how to make the journey enjoyable along the way.

With a genuine smile, Y/N proposed, "How about we make today a day of trying new things? I've got a few activities in mind that might be a fun change of pace."

The boys, always up for an adventure, agreed enthusiastically. Throughout the day, Y/N curated a series of activities designed to replace their rebellious habits with more constructive and fulfilling pursuits.

She started with a visit to an art studio, encouraging them to channel their creativity onto canvases rather than expressing it through reckless actions. Beomgyu, who had a knack for artistic expression, found a new passion for painting, while Kai discovered the therapeutic benefits of sculpting.

Next, Y/N led them to a community garden, where they tried their hands at planting and nurturing flowers. The act of tending to living things replaced their destructive tendencies with a sense of responsibility and care. Soobin, who initially questioned the choice, found solace in the simplicity of gardening.

Lunchtime was an opportunity for Y/N to get to know each member on a personal level. She attentively listened to their individual goals and aspirations, taking note of every detail. Over meals, she subtly integrated conversations about healthier habits and positive lifestyle changes.

In the afternoon, they visited a local gym, where Y/N introduced them to various exercises and fitness routines. Taehyun, who enjoyed the adrenaline rush of rebellion, found a new outlet in the intensity of a workout. It became evident that Y/N had tailored each activity to address the unique interests and needs of each member.

As the day unfolded, Y/N's ability to understand and connect with the members became increasingly apparent. She acknowledged the little details, the personal goals, and the reactions to different activities. For Yeonjun, she suggested activities that channeled his energy into a constructive outlet, away from the reckless pursuits of the past.

The day ended with a cozy dinner where Y/N shared her observations and suggestions for positive changes. The members, initially skeptical, found themselves inspired by Y/N's thoughtful approach. The city, once a canvas for rebellion, became a space for growth, understanding, and the potential for a future built on healthier choices and genuine connections.

As they bid farewell to Y/N that evening, the members of TXT carried with them a newfound sense of optimism and the seeds of change that had been planted throughout the day—a departure from their old ways and a step towards a future filled with purpose, growth, and the unwavering support of a friend who saw the best in each of them.

Later, TXT gathered for dinner, the playful atmosphere lingered from the day's activities. Beomgyu, known for his mischievous side, couldn't resist the opportunity to stir things up a bit. A sly grin played on his lips as he exchanged knowing glances with the other members.

"So, guys," Beomgyu began, his tone deviously casual, "I've been thinking… Y/N is really cool, right?"

Taehyun and Soobin exchanged amused glances, fully aware of Beomgyu's mischievous intent. Huening Kai, always up for a bit of fun, nodded eagerly. "Yeah, she's pretty awesome. Don't you think, Yeonjun?"

Yeonjun, unsuspecting and caught up in the positive energy of the day, looked up from his plate. "Oh, definitely. Y/N is great."

Beomgyu, seizing the opportunity, leaned in with a mock-confessional tone. "You know, I was thinking… maybe I should ask her out."

The room fell into a sudden hush as everyone turned their attention to Beomgyu. Soobin, trying to suppress a smile, asked, "Really? Beomgyu, are you serious?"

Beomgyu, maintaining his poker face, nodded. "Yeah, she's just got this… I don't know, something about her. I can't help it. I think I'm falling for Y/N."

The words hung in the air, and Yeonjun's eyes widened in surprise. Beomgyu, relishing the moment, continued, "What do you think, Yeonjun? Should I go for it? I mean, you did say she's cool."

Yeonjun, caught off guard, stammered, "Uh, well, I mean, if you think you like her, go for it. It's not like I have a say in it."

The room erupted in laughter as Beomgyu revealed the prank. "Gotcha, Yeonjun! Just wanted to see your reaction. You should've seen your face!"

Yeonjun, a mix of relief and amusement, playfully rolled his eyes. "You guys are unbelievable. I can't believe you pulled a prank on me like that."

--

A year had passed since the transformative day when Y/N entered the lives of the members of TXT, bringing with her a mission of positive change and growth. Now, as they gathered in their shared space, the room resonated with a different energy—a sense of purpose, ambition, and the unwavering support of true friendship.

The boys had evolved into different versions of themselves, each actively working towards personal goals that reflected their newfound determination. Beomgyu, once the mischievous troublemaker, had channeled his creativity into a successful art venture. Taehyun, always the thoughtful one, had found fulfillment in pursuing a career aligned with his passion for helping others. Soobin, the natural leader, had taken on new responsibilities with grace and determination. Huening Kai and Yeonjun had both discovered their unique paths, each contributing to the overall growth and success of the group.

In the midst of these positive changes, Yeonjun and Y/N had found solace and strength in each other. Their connection had deepened over shared dreams, challenges, and a commitment to support each other's personal journeys. What started as a mission to change rebellious ways had transformed into a meaningful and loving relationship.

--

The night was calm, the city outside their window settling into a serene rhythm. Yeonjun and Y/N lay side by side in the dimly lit room, their conversations flowing seamlessly from one topic to another. The ambiance held a sense of tranquility, punctuated by shared laughter and the comforting hum of the city.

As they spoke about dreams, aspirations, and the little moments that had defined their journey together, the conversation naturally gravitated towards the topic that held a special place in both their hearts—their relationship. Yeonjun, with a sincerity in his voice, expressed, "You know, I never thought a simple mission to change our ways would lead to this. To us."

Y/N smiled, tracing patterns on Yeonjun's hand. "Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn't it? I wouldn't have it any other way."

They spoke of the challenges they had overcome, the growth they had experienced, and the unspoken understanding that bound them together. In the quiet of the night, their words became a shared journey—a testament to the depth of their connection.

As the conversation settled into a comfortable silence, Yeonjun leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, carrying the weight of shared experiences and the promise of many more to come. Pulling back, they exchanged smiles, their eyes reflecting a deep understanding that words couldn't fully capture.

With a tender embrace, they settled into the cozy cocoon of their shared bed. The city outside may have been alive with its own stories, but in that moment, the world narrowed down to the warmth of their shared space.

However, just as they began to drift into the quiet embrace of sleep, the door burst open with a bang. The room was suddenly filled with the blinding flashes of cameras, and confetti canons exploded, showering the room in a riot of colors. The members of TXT stormed in, each holding cameras and wearing mischievous grins.

"So, we heard you were having a moment," Beomgyu declared, camera in hand. "And what's better than capturing the lovebirds in their natural habitat?"

Yeonjun and Y/N, still recovering from the surprise, were met with the chaotic entrance of their friends. Soobin, Huening Kai, and Taehyun joined in the revelry, holding confetti canons and wearing party hats.

Beomgyu raised his camera, aiming it at the disheveled couple. "Say cheese! Or in this case, say 'sleepover!'"

The room echoed with laughter and playful protests as the unexpected sleepover took shape. Despite the intrusion, Yeonjun and Y/N couldn't help but join in the infectious energy. As the confetti settled around them, the room became a haven of shared laughter, friendship, and the enduring bonds that had blossomed amidst the chaos of their rebellious past.

And so, the night continued with impromptu celebrations, shared stories, and the kind of camaraderie that turned ordinary moments into cherished memories. The city outside may have slept, but in the shared apartment of TXT, the night was alive with the vibrant echoes of friendship and the warmth of a love that had blossomed against all odds.

[cherries-in-wine]

i challenge u to solve this--

A ball is thrown from the location (xo, Yo) = (0, 0) of a horizontal playground with an initial speed vo at an angle o from the +x-direction. The ball is to be hit by a stone, which is thrown at the same time from the location (x1, y1) = (0, L). The stone is thrown at an angle (18001) from the +x- direction with a suitable initial speed. For a fixed vo, when (θο, θ1) = (45°, 45°), the stone hits the ball after time T₁, and when (θο, θ1) = (60°, 30°), it hits the ball after time T2. In such a case, (T1/T2)² is.

Lmao I use Tumblr to escape my life but it haunts me everywhere 😔💔 here u go baby used a pink glitter pen and everything

[livewithyura]

Day 3 - FAMILY ( KAZUJUN ONE-SHOT FANFIC )

Prompts : Jin Just Got A for his mathematics test and now he's provoking kazuya to buy his silly little aeroplane

“Honey , I’m home!” Kazuya, holding a bouquet of flowers, opens the door in an attempt to charm his wife. He consistently discovered himself surrounded by a cozy ambiance, his presence always complemented by elegant items adorning the dinner table.Aware of his wife Jun's continuous effort, he always felt welcomed in their home, especially after facing challenges at the office.

 “MOOOOMMMYYYYYY”

   The calmness just got ruined after he realised that he has a son , a petty one . It’s not like he didn’t love his own son , but he's a little bit irritated by that kid . He often picks up an argument with his 5 year old son because he finds that enjoyable . At times, he feels the urge choke his son, and at other moments, he tenderly strokes his back, singing lullabies as he peacefully sleeps.

  Hm, every parent feels that..right?

    “Jin!” With an affectionate expression, she conveyed her words, embracing and hugging him with love.Meanwhile Jin’s small arm hugged his mom’s knee tightly. 

   “Welcome home , honey . I’m proud of you” She said , I looked at her cluelessly.

   “Proud for what?” I handed her the bouquet of flowers , and she accepted it with a warm smile.

  “You didn’t forget to bring Jin home! You always forget to pick him up!” She caresses Jin's fluffy hair , is that supposed to be a sarcastic compliment? Kazuya just scratches his hair with awkwardness. He breaks into a slight sweat when his wife speaks sarcastically, it's accurate that he consistently forgets to pick up Jin from kindergarten.He got a call from Jin's teacher often and after that he received a devilish stare from his son.

  

  “I know right….? I admit it! I was busy with paperwork while i’m in my office. I will make sure my mistakes will not happen again” He said , Jin regarded him with eyes full of distrust.

   They enjoy a delightful dinner, the three of them in a cozy little house. A simple meal and small talk suffice for their contentment.For Jun , it was a graceful moment . For an oblivious kid like Jin , It’s just a normal day in his life.For Kazuya , It was everything . He finally finds the daylight in his life , he tries to convince himself that this moment is real . The day he decided to settle down on everything after he defeated his father , that’s the day he finally came back from home.He promised to himself that he will never go back to his haunted life , he just wanted to continue his life in a small cabin with jun and his son .

   “What do you want to do this weekend jin?” Jun tries to create another conversation since the lovely day off will happen the next day . Jin placed a bite of rice into his mouth using chopsticks, and he glanced at his dad with a puffy cheek.

  “Nuh uh Jin.. finish that food in your mouth if you want to talk , I don’t want you to be a rude kid” Speaking in a calm tone, Jun runs her fingers through Jin's hair while playfully poking his swollen cheek with her slender finger.

  “I don’t have any idea yet…” Jin hums in question after he swallows the whole rice .

   “Good , I have an idea! How about you doing my laundry?” Kazuya raises his eyebrow with sarcastic demand.Jun waving her hand , a signal of ‘no’ to Kazuya . 

   “No” Jin promptly declined, shooting a displeased glare at Kazuya.

   “Why not? You and I ... we will go to the laundry service in the mall , there’s a playground there , go and play until you feel nauseous! Isn’t that fun?” Teas Kazuya, he gives a smirk in the direction of his son.

   

  "No! You left me alone on that playground while you went to the stadium with Uncle Paul to watch a football match!" Jin said , Jun and Kazuya left in silence, their expressions filled with shock as they looked at Jin.

  “You did that….?” Jun glared kazuya with anger , the anger that coated with calmness . There’s like fire in the water when Kazuya looked at his wife's expression.

   

  “No! He makes up stories honey! I swear to god!” Kazuya tried to hide the fact that he just left his own son in the playground until the mall closed . 

  “Hey! How about you rub my feet this weekend!” Kazuya try to change the topic 

  “Your feet stink….” Jin crossed his arm with disinterested eyes . The look on Jin’s face tickles Kazuya's heart.He simply wants to laugh, having successfully managed to irritate his own son.

  “I want to buy an airplane drone…” Jin confessed , Kazuya just scoffed at Jin’s demand . He continues to swallow the rice as he wants to explain something to his own son .

  “How much–

  “Didn’t I tell you Jin? You need to get an A for mathematics” Kazuya interrupted Jun with a firm tone.

  “I did get an A” . Jin pushes the tiny chair so his feet touch the floor , he runs to get his bagpack.

  Kazuya and Jun find themselves experiencing a range of emotions . Kazuya , shocked by the statement, is left with his mouth agape . Meanwhile , Jun attempts to conceal her tears of joy , feeling proud of Jin for achieving an A in mathematics at last.

  Jin approaches Kazuya and hands him his exam paper , Kazuya holds his breath and take it roughly . 

  “93!?” Kazuya’s in disbelief when he observes Jin's marks that are written on the top of the paper . 

  “Jin! I’m so proud of you!” Jun gave her son an applause with joy.

Jin’s winning smile start to looks like a smirk , Subtly indicating that he’s in the lead.The dynamics have shifted , now it’s kazuya who feels irritated.His intention was to agitate jin , but the tables have turned.And now he finds himself reflecting in his own mirror as Jin revels in the enjoyment of the moment.

  “Buy me an aeroplane drone dad!” Jin throws himself on Kazuya’s lap , Kazuya starts to sweat thinking about the price of the drone . He knows it will be over priced , He needs to save his money for the whole month after buying that stupid drone . Hence , He need to force himself to buy an americano instead of an almond latte with 50% of sugar.

   “Fine….” Unable to come up with an excuse , Kazuya just agrees with Jin’s demand.Deep down in his heart , He’s proud of his son’s achievement.He wants to give him a big hug as a present but Jin really wants that drone.

  “YEAH!!! JIN WILL GET A DRONE~ JIN WILL GET A DRONE~” Jin hums a song and dances around in the living room with joy.Kazuya continues to eat with frustration, well aware that his money will be gone tomorrow.

  Long story short , Jin wakes kazuya up at 8 in the morning to buy the drone . Kazuya almost forgot the important task he needed to fulfil.Kazuya is hurried through his morning routine by Jin, from eating breakfast to getting into the car and driving swiftly. The experience proves to be quite annoying for Kazuya.

  “DAD! DRIVE FAST! VROOM..VROOM”

  “I can’t do that! You want me to be in jail!?” Kazuya handles the car wheel with frustration.Jun just holds Jin’s wrist as she just chuckles at their behaviour.

   “Jin…we will arrive safe and sound , so please be patient” Jun just caresses her son’s hair .

   “Who cares if dad goes to jail? I want to fly my aeroplane!” Jin starts to imitate aeroplane sound as he imagines himself being a pilot , Kazuya gives jin a deadly glare as he thinks that the aeroplane is more important than his own father.

   “You little shit…” Kazuya whispers to himself .

  “Your total with tax comes to ....190 dollars and 99 cents” The words uttered by the drone seller send Kazuya into a state of shock , causing him to clutch his stomach while coughing.

    “EHEM! EHEM! WHAT!?” Kazuya is in disbelief as he attempts to verify whether his hearing is playing tricks on him.Jin just stood there , smiling as he can’t wait for that aeroplane to be his.

    “190 DOLLAR!?” It’s not just Kazuya , Jun also freaks out by the price.

    “FOR AN AEROPLANE!?” Kazuya interrupts by pointing at the drone with frustration.

    “It’s a limited edition drone , what do you expect?” The seller said , Kazuya looks at Jin’s face . He can’t be a dishonest person right now , he needs to fulfil his promise . He got an A for mathematics. It's not an easy job as a 5 year old kid.

  “Fine…” And again , Kazuya can’t make up an excuse .

  “Cash or Card sir?” The seller raised his eyebrow as he looked at Kazuya’s brown wallet.

  “CAAAAARDDD” Kazuya expressed his words with annoyance while Jin’s full of joy as the seller gave him the drone.

  “Wait….Where’s the controller and other accessories?” Jin tilted that box with confusion , Jun’s hand placed on his shoulder . 

  “Yea? I thought it was designed with the controller?” Questioned Jun as she looks at the seller , Kazuya smells something bad .

  “Oh , you need to pay for it” 

Those words send kazuya into despair as he knows that his money will be torn apart once again. Kazuya held his breath as he tried not to let his devil appear in front of that seller.

 “How much for all of that…?”

 “It would be 250 dollar and 34 cents” 

Once again , Kazuya grunts in frustration as he puts his debit card on the scanner.

  Time fast forward and Now Jin’s playing the aeroplane outside their house , Kazuya observes him from afar with frustration.He’s trying to accept the fact that he needs to drink a cheap americano in the morning . The worst part is he can’t go to the casino with Paul.

  “Hey bro! Let’s hang out!” He hears Paul’s voice on the phone.

  “No , I’ll pass…Jin has a football match…” Kazuya mumbles with frustration as he forces himself to lie to his rival.

Jin ran towards Kazuya as he controlled the aeroplane from the ground. He gave kazuya a small hug.

  “Look dad! The aeroplane can go above the tree!” Jin said while pointing towards the drone that flew above the tree.

  “Yea yea , I hope you can get a job and pay me 250 dollars” Kazuya said , Jun hears that sentence and she clears her throat with anger.

  “Uh I mean…That’s a nice aeroplane son!” He ruffles Jin’s hair gently . 

  “Jin, where's your allergy medicine that I gave to you?” Jun asked while putting a cup of tea on Kazuya’s table.

 “It’s in my backpack!” Jin said while turning around to face his mother.Jun just nodded with a smile as she entered the house to get her son’s backpack. 

  As Kazuya sips the tea , He is relieved that he is nothing like his father. He can express his love towards Jin, acknowledging that his heart is liberated from his father's control. He embraces his true self and aspires to be a better father for his son.

  “Jin what’s this…?” Jun approached both of them with a paper in hand, abruptly placing the backpack on Kazuya's lap. He was taken aback by the unexpected and somewhat unsettling demeanour of his usually sweet and delicate wife.Kazuya grabbed the paper from Jun’s hand.

  “This is your maths test! And it said 62!” Kazuya shoves the paper right in front of Jin’s face.

 “But I remember he gave us that paper and it said ‘93’!” Jun placed both hands on her waist as she looked at Jin with confusion.

  “Jin Mishima ....Explain this” Kazuya said with anger , Jin approached both of his parents delicately.

  “That’s my real test…I ask the teacher for extra paper and I redo the test..Then I ask my friend to mark it…And I showed you both the fake test ” Jin confessed while looking at his tiny feet.

  “Is there a cliff nearby?” Kazuya looked around 

  “KAZUYA!” 

  The silence is filled with dissapointment . They couldn't say any words towards their own son , they just looked at him with sorrowful eyes.

“I am really disappointed in you Jin…” Said Kazuya .

“Sorry dad…” Jin sobs .

“When you pulled a scam! You always destroyed the original evidence so you don’t get caught! How many times do I need to tell you!” Kazuya hit Jin’s head with disappointment.

  “Kazuya no….” Jun face-palm while listening to Kazuya’s lesson . 

[cyberpunkonline]

Sega Genesis: The Cyberpunk Playground of the '90s

In the era when pixels reigned supreme and neon-lit dystopias captivated gamers' imaginations, Sega Genesis stood as the edgy, rebellious counterpart to Nintendo's more family-friendly image. The '90s were a time when cyberpunk thrived on Sega's 16-bit console, offering players a glimpse into gritty, futuristic worlds filled with corporate intrigue, cyber-enhanced mercenaries, and high-speed sports. In this article, we'll delve into some of the iconic cyberpunk-themed games for the Sega Genesis that left a lasting impression on gamers. We'll explore Syndicate, Corporation, Speedball 2, Shadowrun, and two more gems that embraced the cyberpunk ethos.

1. Syndicate (1994)

The Future is Yours... For a Price

Slick Corporation: Syndicate takes you into a dystopian future controlled by mega-corporations. As a newly appointed Syndicate Executive, your mission is to expand your corporate dominion by any means necessary. The isometric view and strategic gameplay immerse you in a world of cybernetic agents and hostile takeovers.

Good Points: Syndicate's dark atmosphere and compelling narrative draw you into its morally ambiguous world. The tactical gameplay offers depth and challenge, and the cybernetic enhancements for your agents are a blast.

Bad Points: The graphics, while atmospheric, may feel dated today, and the controls take some getting used to. The difficulty can be punishing, testing your strategic prowess.

2. Corporation (1992)

Corporate Warfare Like Never Before

Neon Noir: Corporation takes place in a world where corporations rule with an iron fist. As a freelance agent, you're hired to infiltrate rival corporations, sabotage their operations, and seize control. The isometric view and real-time strategy gameplay make for a cyberpunk power struggle.

Good Points: Corporation's real-time strategy elements are engaging, and the cyberpunk aesthetic is on point. The ability to customize your agent's cyberware adds depth to the gameplay.

Bad Points: The difficulty spikes can be frustrating, and the lack of a tutorial can leave you feeling lost initially. The graphics, while serviceable, aren't as polished as some other titles.

3. Speedball 2: Brutal Deluxe (1990)

The Sport of the Future

Hyperkinetic Blitz: Speedball 2 brings cyberpunk to the sports arena. In this futuristic blend of handball and mayhem, you control a team of ruthless players in a fast-paced, violent sport. Upgrade your players, aim for the goals, and take down your opponents in style.

Good Points: Speedball 2's frantic gameplay is addictive, and the cyberpunk-infused stadiums add a unique twist to the sports genre. It's easy to pick up and play, making it a great multiplayer option.

Bad Points: This game has no bad points ;)

4. Shadowrun (1994)

Magic Meets Technology

Urban Fantasy Noir: Shadowrun combines cyberpunk with urban fantasy. Set in a dystopian Seattle, you play as a shadowrunner, a blend of hacker, mercenary, and spellcaster. The game is a unique mix of role-playing and adventure, where your choices shape the narrative.

Good Points: Shadowrun's rich storytelling and open-ended gameplay provide an immersive experience. The fusion of technology and magic adds a fresh layer to the cyberpunk genre.

Bad Points: The learning curve can be steep, especially for those new to role-playing games. The interface can be clunky, and the combat can be challenging.

5. Ecco the Dolphin (1992)

A Cybernetic Dolphin's Odyssey - you ain't trippin' hear me out...

Underwater Adventure: Ecco the Dolphin may seem like an odd choice, but beneath its serene surface lies a subtle cyberpunk narrative. Ecco, a time-traveling dolphin, must navigate a future Earth ruled by an alien machine intelligence. The game's beautiful visuals and haunting music create a unique atmosphere.

Good Points: Ecco's atmosphere and storytelling are captivating, and the underwater world is a joy to explore. The game's puzzles provide a good challenge.

Bad Points: The difficulty can be frustrating, and some players may find the non-linear gameplay confusing. It's not a traditional cyberpunk game but offers a different take on the genre.

6. Herzog Zwei (1990)

Mechs in the Metropolis

Real-Time Strategy: Herzog Zwei blends cyberpunk aesthetics with real-time strategy. You control a transforming mech, leading armies to conquer the battlefield. Strategic thinking and resource management are key to victory.

Good Points: Herzog Zwei's unique blend of action and strategy is addictive. The multiplayer mode is a blast, and the cyberpunk-inspired environments are visually appealing.

Bad Points: The controls can be challenging to master, and the learning curve is steep. The lack of a tutorial may leave you feeling overwhelmed at first.

In the '90s, Sega Genesis carved a niche for itself in the cyberpunk gaming landscape. From strategic espionage in Syndicate to futuristic sports in Speedball 2, these games transported players to dystopian worlds filled with intrigue and innovation. Whether you were hacking into corporate databases or leading a team of ruthless athletes, the Sega Genesis had something for every cyberpunk enthusiast. So, dust off your console, and immerse yourself in the neon-soaked, cyber-enhanced adventures of the past. The '90s may be long gone, but the cyberpunk legacy of Sega Genesis lives on.

Raz

[diavolo-is-babygirl]

Obey Me: Shall We Date Male MCs? Male MC Lore (in a DiaLuci universe)

Introducing Willis Valentine:

Willis, a young man once steeped in the quietude of academia, was an unlikely candidate for the chaotic underworld.

A beloved professor of history, his life was a predictable rhythm of lectures, research, and the gentle hum of intellectual pursuit. That was until tragedy struck, shattering his world into a million pieces. The pain was a constant, a phantom limb that throbbed with a dull ache. Desperate for escape, he found himself inexplicably summoned to the Devildom.

His confidence, once a sturdy vessel, has been battered by storms of grief and uncertainty. He is a young man haunted by shadows, his heart a fragile thing that yearns for connection. Yet, amidst the chaos, a flicker of hope ignites. A fascination with the enigmatic Barbatos, a being of unparalleled elegance and grace, blossoms into a secret, tender crush.

• Introducing Ekene Fair:

Ekene Fair is a whirlwind of energy, a young man whose laughter is as infectious as his smile.

A nurse by profession, he possessed an innate empathy that drew patients and staff towards him like moths to a flame. His life was a tapestry woven with threads of compassion and care until a harrowing incident on the job shattered his world.

The trauma, a dark undercurrent, lurks beneath his cheerful exterior, a constant reminder of fragility and mortality. Yet, Ekene was a survivor, his spirit refusing to be broken.

When the enigmatic summons arrived, plucking him from his familiar world, Ekene met the challenge with a characteristic blend of curiosity and fearlessness. The Devildom, with its bizarre inhabitants and surreal landscapes, is a playground for his adventurous spirit. But more importantly, it's a chance to escape the confines of his painful past. And by his side is Willis, a new friend, a young man he's destined to protect the Devildom with.

(And both were made with a Picrew.)

[jonathanbyersphd]

Hi hello, it's me again, happy WIP Wednesday here's what I have for my Bylerween fic so far I hope you like it:

For the record, Will thinks this is a terrible idea. And when his step-dad eventually comes to arrest them all he’ll say that he wanted no part in it, that all he wanted was to go out with his friends, he thought the worst thing they’d do was maybe smash some pumpkins but they'd be back at Mike's by nine playing D&D in the basement. 

B&E was nowhere near his Halloween plans. Yet, here he is outside the Old Creel house as Eddie Munson is regaling them with the story of the house's alleged ancient curse. He doesn’t believe in curses, he’s way too old for that, but he can’t deny there’s something odd about the Victorian. It’s almost like it’s watching him. The thought sends a shiver down his spine. Mike leans in closer and Will tries not to think about how beautiful he looks.

“You okay?” he asks in a low tone 

“Yea fine, just cold” Will answers 

Mike pulls off his leather jacket, holds it out for Will with a nod.

“No, thanks though” Will

“You sure?” Mike questions

“Yea”

They’re sitting on a derelict swingset in a park across the street. The hellfire club is gathered for their own ritual. When Eddie finishes with storytime he expects each of them to explore the house by themselves. After all, according to Eddie they can’t possibly survive the intensity of Dungeons & Dragons if they’re afraid of a little house. Will’s not sure how those two things are the same but he didn’t say that. Besides, Eddie promises that this is the last thing they’ll have to do to become official Hellfire members. But he’s really only here because Mike is here. Now that he’s paying closer attention, Mike also looks pretty disinterested in what Eddie has to say, twisting around on his seat and smiling to himself. It’s probably because they’ve both heard this story before, on Halloween night ages ago. And frankly, Jonathan told the Creel story better or maybe it was scary because he was nine. Eddie’s dramatics are too childish for what should be a somber tale.

“And then when Old Man Creel realized what he had done. He plunged the ax into his own chest ending his bloodlust” Eddie recounts with a theatrical flourishes, acting out Creel’s alleged final moments

“That’s not how I remember it” Mike snarks in a whisper before Will can say anything. 

Will snickers, and Mike beams at him. 

“Something funny Wheeler" Eddie interrogates 

"No not at all"  Mike lies, and Will has to hold back his laughter. 

"Great. Now as I was saying, Legend has it that Old Victor still haunts his once peaceful home searching for another victim to sink his ax into" Eddie finishes with an expression that Will guesses is supposed to be frightening but seems more cartoony than anything.  

"That's disturbing" Dustin shudders 

“It's bullshit”’ Will exclaims

“Oh really?” Eddie challenges 

Next to him, he can feel Mike tense slightly, readying himself to defend Will. 

“Yea really” Will continues “It was the kid that snapped and murdered his whole family”

“That’s where your wrong Byers” Eddie roars 

“Are you sure Will?” Lucas asks from his spot on the playground

“Yea, Jonathan said it was the kid” Will insists 

“Hate to break it to you pipsqueak but there’s no way a twelve year old could do that” Eddie laughs and the rest of his club joins in. Dustin, Lucas and Mike don’t move a muscle and Will is grateful for it. 

Will doesn't tell Eddie that once when Jonathan was twelve he hit Lonnie so hard with a baseball bat that he passed out just to protect him. For reasons unknown to him, Eddie doesn’t like Jonathan. Which is enough of a reason not to like him in Will’s book. But Mike, for whatever reason, worships Eddie. And he loves Mike. So now he’s forced to sit with Eddie at lunch, participate in the Hellfire Club, and be in this stupid,cold park listening to a fake story. And the only other reason he puts up with it is because at least they’re playing DnD again. But he’d much rather be in Mike’s basement with his friends playing video games and lamenting how they’re too old to go trick or treating. 

“Jonathan says that place isn't anymore haunted than the lab outside of town” Mike chimes in and Will perks up as Eddie rolls his eyes

“Didn't they used to do MK ultra experiments?” Dustin questions

“That's an urban legend, dummy” Lucas answers with a shove. 

“Well Byers” Eddie starts “Since you clearly aren’t afraid why don’t you go first” he goads 

“Fine” Will shrugs, getting up. 

Will can feel Mike watching him but he really doesn’t mind going first the sooner they get this over with the sooner he can go home. He picks up a flashlight from Lucas, passes a smirking Eddie and makes his way across the street. He hops up the stairs onto the porch, he can hear muffled talking from in the park but doesn’t think much of it as he pauses at the door. It, like everything else about the house, is old. Someone attempted to board it shut but it’s long since been pulled away. No doubt by some other mischievous teen fulfilling a dare to impress their friends. 

Will finds himself mesmerized by the stained glass window displaying a bright rose. Unlike the rest of the windows of the house, this one hasn’t been cracked or chipped away at. He wonders if it’s been reinforced somehow or if Hawkins kids, as obnoxious as they were, were at least sensible enough not to destroy the artwork. He reaches out for the doorknob and turns, but it doesn’t budge. Will scoffs at himself for thinking it would before bracing himself to knock the door in with his shoulder. 

“Will wait up” Mike calls, catching up to him

“Thought I was supposed to go alone” Will responds cynically 

“Oh c’mon what kind of guy would I be if I let my best friend get murdered by a ghost” Mike jokes 

Friend. The word linger in the crisp night air and Will hates himself for focusing on it. He convinces himself that he’s imagining the slight rose creeping into Mike’s cheeks. 

“Yea” he nods softly, turning his attention back to the front door. 

“Together?” Mike suggests 

“Together” Will agrees, as they both shove the old door open.