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edenesth · 7 months ago

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Scarlet Requiem

Pairing: emperor!Baekhyun x empress!reader

AU: historical au (Goryeo era)

Word Count: 4k

Summary: In his reign, Baekhyun strived to be a virtuous emperor, all for the sake of his kind-hearted empress, steadfastly resisting the temptations of power that had corrupted those before him. He held onto the belief that this was the key to securing her eternal presence by his side. Yet, he learned, to his heartbreak, that this very resolve would lead to the cruellest loss of all.

Genre: heavy angst

Trigger Warnings: major character death, violence, gore, lots of blood

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Capture that demon before she flees!"

Her hands trembled as she gazed at her reflection in the ornate gold mirror. Once healthy skin now bore a sickly pallor, brown eyes turned crimson, tears staining her cheeks red. Even her jet-black hair had transformed to snowy white. Confusion and fear gripped her as she struggled to comprehend the inexplicable transformation.

As guards roughly seized her arms, she pleaded, "No, please! I've done nothing wrong! I don't understand any of this!"

"Of course, you'd deny it, Your Imperial Majesty," sneered the Minister of Rites, one of many who had urged her husband, the emperor, to accept their daughters as concubines. "Little did you know, those potions you received from the royal healer for the past month were meant to reveal your true nature by shedding your human guise."

Horror pierced her heart as realisation dawned. The tonics meant to maintain her health had been a ruse. She had been poisoned, it explained the sudden and alarming changes in her body and health.

"You," she whispered, the weight of the truth settling heavily upon her. "It was all you."

She was not naive; she understood the ministers' discontent with her influence over Baekhyun throughout his reign. Their persistent attempts to sway him, offering their daughters as concubines to bolster their own power and threaten her position, had not escaped her notice. Their frustration must have reached its zenith when her husband adamantly refused their advances, steadfast in his commitment to her as his one and only empress.

"Hm? I'm not sure I understand what you're implying," the man smirked, his deceptive tone belying his words. "We've long suspected there was more to you, Your Imperial Majesty. It appears you're indeed a demon, effortlessly manipulating the emperor. Surely a man of his stature would desire more than one woman by his side?"

Struggling against the guards' grasp, she retorted weakly, "You vile cowards. You'll rue the day my husband learns of this..."

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, revealing their sinister plot. They had bided their time, seizing the perfect opportunity amidst the chaos of war. With Baekhyun, the virtuous emperor she had wished him to be, leading the army, they saw their chance to poison her, framing her as a demon to eradicate her while he was away.

"Or perhaps we'll witness the rise of the ambitious emperor we've long awaited. He will finally be able to reach his full potential without you here obstructing his path," he sneered, gesturing towards the approaching healer with another bowl of poison. "Just comply and drink your tonic, Your Imperial Majesty. Your suffering will soon end, and our nation will thrive under the rule of a new emperor, liberated from your naive ideals."

As the sinister men tightened their grip, she sobbed in agony, the relentless headache from the past month resurfacing with a vengeance. Each touch felt like a dagger through her skull, each word a cruel reminder of her plight.

With an apologetic bow of his head, the healer cupped her jaw, his hands trembling as he forced the bowl of poison towards her lips. "Forgive me, Your Imperial Majesty," he whispered, his voice trembling with remorse. "This will be the last one, I promise."

She gagged as the bitter liquid slid down her throat, burning with each swallow. Crimson tears streamed down her white face as she choked on the vile concoction, feeling her strength wane with each passing moment. In that desperate moment, all she could do was pray for salvation from the nightmare consuming her.

As the healer finally released his hold, she felt despair engulf her. The bitter poison settled within her damaged insides, coursing through her veins like a silent killer, slowly consuming her from within.

"It is done, my lord. The empress will not survive through the night," the healer declared, his voice carrying a finality that chilled her to the bone.

The minister's grin widened with satisfaction. "Excellent. Arrange for someone to confirm her death by dawn. Let her enjoy her final moments in the comforts of her own chambers. His Imperial Majesty will surely be grateful we've rid him of his treacherous demon of a wife upon his return from war."

Laying limply in the centre of her grand chambers, the very space she had once despised before ascending to empress, memories flooded her mind. She recalled the scepticism that clouded her heart when she first found herself falling for the crown prince of the nation. After all, history had taught her that no happy endings awaited the women who loved emperors. But Baekhyun was different—he was loving, caring, and considerate, going to great lengths to prove his devotion to her.

He swore never to take concubines, to resist the allure of power, and to remain hers, and hers alone. Despite the admiration of the entire nation, he remained committed to prioritising her above all else, even if it meant drawing the ire of his ministers and officials. Their accusations of his partiality towards his empress over his nation only served to strengthen his resolve, his unwavering loyalty to her.

But now, as she lay weakened by poison, she realised the tragic irony of his goodness. It was his very commitment to righteousness that led him to the battlefield, refusing to let his men fight in his stead. And it was this decision that ultimately sealed their fate, leaving her to face the consequences of his noble intentions.

As the darkness closed in around her, she couldn't help but wonder how Baekhyun would react upon returning to find her lifeless form in this state. Would he succumb to the poisonous words of his ministers, believing their accusations that she had been a demon all along? Would he entertain the notion that she had bewitched him, clouding his judgement and leading him astray?

Or would he remain firm in his loyalty, unwavering in his belief that this was nothing more than a cruel ploy to rid him of her for good? In the depths of her fading consciousness, she desperately clung to the hope that he would see through the lies, that his love for her would prevail over doubt.

On the brink of death, she yearned to trust in his endless devotion to her, to believe that he would never doubt the love they shared. It was a fragile hope, but in that moment, it was all she had to cling to as she slipped further into the darkness, awaiting the inevitable arrival of dawn and the fate it would eventually bring.

"Forgive me for not being strong enough, Baek," she whispered into the stillness of the chamber, her voice barely a breath against the heavy silence. "Please don't blame yourself for any of this."

As the darkness threatened to swallow her entirely, she couldn't help but reflect on the warnings of history, the cautionary tales of women who loved emperors, only to meet tragic ends. Once again, it seemed, she had fallen victim to the same fate.

Her vision blurred with crimson tears as memories flooded her mind—moments shared with Baekhyun before he departed for battle, blissfully unaware that they would be their last. Each memory stung with bittersweet intensity, a painful reminder of what could have been, had fate been kinder.

As her life ebbed away, flashes of cherished moments with him flickered through her mind like scattered stars in the night sky.

Wrapped in the warmth of silk sheets, doubts clouded her mind one morning, questioning her husband's resolve to remain faithful amidst the pressures of his position.

"Would you truly refuse to take any concubines, Baek?" she inquired, her voice laced with uncertainty. "You're aware that the ministers and officials desire it, and perhaps even the citizens of our nation. For all we know, the people might have grown weary of this same dull empress who has yet to bear you an heir."

He drew her close, pulling the silk sheets higher to shield her bare form from the chill seeping through the open windows. Pressing a tender kiss upon her head, he smiled reassuringly. "Never, my love. I do not care for their political machinations. I won't forsake my vow to you. You will remain my only wife, that is final. I did not ask to be emperor, the role was thrust upon me. Now that I am here, they should at least be grateful I am fulfilling my general duties."

She chuckled, nestling into the crook of his neck as he added, "Besides, if the ministers and officials are so displeased, they could just dismiss me. That would be even better; we could live in a quiet little village, just as we've always dreamed."

In another memory, standing before her reflection, plagued by insecurities instilled by the scheming ministers, his unwavering admiration melted her fears away.

"You look beautiful, my empress. You always do," he reassured, approaching from behind to envelop her in his arms.

"Not as beautiful as those young maidens, I fear. I am old," she confessed, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness after witnessing the ministers' attempts to seduce the emperor with their daughters.

Baekhyun gently turned her to face him. "If you're old, then I must be ancient," he teased. "I believe it's only fitting that I am with someone my age, and that's you, my empress. I have no interest in marrying children or anyone else for that matter; I am a taken man. Don't you dare compare yourself to anyone else again, you hear me? You're the most beautiful woman in my eyes, and that's all that matters."

In the final embrace before he departed for war, hearts heavy with the uncertainty of his return, they clung to each other.

"I will be back before you know it, my love. You'll wait for me, won't you?" her husband murmured against her neck, his arms tightening around her.

"Where else would I go, you idiot? Of course, I'll be waiting right here," she retorted, tightening her hold around his shoulders.

Amidst tears and laughter, he leaned in to kiss her deeply, pressing his lips against her soft ones over and over again to imprint the sensation into memory.

"I love you, my empress," Baekhyun whispered against her lips before pulling away, his eyes full of love and determination.

In the quiet of her chamber, she found solace in the fleeting recollections, clinging to them as the darkness threatened to consume her entirely. And as the crimson tears clouded her eyes once more, she resigned herself to the inevitable, silently bidding farewell to the life she once knew.

"I love you too, my emperor."

"I will not ask again, where is she?!" the emperor's voice thundered through the throne room as he stormed back into the palace, abandoning the battle upon learning the shocking revelation. According to the Minister of Rites in his letter, the empress had been discovered to be a demon all along, concealing her true nature under human skin to manipulate him and bend him to her will.

The eunuch panicked and fell to his knees. "Th-the empress is confined to her grand chambers, Your Imperial Majesty!"

Without uttering another word, Baekhyun stormed over immediately, his heart thumping loudly against his chest as fury overtook his being. Betrayal flooded his veins; he was seething with anger.

"You will regret lying to me," he growled under his breath, his vision zeroing in on the path towards her chambers, the place he frequented more than his own. "You will regret deceiving me."

Upon reaching the entrance of her chambers, he turned to the eunuch. "Gather all the ministers and officials who played a part in discovering the empress as what they claimed her to be in the throne room. I wish to speak with them soon."

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," the eunuch hurriedly replied before darting off to carry out his orders. Baekhyun steadied his breaths, his hand resting on the door as he prepared to face her once more. Under his breath, he vowed, "I swear, you will all regret it. How dare you accuse my wife of being what you are—demons."

I'm here now, my love.

Stepping into the familiar room, the emperor's heart raced with anxiety as he mulled over a perfect apology. He needed to express his deep remorse for not being there when she needed him the most, for failing to shield her from the treachery of those vultures. Reflecting on his actions, he realised he should have never left her behind. In his rush to leave for war, he had neglected to arrange proper protection for her. In hindsight, he understood that he should have never left her side in the first place.

Determined to make amends, he vowed to do better. He resolved to never again allow those ministers or officials the opportunity to torment her in his absence again. From now on, he would be her shield, her staunch protector, and her unending support.

But it might be too late for any of that.

His steps faltered, his breath caught in his chest, and his heart skipped a beat as he beheld the sight before his eyes. The sword in his hands slipped, clanging loudly as it hit the ground, and he sank to his knees in disbelief at the last thing he expected to see.

His shock deepened as he took in his wife's unrecognisable appearance. Crawling towards her limp form on the ground, he pulled her into his arms, his voice trembling with anguish. The horror settled within him like a heavy weight as he tried to imagine what atrocities these monsters had dared inflict upon her while he was gone. His mind raced with images of torture and torment, each one more gruesome than the last.

"Oh god, what have they done to you?" he whispered, his heart fracturing into a million shards as he struggled to comprehend her pale skin, her white hair, and the blood-like tears staining her cheeks. With shaking hands, he gently cupped her cold cheek, his fingers tracing the contours of her face as if seeking reassurance that she was still there, still his beloved wife.

"Please wake up, my love. This isn't funny, stop scaring me," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "You promised to wait for me. You promised..." His words trailed off into a broken sob as he refused to accept anything but the truth, shaking his head in denial even as he searched desperately for a pulse, even when she remained unresponsive.

"No, no, no... this can't be real. It can't be," he murmured, his mind reeling with the unimaginable horror of what he had found.

Despair and regret enveloped him as he sobbed painfully, holding her lifeless body tightly against his chest. The realisation that she was truly gone, that her final moments were spent alone in the very room she despised just to be with him, weighed heavily on his heart. He grappled with the bitter truth that he had failed her, just as she had feared when she hesitated to be with him.

Gradually, his sorrow gave way to seething rage as he recalled the faces of the ministers and officials responsible for this atrocity. They had callously taken her life, foolishly believing he would be deceived by their feeble attempt to frame her. With trembling hands, he picked up a shard of the shattered bowl nearby and brought it to his nose, recognising the metallic scent of mercury.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

They had poisoned her with lethal doses of mercury, causing a myriad of symptoms—tremors, headaches, muscle weakness, kidney damage, and breathing difficulties. And the deliberate administration of such high doses to turn her hair white revealed their sinister intent from the outset.

Just how much had they fed her? It was evident they had intended to kill her from the start. Anguish and fury surged within him as he vowed to make them pay.

Gently caressing her cold cheek, he leaned in to kiss her unmoving lips, his own trembling against hers. He blamed himself for everything that had transpired. Perhaps if she hadn't been with him, she would have lived a better life—a normal life with a normal man. She wouldn't have to endure such a painful and cruel death.

It was all because of him.

Regret hung heavy in his heart, but dwelling on what could have been served no purpose.

"I'm so sorry, my wife," he whispered, his voice thick with grief. "Just hold on a bit longer, alright? I'll join you soon, but first, I'll make those bastards pay. Wait for me—I won't let you face this alone. Not again."

With resolve hardening in his heart, he retrieved his sword and sheathed it once more before lifting her lifeless form into his arms. Like a man burdened by death itself, he trudged towards the throne room where justice awaited. Kicking the doors open with a forceful thrust of his leg, he was met with a sea of horrified expressions from the ministers and officials. Clearly, they hadn't anticipated the emperor's dramatic entrance, cradling his beloved empress in his arms.

Ignoring their shocked gazes, he strode past them, his eyes fixed on the throne at the far end of the room. With careful tenderness, he laid his wife down upon the ornate seat, arranging her robes and ensuring her comfort as though she were merely sleeping. Pressing a solemn kiss upon her cold forehead, he turned to face the assembled council, their unease palpable in the air.

The guilty culprits remained frozen in their places, uncertain of what awaited them.

As the emperor's gaze swept over them, the ministers and officials for the first time felt a cold shiver of fear trickle down their spines. His expression was unreadable, his appearance wild and dishevelled compared to his usual polished demeanour. Specks of blood and dirt stained his robes and skin, his hair a tangled mess, half tied up in a disarray that mirrored the chaos within him.

Gone was the warm smile that often graced his features; instead, a slow, unsettling grin crept across his face.

"My dearest ministers and officials," he began, his voice low and laced with an eerie calmness. "Your message has been received loud and clear. I hope you're satisfied now that you've succeeded in eradicating the empress, as you so desperately desired. I've given it some thought, and perhaps... you were all right."

The Minister of Rites, attempting to feign nonchalance, cleared his throat. "A-about what, Your Imperial Majesty?" he stammered.

Baekhyun's eyes gleamed with a frightening intensity as he smirked, his demeanour bordering on madness. "About what this nation truly needs," he replied, his voice carrying a chilling edge.

"Not a good emperor, but a mad one."

Without giving the men before him time to register his words, all Baekhyun saw was red. In a split second, he unsheathed his sword and transformed into a bloodthirsty animal, cutting down anyone and everyone in his path. The Minister of Rites tried to flee but to no avail. He watched in complete horror as his colleagues dropped dead one by one, their blood splattering over the grand walls of the throne room, their screams echoing.

The emperor went on a rampage, leaving no man behind. The Minister of Rites, who had been behind the idea of poisoning the empress, smearing her name by labelling her a demon, and executing her, was now filled with regret. They had turned him into the mad king his empress had feared. Perhaps they had finally achieved their goal, but it wasn't what they were prepared for.

The minister collapsed to his knees before the emperor, realising that His Imperial Majesty had saved him for last. Trembling, he rubbed his hands together in a desperate plea. "P-please, everything I've done, it's for the betterment of our nation."

Baekhyun's humourless laughter echoed through the hall, sending shivers down the minister's spine. "You truly believe that, don't you? Of course, that includes subjecting my wife to all that torment. Yes, because that is exactly what the nation needs. Unfortunately for you, I am the emperor, and I determine what's best for the nation. And in this case, I think it's better off without traitors like you. See you on the other side," were the last words the minister heard before his head was severed from his neck, rolling off to join the others on the floor.

The emperor finally turned back, his eyes softening as they landed on his beloved's lifeless body. Making his way back towards her, he knelt down beside her, tears streaming down his face as he reached for her hand. Holding it to his cheek, he missed the warmth it once had.

"I'm coming now, my love," he whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry you had to wait for so long. I'll be there with you soon."

"Yes, I understand His Imperial Majesty's orders not to enter, but it's been hours. Surely, any assembly would have concluded by now, wouldn't it?" With apprehension and curiosity, a senior court lady pushed open the doors to the once-bustling throne room, expecting to find His Imperial Majesty and his council of ministers. Instead, she was met with a horrifying sight—a scene of bloodshed and chaos spread across the grand hall.

Her piercing scream echoed through the silent room, jolting nearby palace staff into action. Rushing to the scene, they were met with a scene that chilled them to the bone. At the end of the room, amidst a sea of lifeless bodies, lay the empress on the throne, her appearance shocking all who beheld it. Beside her, her husband remained, his head cradled on her chest, their hands tightly clasped together. A gaping stab wound marred his chest—it seemed he had taken his own life before joining her in death.

Following that, the next prince in line promptly ascended the throne and found himself compelled to appoint an entirely new cabinet of ministers and officials. The entire nation descended into chaos, particularly since it was still embroiled in a war, with endless theories circulating about the events. While some speculated that the emperor succumbed to madness and killed his own council, others whispered of a conspiracy, suggesting that the ministers had orchestrated the demise of both the empress and the emperor.

Amidst this uncertainty, the new prince faced the daunting challenge of restoring order to the kingdom. With a heavy heart, he pledged to uncover the truth behind the tragic occurrences and ensure that justice was served to those responsible.

In the end, the truth of what truly occurred remained shrouded in mystery. All those involved had departed from the realm of the living. As centuries passed, that chapter in history became known as the Scarlet Requiem, a haunting tale that lingered in the collective memory of the kingdom. Despite countless efforts to unravel the enigma, the events surrounding the tragedy remained obscured by the sands of time, leaving future generations to ponder and speculate about the dark secrets of the past.

"What do you think really happened?" a woman asked her boyfriend as they studied a painting depicting the throne room scene in a museum dedicated to the events of the Scarlet Requiem.

He pondered for a moment before responding with a shrug. "It's hard to say. But judging by the way he's holding onto her, it seems he must have truly loved her. Let's hope they've found peace and happiness, whether in the afterlife or their next life."

She nodded in agreement, leaning into his comforting embrace. "Yeah, I hope so too."

He flashed a mischievous grin. "I'm just saying, if I were him, I wouldn't have left her for war in the first place."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful smack, though a smile danced on her lips. "I'm sure you wouldn't. I bet it's because the empress was described as beautiful as a celestial being."

He scoffed. "Doesn't matter to me how pretty she was. I'll stay only if you're my empress."

Unbeknownst to them, the couple had been contemplating their own past lives. Perhaps the emperor and empress had indeed found each other again in another existence.

Believe it or not, this has been on my mind for months ever since seeing those AI-generated photos of Baekhyun. I had an epiphany while looking at them again yesterday and just had to write this. It's my first EXO fic, and I hope it's decent hehe~

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Master Tag list:

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @green-agent @vantediary @tinyteezer |

@hollxe1 @pandabur666 @lilactangerine @oddracha @evidive

#edenesth #exo #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #byun baekhyun #exo baekhyun #historical au #goryeo dynasty #baekhyun x reader #exo fic #baekhyun oneshot #exo oneshot #kpop angst #exo angst #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun angst

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estrellami-1 · 2 months ago

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Anything

Trigger warning: discussions of death. Not a main character, but it does happen. Lots of angst. Lots of hurt/comfort. I’ll post it in the tags as well.

Steve has a problem.

It’s not a big problem, not really, but his brain won’t let it go and is making it a bigger deal than it really is.

Eddie won’t ride in his car alone.

With the kids, sure; he’ll practically dive into the backseat, noogie Dustin, generally make a nuisance of himself.

But if it’s just the two of them? If Steve insists on driving, Eddie will take his van. There’s no problem if Steve wants to ride with Eddie. But the other way around? Eddie riding with Steve? That doesn’t happen. And Steve has no idea why.

“Talk to him, Dingus,” is Robin’s advice. He’d flip her off, but unfortunately he thinks she’s right: this is something they’re gonna have to talk through.

So Steve pulls on his big-boy pants and marches himself to the Munsons’ trailer, knocking on the door and waiting expectantly.

He doesn’t expect Wayne, but maybe he should’ve, because that’s who answers the door. “Hi, Steve. You’re here for Eddie, I bet, he’ll be in his room.” He moves aside to let Steve in, and Steve thanks him after a second before moving down the hall to Eddie’s room.

He hears him before he sees him; or, more accurately, he hears his guitar. He’s playing the acoustic tonight, instead of his usual sweetheart, so Steve knocks instead of walking in like he’d usually do.

The guitar stops, and Steve hears it being put down, hears a heavy sigh. “Wayne, I’m not really in the- oh.” He opens the door as he speaks and blinks at Steve. After a second, he smiles. “Hey, man, c’mon in.”

Steve blinks. “Uh. Are you okay?”

Eddie purses his lips. “Define okay. I’m not currently being eaten by bats, y’know? But playing the acoustic always reminds me of my Ma.”

“Ah.” Steve shifts. “Sorry, man. Maybe I should come back later.”

Eddie shrugs. “You’re here now, aren’t you? I can’t be that terrible company.”

Steve snorts. “No, I just… I had a question, but it can wait.”

Eddie tilts his head. “You do that a lot, y’know?” He turns, sits on his bed. Motions Steve into his room.

Steve sits next to him, more comfortable here than in his own room. “Do what?”

“Put yourself last.” He shrugs. “You can ask me. If I don’t wanna answer, I won’t.”

Steve scrunches his nose. “Okay, fine. Why won’t you ride in my car?”

Eddie frowns. “I do, though? Hell, I did what, two days ago? You, me and Dustin went to that comic store in Indy.”

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why won’t you ride passenger in my car, alone? Without any of the kids? And even two days ago you were in the backseat with Dustin.” He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal, I’m just curious.”

Eddie takes a breath. “No, it’s- yeah. You should know.” He clears his throat, grabs the acoustic again. Plays a riff of some sort, fingers dancing over the frets. “I think I feel like I have to save everyone. Or at least be in a position where I can save them, if the need arises.” He swallows, takes another breath. His fingers still. They tremble over the strings. “Did I ever tell you how my ma died?”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to inhale sharply. He shakes his head. “We can stop,” he says. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Eddie smiles ruefully. “I do, though.” He shakes his head. “I was… I was six. It was three days before my seventh birthday. We were driving home from the city. Ma was drivin’, an’ she let me sit in the front seat, since it was almost my birthday. Or- that’s what she said. I think it was so we couldn’t stop her. Couldn’t save her.” He swallows. His eyes are glassy. His accent is thick, the way it gets when he’s thinking about her, or when he’s emotional. His left hand grips the neck of the guitar tightly. Steve worries for his fingers. “We weren’t goin’ that fast, even, but forty’s enough when-” he shakes his head, looks away. Coughs out something that wanted to be a sob. Steve takes the guitar, takes Eddie’s hand. Puts the guitar down. Doesn’t let go of Eddie. “She unbuckled her belt. Dad didn’t see it. I did. Didn’t say anythin’. Maybe I should’ve, I dunno.” He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Then it all happened so fast… she smiled at me, an’ opened her door, an’ next thing I knew-” he wipes at tears on his cheeks. “D’you know what happens to a human head under the wheel of a car at forty miles an hour?”

Steve gasps, grips Eddie’s hand just as tightly. Pulls Eddie in when he begins to shake. “An’ I know why, now,” he whispers. “Dad weren’t good to her. I’unno what he done t’her. I know she did what she could. But I was there. I was right there.” He sniffles, trembles with the effort of keeping his sobs in. Somehow succeeds. “So that’s why. Figure if a kid were to try… I could stop ‘em. Figure if you were to try…”

“You could stop me.” Steve holds him tight. “I won’t,” he whispers. “I swear to you, I won’t.”

“I know,” Eddie whispers back. “But I gotta be able to try.”

“Christ, Eds,” Steve whispers. “I was gonna ask if you’re okay but that’s a stupid question.”

Eddie giggles, still teary-eyed. “Just a little bit.”

Steve pulls away to look him in the eye. “I’m staying tonight, okay? Nightmares are always worse after something like this.”

“Then you should go home,” Eddie argues. “Sleep while you can.”

“Nightmares are always easier with someone else.”

“Damn you, that’s true.” They both laugh a little.

Just then, Wayne comes in with two steaming mugs. “Listen to your boy, son,” he says to Eddie, handing over one of the mugs. He gives Steve the other with a wink. “Lavender tea with a shit ton of honey. Learned it from my ma.”

“Not my boy, Wayne,” Eddie grumbles, but thanks him for the tea anyways.

Steve thanks him too, and he winks again before leaving. Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’d apologize for him, but you’d just defend him.”

“Hey, I like Wayne.”

“I know. Sometimes I think you like him more than you like me.”

Steve chuckles. “Never. You’re my favorite.” He moves so they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, drinking their tea, leaning against each other. It’s peaceful, and soon enough Eddie’s yawning and dropping his head onto Steve’s shoulder. “Imma pass out soon.”

“Then let’s get you up to brush your teeth before you do.”

Eddie groans like the toddler he secretly is. “I don’t wanna.”

“Yeah, and you don’t wanna go to the dentist to get teeth pulled, either, now do you?”

“Shuddup.”

“Wow. Real master of words here. Really feeling that Dungeon Master power.”

Eddie thumps his arm, but snickers, and really that’s what Steve was going for in the first place, so he just smiles and leads Eddie to the bathroom.

Soon enough they’re in bed, tucked in next to each other, not quite packed like sardines and it’s only because of the heat outside that Steve isn’t more upset not to have more of a reason to touch Eddie. “Night, Eds,” he murmurs, smiling when Eddie rolls over to face him and is temporarily blinded by his own hair. Steve helps move his hair, grabs at Eddie’s hand when he’s done. “Wake me up if the nightmare doesn’t, okay?”

“C’mon, Steve, I can deal with them-”

“I know you can,” Steve answers. “But I want to be up if you are. I want to help if I can. Please, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs after a second. “Damn you,” he says, “I can’t say no to you.” He’s smiling, despite his words, so Steve smiles back.

“Thank you.”

“G’night, Stevie.”

“Night, Eds.”

Steve wakes up to Eddie crying out in his sleep. Even with his eyes closed, he’s got tears streaming down his cheeks. Steve sits up, turns on the lamp, and puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie?”

He rolls over, away from Steve, and continues sobbing. “Eds? Are you awake?” No answer, so Steve puts his hand back on Eddie’s shoulder and shakes a little. “Eddie, wake up!”

He’s up with an aborted yell and a flail of limbs, sitting up and staring into the darkness of his room, trembling. He sniffs and turns to face Steve, finally realizing he’s there, and Steve opens his arms for a hug.

He collapses into Steve’s arms, face mashed into the side of Steve’s neck, arms snaking around Steve’s torso to give an ineffectual tug. Steve takes the hint and inches closer until they’re practically hip-to-hip. “Y’wanna talk about it?” He asks. Eddie sniffs and shakes his head. “Y’want me to talk? To distract you?” Eddie nods. “Okay. Uh… I may have bitten myself in the butt with this one, ‘cause I’m not a great storyteller, not like you are, but did you know we actually met in middle school?”

No answer. “We did. Hawkins Middle was putting on its annual talent show. Now, back then, I was nobody. No one knew me, my name, my parents… nothing. I had one friend named Tommy, who I’d grown up with. Of course, you know him, and you know what happened between us, but he was my only friend back then. I didn’t tell anyone, but I signed up for the talent show. I didn’t even know what I wanted to do, I just knew I wanted to do something. I’ve always had a pretty decent voice, so I figured I could just sing, if I couldn’t figure out anything else to do. Knew I’d at least beat out Tammy Thompson.” He shifts so Eddie’s hair is no longer a choking hazard and pets his hand over Eddie’s head, doing his best to tame the wild curls. “So it’s the night of the talent show, right? And it feels like the whole school is there. I’m sitting backstage, peeking through the curtains, and am about to have my very first panic attack. Someone bumps into me and knocks me over. They tell me to watch where I’m going, even though I wasn’t moving. So now I’m on the ground, thinking about the crowd, and the noise is getting to be too much, and someone grabs my hand and it all… stops. Just like that. It’s silent, other than, like, a ringing sound in my ears. And this boy, the one who grabbed my hand, kneels in front of me, puts my hand on his chest-” Steve demonstrates, moving so he can grab Eddie’s hand and put it on his chest, just over his heart. “-and tells me to breathe with him. In, out. In, out. He raised his hand when we breathed in, and lowered it when we breathed out. In, out. In, out. And when my breathing’s calmed down, he tells me to name five things I can see. And you know what I said first?”

Eddie furrows his brows. “My… my hair?”

“Yup,” Steve nods. “But you’d just had it shaved off, so d’you know what I really saw first?”

“What?”

Steve giggles. “Your ears.”

Eddie groans and ducks his head, pressing his forehead into Steve’s chest. “Hated my ears.”

“I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound mean, but is actually a compliment,” Steve warns him. “Your ears reminded me of Dumbo. I always loved that movie, the reminder that we don’t have to change who we are in order to be loved. That sometimes the things we hate most about ourselves, the things people tease us about the most, are actually the things that help us most, in the end.” He guides Eddie to lay down. “And I’m not saying your ears are what saved you. But I am saying they reminded me that everything, maybe, isn’t entirely hopeless.” He smiles, tucks Eddie’s hair behind his ear. Says, “I like your ears.”

Said ear burns red. “You’d be one of the few.”

“That’s okay.”

“What’s your thing? Your… ears?”

Steve hums. “Did you know I cried a lot as a kid? I was very emotional, very easily moved. My dad always hated it, so I learned to cover it up. But I think it’s what got me here in the end. I could’ve told Dustin I didn’t have time to help him, but I didn’t. I got roped into this whole mess, but it’s how I got to know him and the kids. It’s how I got to know Robin and you.”

Eddie smiles. “I’m glad you cried as a kid.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah. Me too.” He shifts, a little closer, a little more down the bed so their eyes are level. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing I want less.”

“D’you think you can sleep?”

Eddie takes a breath. Steve feels the exhale over his cheek. “Maybe.”

“M’kay. Lemme know if you can’t.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“Eddie.”

He giggles. “I’m kidding. I’ll let you know. I just… won’t stop talking at you until you answer.”

Steve hums, lets his eyes slip shut. “I’ll always answer.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, so soft. It makes something warm unfurl in Steve’s chest. “I know you will.”

Steve reaches out, squeezes Eddie’s hand in answer. Lets sleep drag him down the way it’s wanted to since he lay back down.

He doesn’t think about the fact that their hands are still clasped.

He’s the first one up in the morning, and he’s a little annoyed by it because they’d shifted during the night, so Steve is no longer facing Eddie.

His annoyance lasts for all of two seconds before he realizes there’s a warm weight behind him and over his hip, and he figures out it’s because Eddie is behind him, arm over Steve’s hip, fingers curled against the little bit of skin visible from Steve’s shirt riding up during the night.

Steve smiles, sighs, and lets his eyes sink shut again.

He doesn’t sleep, just kind of drifts, so he feels it when Eddie wakes up. He feels him tense in a stretch, feels his forehead press against Steve’s spine, feels his fingers curl farther into Steve’s stomach.

He feels Eddie wake up fully and realize the position he’s in. Feels him hum, then stiffen, slowly pulling away. Steve aches about it, but doesn’t move until he’s out of bed completely, taking the time then to roll over as if he’d just woken up. “M’rn’n,” he mumbles, not exaggerating the sleep-rough in his voice at all.

“Mornin’,” Eddie yawns. “How’d you sleep?”

Steve hums, stretches, sits up. “Think I should be asking you that.”

Eddie smiles. “I slept fine. Now how about you?”

“No more nightmares?”

“Not at all. Think you chased ‘em all away.”

“Good.”

“Steve.”

“What?”

“How did you sleep?”

“Oh. Fine. Great.”

Eddie hums, but takes his word for it, offers his hand to help Steve up, which he accepts.

“Can I ask you something that I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna want to answer?”

Eddie grins crookedly. “You can ask me anything, Stevie. If I don’t wanna answer, I won’t.” He sits back on the bed, next to Steve. “What is it?”

“What was your dad like?”

Eddie blows out a breath, looks away. “Jesus, first thing in the morning, too. Uh… y’know how you said your dad is a grade-A asshole?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Last I heard, he’s in the state prison for the next… five? Ten? Years. I dunno, don’t really keep track. Was just little things at first, petty theft, then he got an ego and started stealing cars, met a guy who could clean ‘em, and he just…” he shakes his head. “Wayne says he got too big for his britches. I say he got what was coming to him. He tried to rob someone and it… didn’t go well. He got caught, the owner tried to scare him off, swung first, but it doesn’t matter who swung first when he’s dead and my dad was trespassing, right? Tried to say it was self-defense, but…”

“But he was trespassing,” Steve nods.

“Exactly. He got twenty-five for that, and it’s been… twelve years? So I guess he’s got… thirteen left. Not five or ten. Guess it feels like he’s been gone that long.” He sighs. “I went to live with Wayne before that, though… I had a friend, he was my best friend, and my dad… really didn’t like how close we were. Spit out a couple’a slurs, said something about sending me to a camp.” Steve’s breath catches. “I called Wayne that night. Poor guy drove that night, was there by… one in the morning? Picked me up and I’ve never looked back.” He shrugs, picks at his comforter. “Turns out Dad was right about me, but Wayne’s never had an issue, so.” He shrugs. His fingers belie his nerves.

“I think, if I were to ever tell my dad,” Steve says quietly, “a camp would be the least of my issues.”

Eddie’s fingers still for a second before continuing, not fidgeting quite as quickly as before. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to tell him.”

“I think I do, though.”

“How so?”

“He’s got this… way. Of just proving himself right, every time. It’s why I haven’t left yet. He always finds a way to twist it around and show me I can’t make it on my own. Not on my Family Video salary.”

Eddie hums. “Maybe not on your own,” he admits. “But with a person or two? There’s Family Videos in other cities. Ask to transfer. Robin’s been making noise about heading to Indy, right?”

“I think she just wants out of Hawkins, and Indy is the only feasible place to her.”

“Very understandable. Where would you go, Steve? If you could go anywhere?”

Steve sighs. “That’s the problem, though. I can’t leave the kids.”

Eddie chuckles. “I should’ve known. Then why not find a place in between? Maybe on the edge of town?”

“We’re still both on a Family Video salary. I don’t think even combined we could afford anything.” Steve tilts his head. “You said a person or two. Who’s the other person?”

“Ah,” Eddie says. “Well, not to come between the platonic soulmates, but I’m sure Wayne would love to have his life back.”

Steve snorts. “Robin loves you almost as much as I do, Eds, of course you’re welcome.”

Eddie ignores that, for the sake of his own sanity. “Well,” he says instead. “Maybe it’s time to take a crack at those newspapers Wayne’s been hoarding.”

“Maybe it is,” Steve says, a strange sort of smile playing across his lips. “And I can ask people. You’d be surprised at the amount of gossip I hear at work.”

“Oh, I believe it, trust me. Or are you forgetting I use to hang around Sam Goody?”

“Oh, god,” Steve laughs, “I had forgotten that, yeah.” He sighs. “D’you think we would’ve been friends back then? If we’d known each other?”

“I don’t think so.” Eddie chews at his bottom lip. “Not because of you, but because of me. I was still stuck in that high school hierarchal shit, y’know? I would’ve seen you as an asshole jock even though you weren’t anymore.”

“I think I’m still working on it.”

“I think we’re all working on being who we want to be.” He stands and offers Steve a hand up with a grin. “And y’know what helps with that?”

Steve chuckles, places his hand in Eddie’s. “What’s that?”

“Pancakes,” he says decisively. “C’mon, let’s go bully Wayne into making us some.”

“And by bully, you mean ask once.”

Eddie hums. “Same difference.”

He waltzes into the living room, arms spread wide. “Sir Wayne! Our visiting prince has requested pancakes this fine morn.”

Wayne squints at him. “I’m your king, dipshit,” he says, lip quirked up in a smile as he winks at Steve. “Make your own damn pancakes.”

“Wayne!” Eddie cries. “Betrayal! Betrayal of the highest order!”

“You’ll live,” Wayne deadpans. Steve giggles.

Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne. “Fine,” he says. “We will make our own. But there shall be no extra for you, sir!”

Following him to the kitchen, Steve says, “We’ll make extra.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Wayne returns, “but I’d ‘preciate it.”

In the kitchen, Eddie sighs with his head halfway in a cabinet. “Okay, so we don’t have mix.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says. “I can make them from scratch.”

“Or,” Eddie says, turning to Steve with a grin. “We can go out.”

“We could,” Steve allows. “But then Wayne wouldn’t get any.”

Eddie hops backwards onto the counter and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Y’know how I said we wouldn’t have been friends if we’d met earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“It really would’ve been entirely my fault.” He sighs. “You’re just… so nice. And it would’ve been unbelievable, for me, because the Munson Doctrine dictates that all jocks are assholes and stay jockish assholes. I think what happened… had to happen, if we were gonna be friends.”

Steve worries his lip. “Then… is it bad if I say I’m glad it happened? If only for that reason?”

“Only if I’m also glad it happened, for that reason,” Eddie responds quietly. “Y’know the only other person I’ve told about my ma is Jeff?”

“I’m…” he pauses, scrunching his nose. “I wanna say I’m honored, but that sounds weird.”

Eddie chuckles. “I know what you mean, Stevie.”

Steve nods, and they stay there for a minute, looking at each other, until Steve looks away with a sigh. “Alright,” he says, pancakes?”

Eddie gusts out a sigh. “Please.”

Steve chuckles and shoves the flour towards Eddie. “Here. Two cups.”

Eddie frowns. “Only?”

“For now. We can always make more later if we need to.”

Eddie shrugs, but nods at Steve, as if deferring to his expertise. “D’you have eggs?”

“Uh.” Eddie checks the fridge, then the cabinet. “No, but we’ve got Spam?”

Steve snorts. “That works. Wanna cut up a can and fry it?”

“Works for me.”

And so they work, side by side, until breakfast is ready and they’re all three eating side by side.

After, Wayne stretches in his seat, glances at the clock, and mutters something underneath his breath as he gets up. “Thanks for breakfast, boys. Steve, you gonna be here for dinner?”

“Uh,” Steve says, glancing at Eddie. “Unless Ed kicks me out.”

“Never,” Eddie swears.

“I’ll pick up burgers on my way back,” Wayne decides. “That work for you two?”

“Definitely,” Eddie nods.

“Sure. Thank you, Wayne.”

“Son,” Wayne starts, then shakes his head.

Steve gets the message: he belongs here. His cheeks burn. “Thanks, Wayne,” he murmurs.

Wayne ruffles his hair as he passes.

“So,” Eddie asks, once it’s just the two of them. “Any plans for the day?”

Steve makes a face. “I gotta work at two, but I’m free till then.”

Eddie snorts. “Lemme guess, you’re working alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Well not today!” Eddie says brightly. “Why don’t I come with?”

Steve blinks. “Because… why would you?”

“Cause you’re my friend, Stevie. I wanna hang out with you but I can’t do that if you’re at work and I’m here.”

Steve snickers. “I guess we can talk about moving in together. Tuesdays are always the slowest day of the week.”

“Yeah! Wayne’s got the papers around here somewhere.” He trails off, looking around, then bounds over to the TV with a triumphant, “Ha!” He reaches into the crate the TV’s sitting on and pulls out a stack of newspapers. “Okay, we don’t want anything from last year… beginning of this year might be too old…” he hesitates, looking at Steve. “Maybe since Spring Break? A lot of people moved out.”

Steve hums, moves closer. “Good point. There’s bound to be something on the edge of town.” He sighs as he sits next to Eddie. “The only problem is Robin doesn’t have a car, or even her license. And if I’m working here, and she’s trying to work in Indy, how’s she gonna get there?”

“Well,” Eddie begins, “who says you have to stay at Family Video? Why not stretch your wings out? Try something else? Indy’s a big city with lots of opportunity. How about this.” He shifts so he’s facing Steve. “If you could do anything in the world, work anywhere, what would you do? Where would you work?”

Steve fidgets with his pant leg as he thinks. “A bakery,” he decides softly.

Eddie stills for a moment. “I feel like I should’ve seen that coming. You’d be a great baker, Steve. Or if you want to just sell the baked goods, you’d be great at that, too. Hawkins is small enough we don’t have need for a bakery. Not when you can get everything you need at Melvald’s. But Indy’s big. I pass by two bakeries every time I head into the city.” He puts a hand on Steve’s knee. “Stay at Family Video for now. But when we move, you can apply to those places. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. He can feel his cheeks heating up, feel the excitement coursing through his body. “You really think I could?”

“Steve.” Eddie sighs. “I think you are so much better than you see. I think you can do anything.”

“I dunno about anything.” Steve ducks his head as he blushes. “But, uh. Thank you.”

Eddie smiles. “For?”

Steve looks up at him. His breath catches, for a second, at the look in Eddie’s eyes. He looks away with a shrug even as his cheeks heat up. “Believing in me, I guess.”

“Anything,” Eddie promises again.

Steve looks at him again. Really looks, even as his cheeks heat uncomfortably warm. “…Anything?”

Without looking away, Eddie grabs his hand. Rubs his thumb over Steve’s knuckles. Whispers it again.

Steve leans in and kisses him.

Eddie kisses back.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #starambles #tw character death #cw character death #I’m imagining Eddie goes to Family Video with Steve that day and eventually puts on a vest another employee had left there #He does more work than Steve #Except for when the old ladies who hate Eddie on principle come in #Eddie finds out Steve can out-bitch them #He falls more in love #He does in fact have to excuse himself to the back after that. Yes they kiss about it later #I literally googled ‘human head getting run over at 40mph’ and I think the FBI agent in my phone is officially Worried #Oh well. He knows I’ve seen worse #Also in case you were wondering. I couldn’t find any concrete answers. But I got Enough #No beta we die like Eddie’s mom apparently????#(Too soon?)

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olderthannetfic · 2 years ago

Photo

Warnings in general weren’t a thing in a lot of these spaces. Sometimes, people would be mad about things that were permanent like character death, but trauma followed by a happy ending just wouldn’t have made that list a lot of the time. I don’t believe romance novels were relevant. The lack of a concept of trigger warnings was. (The actual term seems to hail from the mid 00s, for example, though obviously, warnings existed prior to that.)

The biggest change was the advent of tags existing.

Technologically, they’re not a thing on the old internet, and metadata tends to just be sparser in general. Some fic archives did start to have some filtering, but it was pretty basic and varied a lot by space.

Keep in mind that for much of the 90s, the shape of a fic archive was a hard-coded html page or maaaaybe that X-Files FTP site. They looked fundamentally different from the more recent type where you upload things yourself and you can edit in a WYSIWYG interface.

I think the main driver of internet metadata is generally porn, and I don’t mean fandom. I mean commercial porn. This is likely a big driver for being able to sort anything at all by tropes. I couldn’t point you to exact moments that moved tech forward though.

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misojunnie · 1 month ago

Text

TRUTH & JUSTICE 𖣂

those who sin, must repent.

brothers jay and heeseung had always been the sweethearts of the school. heeseung; devilishly handsome, the brawn of the operation. and jay; stoic but sweet tempered, the brains. there was something mysterious about them; it’s what generated the obsessive fans. you’d always wondered why they never took interest in the girls who hysterically chased them—but you’d soon find out.

pairing: brother!heeseung & brother!jay x fem!reader (ft. sunghoon)

genre: horror, psychological thriller, somewhat inspired by girl from nowhere

warnings: violence, death, character death, substance use/drug dealing, bullying, all the characters are kinda evil (sorry), this one’s a little triggering!!, not really a romance, enha’s behavior and personalities are not reality, it’s just a story

featuring: enhypen + mentions of txt

playlist: la femme ressort by la femme, is this real? by lisa hall, after all by alex g, cocoa hooves by glass animals, the perfect girl by mareux, tonya suite by peter nashel, mount everest by labrinth

word count: 13.0k

taglist ! @enhacolor @jwnghyuns @theothernads @adoredbyjay @firstclassjaylee @dollschan @enreveriee @surrik-i @jwonistic @laurradoesloveu @laylasbunbunny @tmtxtf @shixna606 @kumiwon @heeaxvhhoon

network tags: @kflixnet @kvanity-main @k-radio @enhypennetwork

see the trailer.

a/n: erm…sorry y’all...I kinda hate this... I actually spent so much time on this one and it's SO LONG too T-T but I hope y'all enjoy regardless, and look forward to more of fright night coming soon!

Everyone wants to think they’re a good person.

It’s in human nature to crave goodness. To delude yourself into thinking, regardless of your actions, that you’re pure of heart. This is incorrect.

The truth is that most humans aren’t pure. The scale of good and evil tips to the latter in most cases. Everyone has sacrificed something, someone, to get to where they are. Everyone has hurt someone to get what they want. If you have, you’re a human. If you haven’t, you’re a liar. The real question is;

What are you willing to sacrifice?

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You had really, really, fucked up.

In fairness, your life hadn’t exactly been easy lately. It hadn’t been easy since you started high school, and it all began when you met Choi Yeonjun.

A long time ago, Yeonjun was your friend. The two of you had been practically inseparable, spending your time at the arcade, the beach, loitering at school. Then, something changed in him. He was distant and cruel. He joined a group who lived off hurting other people, skipping class and smoking cigarettes in the alley behind school. Suddenly, you didn’t matter to him anymore. More than that; you were his main target.

Your life became a tangled mess of violent arguments, name calling and stalking, brutal fights, and cartons of milk tossed on your head. You couldn’t go a day without being taunted, laughed at, cigarettes put out on your hands or your books. And every night, you’d come home crying, laying in your bed until the sweet embrace of sleep took you away from all of this struggle.

Eventually, your brother Soobin had enough. You wouldn’t tell him what was going on, but he could sense it. He saw the burns on your arms and the tears in your eyes when you walked through the door every day at 4:00.

One day, you came home silent. You wouldn’t talk, you would only cry tears with wide, traumatized eyes. You didn’t speak for days afterward.

Like you said, you had really fucked up.

After that, he fought violently with your parents to get you out of that god forsaken school. They didn’t care what you were going through, and they didn’t want to spend the money to transfer you somewhere new. But Soobin loved you, and despite the fact that he hadn’t made much money since he had left home, he spent the rest of savings to switch you to his alma mater.

Decelis High School.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You quickly realized that Decelis wasn’t a normal school. The minute you walked through those iron wrought gates, you felt an overwhelming sense of doom. Darkness. You had always had an extremely acute intuition, and it was overwhelmed with the repressed emotion of this school.

“Oh, thank God you’re normal.” you heard a voice speak, and you turned, your hands in your pockets. It was a boy, with short, blond hair and a chipper smile. “When the prez sent me to tour you, I thought you must be a loser.” You frowned.

“Yeah, thank God.” you mumbled sarcastically, but he didn’t seem to pick up on it, just reaching his hand out in a friendly handshake.

“Kim Sunoo.” he said, and you shook his hand reluctantly. You didn’t like him very much, with his toothpaste-ad-smile and blunt attitude. “Nice to meet you.”

“Y/n. Pleasure.” you responded, and he dropped your hand. “So, are you gonna tell me about the school or just stand there?” He grinned.

“You’re funny. I think we’re gonna be friends.” You hoped not. He led you by the arm, to your displeasure, first heading towards the courtyard.

It was a beautifully designed school, with mosaic crests on the floors of the hallways and ceiling lamps that looked like they were from the 1800s. Despite your conflicted feelings towards the school already, you were curious about it. “This is the courtyard.” he gestured at the milling students walking across the cobblestone and grass. He pointed to two boys by a fountain at the center. “Those are my friends, I’m sure you’ll meet them later. That’s Riki, and Jungwon’s the student body president.” He looked around, before leaning in. “Huge stoners,” he whispered, and you raised a brow.

“Do you have any actually useful information for me?”

“This is useful!” he exclaimed, offended. I’m giving you the full rundown on Decelis High School. Trust me, knowing about boring things like where the nurse’s office is isn’t gonna help you get through the year. This is.”

“Agree to disagree.” you muttered, but he didn’t hear you. As much as you were grateful to have a friend, if you could call it that, this boy was getting on your nerves. Something behind you caught Sunoo’s attention, and his eyes widened in delight.

“Oh, God. This is your first big lesson at Decelis High.” You turned around.

Two boys walked in your direction. One taller, red haired, his posture slouched with his hands in his pockets. The other slighter shorter, his hair jet black and standing ramrod straight. They looked like a perfect pair. The rest of the students around them were practically oozing adoration as they walked past, smiling kindly at everyone who addressed them, their fans practically in hysteria.

You felt paralyzed. You had no idea who these boys were, but you were suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to run away, to flee from them. You had never had such an adverse reaction to another person before, and you weren’t sure why this was happening. You stood, pupils dilated and shoulders trembling, vaguely aware that Sunoo was asking you something, but unable to respond. You wanted to run, but you were lost in a trance, unable to move.

Two pairs of dead eyes latched onto you, and as the boys walked past, not once did they break eye contact. You felt the depth of their stare, you felt them reading your soul. In your mind flashed images of blood, the sound of a scream, memories you had buried deep down, and you weren’t sure why they were arising now. When they left your sight, you could breathe again.

“What was that?” Sunoo scoffed, and you shook your head, tucking your hands back into your pockets. “I guess you froze up, huh? That’s the average reaction.”

“Who were those guys?” you asked, still shaken by your brief interaction.

“Jay Park and Lee Heeseung. They’re brothers, well, half brothers anyway. Everyone adores them.” He crossed his arms smugly. “Seems like they have a new fan.”

“I don’t like them.” you said, your voice practically a whisper.

“Yeah, that’s what they all say at first.” Sunoo waved you off, and you looked at him sharply. “C’mon, let’s go see the cafeteria.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You sat with Sunoo and his friends at lunch. You attempted to explain that you didn’t mind sitting alone, but he insisted. Nobody should be alone on their first day, he said, but you weren’t convinced.

Jungwon and Riki were nice. You found them more tolerable than Sunoo, but that might be because they were more quiet. The only thing you didn’t trust about Sunoo was that he was a walking gossip train. And you had quite a few skeletons in your closet that you didn’t want anyone knowing about.

“So y/n, what was your old school like?” Riki asked, chewing on a forkful of food. You looked up abruptly, the burns and cuts on your arm beginning to itch, and you scratched them under the table.

“Oh, y’know. An average high school.” you brushed off the question. “Same teenage assholes everywhere.” Riki chuckled.

“You’re funny.” You wondered why everyone was saying that about you. You didn’t actually think you were very funny at all. “Do you miss your friends from your old school?” Your stomach was turning.

“Not really.” you said lightly, attempting to be as casual as possible. “I didn’t have a lot of friends at my old school. Well, not at the end, anyway.” The table went silent at that, suddenly awkward. You cleared your throat, attempting to ease the tension.

“Well, I think you’re nice.” Jungwon said, and you gave him a tight but grateful smile. “I’m sure you’ll make a lot of new friends at Decelis. It’s a big school.”

“Definitely.” you said, but you weren’t sure if you believed it. You rested your chin on your palm as the three boys discussed something you had no interest in. You wondered if the entire year would be like this, and strangely, you missed Yeonjun. Not the fucked up bully that you had grown to hate; you missed your best friend.

You felt a sharp pain on the back of your head, and you turned to see two pairs of eyes on you. Jay and Heeseung stared with unrelenting heat at you, before turning away in unison. You trembled. You didn’t trust the brothers, not one bit. There was something strange about them, something that the rest of the school refused to see.

Your old school had been hell on earth, but in a confusing, messed up way, you felt safe there. Despite what you went through, you never considered your school to be an evil place. It was an average school, filled with the cruel and unusual behavior of average teengers. It was in the nature of a high schooler to be cutthroat, you always knew that. But there was something more at Decelis than the typical childlike malice.

You felt something dark here. Like a threatening presence lurking in the corners of the hallways, skulking around the courtyard.

And you knew you weren’t safe at your old school, but you had a feeling you weren’t safe here either.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Academics had always been easy for you. The work wasn’t the hardest part of school to you; the social aspect was a bigger issue. But you were hoping for a fresh start in that department.

You decided to take Psychology. It had always interested you, but they didn't offer it at your last school, and you never had the chance. Here, you were excited to learn something new. You walked into the classroom, and all eyes landed on you in the way they do when a new student walks in. You swore you heard a cat call from the corner of the room as you walked to the teacher, and you rolled your eyes.

“Ah, the new student.” your teacher said, smiling. “You can sit in that seat, by the back.” She gestured to an empty desk in the second to last row, next to a friendly looking boy, who waved enthusiastically.

He was brunette, with the kindest eyes you had ever seen. There was something inexplicably warm in his smile and demeanor, and you found that you immediately felt safe in his presence. You thanked God that you had finally been put in close proximity with someone who seemed trustworthy.

“I’m Jake.” he said, holding out a hand, then immediately regretting it and brushing back his hair, which made you stifle a laugh. “You’re the new kid?”

“Y/n.” you responded, holding out a hand, which he chuckled at and shook kindly. “Today’s my first day.”

“Oh, you poor soul,” he joked. “It’ll get easier.”

“It hasn’t been hard.” you said, removing your hand from his.

“Oh. Then I suppose it’ll get harder.” he said with a smile that didn’t match his statement, and you smiled in return. You liked Jake rather immediately.

“Is it that bad?”

“Not so bad, I suppose.” he glanced at the sleeve of your shirt, which had rolled up to reveal three circle shaped burns on your forearm. You rolled it back down insecurely. “Can I ask how you got those?”

“Cigarettes.” you replied bluntly.

“Wow. How’d that happen?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” He immediately retracted, a sheepish expression on his face as he strummed his fingers on the desk self-consciously.

“Sorry, that was rude. People tell me I talk too much.” You laughed. He smiled again, and his smile was like a warm ray of sunshine. You immediately felt calmer in his presence, and you wondered if he had this effect on everyone.

“It’s okay. People tell me I don’t talk enough.” He grinned at that, before your teacher gave a pointed, icy look at your table, and you both went silent, exchanging furtive, amused glances.

“Hey.” he whispered when the teacher looked away. “You should have lunch with me and my friends sometime. I know what it’s like to be the new kid.” It made sense. You sensed the accent on his tongue immediately upon meeting, and felt a genuine kindness in his offer that was compelling. So you agreed.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

It seemed like everyone liked Jake as much as you did.

As he walked down the halls, he garnered waves from just about everyone, bright smiles and chipper greetings as he kindly reciprocated every gesture sent in his direction. Hello’s and how are you’s resounded through the hall as you walked together, your hands shoved deep in your pockets. You wondered how Jake had so easily transitioned from an unknown new kid to a world class heartthrob.

Another thing you noticed was that everyone was kinder to you in Jake’s presence. Before, nobody had really noticed you, and if they did, they didn’t say anything. But now, it seemed like the student body had collectively agreed you were worth paying attention to.

“The new girl is so pretty.” you heard a girl whisper as you strode past, and you stifled a smile.

“Think she’s single?” a boy responded. You tried to tune out the compliments, but you had been deprived of kindness for a long time. It made you feel good to be loved.

“They like you.” Jake whispered, his voice low to avoid eavesdropping.

“Thank God.” you responded, relieved, and he smiled at that.

It seemed like Jake actually cared about you. He wanted you to feel welcome, likely because he went through the same process, and he knew how hard it could be to be friendless in a new environment. And you were more than grateful for that.

Again, you felt the stare of those dead eyes before you saw them, and you turned to see Jay and Heeseung walking behind you. You flinched at their presence, wondering how they had gotten so close without making a sound. Jake noticed your shift in attention, and turned around as well, a bright grin overcoming his face.

“What’s up guys?” he said, the three men greeting each other in friendly handshakes. “Have you met the new girl? This is y/n.”

You desperately didn’t want to talk to them, but it seemed you had no choice. They looked at you in unison, and you wondered if they did everything at the same time. It was as if they were linked by more than blood, by consciousness.

“Hey.” they said, also in unison.

“Nice to meet you.” you mustered a reply.

“Pleasure’s all ours.” Heeseung said, and Jay nodded along, both of them standing with their hands in their pockets, Heeseung slouching and Jay with his stiff posture, as usual. “I hope the school’s being kind to you.”

“So far, so good.” you said nervously.

“Y/n’s gonna have lunch with me today. You’re welcome to drop by.” Jake said sweetly, and they looked at each other, before they both smiled, somehow darkening the room even with a bright grin on their handsome faces.

“We’d love to.”

You were nervous for lunch today. Before, your only worries had been Sunoo blabbing your ear off; but there was something much more nefarious happening.

Yesterday, you were nervous, but today something bigger was happening, you could sense it in the background of every furtive glance and dark smile. Something bad was going to happen today. Your gut was telling you, and your gut was rarely wrong.

“Sunghoon, meet y/n.” Jake said, gesturing to a dark haired boy who was seated under a large willow tree on the border of the courtyard. “She’s new here.”

“So I’ve heard.” he said, assessing you with sharp eyes before looking back down at his lap. He had a large piece of parchment sitting on his legs, a brush covered in dark ink in his hand. He was practicing calligraphy, and the beauty of it contrasted his ugly demeanor. “Charmed.”

You felt a strange energy from Sunghoon. He was Jake’s complete opposite; cold, frightening, and with eyes full of ice and disinterest. He didn’t seem like the kind of boy Jake would be friends with, but then again, you didn’t know much about Jake at all.

“Hi.” you finally responded, and he looked up again, raising a brow.

“Are you having lunch with us?”

“Be nice, Sunghoon.” Jake warned with a pointed look. He turned to you. “Sunghoon isn’t good with strangers, but he means well, I promise.” Sunghoon glared at his friend, who smiled innocently. “He’s actually just shy.”

“I’m really not.” Sunghoon replied sharply, turning his attention back to his calligraphy. You weren’t sure if he made you amused or anxious. Jake sat down under the shade of the tree and patted the spot next to him, so you sat.

Lunch was peaceful. The majority of it, anyway. You and Jake chatted, and Sunghoon gradually warmed up, if only slightly. In the last ten minutes of your break, he started joining the conversation, commenting casually as he stroked his brush across the ink stained paper.

It was nice. Too nice, because you were inevitably interrupted.

The brothers skulked towards you, each in their neatly ironed uniforms with morbid expressions, and you sighed reproachfully. You knew the day was going too well.

“How’s it going?” Jake said brightly, gesturing for them to sit down.

“Just groovy.” Heeseung replied, and you scrunched your nose. You hadn’t heard someone say the word ‘groovy’ since the last time you watched a movie from the 80’s, which was a long time ago. “Hey, y/n.”

“Hey.” you responded, surprised that he addressed you. They both sat down, not next to Jake as he had gestured, but across from you instead.

“How’s school been?” Jay asked inquisitively.

“It’s been fine.” You were curious as to why they wanted to know, but you attempted to brush it off. You still felt extremely stiff in their presence.

“Making friends? Spilling secrets?” Heeseung continued, and you raised a brow.

“I suppose.” He smiled, a toothy smile that you certainly didn’t trust.

“That’s good. It’s nice to meet people you can be vulnerable around.”

“Being vulnerable is good.” Jay added. You found their behavior strange, but Jake and Sunghoon didn’t seem to share your concerns, Jake just listening attentively while Sunghoon continued with his calligraphy. You seemed like you were the only person who found them off putting, and you wondered if you were being paranoid.

“Well, we’re always here if you want to share some war stories.” Jay commented, the two of them simultaneously readying themselves to leave.

“Sorry we can’t stay,” Heeseung apologized. “We have to make it to the locker rooms before class starts.”

“Do you play a sport?” you asked before you could think. They both smiled.

“No,” Jay said. “We just clean up.” And with that, they were gone, walking down the grass, drowned out by the sudden chatter of their fans.

“They’re odd.” you mused, and Jake laughed.

“Yeah, they’re kind of a hive mind.”

“You get used to it.” Sunghoon said, his eyes still on his paper. You frowned, crossing your legs as you watched their backs fade into the crowds.

“That’s not what I meant.” you said quietly.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

School had long been over. It was 7:00 pm, and all the other students had flocked back to their homes, doing homework or rotting in bed. But you were in the library, investigating the endless inventory of books. You had always been fond of libraries; you believed they held a history that didn’t exist in other parts of a school.

Eventually, you became bored with reading and decided to explore. Decelis had no security, which was fortunate for you, as the school had been technically closed for the past three hours. The gates had been chained closed, the electricity off as the sky darkened. You used a flashlight from your bag to illuminate the darkened hallways.

You had never been to the east wing. All your classes were located in the west, and other than classrooms, the only other thing in the east was the gym. It was of no interest to you, but you figured you might as well make yourself familiar with the school in the minimal time you had alone.

You remembered what Jay had said about the locker rooms at lunch that day.

No, we just clean up.

The door to the locker room creaked as you opened it. The room’s expanse was wide, much wider than you’d think by looking from the outside, and you felt you could get lost in the winding rows of metal lockers.

You heard a clanging sound. Then a shout, and it sounded oddly familiar. You immediately froze. You didn’t think anyone else was in the school at this hour. Your shoulders began to shake as you heard the shouts continue, morphing into painful sounding wails, the sound of clanging persisting. Pure terror ran through your body in waves. You didn’t know whether to rush in and help or to run, but your body moved regardless of what your brain told you, walking speedily towards the sound. And what you saw froze made you seize up with fear, a blood curdling scream escaping your mouth before you could stop it.

Jake was dead. You were nearly certain of it as he bled out on the marbled floor, gurgling emerging from his throat as he took his final breaths, before growing still. Blood pooled around his body, soaking through his clothes, and you barely recognized his handsome face underneath the open wounds on his head. And standing over him were two sets of dead eyes, laser focused on you.

You were paralyzed, completely petrified as tears washed down your face, grief stricken although you knew him only for a day. Your only friend was dead, and it was all their fault.

You knew from the beginning that there was something off about them.

Heeseung was holding a crowbar, Jay with a baseball bat. They both dripped with blood, the sound of the droplets hitting the tile floor being the only sound as you froze in fear. You tried to take a step back but they only grew closer.

“Please.” you whimpered quietly.

“What? Are you afraid?” Heeseung whispered, and you didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you.” Jay said, but there was a cruel dissonance to his voice that you didn’t trust.

“Jake,” you sobbed, your chest heaving with deep breaths as you attempted to steady yourself. You felt dizzy. “Why Jake?”

“He saw something he shouldn’t have.” Heeseung said, and the calm stillness of his voice made you petrified.

“Please, I won’t tell anyone.” you said quietly, your voice breaking. “I’ll leave and I’ll pretend nothing ever happened. I swear.”

“Of course you will.” Jay said with a sharp toothed smile. They both walked towards you, and you backed up until your back hit a wall of lockers. You braced yourself as they stopped a foot away, their weapons still soaked in blood and gripped tightly in their hands.

“Don’t worry.” Heeseung said. “We’re not gonna kill you just yet.” A tear ran down your cheek, and he wiped it away with his hand. “Keep quiet. We’ll see you soon.” Then they backed away, Heeseung first, then Jay as they approached Jake’s body.

“Now shoo.” Jay said, and they both smiled as they watched you run out of the locker rooms and out of the school, the wind flying in your hair as you cried, running as fast as you could until your legs stopped working.

You didn’t know it then, but from then on, you were in the brothers’ palms.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You didn’t go to school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Soobin was worried that you had already given up on school, but you told him you had the flu, and he wasn’t going to disagree. You stayed in your bed all day, buried under your covers and desperately hoping to forget the image of Jake, dead on the floor.

You kept your promise and didn’t alert the police, despite your guilty conscience. You felt horrible that you were abandoning the only person who had been kind to you since you arrived, but you tried to put it out of your mind, which proved difficult.

After four days at home, four days of guilt, four days of imploring with your brother to drop out, you returned to Decelis.

“Where the hell have you been?” Sunoo exclaimed the minute you walked through the gates, and you cursed his bad timing. “It’s been four days.”

“I got sick.” He looked at you skeptically but didn’t argue.

“You missed some huge news. You know that kid named Jake?” Your blood turned to ice. “Apparently he went totally off the map for days, and then they found his body yesterday in a sewer in the next town over.” You resisted the urge to throw up.

“Is that so?”

“Weren’t you friends? I saw you having lunch the other day.” You looked away, biting your lower lip as you fought down tears. The memory haunted you, the image of his blood stained face and the unforgiving gaze of the two men who killed him.

“No, I didn’t know him that well.” As if summoned by the mere thought of their faces, you felt their presence, and you whipped around to see the brothers behind you.

Jay and Heeseung looked nothing like they did four nights ago. Then, they had been menacing, with eyes of fire and low, growling voices. Now, they were smiling happily, with sunshine in their voice as they addressed you,

“Hey, y/n.” Heeseung chirped brightly. You felt paralyzed with fear. Every bone and muscle in your body wanted to run away desperately, but you knew you couldn’t tip Sunoo off. And God knows what would happen to you if you exposed their secret.

“Let’s chat.” Jay cooed. Sunoo looked shocked. He couldn’t believe that it had taken you less than a week to cozy up with the most desirable boys in school.

“Fine.” you said quietly. You knew you couldn’t say no to them, so you let them escort you away, one on each side, Jay on the right and Heeseung on the left. You glanced back at Sunoo with a pleading look, and he was wide eyed.

He thought you were the luckiest girl in the world. You thought you must have the worst luck ever.

Heeseung and Jay brought you behind the school, down a set of stairs you didn’t even know existed. They led to a basement area, stocked with brooms, buckets, and other cleaning supplies. The floor was sudsy and damp from whatever had been cleaned the night before. Jay pulled on the chain of a lamp, the room illuminating.

“We need to talk about what you saw.” You gulped. A desperate part of you had hoped that night was a bad dream. Neither of them spoke, and you grew agitated.

“What?” you snapped, and Heeseung chuckled.

“Don’t get impatient.” Jay said, and you shut your mouth tightly.

“Aw, be nice.” Heeseung said, patting his brother on the back, to which the latter glared. “She’s probably just confused.”

“I am. I am very, very confused. And terrified.” you said, the words spilling out of your mouth before you could think. You didn’t know what it was about them, but you felt compelled to tell them exactly what you were thinking. Heeseung laughed.

“Well, I’ll tell you it wasn’t a bad dream. We did kill Jake. And yes, we dumped him in a sewer a couple miles away.” You felt a chill run up your spine at the casual way he said it, like he wasn’t talking about killing another human being.

“I don’t understand.” “We create balance in the school.” Jay said plainly. “Our job is to make sure that people are punished when something goes wrong. Jake happened to see something he shouldn’t have. It was a casualty. We didn’t enjoy doing it.”

“He’s a nice boy.” Heeseung added, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“So who gave you this job? Who made you justice-serving vigilantes?” You were afraid to mouth off to them, afraid of what they might do, but they just laughed at you, as if they were both in on a joke that you didn’t understand.

“God.” Heeseung replied cryptically. You shook your head in complete disbelief.

“We’ll let you in on a secret.” Jay said, leaning in, and you did as well, like your body moved with a mind of its own. “This school has a dark history. Things happen here that don’t typically happen elsewhere.” You felt almost proud of yourself for your good instincts, but that prideful feeling immediately faded upon the next thing he said. “Something happened to us, a long time ago. Something very bad. And ever since then, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to punish the people that hurt others.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

“That’s for you to find out.” Heeseung said.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll report you?” They both looked at each other briefly, before laughing uproariously, a belly-laugh that made you startle.

“You won’t.” Heeseung said, still chuckling. “And even if you did, it wouldn’t matter.” You looked at him, utterly puzzled.

“That’s the good thing about our job.” Jay smiled as he spoke. “We can’t get caught.” And with that, they turned off the light.

“Why don’t you kill me then?” you said, still frozen in place. Although you couldn’t see their faces in the dark, you felt their eyes on you as they both turned their heads. “You killed Jake. What makes me different?”

“We’re not done with you yet.” Heeseung responded, then they were gone.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

After your interaction with the brothers, you immediately went to the library to find any information on Decelis available. Fuck class, you needed to get to the bottom of this. You read through almost six books on the history of the school without finding anything, and you clapped the most recent book shut with a sigh.

Moving to the computers, you sought an answer in searches upon searches of Decelis’ many scandals and controversies. A couple of bullying incidents, a student who died in the 2000’s, minor extortion. Nothing that gave you an answer.

You searched for hours before you found something of interest, and what you saw shocked you to your core. You weren’t even sure if you believed it.

Brothers and sport prodigies of Decelis High School found dead.

You felt your blood run cold. The website was a minor newspaper, only available after multiple pages of useless links. You read the article hungrily.

As of October 31st, 1984, Lee Heeseung and Jay Park, star athletes and model students, are dead. Heeseung and Jay, both talented members of the Decelis football team, were dedicated students, and both incredibly popular, according to their peers. They were believed to have no enemies, until they were found with their throats cut in their own bathtub.

Authorities believe the violent crime to be the fault of a fellow student, or a cruel Halloween prank, but no suspects have been identified thus far. Local police are conducting a full investigation in an attempt to find the killer.

The question is; will Jay and Heeseung get the justice they deserve?

(read the article below!)

You slammed the computer shut, gasping for breath, grateful that the library was empty and nobody was around to see. You didn’t believe it was real, it must’ve been a prank, a cruel prank that they were playing on you. Heeseung and Jay weren’t dead; it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

“Do you get it now?” a voice whispered into your ear, and you screamed, clapping your hand over your mouth. Heeseung laughed gleefully at you. The library had been empty a moment ago, and you hadn’t heard anyone come in; he had seemingly manifested out of nowhere. “I knew you’d find out soon. You’re smart.”

“Is this some kind of a sick joke?” you asked quietly, your eyes shifting to his neck. There was a thin white scar that stretched across his throat, and you wondered how you didn’t notice it before.

“I wish it was.”

“How… how are you alive?” Heeseung shrugged.

“I’m not. I haven’t been alive in a long time. I just decided to stick around.” He leaned in. “Haven’t you heard of vengeful spirits? Disembodied ghosts who stay on Earth until they fulfill their purpose?”

“Only in TV shows.” you scoffed, and Heeseung looked at you with amusement.

“Me and Jay are stuck here. We can’t leave Decelis, not now, not ever. It’s our eternal duty to right the wrongs that happen here. And trust me, there’s plenty to keep us busy.” You furrowed your brows.

“That’s a horrible fate.” He shrugged, but you saw a bit of sadness in his eyes. For a moment, he felt like a human to you, before that flicker of emotion was gone.

“You get used to it.” he said casually, a hand on the back of your chair. “It’s not like we have a choice anyway. Me and Jay just try to make the best of it.” You looked around, His raven haired-other half nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Jay?” Heeseung smiled.

“Oh, just taking care of something.” You felt a chill run up your spine. “You know, you’re the first person who’s ever found out about us.”

“Lucky me.” you sighed, clutching your head. Your mind felt like it was spinning out of control, everything becoming a synthetic blur, and Heeseung’s laughter did nothing to help, his taunting howling fading into the background as you clamped your eyes shut in pain.

When they opened, he was gone.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were a complete wreck. You were forced to reevaluate everything you thought you knew about reality, about the living and the dead. Your head was spinning with what you learned, and you sought comfort in the only person you could think of.

Sunghoon was still sitting under the willow tree, but without his companion this time. His eyes were red from crying, but it was clear he had attempted to hide it. His calligraphy was sitting in his lap, but the brush was still in his hand.

“Hi.” you whispered, and he looked up at you. His face was dull and gaunt with grief. “Can I sit with you?” He didn’t respond, but made no moves to argue, so you sat.

“Jake’s gone.” his voice was hollow.

“I know.” you replied quietly. “I’m sorry.” He sniffled for a moment, wiping his nose. “I didn’t know him long, but Jake was kind to me when nobody else was. He was a really good person.” You were unsure whether he wanted your comfort, as a complete stranger, but you couldn’t ignore him. You put your hand over his, and he flinched.

“I just don’t know what to do. I miss him so much.” Sunghoon said hollowly, and you were surprised to see the stony boy so vulnerable. “He was my only friend.”

“That’s not true.” you said, and he looked at you with red eyes. “I’m your friend. Even if I don’t know you that well. I’m here for you.” For a moment, his hardened facade faded, and in one swift, shocking movement, he pulled you into a hug.

You held him as he cried into your shoulder, your blazer dampening from his tears as you rubbed his back. Tears welled in the corners of your own eyes as his sobbing quickly faded, and when he released you, it was as if it never happened. His face was hardened yet again, his eyes a little redder than before.

“I’m sorry.” he said, quickly wiping a remaining tear from his cheek.

“Don’t be sorry.” you said with a tight smile that he reciprocated. “You don’t have to pretend around me.” He sighed.

“Thanks.” he said simply, going back to his calligraphy, this time his brush painting gently across the paper in calm strokes. You sat next to him, your back resting on the trunk as you gazed at the leaves of the tree above.

And for a fleeting moment, you actually felt peaceful.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

After that, you and Sunghoon were inseparable. It wasn’t exactly your choice; but it seemed that after Jake’s death, Sunghoon had found a new friend to cling onto.

You quickly found that Sunghoon wasn’t as receptive to popularity as Jake was. Despite being good looking and well liked, he didn’t have many friends, which seemed to be a choice of his own. He spent most of his time with you during the school day, painting under the willow or walking to class together.

You had noticed something about Sunghoon lately. For the past two weeks, he had been coming to school with cuts and bruises. Some on his face, some on his arms, ones you had noticed when the sleeves of his white uniform rolled up as he painted. You weren’t sure where they had been coming from; you had asked if he was okay, and he brushed it off like it was nothing.

You were eating lunch at your usual lunch spot; Sunghoon doing calligraphy and you reading a new book you had just purchased. Your typical tranquility was disturbed, as you were dreading, by a certain presence.

Jay seemingly appeared out of nowhere, with his usual stony expression.

“I have to talk to you.” You and Sunghoon both looked up abruptly. You knew the past weeks had been too peaceful; something was up.

“Fine.” you said, tucking your book into your bag and shouldering it as you stood up. “See you later, Hoon.” He nodded, looking back down as you walked away with Jay.

One of the many things you didn’t like about the brothers was that they gathered a lot of attention. It was impossible to walk down the hall with them without garnering stares and whispers of envy. Even a mere conversation could spark rumors galore, and the last thing you needed was people talking about you.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Sunghoon.” Jay said, his hands in his pockets as you walked together.

“So what?” you replied sharply, and he looked at you warningly.

“You should stay away from him.”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“He’s hiding something.” Jay said simply. “If you knew the truth, I don’t think you’d want to hang around him.” You furrowed your brows.

“What has he done?” Jay turned his gaze to you, and you stared into those dead eyes. The eyes that haunted you, that you dreaded to see when you came to school every day. The eyes that you saw in every nightmare.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” You shook your head.

“Don’t tell me he’s your next target.” Jay didn’t respond. “He’s grieving.”

“Everyone’s grieving in their own way.” he said plainly, as if he knew more than you, which you supposed he did. “It’s not an excuse.”

“He can’t have done anything that bad. He’s a good guy.” Jay abruptly stopped walking, turning to face you from the front. He had led you into an empty classroom, and you shuddered at being alone with him.

“People aren’t good, y/n. No matter how much you want them to be, people will always disappoint you. It’s in human nature,” he explained. “Most people are horrible. They inflict pain, they screw over anyone necessary to get what they want.” You looked at him with sad, pleading eyes, and for a minute he softened, and he put a hand on your shoulder. “You have to be careful with your heart. Don’t trust anyone.”

“What’s the point of living, then?” you said, and he smiled.

“Living is our curse. You only realize how much you want it until it’s gone.” he said, and for a moment, you saw him as the confused, unfortunate teenager he was when he died. “I would do anything to live again.”

“I’m sorry.” you said, and he shook his head.

“Don’t feel pity for us. There are thousands of lost souls out there without any purpose. At least me and Heeseung have a job. And not anyone,” he looked at you in assessment, “Not even you, could stop us. So it’s best not to get in our way.”

“I’m not planning on it.” you grumbled.

“Good. Then I need your help.”

“What could you possibly need my help for?” he gazed at you seriously.

“Just keep an eye out.” Then, as he often did, he disappeared into thin air.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

The next day Sunghoon came to school battered.

You had seen him a little bruised, but this was an entirely new level of brutality. The entire right side of his porcelain face was covered in bright red abrasions, his skin blooming purple underneath the bloody gashes. Dried blood lingered across his forehead and chin, and for once, he had his blazer on to conceal whatever was lying under his clothes. His eye was black and blue, and the flesh swelled.

You trembled as you approached him underneath the willow tree. Classmates stared in curiosity and disgust as they walked by, but you paid them no mind. You had no doubt whose handiwork this was, but you prayed it wasn’t true.

“What happened?” you asked, and he didn’t look up from his calligraphy. “Who did this to you?” He sighed deeply, leaning his head back on the trunk of the tree, and you could practically hear his thoughts spinning as he closed his eyes.

Sunghoon was alone. He often lingered around the school until after everyone went home; it brought him a sense of peace. And God knew he could use it; his best friend died, and his emotions weren’t exactly letting him deal with it properly.

Sunghoon was an angry man. Although some would describe him as cold, coarse, or unapproachable, none would say he was angry. But he was; oftentimes he wanted nothing more than to hurt anyone around him. Everyone. Now that Jake was gone, there wasn’t anyone to keep that anger in check.

So he started fights. Usually the underclassmen; never the same person twice, and certainly nobody who was brave enough to report him. He took pleasure in inflicting pain on other people, the same pain he was feeling on the inside.

Sunghoon wasn’t a bad person. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he had to get the anger out somehow.

He heard the door creak behind him, and turned around sharply. He didn’t think anyone was still in the school, not at this time when everyone should’ve gone home already. He was surprised to see two familiar faces come through the door.

“Jay? Heeseung?” he called out to them, and as they stepped out and into the light, he froze in fear.

He had never trusted Heeseung and Jay the way Jake did. He didn’t trust the vacant, emotionless look in their eyes, their odd mannerisms. Sometimes they unsettled him, but he had always liked them. But now, that empty look had transformed into something much more terrifying; vengeance.

Heeseung was holding a crowbar. Jay was holding a bat. Sunghoon stood up, slowly backing away as they approached.

“Guys? What’s going on?” he asked, but garnered no response except for the sudden leap of action, Heeseung and Jay both swinging their weapons with all their strength, Sunghoon falling to the ground, spitting blood.

He fought to protect himself as the two men mercilessly bashed him, blood dripping down his forehead and into his eyes as Jay struck his head, sending him into a dizzy haze as he struggled to stay conscious. For a minute, it seemed like they would never stop, blood splashing the ground around them as they beat the younger boy, but then they ceased. They dropped their weapons back to their sides, covered in blood, with satisfied expressions on their faces, albeit one more than the other.

“An eye for an eye.” Heeseung said, turning to Jay with a smile that his brother didn’t reciprocate. Jay turned to Sunghoon and grabbed him by the collar of the shirt. Blood dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it off with his sleeve, trembling.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone.” Jay said quietly, and Sunghoon gurgled in response, his eyes wide, his throat rich with blood. Then they were gone.

You prayed silently that neither of the brothers were at fault, and Sunghoon finally looked at you, his brown eyes barely peeking from beneath his red skin.

“I got mugged.” he said, and his answer brought you no relief.

“Bullshit, Sunghoon. Thieves don’t do this kind of stuff to people.” you said frustratedly, and he sent knives at you with his eyes. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I deserve it.” he sighed again, and you raised a brow. “I’m not feeling well. I think I’m going to go to the nurse.” He stood up, tucking his work into a folder and shouldering his bag before speedily departing from the courtyard, desperately ignoring the looks thrown his way by your peers.

“I thought I told you to stay away from him.” Jay said, his arms crossed, and you whirled, the two boys suddenly present behind you.

“What the fuck did you do to him?”

“Only what we had to.” Heeseung replied with satisfaction. “I thought we were very clear about our duty to this school.”

“What did he do to deserve that?” you spat, confused and frustrated, and both of the boys looked at each other, then back at you. You were growing tired of their wordless communication, and being left out of it.

“He deserved worse than that. One day, you’ll realize that we were only trying to protect you.” Jay said, and you shook your head in confusion.

“We said to stay away because we hurt people like him, people that deserve a taste of their own medicine. That’s not the kind of company you should keep. Opening up to bad people means opening yourself up to pain when they eventually show their true selves.” Heeseung added, and you felt close to tears, you were so vexed.

“Please, just tell me what he did.”

“You really want to know?” Heeseung replied, rising to your challenge, and Jay signaled for him to stop, which he ignored. “He’s been attacking the underclassmen. He’s been beating them bloody, at least one a day.” You felt like your heart was about to stop. Why was it that every time you let yourself get close to someone, something horrible happened? First Yeonjun, then Jake, now Sunghoon. You felt hopeless.

“Let’s put it to rest.” Jay said when you didn’t reply, and Heeseung looked a little less brave then he did a moment ago, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We did our job. I told you, nothing gets in our way. Not even you.”

“God. Maybe it’d be better if I didn’t make any friends here.” you said quietly, and both of the boys suddenly felt pity for you, something they hadn’t felt in a long time. After a lifetime of pain and torture, they had desensitized themselves to the struggles of the living. But somehow, there was a pang of life in each of the boys’ dead hearts.

“Protecting yourself doesn’t mean you have to give up.” Jay whispered, and you looked up at him sadly.

“And you always have us.” Heeseung smiled. “Whether you like it or not.” Jay jabbed him in the stomach, the older boy letting out a grunt, and for a moment they were just normal teenagers in your eyes.

You laughed. A genuine laugh, and their eyes widened. Heeseung and Jay had never heard you laugh before, and it sounded like the ringing of church bells, the dust off a fairy’s wings. For a minute, they reveled in it.

Then it was gone, and you said your farewells to the both of them. It was your turn to disappear this time.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Now that Sunghoon no longer seemed like an option, you went with the only other choice you had; Sunoo and his friends.

You remembered you had sat with them on the stone benches at the opposite end of the courtyard, and lo and behold, they were there. Sunoo’s eyes narrowed upon your arrival, while Riki and Jungwon greeted you with friendly waves.

“Did Jay and Heeseung run you off?” Sunoo asked sardonically, and Jungwon elbowed him in the stomach. “Ouch! What?” “Go easy on her. It must’ve been hard to cope with everything going on lately.” he said pointedly, mouthing the name ‘Jake’ to his suddenly sheepish friend, a gesture that didn’t escape your notice. You smiled gratefully.

“Oh.” Sunoo replied. “Yeah, sorry.” “Weird things have been happening lately, huh?” Riki said, and you looked at him warily. “First Jake, then Sunghoon… and they’re not the only ones.”

“What do you mean?” you asked cautiously.

“Oh, y’know. Students dying, getting hurt-” Riki opened his mouth to say more, before suddenly stopping. You swore you saw Jungwon grab his arm under the table in warning. “Um, I guess that’s normal though.” he attempted to do damage control.

You assessed Jungwon and Riki with narrowed eyes. You carefully observed the bead of sweat on Jungwon’s forehead as he tugged on his tightly buttoned collar, the way Riki was desperately avoiding your gaze.

“Guys, stop it with the horror stories. You’re gonna freak her out.” Sunoo said, seeming blissfully unaware of his anxious friends.

“Don’t worry, I’m not easily freaked out.” you responded, taking a bite of your food as the table fell into silence.

Maybe Jungwon was nervous about his reputation, maybe he and Riki were actually concerned about the well-being of the students. Maybe you were imagining it, paranoia beginning to get to you, but you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be your last strange interaction with the two of them. You just hoped Jungwon and Riki weren’t on the brothers’ trail, lest they suffer the same fate as the last friend you had who discovered something he wasn’t supposed to.

Even moreso, you hoped they weren’t hiding anything.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jay was thinking about you.

That wasn’t common, not for him, a boy whose heart had died along with his body many years ago. And yet, he found himself wondering about you.

When he and Heeseung had first found you watching in that locker room, you were a threat to him. A scared, confused girl, but nonetheless a threat, someone who could reveal secrets about him and his brother that would make their job impossible. The two boys had agreed not to kill you then and there, but it was nothing personal, not a kind gesture; it was one of mercy. Temporary mercy.

As he began to spend more time with you, he saw you in a different light. He started to think of you fondly, the barrier around his lifeless heart beginning to shatter. He saw it in Heeseung too; in the way he looked at you, how his smiles turned from menacing to genuine.

It was dangerous for Jay to have feelings for a living person, you in particular. You were hiding something from both of them. Something big; a secret that needed to be brought to light, and a cruelty that needed to be punished. He just didn’t know what it was yet, and he could only pray these sickeningly fond feelings would go away before he found out.

Especially when their next targets were two of your friends.

“You seem pensive.” Heeseung said, and Jay crossed his arms, sitting on the floor amongst an aisle of bookshelves reaching a mile high. The two boys often sought quiet time in the library during lunch, where they could speak alone. “You know I can tell what you’re thinking, right? You can’t hide anything from me.”

“Shut up.” Jay grumbled.

“Someone’s grumpy.” Heeseung pulled a book off the shelf, flipping through the pages casually. In the past 40 or so years of boredom, they had each read practically every book in the library. “You’re thinking about her.”

“So what if I am?” “I wouldn’t get attached.” Heeseung replied and Jay glared at him icily.

“You already are. I can tell.” He didn’t respond to that, just putting his book back on the shelf. “She’s making this so much harder than it needs to be.”

“I’d suggest putting your feelings to the back of your mind. It’ll make our job tonight much easier.” Heeseung said, and Jay sighed at the thought of what they had to do that night. A job that had once been his savior from eternal idleness was beginning to feel like a burden, and he had a suspicion that it was your fault.

“Don’t you ever get tired of the endless killing?” Heeseung shrugged.

“I get a kick out of it.”

“You were always the crazier one, even when we were alive.” Jay said with amusement, but his brother didn’t respond. He was looking out the window as the sun began to float below the horizon, streaks of navy sky peeking out from the pink sunset. It was almost nighttime, and both of them knew what that meant.

“Time to move out.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon and Riki moved with the night. Their job was a risky one, and moving under the cover of nighttime made it considerably safer to do business.

You might be puzzled, seeing two angel-faced young boys in hoodies hopping the fence to a private school. Their limpid eyes and innocent expressions contradicted the nature of what they were about to do; but that was what made them perfect for the job.

Few students at Decelis knew, but when the night fell, Riki and Jungwon sold drugs to their desperate peers. They were punctual and reliable, which is what made them so popular on the drug market. They sold whatever they could get their hands on; weed, pills, etc. Most of what they sold ws diluted, low grade drugs, but they didn’t care. They made a shit ton of money doing it.

Unfortunately for them, Heeseung and Jay stayed at school all night. And it wasn’t hard to notice drug deals happening in what was practically their home.

“Fuck.” Jungwon said, glancing at his watch. “They’re late.”

“I wouldn’t expect Heeseung and Jay to buy drugs, y’know.” Riki said breezily, and his partner glared at him. “With them being athletes, and all.”

“They don’t play sports.” Jungwon said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and putting it between his tense lips, lighting it, his hand cupped against the wind.

“Really? I swear I heard they did somewhere…” Riki trailed off at the sight of two men approaching, his eyes lighting up as he tapped his friend. “It’s them.” Jungwon took another drag before reaching into his pocket.

“Hey,” he called to the brothers, but his voice went ignored. They walked down the dark courtayrd towards the two younger boys, barely lit by the moonlight. “Jay? Heeseung? Is that you?”

Jungwon squinted to get a better look at the approaching figures, his eyes widening as he saw the weapons concealed in their hands. A crowbar. A bat. Both with crusted blood flaking off the surface, and two sets of eyes trained frighteningly on him. His instincts kicked in as he dropped his cigarette.

“Run.” he said to Riki, and the two boys flew across the pavement, the rapid fluttering of footsteps behind them as Heeseung and Jay chased them across the school.

Jungwon’s chest burned with fear and adrenaline as he ran, Riki at his side with wide eyes. Heeseung and Jay were right on their trail, their speed supernatural, and Jungwon braced himself as Jay reached him, his bat swinging through the air.

Jungwon hit the ground like a pile of bricks, the wind knocked out of him as his chest came in contact with the hard concrete. Before he knew it, everything had gone dark, knocked unconscious.

Riki was a fast runner. He had been on the track team his entire life, winning gold medals for his speed, and outrunning Heeseung should’ve been an easy feat for him. Yet he found himself overpowered by the older boy, who easily caught up with inhuman speed. Riki screeched to a stop, and so did he.

“Please, dude, I don’t know what’s going on,” Riki said tearfully as Heeseung tapped his crowbar against his leg, looking amused. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of divine punishment?”

“W-what?’

“Whatever comes around,” Heeseung lifted his crowbar, the metal weapon swinging violently through the air. “Goes around.”

Then it all went black.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were sitting in bed silently.

Your brother had gone out with his friends, and you would rather be alone than around your parents. And you were thinking, thinking about the night that had haunted you ever since it had occurred.

You were at your and Yeonjun’s spot. A graffiti covered bridge, in an abandoned part of town. Back in the good days, you had come here to talk about serious things, to ponder and cry when times were hard. Now, after years, you were back here alone, and you found yourself missing him despite how horrible he was.

Suddenly, Yeonjun was there. You hadn’t seen him this solemn in years, not without a sneer or cruel grin. He spoke to you, you spoke to him. He provoked you.

All you remembered was being filled with rage. Anger that had accumulated after years of ridicule, of hatred and violence. It was eating you from the inside, and you felt like acid had filled your stomach and throat. You wanted him to leave you alone, you wanted him to apologize, you wanted to hit him, you wanted to kill him.

Before you knew it, you were pushing him, and he sailed off the edge of the bridge with ease, his arms flailing, eyes wide.

You regretted it immediately, but as you looked down at him, falling in slow motion, you saw the eyes of your best friend. Those wide eyes, filled with love and fear and unspoken words as he reached up for you, before he hit the ground with a sickening crack, going still as blood pooled around him.

The memory of that night had tortured you ever since it happened, and since you met Heeseung and Jay, the haunting memory had only gotten worse. The guilt was eating away at you, and you had to tell someone before you exploded with the pressure of the truth. Then, you were suddenly struck with an idea.

You pushed your window open, ducking your head out and slipping onto the sidewalk before shutting it behind you quietly, running to Decelis as fast as your feet would take you.

After all, the dead couldn’t tell secrets, right?

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

The school was silent, almost too silent, the crickets and birds cowering. You walked around the perimeter, checking for any passersby, before hoisting yourself over the iron wrought gate, lending deftly on your feet. You didn’t know what Heeseung and Jay were up to, but you assumed they couldn’t be busy at this hour.

Your first thought was to check the library, but your gut was telling you they weren’t there. You shoved your hands into your pockets, the cold, lifeless energy beginning to creep you out, chills running up your spine. You turned the corner into the hallway, and your breath caught in your throat.

Jungwon and Riki were laying on the floor. Their eyes were closed peacefully, there was no blood around them, and for a moment you wondered if they were just sleeping. But the crusted blood on their foreheads told you otherwise, a single wound on each of their heads. You clapped a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming, and as you grew closer, you noticed a small bag of pills in each of their unclenched palms.

“You shouldn’t be here.” a familiar voice said, and Jay put a hand on your shoulder before you shrieked in reaction. “We didn’t want you to see this.”

“What… what did you do?” you stuttered quietly, breathless, and Heeseung grimaced, his hand on your other shoulder.

“I’m sorry. We had to do it.” he said. “The school will find them here in the morning. I expect school to be closed for the next week or so.”

“I wish we could visit you.” Jay said, but you ignored it in your grief.

“What did they do to deserve this?”

“They were selling pills to the students. Low grade, bad stuff. A student died from them, others are in the hospital.” Heeseung explained, and you shook your head, refusing to accept this cruel reality. Suddenly their shifty behavior made sense, why Jungwon silenced Riki from talking about the dying students. They were covering for themselves, and you couldn’t believe it.

“That doesn’t make any sense. Jungwon’s the student president, he wouldn’t do this.” The brothers looked at each other, before shrugging.

“Sometimes people do things that don’t make sense.” Jay said, and a tear dropped down your cheek. You were so desensitized to death that at this point it shouldn’t affect you, but you couldn’t help but cry at the innocent look on Jungwon and Riki’s faces as they lay silently on the tiled floors.

“Life is fleeting, y/n. You have to be kind to people while you have the chance.” Heeseung said solemnly, and you looked at him with teary eyes. You had never seen him this morbid, without an expression of amusement or enjoyment.

“You two are changing.” you said, and they both looked surprised at your comment, eyes widening as they looked to each other in confusion. “You don’t enjoy this anymore. I can tell.”

“It’s not something to be enjoyed.” Jay said unsteadily, caught off guard, and you looked back at Jungwon and Riki’s peaceful bodies.

“You didn’t always feel that way.” you responded quietly, and neither of their hands moved from your shoulder as the three of you stared silently at the morbid sight on the floor.

You were right. Heeseung and Jay had changed, and you had changed along with them. They didn’t enjoy killing. The purpose they had dutifully served was becoming a burden, no longer a distraction. They hadn’t noticed, but you had changed them. You had brought them a new perspective on life, or lack thereof.

Day by day, they were becoming more human. And it was all thanks to you.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

School had been closed for a week. You were rotting alone at home, without the companionship of anyone to save you. Jake was dead. Sunghoon wasn’t an option. Jungwon and Riki had been found in the halls first thing in the morning, no longer breathing, their eyes closed peacefully. And without them, seeing Sunoo didn’t feel right.

Jay and Heeseung had given you their farewells when you left the school that night, and you hadn’t seen them since. The school was an active crime scene, and sneaking back in would make you seem like a suspect. So you kept your distance—but they occasionally left letters for you a few yards from the back of the school, as far as they could go. Their messages of comfort and humor were the only thing keeping you grounded, and you wondered how two undead killers were the only friends you had.

Maybe your old school was the better option after all.

Today, you returned to school, and you were not looking forward to it at all.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Was the first thing you heard when you entered the campus. You startled at the sudden sound of Sunghoon’s voice, whirling around.

He looked considerably better than the last time you saw him. The bruises and cuts on his cheeks had almost healed, and his black eye had faded to a slightly yellow contusion. The larger wound on his head was covered in a bandaid. What really stood out were his eyes. They were a pool of emotions; hurt, angry, and confused.

“I’m not avoiding you.” you replied, hugging your books to your chest nervously.

“You are. You haven’t come to lunch in days, and you didn’t answer any of my calls when school shut down.” You wracked your mind for an excuse. You couldn’t exactly say it was because Heeseung and Jay had told you he was beating up freshmen.

“I was sad. Jungwon and Riki just died.” He seemed suspicious of your response, but he couldn’t argue with grief, so he didn’t. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his blazer, shaking the hair out of his face.

“Okay. Don’t ditch me again.”

“I won’t.” you said meekly, and he smiled at that, nodding his head for you to follow as you both began to walk to your next class.

You had always thought Sunghoon’s smiles were so pretty, but this one scared you. Something was off about him. He was behaving strangely, and that scared you.

Heeseung’s warning rang in your head like the crashing of bells.

We said to stay away because we hurt people like him, people that deserve a taste of their own medicine. That’s not the kind of company you should keep.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

The bell for lunch rang, and you sighed at the prospect of having to be with Sunghoon, without an excuse. Sunoo never came back to school after it reopened. There were rumors of him transferring, something about being exposed for cyberbully, karmic retribution, blah blah blah. You were sure it was the brother’s work, but you didn’t have time to worry about it now; you were only concerned about being in proximity with the very person you were instructed to avoid.

Sunghoon’s face brightened when you approached the willow tree, and he set down his calligraphy to greet you with a hug, a tradition that you had never started. You then sat down together.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come.” he said, and you smiled tightly.

“Of course I came.” You took a bite of your food to stifle what you really wanted to ask him. Why would he attack your fellow students? Had grief made him violent? But you said nothing, just chewing your thoughts and swallowing them down. You weren’t sure why he had suddenly become so clingy, but you didn’t trust it, not at all.

“Watch out.” you heard the whisper of a voice in your ear, and you whipped around to see no one. Sunghoon looked at you sideways, and you sent him a confused smile, shaking it off. Were you imagining things?

“Stay away.” another voice whispered, and you knew it was real this time, you recognized it. Jay and Heeseung were trying to talk to you.

“Come help.” you said under your breath, hoping Sunghoon didn’t hear, and thankfully he didn’t, engrossed in his calligraphy.

The brothers heeded your call, and out of nowhere, they were towering over the two of you, their hands in their pockets; Heeseung slouching, Jay standing ramrod straight, a trait of theirs that you had grown to be fond of.

“We have to borrow y/n.” Jay said gruffly, and Sunghoon shot daggers at them with his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but you saw the fear deep in his eyes, the way his lips trembled when he opened them, how his pupils contracted in fright. When he didn’t respond, Heeseung grabbed your arm, sweeping you off your feet with inhuman strength, and you stumbled to regain your balance. Without warning, they began dragging you away, and you turned back to your forlorn companion.

“See you tomorrow, Sunghoon!” you called out, but he didn’t respond, just staring at you as you turned your head, practically flying across the courtyard.

“I thought we gave you very clear instructions.” Jay said sternly.

“Wow, no ‘I miss you’?” you asked sardonically, and they looked at each other, Heeseung releasing your arm.

“We missed you.” they chorused in unison, and you couldn’t help but laugh. After a week of being miserable, you were grateful they were able to bring you a sliver of joy. “Now, what did we say about Sunghoon?”

“I tried, I really did. There’s something weird about him lately.” you looked back at him, and Sunghoon was still staring across the courtyard, his eyes still finding you through the crowds of bustling students. Jay pulled you around the corner.

“How so?” Heeseung asked, lips pursed.

“He won’t stop following me around. He was mad I ditched him, he almost seemed…” you trailed off, but the intense gaze of the two men was enough to make you continue. “He seemed threatening.”

“Hm,” Jay mused, looking at his brother. Heeseung looked back, nodding, and you didn’t like the conniving look in their eyes. “We’ll handle it.”

“Please don’t hurt him.” you said quietly, and Heeseung raised a brow.

“Why? He hurt people. He deserves it.”

“I know. But I think everyone’s been through a lot recently. Please, just spare some mercy, just this once.” you said, and Jay shook his head.

“You’re sweet, y/n. Too sweet.” They both shoved their hands into their pockets, preparing to leave. “You need to be more careful with your heart.”

As they walked into the empty halls, out of sight from the milling students, they disappeared, their dirty footprints suddenly halting in the middle of the floor.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

“Tonight, we take care of him.” Heeseung said, a hand on his chin as he thought. School was over, and the brothers had been in a moral quandary the entire day, pondering amongst the books in the library. They were sullen.

Jay whirled around, brows raised in shock and confusion.

“Y/n said not to hurt him.” Heeseung looked at him icily in response.

“You’ve gone soft.”

“You have too. Don’t act like killing Sunghoon is an act of righteousness. We would be doing it for her.” Jay snapped, and Heeseung looked away.

“We’re doing the world a favor by getting rid of him. There’s something wrong with him, I can tell. I see it in his eyes.”

“We’re not here to do the world favors.” Jay said, crossing his arms, but he couldn’t disagree with his brother. He knew Sunghoon was scum, and he was a danger to you. They heard and saw everything that happened in the school. They could read the minds and intentions of the students, and they knew Sunghoon was going to hurt you, whether he intended to or not. And neither of them wanted you hurt, as much as they didn’t want to admit it. “You can admit it. I know I’ve grown fond of her too.”

Heeseung shook his head, “That’s dangerous.”

“It’s human nature.”

“We’re not human anymore. Don’t forget that.” Heeseung stood up, brushing himself off as he stuck out his hand. “We’ll call y/n here after school. He’ll follow her, I know he will. Tonight, we take care of it all. Both of them.” Jay gulped. He didn’t want to agree, but he knew he had to. He shook his brother’s hand.

“All of it. For Decelis.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Heeseung and Jay had called you to Decelis. They met you after school, telling you to come to the library at 7:00 pm sharp, and not to be late. They refused to disclose any other information, and you approached the gates nervously, hoping you weren’t about to be confronted with bad news.

You had only just entered the campus when you got the overwhelming feeling that you were being watched. You knew the sensation of your ghostly friends creeping up on you, appearing out of nowhere, no, this was different. It was more sinister. You looked over your shoulder, seeing no one.

Maybe you were going crazy.

“What are you doing here?” Sunghoon asked when you turned back around, and you shrieked, clapping a hand over your mouth as you practically crashed into him. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or concerned that your instincts had been correct. But after you saw the look in his eyes, you knew it should be the latter.

“Are you following me?” you asked, your voice trembling with anger and fear.

“You’ve been avoiding me. I didn’t know what to do.” he said, and you saw hurt in the void of his dark eyes. “Are you meeting with Heeseung and Jay?”

“Why does it matter?” you asked defensively, and he just shook his head.

“You’re smart. You know they hurt me, I can tell.” You froze up, and he took that as confirmation that his hunch was correct. “Why? I thought you were my friend.”

“I am, Sunghoon.” you said to placate him, but you didn’t mean it. You were frightened by the flat, emotionless tone of his voice, the dark look in his eyes. He looked nothing like the Sunghoon you knew.

“Since Jake died, you’re all I have. A friend wouldn’t leave me for them.” he enunciated the last word with disgust. “They’re insane. You can’t trust them.”

“You’re one to talk.” you bit back. “Beating up the underclassmen? Sending kids home with bloody faces? That’s insane. If I can’t trust them, I can’t trust you either!” Your breath hitched when he grabbed you by the collar, eyes flashing with anger.

“Let go of her.” Jay said, his voice hardened, and you heaved a sigh of relief. Sunghoon jumped in fright, eyes darting back and forth at the boy who had seemed to appear out of thin air.

“Where did you come from?” he asked in confusion, backing away from you as you ran behind Jay, seeking protection.

“Don’t you get it?” Heeseung’s voice rang through the schoolyard before his body was visible, manifesting himself only a few feet from Sunghoon’s face. “C’mon, you’re smart. You should’ve figured this out by now.” He tapped his crowbar against the ground while Sunghoon backed up in terror, Jay stretching his arm out in front of you protectively. You looked up at his stony expression, realization setting in as you noticed Heeseung’s weapon.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him.” you said, voice meek, and Jay didn’t reply.

“What are you?” Sunghoon stuttered, and Heeseung smiled, raising his crowbar into the air, so far back that it reached past his shoulder.

“Pray you never find out.” Then Heeseung recoiled the weapon, swinging it back with the strength of an ox.

You had seen the aftermath of Heeseung and Jay’s work, but seeing them kill in front of your eyes was more than you could handle. The sickening sound of the crowbar lodging itself in Sunghoon’s head and the way the light left his eyes made you struggle not to vomit, and his body crumpled to the floor, killed with a single hit. In that moment, you were reminded that these were not your friends, these were killers, with the strength of a god, and a conscience as dead as their hearts. You felt something you hadn’t felt around them in a long time; pure fear. And as Jay released you and Heeseung dislodged his weapon, you only felt it intensifying until it was unbearable, the brothers turning around to face you.

You felt yourself struggle to breathe, your eyes desperately avoiding the sight of Sunghoon’s lifeless body on the floor. You dropped to your knees, the concrete scraping against your bare skin. They didn’t say a word to you, and you noticed their tight grips on their weapons, Heeseung bloody hand wrapped around the crowbar, Jay’s knuckles blanching as he gripped his bat.

“Y/n,” Heeseung said, and when he said your name, it sounded like a farewell. “We need you to be honest with us.” You looked up at them silently, attempting to slow your breath.

This wasn’t right. This entire situation was off. Your head was spinning, and you felt like your heart might stop at any second.

“What?” you replied, your voice croaking.

“You’ve sinned.” Jay said, and you hardly recognized his voice, hollow and full of desperation. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and bile rose in your throat. “We know you have. Just tell us what you did.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t pretend.” Heeseung said, kneeling down to you as he spoke, placing a cold hand on your cheek. “Just tell us.” You felt all hope leave your body as your eyes dropped to the stony floor.

You knew. You suddenly knew what was happening, and that there was no way to prevent it. In those mere moments before you answered, as you watched blood and memories of a still body beneath a bridge flash through your head, you wished your brother had never sent you here.

“I killed my best friend.” you whispered. You didn’t tell them the whole story, you couldn’t bear to, you couldn’t relive that pain. You couldn’t explain that you didn’t mean to, that he had tortured you for years before you ended him. So you didn’t say anything, and as you looked back up at them, their dark, matching eyes that you had grown to love had returned to darkness. Dead and unfeeling, just as the day you met them. It was as if you had flipped a switch in them, and Heeseung sighed as he stood up. Jay stepped towards you, and for a moment, you prayed he might forgive you, tell you that everything was okay. But you forgot that forgiveness was the only thing they couldn’t feel. So he didn’t. Instead, he raised his bat, saying;

“I’m sorry.”

Then everything went black.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

back to the masterlist.

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lunarw0rks · 1 year ago

Note

Hiiiii❤️ I idk if this is a Drabble or a headcaon but here I go anyways😅 . Hear some context So you don’t think I’m some weirdo. So in the 2017 movie called the babysitter and this character Allison got shot in the b00b and she “omg he shot me in the b00b what kind of dçk shots a girl in the b00bs” (funny scene) so basically fem!reader with platonic!taskforce141. And there on a mission and suddenly they hear the same line on their coms and they’re like 😳

(feel free to ignore)

A/N: LMAO - I had to look up the scene for this as a reference. Just picturing Price's paternal disappointment when he realizes his team acts like a bunch of children. Sorry, this is rlly short!

Summary: Your attempt at comedic relief sets off a chain reaction of immaturity.

Warning(s): platonic!141, canon-typical mild injury, suggestive language, AFAB!Reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 554

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver. | PART TWO

No Filter // 141 Drabble

Compared to some of the other operations you’d done with them, this was a piece of cake. A simple infiltrate and exfil mission where you’d be clearing house in one of Hassan’s safehouses—a mere breadcrumb leading to the man himself.

Price thought it would go smoothest if everyone split up, but to keep within shouting distance. It was only a small facility, after all.

Being ambushed? Shot? That was not something you saw in the cards for today.

Luckily, you got a bullet in him before he had a chance to do worse. But here you were, slumped against the wall with all the air knocked out of your lungs.

“Heard the shots, Sergeant. You broken?”

Captain Price’s voice crackled through near instantly, the second he had pulled the trigger on you. Though it took a few seconds, you managed to recuperate, and asses the room in front of you. The man who shot you K.I.A, and you very fortunate.

You peered down at your chest; indeed not broken, but injured. The vest had absorbed the shot, causing a relieved sigh to escape your lips. Obviously, if you really had a bullet in your chest, you wouldn’t just be sitting there—but the adrenaline of escaping death eliminated any rationality.

You unbuttoned the first few buttons on your shirt, seeing a welt on your breast as if the man had his gaze set on them when he pulled the trigger. Still, with your hand on the button of your radio, you finally gave some sort of answer.

“Bastard shot me in the boobs.” It was a mumble, but there was no way in hell they didn’t hear that.

As you winced, you seemed to forget that the entire team was on the other line—probably way more concerned with your life than the health of your tits. “What kind of dick shoots a girl in the boobs?” You asked rhetorically, despite the astonished silence on the other line.

“You were shot in your…?” Gaz was the first to speak up, his tone practically painting the picture of his signature squint.

Before the next voice chimed in, you could swear you heard whoever it was stifling a laugh. “Thanks for that.” Soap chimed in, accent crackling against the static. His smirk was visible even if his words; the natural flirt in him coming out no matter what.

Ghost had remained silent, probably muting his comms so he didn’t have to listen to this. And Price? Oh, Price… He’s got his head in his hands with pure disappointment. How did this status update turn so unprofessional, so quickly?

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Soap comes in again, a smug sneer on his face. “He shot you on the—”

“Keep it tactical, Sergeant.” Price blurts, interrupting the immature banter daring to be further set in motion. He was fighting every urge to crack a smile at the pure ridiculousness, but his poker face and stern tone prevented it.

“Tactical or not, John, it’s a tough break.” Laswell comes in, your only saving grace against Price’s father-like disappointment. She was the last superior of yours you’d expected to find it humorous, but she did, nonetheless.

This would definitely be the source material for the next HR meeting, you could see it now.

#mw2 #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #simon riley #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x y/n #captain john price #john price #kate laswell #kyle gaz garrick #soap mctavish

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steviebbboi · 2 months ago

Text

Demon's Devotion

Pairing: Incubus!Lloyd x F!Hunter!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k~

Summary: A deal that should have been black-and-white has suddenly become grey. Swapping souls means swapping places. You just didn't think that meant to spend eternity with him.

Disclaimer: This is my submission for @yenzys-lucky-charm & @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Horny Hootenanny writing challenge~ sincere thanks to lovely Yenzy and Amber for being the gems that they are <3 I'm also going to submit this into my own writing challenge (lol) Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge . Anyone is welcome to join~

Dividers and banner by me :)

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't cute~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; dubcon, non-con, softdark!Lloyd (but mainly dark tbh), mentions of death, very slight slight mentions of infidelity, drugs, alcohol, Reader has low self-esteem/self-worth, demonic manipulation(?), Latin dialogue (cannot claim accuracy!).

Tropes/situational prompts: fantasy/supernatural AU, the villain/monster has feelings (or thots) for you

Kinks: size, cockwarming, belly bulging, praise, possessive, squirting, corruption.

Seasonal prompts: meeting a demon/ghost/witch on All Hallows Eve

Smut dialogue: "You gonna be good for me?" + "I'm gonna make you mine" + "you love it like this, don't you?" + "If you only knew the things I want to do to you" + "Tell me you're mine" + "You wanted my attention, now you have it" + "Please! I can be good. So good for you. I promise" + “You belong to me now” + “Look at that, I think I broke your pretty brain, made you all dumb for me” + "Just a little more" + "Look at how good you're taking me"

Other kinks: mild choking, spanking, overstimulation, dumbification; degradation, thigh fucking, dacryphilia, aphrodisiac/demon trance (if I missed any TW, feel free to lmk)~

A/N: this is the first time that I'm writing Lloyd too so I hope I did him some justice. Also, mild references to the tv show Supernatural (I do not own the lore of TGM nor Supernatural)!

The wood was splotchy– and itched against your skin uncomfortably as you sat on your knees. The ‘devil’s trap’ was intact as you leaned over to complete the chalk-circle. Quickly gazing over the symbol to ensure the correct sigils, you leaned back once more to close your eyes and take a deep breath. You tried your best to calm your body and connect with that part of you justifying the reasons behind calling upon a demon.

“Promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.”

You cringed as you heard your ex’s solemn request echo in your thoughts. Yet again, you made a promise that you couldn’t keep. But this time, it was for his life. His soul. Your relationship was never perfect, and that’s certainly what nipped your romantic relationship in the bud, but you’ve known each other for so long…you couldn’t let him go through with it.

Broken promises was the cycle of your romantic relationship together – whether it was infidelity, drugs, alcohol, all the way to the end of the spectrum where it would also be just him going on extensive hunting trips without proper communication.

You both knew that the relationship was doomed when it started. He wasn’t capable of showing up for you the way that you were ready to do for him. You knew that, that’s why you ultimately ended the relationship.

And yet, here you sit in a mildew-infested, smelly, abandoned church on All Hallow’s Eve - ready to trade places with him.

He was meant to do a lot of good in the world. He was a good hunter, a good brother, and a good friend. He was the main character in a story that you weren’t meant to be a part of, and that’s fine. You didn’t belong in his arc. You were a side character that had a stunted narrative for a while, but didn’t belong nor play any significance into moving the story forward.

When you heard the news about how he made a deal with the crossroads demon, it suddenly clicked on how you could actually do something worthwhile. You knew that he experienced a loss, a real hit from what you’ve heard. They fell in together not long after you both ended your relationship. While that fact spared no pain on your end, you did your best to stuff it down as he obviously loved her enough to have made that deal for her life. So you did what you did best, extended light and support through your pain. Feeling so selfish to have even felt a mark of bitterness.

A hunter’s life is a grim one. Everyone knows that any relationships that you do end up having either end in misery or in blood. But the value of something light and wonderful like love was tempting for people in the life. But, it always seemed to have a cost.

You were a shit hunter, maybe a mediocre person, but maybe, just maybe, your life could have purpose by doing this one thing.

Something that just makes the pain that you have endured worth it.

It was that purpose that hardened your resolve. Any lingering doubts solidified into genuine acceptance as you relaxed your body and invited a deep breath, “I summon you, anima daemonium. Anima obscura, i vocare te.”

You repeated the command two more times until you finally felt it. A warmth that seemed to grow steadily hotter which had you hiss in pain as you felt the sordid temperature through your jeans. The chalk circle in front of you started to beam this blinding, white light that illuminated the dark vast space for a few seconds. Your eyes couldn’t hold open for too long as you scrunched them closed in alert from the sudden, bright visual.

The air in the room became thin and you could feel your lungs expanding to fill them up with as much air as you could with your breath falling heavier with each silent minute that passed. The silence was consciously loud as you looked around the still empty dark space.

“Hmmm…now what’s this?”

You heard a low rumbled, amused voice come from behind you. Your heart was beating so fast and you could feel your stomach just plummet to the floor. He was supposed to manifest within the circle…if he bypassed it like that completely, that meant that he was no ordinary crossroads demon.

A deep and intense fear rose up in your throat as you attempted to ground yourself out of your frozen state. You could feel your body tremble as you slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder only to find a looming, darkened figure standing directly behind you. Your gaze drifted upwards to find the identifying face to the haunting voice and you couldn’t hold back the gasp that left your dry lips.

He was…human. A tall silhouette that exuded an air of danger and allure. His skin seemed to absorb the light around him, contrasting sharply with the piercing, smoldering gaze that flickered an ice blue in the dark. A chiseled jawline gave him an almost otherworldly handsomeness, while his full lips, donned with a daring mustache, curved into a knowing smile that hinted at secrets best left unspoken.

Your confusion to his form, and his looks, felt like an aside as you took in this almost invisible yet loudly formidable being standing over you.

“Who are you?” Your lips moved faster than your brain could register any coherent thoughts. Your curiosity peaked the moment that you saw him appear in the space.

The handsome demon merely chuckled at your confusion before indicating towards his own body. “This meat suit? Mmmm, not too sure. A poor, unfortunate soul shrouded in his own darkness enough for me to climb into him and take over.” A resounding smirk followed his explanation as he narrowed his gaze at you with an interest that you couldn’t place.

You could only stammer out, “B-but, you’re h-human?” You looked over his figure again as he donned an unorthodox causal fit that you would never have pegged a demon, or honestly anyone, to wear. But with the way that he carried himself, the demon’s confidence was palpable. He was comfortable in this physical form, that’s for sure. The power that was exuding from him was staggering.

The demon cooed at your naivety, “Oh, sunshine. You have no idea who you’ve called and what you’ve just done, do you?”

He moved with a grace that was both mesmerizing and predatory as he knelt down to meet your petrified stare. There was an intoxicating aura about him, a magnetic pull that made it impossible to look away, even as a primal instinct warned of the peril he represented. His presence was electric, a heady mix of danger and desire, making it clear that this was a being not to be trifled with—a seducer cloaked in darkness, where charm and menace intertwined seamlessly.

You’re frozen in place in dual fear and pure fascination as he leaned forward into your personal space to clutch your chin with two fingers, prodding up your face for his invasive inspection. You weirdly felt awkward as you knelt before him under his scrutinous gaze. Piercing blue eyes were washing over the features, nooks-and-cranny, details of your face. Every so often, he would tilt your head to the side to inspect your profile, all the way down towards your kneeling body, and just smirk.

After 5 minutes of his torturous appraisal, he let go of your chin suddenly only to lean closer to your face. His pointed nose brushed yours so lightly, you couldn’t help the urge to look down at his mouth, feeling the hairs of his mustache graze your skin. But you could also see and almost feel the softness of his pink lips. His smirk grew on his face as if he figured something out as he turned to brush said lips against yours very faintly, almost teasingly.

You gasped at the unexpected contact and a haze washed over you that you didn’t question and felt compelled to close your eyes. Almost as if you didn’t, you would pass out from the intensity of the contact of the potential of his kiss. You leaned in slowly as your mouth was almost waiting for the pressure of his teasing brush…but it never came.

Coming back to yourself, almost like out of a trance, you gasped harshly at noticing the proximity between the two of your bodies and pushed against his chest to sit inside of the chalk circle to gain distance.

Breathing heavy at how close you just were to this supernatural inane being, you cursed yourself for letting yourself get entranced into his allure as it hit you.

“You’re an incubus.” A sneer was released unconsciously at the realization. The demon’s smirk only softened at your disdained use of the term and his only response was to deeply hum in confirmation.

“I suppose that is one name that people know me by…but I sense that you may not be so comfortable with that. How about we go with…’Lloyd’?” He proposed as he stood up with his hands in his slack-pockets.

You ignored his comfortable jeering to stand from your coveted position within the circle. “I didn’t call for you, incubus. I’m here for a crossroads demon.” You clarified sneeringly.

“And yet again, another name that people may know me by.” Lloyd said simply with another smirk on his face. He couldn’t help but let his gaze wander over your shifting body once more. You certainly looked like a hunter, but your ignorance and naivety gave you away at how utterly unskilled/trained you were in the craft.

The realization made Lloyd’s dark soul tremble in excitement at the potential of catching a brazen, beautifully innocent, yet idiotic soul like yours. And to feast on one that looks like you, with an energy so devoting and submissive…he was suddenly ravenous.

The haze that you felt earlier felt almost like a white, hot energy that was wading towards you when you noticed ‘Lloyd’s’ gaze shifting over your figure once again but with this newfound hunger in his eyes. You shifted uncomfortably as your body responded to the shift in the air. You couldn’t help but close your eyes briefly in shame as you felt it…the wetness that was accumulating in your underwear.

It didn’t matter that he was a literal sex demon who preyed on women– it was like all boundaries didn’t matter as you felt a similar urge to throw all inhibitions out the window, stalk over to him to have him throw you down on the dusty, creaking floor to just take you over and over again as you begged him for more.

You shook your head to clear your sinful thoughts, knowing that demons can sense wicked thoughts– but to your detriment, Lloyd seemed to clock something about your tense and conflicted frame and suddenly inhaled deeply.

You knew that you were caught when you saw that his cocked head straightened in discovery at smelling your arousal in the musty space. He released a deep grunt as his eyes rolled to the back of his head in pleasure. The atmospheric drop in the air was palpable and the room became so distinctly warm, you could feel sweat dropping on your temple at the change.

Panting at the sudden rise in heat and thinning air, tears started to build in your eyes at looking over the demon’s now darkened gaze. He looked like he was going to attack you, and it didn’t scare you that you may lose your life nor was it that he would take you without consent.

What was scary was that you wanted him to take you. You wanted to feel him in his own heat on your bare, naked skin as he thrusted his hard cock into your eager pussy and feel the supernatural strength of his grip holding your hands above your head. So much so that you wouldn’t be able to escape him. You didn’t want to leave him, you wanted him to devour you.

You tried to shake your head out of these fantasies and get back to the present but the heat wouldn’t let you. The haze felt so strong. You could hear yourself mumbling something about the heat and subconsciously took off the denim jacket you’re wearing in desperation to feel cool.

In your present view, you could see Lloyd walk determinedly towards you and you found a consciousness present enough to take a few steps back to the tops of the chalk circle. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to enter it, that’s why he bypassed it in the first place. A demon’s trap is meant to do exactly that, he wouldn’t risk losing his prey and enter the circle where you could easily escape.

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, Lloyd’s eyes narrowed in mirth as he released a dark chuckle and stopped before entering the circle. “Oooh, sunshine, you’re so cute to think that you could escape me now. You wanted my attention, now you have it.”

He took one dramatic step inside.

Your eyes widened in shock, not being able to process what he was doing and you turned to run out but you couldn’t.

You physically could not leave the circle as you felt an invisible barrier brush against your hands that were banging against them to desperately leave. “NO! What’s happening, no–,” you gasped out, tears started to roll down your flushed cheeks as you felt him close. What was worse was that even though you wanted to get away, you wanted him to get even closer. To keep you inside of the circle with him. Delightfully trapped.

A large, warm hand touched your shoulder and spun you around as you shrieked. Tears of panic and confusion were still streaming down your face. Using the sudden invisible barrier as a wall, you shrunk yourself against it as much as you could, trying to resist the confusing and tempting pull, but it didn’t work. Lloyd gripped your waist and pulled you tight against him, your body non-resisting to his touch even though your mind protested.

Your hands reacted to instinctively catch yourself against his suddenly bare chest. You released another squeak at the feeling of his skin. The heat of his naked torso felt so relieving against yours.

“Just like you thought he would feel like…” You thought to yourself, eyes narrowed in its seeming haze. The part of you that was still conscious and afraid frowned at the feeling of his skin on yours. Looking down, the both of you were bare naked.

“What- !” You shrieked, not even remembering when or how your clothes disappeared. A wave of insecurity rushed through you at the vulnerability that you were left with in front of Lloyd, who although is a demon, was shaped like a Greek god. You felt as if dignity was taken away from you as Lloyd’s hands wandered over the skin of your naked back and up towards the back of your neck. His touch was not forcing though, it was as light as a teasing feather.

You tried, you really did, to get away from his wandering, sinful hands but he felt so smooth, warm, and so comforting. The reality was that you didn’t want to get away as he kept you pressed against him where you could feel everything. His hardened cock that you weren’t able to really look at earlier was firmly pressed against the pudge of your stomach. You couldn’t tell where the intense rush of heat was coming from, whether it was this haze or him, but you felt it flushed in your cheeks at feeling Lloyd’s erection. The knowledge that he was turned on by you.

“Of course I am, little one. Look at you. So beautiful before me. Calling for me. I'm gonna make you mine.” Lloyd murmured seductively as he responded to your hazed thoughts. His other hand moved to grip the front of your neck carefully.

He wasn’t choking you, his grip was deceivingly light, but the promise of it was what had you whimpering in response. You just barely registered how he was able to give you a response to something that was being noticed in your head.

“What’s happening to me? How are you doing this?” The only curiosities that your clouded mind was able to circle around were asked as his grip turned your face upwards to sultry and lustfully graze your lips against his.

Lloyd wickedly grinned and hummed again before he murmured his response against your pillowy lips, “You’re sleeping, sunshine.”

You could only look up into his mirth-filled eyes as you mildly registered the shock settling in your system. “No, that can’t be…I drove here and drew the circle, I called…” you drifted in your disbelief as Lloyd turned your bodies so that he was behind you. Your view no longer obscured by his taut body, you looked down to see your limp body…just laying there, seemingly unmoving.

Your eyes only widened more as Lloyd petted your hair soothingly, sensing your distress. “Oh my god, I’m dead. I’m. dead.” Flooded with panic, your body was frozen as your thoughts ruminated in a vicious cycle.

Almost condescendingly, he noted carelessly, “You’re not dead, little one. Your body is in what we call, the in-between. Or purgatory, as some may say.”

A high-pitched ring sang in your ears as you tried to take in Llloyd’s words. “But, I didn’t let you in. I didn’t give you permission.” You remarked disbelievingly as you tried to recall the regulations and rules surrounding demon possession. It’s only if you invite them into your soul, do they insert themselves, almost brutally, into your physical body and spirit. But you didn’t say the words…

“Didn’t you though?” Lloyd deviously smiled again in response to your disbelief. He hummed against your skin as he proceeded to inhale your hair and down towards your inner neck.

Unknowingly, your eyes closed deliriously as you felt his breath brush against your skin. Lloyd nosed your shoulder affectionately while he revealed mockingly, “Sealed with a kiss – a brush against the lips is all it takes to bind a human soul with a demon. And you, sunshine, are the sweetest soul that I’ve taken in a long, long time.”

His cerulean blue eyes met your shocked filled irises as he witnessed the reflective realization wash over you. Noticing the tears in your eyes, Lloyd thought that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you did right then and there.

He cooed at you again and turned your frozen frame to face him once more. “Aw, little one. I promise to take good care of you. If you only knew the things I want to do to you.”

Lloyd’s large hands grasped the back of your head to pull you hard onto his weathered lips. You were stunned at the sudden move but also couldn’t hold back the pleasured moan that left your throat at the feeling of his wet tongue caressing yours. You’ve never been kissed like this in your life– feeling cherished or owned by somebody…something else. And it felt so fucking good.

An insidious and sudden gratification came over your body as your hands clutched onto Lloyd's muscular frame to clutch yourself to his body. The heat felt overwhelmingly dangerous as you kissed the incubus demon with as much eagerness as he was extending upon your aching lips.

You couldn’t remember the reason as to why you even came here in the first place, nor do you even recall where you were at that moment. All you could feel was Lloyd as he kissed you languidly and passionately. He was all that you wanted to feel.

Breaking the kiss, Lloyd drew back but kept his hands in your hair to ensure his control. "You gonna be good for me, sunshine?"

The only thing you could do is cry desperately as the warmth overtook your body once again. Feeling flushed and needy for his skin on yours, you wantonly cried out, “Yes! I promise I’ll be such a good girl for you, Lloyd. Please! I can be good. So good for you. I promise. Please.”

You didn’t sound like yourself at all, but at that moment, you couldn’t find anything in you to care. You were desperate for him. You only wanted to be touched, wanted, and seen by him. Almost as if you needed him to know how devoted you were to giving him all of you, your soul.

Lloyd’s eyes rolled back in his head in derived pleasure as he smelled the desperation and need come off of you in waves. He nuzzled your nose against his with a gratified hum and said, “Tell me you're mine. You need to say it, sunshine, and then I’ll give you whatever you want.”

In one breath, you didn’t even hesitate, “I’m yours. Please, I let you in.”

Hearing the words explicitly spoken from your pouty lips, Lloyd growled out possessively while granting you another deep and wet kiss. As he pulled back, his teeth bit your bottom lip slowly and seductively as he finished the deal against your pursed lips, “You belong to me now.”

A binding force tingled from your feet and up all over your body once his words were spoken. It felt ethereal and other worldly, but it felt right. You didn’t even recognize what you’ve just done as you have suddenly found yourself on your back, Lloyd kissing you so softly, it felt so contrasting to his demonic nature.

“I’ve treated all of my soul thralls as I see fit in the past. Though you, little one, are by far the brightest soul that I’ve come across in a millenia. Right when I saw you kneeling right by my feet, those eyes looked up at me so delicately. There was longing in your gaze that I needed for myself. Seems like you knew that you needed me too, hm?”

You only could nod preciously against his soft lips as you pursued another kiss from him. Your tongue sought his as you battled for his attentive mouth, and before you knew it, just as you predicted and wanted, he was laying you on top of the chalk-drawn circle.

Not even registering the cold harsh wood against your back, you felt so enveloped by his aura. Something internally shifted as you felt that warmth that radiated from your physical body internalize and bloom into something so wholesome, almost as if you felt that hole in your heart repair into a strong, full organ that wanted for nothing.

You felt complete.

A gasp escaped you as you broke away from the impassioned kiss. The warmth in your chest seemed to materialize all over your body, inside of you and out. A keening moan left your mouth as you felt the heat start to rush down to your core between your legs. Another gush of wet just seeped out of you and Lloyd growled as if he could feel it escaping too.

You questioned him breathlessly against his impatient lips, “What’s happening?”

Another whimper left your throat as you felt this deep desire from before just amplify into something that felt not of this earth. It felt transcendent, ancient, and light. It felt like a high that tuned up the feeling of pleasure and ecstasy so that any brush of Lloyd’s skin on yours, the smell of him, the ridges of his muscular body, turned you on so delightfully.

Lloyd teasingly brushed his lips against the exposed length of your neck and you could feel his smirk almost seep into your skin with the following words.

“Our souls just became one, sunshine.”

A brief moment of panic escaped that cloud of bliss that overcame your conscious body and mind. Sensing your panic, Lloyd cooed at you once more to provide a comfort that you didn’t know that you needed in that moment. A reassurance of sorts against the thought that this feeling between you in this moment was fleeting and temporary.

“Don’t worry, little one. I’m yours just as much as you are mine. Forever.” His lips whispered against yours intimately before he licked into your yearning mouth, capturing your tongue in another heated dance.

His words lit a fire deep inside of you and you felt your pussy clench on nothing but his promise. You gasped and tilted your head back in pleasure as Lloyd proceeded to press heated kisses down your throat and towards your breasts.

“Forever?” You gasped out as your lungs tried desperately to breathe in more air. The conscious part of you incredulously realized that all of this made no sense to you. How was he able to read your body so well? Your thoughts? How is he able to impact you like this? Give you the greatest pleasure and burning desire that you’ve ever felt in your entire life?

Taking a pert nipple into his mouth, his tongue brushed over the tip teasingly while you pressed his head closer to your chest at the sensation.

“A soul contract is an everlasting bond between your soul and mine. You have something valuable that I need, and so did you. I just needed you to submit to me, give yourself completely to me in order to make the trade.” He spoke in between placing wet kisses on your sternum to switch his attention to your other breast. Blowing cold air on your nipple, Lloyd smirked and darkly chucked as he witnessed you tremble in delight. You sobbed at feeling the cold air brush against your warm skin, a temporary aid in relief for more.

“But, you didn’t even know what I wanted.” You attempted to recall the reasons as to why and when you summoned him. Although, you were unsuccessful as that part of you was dimming as time went by, especially the more that you felt Lloyd descend closer towards your heated core.

Lloyd chuckled against the smooth flesh of your soft tummy and to your detriment, kissed his way back up towards your lips. After taking you apart with his fervent mouth once more, he gathered your clenched fists to hold them against the sodden wood in one strong grip.

Your wrists were now caught in his powerful hold and he leaned in close to capture your yearning gaze. His eye contact was so intense as he stared back, even though he already had your soul, it was almost like he was trying to peer inside.

“You didn’t really want to save that piece of trash hunter, did you?” He kissed your cheek innocently as you felt a shock wave up towards your newly-filled heart.

“How did you…? But I didn’t say anything about him…” Your shock was on full display as he continued to press small kisses over the frozen expression of your face.

“He abandoned you. Mistreated you. He left you for another woman, and you still wanted to go and save him?” He whispered darkly against the swell of your ear before pressing delicate kisses to your earlobe. Nipping lightly, he continued to murmur ominously, “He isn’t worthy of your loyalty, little one. So, I decided to take it instead.”

A tear fell down your cheek at the feelings of loss and sadness, memories of your old life flashing behind your bewitched eyes. Lloyd quickly licked up the fallen tear with a growl, “He didn’t deserve you, sunshine. You and I both know that even though you came here for him, you really came here for yourself. You wanted to give yourself to something that could actually hold you. Tame you.”

Your deepest thoughts of yourself being verbalized by Lloyd in such an unconcerned manner brought more flashes to recent memories, it played like a movie in your mind’s eye. Moments where you felt that abandonment by your ex, hearing his resolute voice on the phone as he mentioned the deal with a demon for the ‘love of his life’, a woman who wasn’t you.

Pressing kisses to the corner of your eye that was now freely leaking fresh tears, Lloyd made sure to nuzzle you in comfort, “But you weren’t meant for that life. A life that only involved the killing of creatures, demons– living a hunter’s life wasn’t what you were destined for, little one.”

Your teary gaze met his confident blue eyes as he leaned over you once more, “Don’t you see, sunshine? You were made and meant for me. And for me alone.”

With that, Lloyd pressed his curled lips against you harshly and any traces of sadness or loneliness left your soul. A feeling of wanting to be possessed completely by him replaced the aloneness that came over you from before. It was like he was the only cure.

Eagerly and recklessly losing yourself in the enriching feeling, you were almost inhaling his kiss as you pressed your naked body up into his. Feeling his erection against your inner thigh, you writhed against him to finally make him take you.

"You love it like this, don't you? The fact that I own you and now, I’m going to ruin you, little one." Lloyd groaned against your warm and willing skin. Shifting just so, you gasped as his hard cock brushed against your weeping pussy.

“Answer me, my little thrall.” Lloyd allowed you to grind against his cock but just barely against your slit. Fucking into your wet and slippery thighs, you whimpered and tried to rock your hips closer to him to push him inside you.

“Yes! I love it! I need you to take me, please! I don’t want to be alone anymore, please.” You begged the demon as the tears returned, feeling this want and power surge through you as your soul and body fully submitted to him. It was so overwhelming. All you knew was that his possession helped smother the darkest depths of yourself from coming out. He welcomed you into himself and you gladly gave it to him.

Lloyd groaned quietly and deeply inhaled the darkest of truths that were emoting from your pheromones within the crook of your neck while he whispered seductively, “Ah, there it is. Thank you, sunshine. Shush now, my good girl.”

He raised his head to look into your weepy eyes once more, “You’re never going to be alone again.” A soft smile graced the strong features of his face and a warmth full of genuine love blossomed inside of you at the sight. Around your repaired heart sat Lloyd’s genuine smile, such a stark contrast to darkness that you would’ve ever expected to receive from the incubus.

The warmth only expanded as Lloyd pushed his cock inside of you with one smooth thrust, your wetness facilitating the most pleasurable union. Instantly, your eyes rolled back in complete bliss as you were so worked up, it was the feeling of his girthy cock just sliding inside of you that made you come undone. You cried out in pure ecstasy and a ringing sound numbed around your ears where you could barely hear Lloyd’s wicked chuckle as he praised you for surrendering yourself to him.

He didn’t stop thrusting inside of you, not even when you clenched around him so tightly that he gritted his teeth at the sensation. His cock was stretching you out and hitting spots deep inside of you that no lover ever could– the gratification of finally being joined together was just too much. His hands weren’t idle as they caressed your breasts and roughly groped your waist, down towards your plush ass where he slapped the reddening flesh.

He slapped your ass again and tilted his hips so that you could feel him go even deeper. You released a squeak at the novel feeling and Lloyd took that as his opportunity to slow his pace, but not lessening the controlling grip that he had around your waist. You marveled and whimpered at the thought of seeing his marks on your body later as you tore you apart.

Going deep and slow, his thrusts became harder and your body jolted with every thrust he gave you as you were inundated with how good his cock felt, finally reaching the spot inside of you that made your mind go blank. It activated that switch where your body just went limp and you felt even more vulnerable to the demon’s ravaging. You didn’t even care to feel embarrassed by your loud moans and whimpers, nor the drool that was escaping you. Your eyes simply rolled shut as you lost yourself in the consistent press against your g-spot.

“Aw, look at that, sunshine. I think I broke your pretty brain, made you all dumb for me.” Lloyd had a smug smirk on his face, accentuating his intimidating presence even more.

You could only release quiet ‘ngh’s as if in a trance as he continued to fuck you hard and deep. The knot in your stomach started building again as tears of heartfelt satisfaction and adoration filled you once more. You couldn’t describe it, but it was like Lloyd was fucking you with purpose and intent to show you that you were truly made for him. Almost as if he already knew all of your kinks and was exploiting them for proof– evidence that he will always be what you need.

“Thaaat’s it, just a little more," he groaned out and readjusted his grip so that he could tilt your hips just right until your eyes opened in startled ecstasy, a cry leaving your lips as his cock went even deeper. “There you go, my little thrall. Look at how good you're taking me." He gestured to the slight bulge protruding from your lower stomach. The sight of his cock being that deep inside of you was what had you shatter around him for the second time.

You released a guttural moan as you let go, barely coming down from your orgasm when Lloyd decided to rub your swollen, drenched clit with the rough of his thumb. Your back arched and your legs thrashed until Lloyd held down your body and fucked you faster with his thumb still placing frantic pulses on your bundle of nerves.

At your limit, your face contorted into an expression that can only depict unrestrained and unexpected bliss as you screamed out your orgasm, squirting all over Lloyd’s wide cock.

The feeling of your sopping cunt gripping his cock made Lloyd release a dark, guttural and infernal roar as he came inside of your still pulsing channel. He gave you three more half-hearted thrusts as his spend leaked around his cock, inadvertently pushing his cum deeper inside of you.

Lloyd caressed your trembling thighs soothingly as he also attempted to catch his breath. He couldn’t help the last resounding smack against your supple flesh as he noticed your fucked out expression. Eyes wilted with pleasured exhaustion, your body shaking as exhilaration died down.

“You're so beautiful like this, sunshine." He moaned adoringly as he pulled his half-hard cock out of your still quivering pussy. You moaned at the loss of him and could feel your shared cum dripping out of you.

“Mmmm, a sight that will never tire me, I’m sure.” Lloyd groaned out deeply with his smirk still upon his pink lips. He leaned over you for a moment to continue taking in your post-coital glow. He pressed a hand to your chest covering your heart and shuddered at the warming feeling it brought him under his palm.

What you would find out later is that every sensation that you felt, he felt. Your thoughts were now his thoughts too. Your desires were his. While you were exhausted from your soul celebrations, the enmeshment gave Lloyd an invigorated rush of power. He only took pieces of you with every orgasm he gave you. Your heightened arousal would become his, and so on, everytime that he would take you.

The way that his own empty hearted chest filled with a lightness and charge that he’d never felt before since his existence. He knew that he would, indeed, keep you forever.

Lloyd genuinely smiled in satisfaction as he felt power rushing through his veins. Nuzzling your flushed cheek with affection, he murmured, “Now, little one, let’s go home, shall we?”

Final A/N: Welp! that happened. I originally was writing this SoftDark!Demon!Lloyd as a stand-alone from this poll but when the Hootenanny challenge was announced, I thought it would be a perfect fit 😈 Hope you enjoyed reading this ficlet, and reblogs/comments are very welcome~

Tag List: @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @mercurial-chuckles @caplanbuckybarnes @autumnrose40

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bones4thecats · 9 months ago

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What Are They Like As Parents? - Hazbin Hotel

Type of Writing: Random Idea Characters: Vox, Valentino, Velvette, and Alastor Name: What Are They Like As Parents? Idea-Gifter: Random Thoughts

A/N: This is basically an AU where they married their S/O in real life and had a child with them back then. But, due to issues with birth, their S/O died with the child. So there will be trigger warnings when it comes to that. Also, the type of demon the reader is is listed below! Have a nice rest of your days/nights, my lil bubbles🫧

P.S: The Reader goes through birth, so they're headcanoned as female, but a gender is not fully noted

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Death, Swearing, Miscarriage, and mentions of Assault ⚠️

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Technological-Demon! Reader ; Medical Technology

📺 Vox and you were very close when alive. Growing up together and eventually falling in love and marrying

📺 Sooner rather than later, you were expecting a baby boy, in which you two decided to name him (M/N). Unfortunately, due to difficulties during birth, Vox had lost not only his unborn child, but he lost his spouse

📺 Ever since that day, the man had driven himself further into his work, trying to push the memories of you both with your bump past him, he didn't want to remember how you smiled so gently at him as you died, or how the doctors tried saving you as blood erupted around your form

📺 It was because of how he held himself to such a low-degree that Vox had passed away, and due to his actions in life, he was banished to hell

📺 He believed he deserved it, but now he could start anew, and that was where he grew back into power and eventually met a fairly new Overlord, one that had your same name

📺 Once he asked you and learned that you and your son were transferred to hell, he grew upset, why on Earth were you, the sweetest being he had ever known sent to hell? And why was his son, who never did anything in life, get sent here?!

📺 Every other Overlord, besides Alastor, was on-edge when your small son crawled out from your hand, being nothing but small shocks before turning into a mixture of Vox and your's demon forms

📺 He just smiled lightly and kneeled in front of his child, patting him on the head and declaring how he'd protect you guys till the end of time, in no way was he going to allow you guys to slip from his grasp again

📺 Now, as your son was made into the form of a young child (4-6), Vox always tried to keep his anger on the down-low. He didn't want his son to only see his father angry and full of rage

📺 While he may seem like a horrible father at first, once he got used to the fact that your child was interested in your occupations, you being a medic of the Overlords and him being the head of VoxTek, he smirked at Valentino and Velvette before holding his child and gloating about his company

📺 Speaking of the other two Vees, they adore your child. Valentino loves to help your son with his social skills, and he tries keeping his business on the down-low around him, he doesn't need to get shocked or nearly have his wings amputated by Vox and you again

📺 Velvette on the other hand, she loves to test her outfits on your child, from helping him find the most suitable outfits to having him listen to something on her phone as she speaks to her two main allies during a meeting, she is honestly a decent aunt

📺 Vox also has a wild obsession with watching Alastor fail, so if he were to ever see the Radio Demon talking to you or his son, he'd lose his shit, not caring who was there to watch

" I swear to fuck, you old-timey shit-stain, if you ever try touching my S/O or my son again, I'll fucking kill you and drag your corpse all around hell for the all people to see. "

Insect-Demon! Reader ; Rosy Maple Moth

❣️ Valentino and you married quite early in life and had a very active life

❣️ It was due to your shared actions that you found of you were pregnant quite early, which made him try calming down from his actions and begin to coddle you

❣️ Unfortunately for him, your body couldn't quite handle the stress of birth, resulting in your demise, along with your daughter. And due to this event, he was driven mad

❣️ This was where he developed his abusive personality, constantly yelling and assaulting his workers, including Angel Dust when he first arrived and signed a contract

❣️ It took a while, but one he had heard about a new Overlord that looked a lot like Valentino (in terms of species) with a daughter that looked nearly identical, he decided to attend the next meeting without his fellow Vees

❣️ It only took a quick glance for him to know exactly who you were, in life you loved to mess around with roses, so it only made sense that you'd become a demon in relation to that plant

❣️ Once the meeting ended, Valentino walked up behind you and hugged you, wrapping his larger wings around your form as he felt your tiny orange-yellow antenna tickle his chin

❣️ Valentino also loves his baby girl a lot, spoiling the young girl with everything she could ever want

❣️ Once you and her walked back into his life, everyone within his studio learned who you were quickly, you were the long-time spouse of Valentino's, and the father to his young daughter

❣️ They also took notice of how more collected he was, and while he did have his moments of anger, he rarely ever laid a hand on his employees, unless he got angry enough

❣️ Valentino also swore on his afterlife that he would never touch anyone in the ways that he would touch you or your daughter, which allowed your new friend, Angel Dust, to be more free with his time

❣️ Much like Vox, he doesn't seem like he'd be a good parent. And they're kinda right, but only with certain situations

❣️ Valentino doesn't know what to do when it comes to certain scenarios, like when your daughter asked where children came from and you had to wrap your pink and yellow wings around his mouth to silence him from giving a very detailed story of how she came into existence

❣️ Vox and Velvette are also fairly involved with helping him raise his child, Velvette loves to help her dress, from giving her small clips to put in her hair to giving her full-fledged outfits, she spoils her just as much as Valentino does

❣️ Vox also spoils her, but he also knows when to be strict, he mostly just watches her whenever Valentino and you get busy with running the studio in V Tower. He's been declared the 'Godfather'/'Uncle' of your baby

Bird-Like-Demon! Reader ; Peacock

📳 Velvette and you agreed that you'd raise your child together, despite knowing that it wasn't her own, rather, it was your ex-husband's

📳 He had abandoned you with your unborn baby a few months prior to you and Velvette married, and it was on your honeymoon that you went into labor

📳 Sadly, you had lost the baby, and eventually lost your life due to internal injuries just a few months later, prompting your wife to go a hint overboard with her actions

📳 When she died, she never expected to see you sitting across from her at an Overlord meeting, your long tail feathers falling onto your lap where a small boy sat, playing with them

📳 She looked up in shock as you told her of your son, how you both were banished here, your son due to the fact that he had the potential to due just a horrid things as you, and that angered her

📳 Velvette loves to mess around with your feathers that laid behind your head, the ones that only flare up when upset or feeling any kind of strong emotion

📳 She also adores to have you carry her, since she was fairly short when it comes to sinners, and you were very tall when it came to the species

📳 Now, when it comes to your son, she loves to dress him up, acting as if he was a small mannequin that she needed to make look as gorgeous as possible, and thankfully he looks a lot like you, meaning if something looked good on you, it would no doubt look good on him as well

📳 If your ex-husband ever came by to take his son back, she would straight-up ruin his life, literally. She'd post everything around to make him lose his title, and if that didn't work, she'd just kill him, she doesn't care which he chooses

" I swear to you, (R/N). If you ever, ever, try to come here and demand to have the son that you abandoned in the first place, I will do two things. I'll ruin your fucking afterlife by stripping your title away, and I'll make sure during the next Extermination, you get a very long and fucking long death, try me, bitch-boy. "

📳 Velvette also is a fairly good step-mother to your son, she loves to give him small trinkets she finds around. One time she came home with a small present from the store, and when your son looked at the tiny necklace that opened to show holographic photos of you three together, you couldn't help but fall for her even more

📳 Much like with the other Vees, she does involve Valentino and Vox with her step-child's life

📳 On average, she has Valentino just help watch him, leaving Vox being the head of watching him, she doesn't need to have you on her ass about how Valentino took her son to the studio to observe his work

📳 Vox is the official 'Grandfather' of your son, while Valentino is more like the 'Funcle' of the two

Mythical-Creature-Demon! Reader ; Wendigo

🔘 Alastor and you shared a lot in common during life, from your cannibalistic and murderous crimes, you both bonded over the fact that you were able to keep it all away from people's eyes, despite your high-ranks in society

🔘 He was the head of his own radio broadcast, while you were the head of a small orphanage that took in any child that was needing a home without any problems

🔘 Ever since Mimzy introduced the two of you and you learned of your situations, you decided to 'help' one another out, and by that, I mean by covering for one another

🔘 This teamwork led to you guys falling in love, in a twisted way that is. He loved you for how you would just casually keep a smile on, and you loved him because of his owl personality

🔘 While many didn't expect him to ever fall in love, due to him being a canonical aromantic, they did find it funny to watch him just smile and treat you like a member of royalty

🔘 He never really did find a need for intimate actions, but one drunken night and a lot of pregnancy tests later, you found of you were carrying his child, alerting him to keep you away from your previous crimes. He didn't need you or the child getting harmed

🔘 Alastor may not have shown it, but he was very heartbroken when the doctor released the news that you had lost your baby, and eventually your own life

🔘 Knowing due to your crimes that you'd end up in hell, Alastor would sit at your grave and speak of how he'd see you sometime soon

🔘 And he was right. He had found you once again during his first Overlord meeting, what he did not expect was seeing your young son sitting on your lap while gnawing on a small hunk of deer meat

🔘 He knew that this was your shared child, and he welcomed the youngling with open arms and a fully-fledged smile, his sharp teeth matching his son's

🔘 Speaking of your son, he loves to spend time with his father, learning how to play the piano and singing old songs with him as you stood off to the side with Husk and Niffty, watching the boys have fun

🔘 Alastor only allows you and your son to really touch him without many warnings, and while it took a lot to get used to, he loves watching him randomly grab his staff and try singing in the microphone

🔘 Much like his father, your son can use tentacles and use his powers to make his voice radio-sounding, and it is the funniest thing to watch members of the Hotel go nuts hearing so much of the noise

🔘 Due to being the son of the Radio Demon and the Wendigo Overlord, many don't even dare trying to touch your son, well, except for Vox and Lucifer

🔘 Vox one time had decided to try holding your son without permission, resulting in him being sent flying across the meeting room by your husband

🔘 And when Lucifer first arrived and began to tickle your son to make him laugh, he stood off to the side with his ears pushed backwards in irritation, watching his son smile by such a fatherly action not being made by him was annoying

🔘 And, because of your declaration, you named the members of the Hotel as your son's 'Godfathers'/'Godmothers', only having Husk and Niffty as the 'Siblings' of your son

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outoftheseine · 1 year ago

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- SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY FIC RECS -

a lot of dad!simon fics here. i am not sorry. i want to bear this man's child(ren) | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!

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SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

haunted | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (heavy angst, tw: depression, drugs, addiction suicide, toxic relationship, please read the warnings!)

too old for you | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x medic!fem!reader

↳ by @lunarw0rks (smut, hurt/comfort, age-gap)

soft spot • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @cordeliawhohung

the red means, i love you • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader x john 'soap' mactavish

↳ by @thewriterg

smashing pumpkins • simon 'ghost' riley x civilian!fem!reader

↳ by @qwimchii

last kiss | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @milf-murdock (angst, unestablished relationship, smut, fluff)

secret lovers | part 2 • husband!simon 'ghost' riley x wife!reader

↳ by @savemefromanepicoftimewasted

my baby swingin' • biker!simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @tojisun (very sexy biker!simon, smut, fluff)

happiness • simon 'ghost' riley x wife!fem!reader

↳ by @lethalchiralium (i feel so fuzzy when i read this series, fluff, sometimes angst, some tw be aware)

i'm with you | keep you close • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @undercoverpena (angst, feelings, explicit)

being yelled at by ghost | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @hxltic (angst! simon is an asshole)

northern attitude | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst)

lights on • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @peachesofteal (single mom!reader, fluff, slight angst, protective!simon)

one night stand | part 2 | part 3 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @cmncisspnandmore

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC'S

break in, break down • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @hyperactively-me (home invasion, comfort, fluff)

his girls • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)

one fucking mistake • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @codfanficedits (very angsty, hurt but no comfort for a whilez grieving, tw:depression)

book boyfriend • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @stargirlrchive (fluff)

lime-sized • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @imperihoe-writes (pregnant!reader, very fluffy)

bloodied bullets, soft confessions • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @ghosts-cyphera (a little mean!simon, hurt/comfort, injuries, fluffy end)

monster • neighbor!simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @rowarn (smut, protective!simon, zombie au)

unmasked love • simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @springtyme (so so so cute! dad!simon)

adoration • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @yawnderu (dad!simon, fluff)

simon 'ghost' riley x sensitive!gn!reader

↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff and nswf content)

this chapter is over • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @colonelarr0w (character death, angst, injuries, some fluff)

simon says • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (smut)

salt in an old wound • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!oc!reader

↳ by @ghouljams (hurt/comfort, explicit content, fae au)

blood on my shirt, rose in my hand • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @alwaysshallow (friends to lovers, the continuation is on ao3!)

antique soldiers • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @mangowafflesss

why? • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, slightly explicit at the end)

cold but warm • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

pretty pink flowers and bloody cherry blossom tree • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @underscorewriting (really really angsty, ugly cried)

for the last time • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @wttcsms (pregnant!reader, mentions of death, angst but fluff)

welcome home • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @nastybuckybarnes (home invasion, arguing, fluff)

medical leave • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @kib-ble (mentions of injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff)

no more stars left to count • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @lvlyghost (angst, hurt/comfort)

protective • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @ponyosmom35 (medic!reader, protective!simon, tw: sexual harassement)

return • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @bruhrobs (fluff, colleagues to lovers, single mom!reader)

949 notes · View notes

deliciousangelfestival · 20 days ago

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The Imperfect Couple - 19 | End

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: Triggering conversation. Character died.

Words Count: 5,588

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

When life seems perfect, it often hides a test—a calm before the storm. For Steve, months after Peggy’s death, everything felt whole, secure. His presidency was steady, bolstered by approval from the public and respect from allies. Policies were sailing through Congress, his popularity was soaring, and his vision for the country was unfolding exactly as planned.

But something gnawed at him, an intuition sharpened by years in the military. A storm was coming—he could feel it.

“Mr. President,” Natasha’s voice cut through his thoughts as she entered the office with a stack of documents in her arms.

“Yes, Natasha?”

She placed a folder on his desk. “Here’s the speech draft for the press conference announcing your engagement to Miss Hazel,” she said, her tone carefully neutral. “If anything… goes south after the announcement.”

Steve took the folder, scanning the first page with a furrowed brow. He plans to introduce Hazel and Nate to the world. The public would need time to adjust to the news, and if the backlash was harsh, he’d be ready with a statement that cast Hazel in a sympathetic light.

“Thank you,” he replied, placing the folder aside.

Just then, the door burst open. An aide stumbled in, looking flushed and frantic. “Mr. President, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you need to see this immediately.” He thrust a tablet onto the desk, his hands shaking slightly as he pressed play.

A news anchor appeared on the screen, her voice grim and insistent. “Breaking news on an international scandal that could shake the nation. Our sources have uncovered what they’re calling ‘Deals in the Dark: Inside the Global Conspiracy Threatening Economic Stability.’”

The words "Steve Rogers" flashed across the screen, and the anchor continued, "Our investigation has linked these troubling deals directly to the highest office in the land.”

Steve’s face blanched. His name—his reputation—was being dragged through the mud in front of the entire country. Rage flared within him as he looked up, his jaw tight. “Get the Vice President in here. Now.”

A tense silence settled over the room as they waited. Moments later, Bucky entered, his expression carefully controlled, his eyes meeting Steve’s with a flash of concern.

“Close the door,” Steve ordered, his voice low and taut.

As the door clicked shut, Bucky stood before him, the weight of the situation hanging between them like a loaded gun. Steve’s hand curled into a fist, his voice barely a whisper but laced with fury. “Did you know about this?”

Bucky looked down, drawing a steadying breath, then met Steve’s piercing gaze. “I knew her was digging into things after her friend died, but… I didn’t know it would go this far.” He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t realize how deep she’d go—or how reckless she’d become.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, a vein throbbing in his temple. “So you’re telling me you had no idea?”

“No, I didn’t,” Bucky admitted, his voice weighted with regret. “And I’m sorry, Steve. I’ll make this right. If you need a name to take the fall… blame me. I’ll shoulder this.”

Steve looked at him, surprised. Here was his Vice President—his friend—willing to sacrifice himself to protect him. It would be so easy to accept the offer, to let Bucky take the brunt of the fallout. It would keep Steve’s image intact, and Bucky could be quietly replaced.

But the advantage of having Bucky loyal by his side was too great. “No,” Steve replied, shaking his head. “This wasn’t your doing. And I need you here, not buried under this scandal.”

Bucky stepped forward, his gaze steady. “It’s alright, Steve. I haven’t done much lately as Vice President anyway. Let me take this on. We’re a team, aren’t we? Your problems are mine.”

Steve paused, looking at him, his anger tempered by the loyalty in Bucky’s eyes. “You’d take this for me?”

“Without hesitation,” Bucky replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Steve exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He extended a hand, and Bucky took it, their grips strong, but their shared look even stronger. Then, in a rare moment of mutual trust, Steve pulled him into a fierce, brotherly embrace.

“Thank you, Bucky,” he murmured, his voice softened with unspoken gratitude.

As they pulled back, Bucky’s expression was resolute. “Whatever’s coming,” he said, his voice low, “we’re facing it together.”

Steve nodded, his mind racing with strategy and resolve. The scandal might be a blow, but with Bucky at his side, he felt fortified, ready to weather the storm—no matter how dark it threatened to become.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

With Bucky's promise still fresh in the air, Steve watched as his vice president worked hard to keep issues from flaring up. Bucky stood tall, his confidence showing as he spoke to reporters and citizens, assuring them that their concerns were being handled. But underneath, Steve could sense the tension in Bucky—his jaw tightened, and worry flickered in his eyes whenever new problems popped up.

Each time one issue seemed to fade, another arose, and it always seemed to lead back to you.

As Steve stood in the Oval Office, the weight of the scandals crashing down around him felt almost suffocating. Illegal domestic surveillance, military manipulation, a nuclear program scandal, and Stark Industries' data misuse—all of it traced back to you. The walls felt like they were closing in as he realized you were the mastermind behind this revelation. Even Bucky was oblivious to the full extent of the details.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the rising tide of anger and betrayal, and faced you across the room. The tension hung heavy in the air, electric and dangerous. “When will you stop?” he demanded, his voice low and filled with barely restrained fury. “This is not only hurting me but also Bucky.”

You met his gaze, unflinching, your own anger simmering just below the surface. “Come and kill me, you crazy sociopath,” you shot back, your voice dripping with defiance.

Steve took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “If you keep doing this, you’ll ruin the future of Nate’s life,” he warned, his tone now tinged with a desperate edge.

“I knew you have a soft spot for him. And I appreciate it,” he sneered. “But imagine him being branded with the image of being the illegitimate child, with his father as the most evil president in history.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “Or you could choose this one: he’ll find out who I really am. Instead of shame, he’ll be proud to be the son of the president.”

“You fucking psycho,” you spat, taking a step back, putting space between you and the weight of your shared history. “Using your own son as your shield.”

Steve shook his head, disbelief mingling with a simmering rage. “You hate me because I killed your friend. Sure, I understand that. But if he were still alive, your husband and I probably couldn’t win the election.”

As the two of you locked eyes, the atmosphere crackled with tension—a brutal dance of hurt and anger, intertwined with a strange sense of familiarity. Steve’s breath quickened, the realization dawning on him that the battle wasn’t just external; it was deeply personal, and it threatened to consume them both.

“Everything is about paying back. Everyone in here knows everyone’s secrets.” Steve's voice was cold, his jaw clenched tightly as he glared at you, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, as if holding back the urge to lash out.

"I hate people like you—the idealistic type," Steve said, his voice low and simmering with frustration. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto yours, the tension in the air palpable. "If you get rid of me, there will only be another just like me."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

After talking to Steve, you returned home, your heart still racing with the weight of the conversation. As you stepped through the door, you saw Bucky waiting for you, his expression unreadable. The moment you locked eyes, tension filled the room.

"You’re just a puppet for Steve," you spat, your voice dripping with disdain. "I’m so ashamed of you."

Bucky's face hardened, his jaw clenched tightly as he stepped closer, his frustration boiling over. "You don’t understand anything! I’m doing what I have to do," he shot back, his tone sharp and defensive.

“Doing what you have to do?” you scoffed, your hands trembling with anger. “You’re covering up Ian’s death! You’re a coward for letting this happen!” Your words hung heavy in the air, each accusation striking a nerve as you paced back and forth, unable to contain your rage.

Bucky’s eyes flashed with a mix of hurt and anger. “You think it’s that simple? It’s not just about me! I have to protect what’s left of this place, even if it means making sacrifices!” He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in the way his fingers curled into his scalp.

You shook your head, refusing to back down. “Sacrifices? You mean sacrificing your integrity? You’ve lost yourself to this game, Bucky! I can’t believe you let Steve manipulate you like this.”

Unbeknownst to both of you, your heated argument was being overheard. Natasha listened intently from the hidden bug that had been planted in the room, her brow furrowed with concern as she glanced at Steve. “Both of them are fighting. Bucky sounds surprised,” she informed him, her tone serious.

Steve leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk forming on his lips. “Good,” he replied, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. He relished the chaos unfolding, knowing that conflict could lead to clarity, both for Bucky and for you. The storm brewing between you two was exactly what he needed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Even though there was turmoil at home, everything had to keep going. Bucky had to accompany Steve to attend the parade. The parade was a vibrant spectacle, a sea of red, white, and blue, with flags fluttering in the crisp air. Cheerful crowds lined the streets, waving banners and chanting the names of their leaders, their excitement palpable.

"Mr. President! Mr. President!" they roared, their voices a chorus of admiration for Steve Rogers, who stood tall and confident, a smile breaking across his face as he waved back. The warmth of the people's adoration radiated around him, but as the crowd's energy surged, the atmosphere felt electric, almost frenetic.

Beside him, Bucky Barnes maintained a more stoic demeanor. Though he wore the badge of Vice President, the cheers seemed to pass over him, fewer and far between. He appreciated the excitement but felt a twinge of disappointment that the cheers weren't for him. He turned to Steve, his brow furrowing slightly, and remarked dryly, "You know, I thought they would be a bit more enthusiastic about me."

Steve had brought Bucky here to entertain him because he knew about the problems between Bucky and you. You're wild and couldn't be tamed.

Steve chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned closer, "Put a leash on your wife, or she'll embarrass this country." His laughter rang out, mingling with the cheers of the crowd, but Bucky's gaze drifted past him, scanning the parade route.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, a hint of agreement in his voice, but his eyes were still fixed on the crowd. There was a tension in the air that he couldn’t quite place.

Steve turned to Bucky, his brow slightly furrowed with concern. "How is she?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Bucky crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his jaw clenched as he replied, "I told her to be quieter."

“Good,” Steve said, his expression softening a bit. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "I’m planning to have Hazel by my side."

Bucky's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. "What?" he exclaimed, his posture tensing as he processed the implications of Steve’s words.

"I knew you’d know," Steve said, a hint of regret creeping into his tone. He stepped closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "And I’m sorry. But I promise you, I will give Hazel and Nate the best future."

Bucky fell silent, the weight of Steve’s promise hanging in the air between them. He looked away for a moment, his thoughts racing, before finally nodding, a mix of resignation and reluctant acceptance etched on his face.

Steve smiled, relief washing over him as he saw Bucky's reaction. There was a sense of camaraderie in the moment, a silent understanding forged in the midst of tension. But as Bucky looked at Steve, his eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty, hinting at the underlying conflict that still simmered just beneath the surface.

"I'm so glad to have you as my partner," Steve continued, sincerity evident in his tone. "May we work together until we die."

"Until we die," Bucky murmured, his voice almost lost in the surrounding commotion.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the noise, calling out, "Barnes!" A hand waved from the throng, the first time anyone had shouted his name that day. Bucky glanced at the person but didn’t respond with a wave like Steve did. Instead, he gave a subtle nod, a flicker of acknowledgment that felt more calculated than celebratory.

In that instant, chaos erupted. "KYAAA!!!"

A sharp crack rang out, slicing through the jubilant atmosphere. Bucky staggered as if struck by a physical blow, his eyes widening in shock.

The cheers turned into gasps of disbelief, and screams erupted as the crowd reacted in panic, some dropping to the ground, others frantically searching for cover. The Secret Service sprang into action, "Protect the Vice-President!", a wall of suits forming around Bucky as people pushed back in terror, the once-cheerful parade transformed into a scene of horror.

"Bucky!" Steve shouted, rushing forward, his heart pounding as he reached his partner's side. The world around him blurred, and all he could focus on was Bucky, crumpling to the ground.

Everyone was shouting, the air thick with fear and confusion, but all Steve heard was the ragged sound of his own breathing and the desperate cry of his friend. "Bucky!" he repeated, urgency lacing his tone.

Bucky's breath came in ragged gasps, his body sprawled on the pavement. The color drained from his face as he struggled to lift his hand, feeling the warmth of blood seeping through his fingers. With a surge of effort, he grasped Steve's arm, pulling him closer, anchoring himself to his partner even as the life slipped away from him. "All hail the President," he managed, his voice weak but resolute.

Steve's expression shifted from shock to horror, his body taut with the weight of impending dread. Bucky's grip tightened, holding him in place as if preventing him from moving, creating a storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm them both. "Bucky, stay with me," he urged, desperation lacing his tone.

Bucky locked eyes with Steve, seeing the fear reflected there. A strange calm washed over him as he whispered, "As Nate's father, this is my gift for you."

Then, without warning, a searing pain tore through Steve’s chest, a sharp shot of agony that rooted him to the spot. The world blurred around him as he struggled to comprehend what was happening, realizing in that instant that he was the true target.

Steve felt the impact before he could process the meaning behind Bucky’s words. The world around them seemed to slow as the realization of betrayal hit him. He caught a glimpse of Bucky's fading form, and in that moment, a twisted smirk crept across his lips. "Well played," he murmured, before the darkness consumed him, and he dropped to the ground.

Bucky’s grip slackened, the warmth of his hand slipping away. Bucky’s body went limp, and as everything turned dark around him, Steve felt his own strength faltering.

That day, which was meant to be a celebration, turned into a day of mourning. Two main leaders of the country were injured, and no one knew who was behind the attack. With the most important figures in the nation harmed, it felt like an embarrassment for a country that prided itself on its strength.

Both parties in the government reached a silent agreement to keep the situation under wraps and portray Steve as a hero.

The news headlines that would follow would echo through history: “The President Dies Protecting the Vice President.” It would be a legacy of sacrifice, a testament to their bond. Steve Rogers would forever be remembered as the only president who lost his life protecting another, a tragedy that would resonate for generations.

Everyone would remember him as a good symbol, sacrificing himself for someone, without recalling the darker aspects of his actions. This was the last gift Bucky gave to him.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

2 days later

Bucky's eyes fluttered open, the sterile brightness of the hospital room piercing through the haze of his coma. As his surroundings came into focus, the first thing he saw was you, your face streaked with tears, a mixture of relief and anger etched across your features.

You rushed to his side, gripping his arm tightly, your voice trembling with emotion. "You idiot! What kind of plan was that? Risking your life?"

Bucky's brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, his voice hoarse but steady. "Didn't I tell you? I will accept it if you hurt me."

Both of you pretended to fight to keep Steve from suspecting anything. He knew how much Bucky loved you, and with the two of you constantly bickering, he wouldn't notice that someone else had hired an assassin.

It was Caroline. She was the one who hired the sniper to take Steve's life. Don’t mess with a mother—or a woman like her.

Bucky getting shot first was all part of the plan. Caroline’s intention was to take out Steve, but Bucky warned her that he would also become a suspect if that happened.

Instead, he proposed that he get hurt first, diverting everyone’s attention to him, allowing Steve to be vulnerable next.

It was a risky plan—an idiotic one, really. But Bucky insisted, determined to see it through despite the danger that loomed over them all.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, a blend of frustration and relief washing over you. You leaned against his chest, resting your head there, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. In that moment, everything else faded away—the anger, the fear—and all that mattered was that he was alive.

Risking his life was necessary to make his plan work. He didn't want the past six years of his efforts to go to waste.

The past six years had been exhausting for Bucky Barnes. He had immersed himself in the treacherous waters of politics, drawn in by the intoxicating taste of power that left a lingering sweetness on his tongue.

He quickly realized that understanding the law was not merely a tool; it was a weapon. Knowledge of loopholes became his advantage, a means to navigate the convoluted game of governance. But knowing the rules wasn’t enough; he needed to be ruthless. That was where Steve Rogers came into the picture—his mentor, a family friend for years, whose facade of integrity masked a far more sinister reality.

In Bucky’s eyes, Steve had always been perfect, a paragon of virtue. But as time wore on, the veneer began to crack, revealing the monstrous truth lurking beneath.

Steve was a predator cloaked in a hero’s guise. His charming smile belied a voracious greed that left a bloody trail in its wake. It was a shock to discover that Steve had been having an affair with Hazel, and now he was the father of Nate, the child whose very existence felt like a dagger to Bucky’s heart.

This betrayal was too much to bear. Bucky’s hatred for the man he once idolized simmered just below the surface, boiling over as he considered how to dismantle the carefully constructed empire Steve had built. Bucky knew the rules; he understood the political landscape better than most. But how could he bring down someone so deeply entrenched in the system?

Despite all his advantages, Steve believed he was the master of this game. No, he wasn’t. Bucky’s confidence swelled as he acknowledged that Steve’s skills—his war experience, his tactical mind—would ultimately falter against the true currency of politics. In this brutal arena, the real gold was connections and money. Behind every politician lurked unseen puppet masters pulling the strings, and Steve was no exception.

Bucky knew that while Steve had forged connections, he lacked the pedigree that defined the upper echelons of power. Steve had been a nobody until Peggy Carter had invited him into their circle, and that was when they made a monumental mistake—choosing Steve. He might have had his allies, but he would never be blue blood like Bucky and Peggy.

Then there was Peggy. The last straw. Bucky’s heart twisted as he recalled the circumstances of her death. He was all too aware that it had been Steve's machinations that had ultimately led to her demise. Bucky had witnessed the toll it took on her, the way she had struggled under the weight of her decisions, her life unraveling in the shadow of Steve's ambition. Bucky’s hands tightened into fists at the memory.

Caroline had been the voice of caution, her words echoing in his mind: “This is why you never bite the hand that feeds you.”

She may not have been a good mother, but she had been a loyal friend to Peggy, always protecting her interests, ensuring that her secrets remained buried. Bucky could see how easily Caroline could hire an assassin, how she moved through the shadows like a whisper, orchestrating the chaos without ever getting her hands dirty.

He never thought you and Caroline would join forces to rid the world of Steve. With each passing day, Bucky felt the walls closing in, the weight of the decisions he had to make pressing down on him like a vice. Steve would fall; it was only a matter of time.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky stood in the Oval Office, a resolute figure beside the iconic Resolute Desk, a Bible open in front of him. The room was thick with anticipation, everyone watching him intently as he prepared to deliver his vow. His posture was firm, shoulders squared, as he looked around at the faces of his colleagues and allies, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He glanced at the words on the page, drawing strength from their meaning as he readied himself to speak.

With a steady voice, he began, "I stand before you today, not just as your president, but as a servant of the people. I vow to uphold the Constitution, to protect the rights of every citizen, and to work tirelessly for the betterment of our nation. Together, we will fight against corruption and ensure that government truly serves the people. I promise to lead with integrity, to listen to your voices, and to bring about the change we so desperately need."

You stood behind him, pride swelling in your chest as you witnessed Bucky fulfill his promise to become president.

Behind you sat Caroline and Julius, the latter in his wheelchair, their expressions a mix of hope and admiration. Bucky’s oldest brother, Shawn, had called to congratulate him, his voice brimming with encouragement. Your brother Tim stood nearby, a smile on his face, reflecting the joy that filled the room. At the back, Hazel lingered, her posture tense and withdrawn, reluctant to stand close to her family.

As the applause began and everyone congratulated Bucky and you, Natasha approached Hazel, who stood near the corner as if she wanted to hide.

Perhaps she was too embarrassed to be there. Before, she had come to the White House as Steve's mistress, and everyone knew who she was but kept their mouths shut. This time, she was here only as Bucky's sister. “I have something for you,” Natasha said, extending an envelope toward her.

Hazel hesitated, her brows furrowing in confusion. “For me?” she asked, glancing from the letter to Natasha, unsure of what to expect.

Natasha nodded, a subtle smile breaking through her serious exterior. “Yes, it’s from Steve.” With that, she stepped back to take her position.

Hazel’s fingers trembled slightly as she took the letter, the weight of it heavy in her hand. As she opened it, memories flooded back, and she felt a rush of emotions. It was a final message from Steve, words that resonated with her deeply.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as Hazel read the heartfelt letter, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Hazel,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m probably no longer living. And that's okay; I've come to accept it. The world I’ve inhabited has been fraught with danger, and I’ve made choices that have led me here.

Hazel, from the moment I met you, it felt like looking into a mirror—a reflection of my own heart and soul. You brought warmth and light into my life, even when I was lost in darkness. Your strength has always amazed me, and I want you to carry that with you as you move forward.

Live the life you’ve always wanted. I’ve made arrangements for you and Nate, ensuring you both have the financial support you need to thrive.

Please, for our Nate, support him and listen to him. He will need you more than ever now, and I have every confidence in your ability to guide him.

If there is a next life, I hope we never meet again. You deserve someone better than me. Now that I’m gone, please try to forget me and the mistakes I made. I genuinely wish you and Nate nothing but the best.

Steve Rogers

P.S. Don’t worry about the twins. They’ve been independent since they were young and have the Carters to guide them. They’ll be okay."

Tears fell onto the letter as Hazel finished reading it.

“Mom?” Nate's small voice broke through her moment of grief.

Hazel looked down at her son, the last legacy of Steve, and quickly wiped her tears away. “Do you want to visit Uncle Steve?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Nate nodded enthusiastically, his bright eyes shining with admiration. “Yes! He’s a hero for saving Uncle Bucky!”

Hazel flinched at the mention of Bucky, but she forced a smile, wanting to be strong for her son. She knelt down to his level and took his small hands in hers, feeling the warmth of his tiny fingers. With her other hand, she clutched the letter written by Steve, a reminder of his love and hopes for her.

Together, they held hands as they walked, Hazel’s heart swelling with determination. Just as Steve had wished, she would live life to the fullest and be a great mother to Nate.

After Hazel and Nate left, Natasha approached Bucky with a serious expression. “Both of them have left,” she informed him.

Bucky turned to her, his demeanor cool and composed, devoid of any trace of warmth. “She read the letter?” he asked, his voice steady and flat.

“Yes,” Natasha replied, nodding her head.

“Did she believe it?” Bucky pressed, his gaze sharp and focused.

“I hired a professional to copy Steve's signature, and I added a bit of his perfume to the paper,” Natasha explained, her tone measured and confident.

“Good.” Bucky’s expression remained impassive, his eyes betraying no emotion. He had written the letter himself, crafting it to sound like it came from Steve. His intention was clear: he wanted Hazel to move on from Steve, to find a new path without the shadows of the past weighing her down. This was necessary for her future, and he understood the sacrifices it took to ensure that.

“Good job.” Bucky looked at Natasha again, and she nodded in acknowledgment.

It was a curious alliance—how could a loyal supporter of Steve choose to work with Bucky? The answer lay in humanity. Natasha had pledged her loyalty to Steve because he saved her from the chaos of war when she had no one to turn to. In her eyes, he was a hero, and she had turned a blind eye and deaf ear to his misdeeds, including the affair with Hazel.

But everything changed when she witnessed the heartlessness Steve displayed toward Peggy. The righteous man she once admired had morphed into a monster, and her faith in him shattered. With Steve’s death, Natasha reevaluated her principles and decided to align herself with Bucky.

Bucky brought her on board because he recognized her skills and capabilities. He needed people like Natasha—sharp, resourceful, and fiercely dedicated. But he also understood the value of loyalty and did not intend to take it for granted. Their partnership was strategic, grounded in the shared goal of reshaping the political landscape, and Bucky was determined to build a team that could challenge the corruption that had long plagued their world.

“Have you got everything you need?” your voice pulled him away from his thoughts.

“Yes,” he replied, a smile breaking through his usual stoicism as he took your hand in his.

As you both walked through the grand halls of the White House, the sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow on the polished floors. Bucky’s grip on your hand was firm, steady, a reassuring anchor in the midst of the political storm surrounding him.

Bucky had his share of greed, but he loathed those who didn’t know their limits. Among those were his so-called friends, Edgar and Brock. Together with Steve, they formed a trio of self-serving opportunists, always proclaiming their actions were “for the people” while their true motivations were purely selfish—“for me, me, and me.”

What set Bucky apart from Steve, Edgar, and Brock was his ambition to dismantle the very system they thrived in. He wanted to rid politics of corrupt individuals like them, who masqueraded their greed as altruism. Bucky had seen too much of the damage they had inflicted on the community, and he was determined to be the catalyst for change. He refused to become like them.

To clean up the government, he knew he had to start with this corrupt trio. It was a slow and grueling process, requiring patience and strategy, but Bucky was committed to the fight. He would work behind the scenes, gathering evidence, building alliances, and slowly dismantling their influence. It was exhausting, but he was relentless.

His ultimate goal extended beyond simply removing them from power. He envisioned a government rebuilt on integrity, one that truly served the interests of the people rather than the egos of a few. The road ahead was fraught with challenges, but he was willing to face them head-on. Every step he took toward exposing the trio brought him closer to realizing his vision of a more just and equitable political landscape.

As Bucky navigated the murky waters of politics, he felt the weight of his mission pressing down on him. He was no longer just a pawn in the game; he was a player with a purpose. This time, he wouldn’t be silenced. He was determined to take the fight to them, fueled by a deep resolve to expose their hypocrisy and restore honor to a system long tainted by greed.

But alongside you, he realized something important: for an imperfect couple, you both made a perfect team. As you walked together, side by side, it felt like you were crossing a finish line, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Each step was a testament to your shared commitment—a bond forged in trust and understanding, built on the ashes of past mistakes.

You glanced up at him, and in that moment, you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that ignited whenever he believed in something. Together, you were more than just individuals; you were partners united in a common cause, ready to fight for a better future. In the complicated world of power and betrayal, your partnership was a beacon of hope, lighting the way toward justice and change.

-The End-

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who followed this series until the end. This story has its flaws, but I truly appreciate your support and dedication. It was incredibly difficult for me to wrap up this journey and say goodbye to Bucky and his fierce ex-wife. Writing a tale that intertwines politics with romance has been both a challenging and rewarding experience. I've learned so much about character development and the complexities of relationships, and I'm grateful to have shared this journey with all of you. Your feedback and encouragement have meant the world to me.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

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yohanseyebrowmole · 3 months ago

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Nepenthes

Link to Wattpad

(n.) Nepenthes is defined as a medicine for great sorrow. It is a place, person, or thing that can aid in forgetting one's pain and suffering. Aelora Targaryen was doomed. She was doomed from the moment she was born, for the mere fact that she was born a woman.

✧ Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!aunt!Targaryen

✧ Warnings: Abuse, Canon typical incest, Pregnancy, Childbirth, Misogyny, Mental Illness, Blood, Gore, Descriptions of miscarriages, Religious fanatics (the faith militant), Slightly OOC aegon (he isn't a complete ass), Death, Bodily and Eating disorders, Psychological Abuse, Imprisonment, Sexual assault, non-con/dub-con (not between main pairing), marital r@pe (she is literally 13 when she gets married), familial violence, Suicidal thoughts, Sexual content, etc.

Sexual content will be marked! Chaps with any potential triggers will be marked!

✧ Status: Incomplete

Character aesthetics

Aelora 'Ella' Targaryen

'I find myself lost in the precipice of my own mind.'

22. A motherless child. The Realm's joy. The people's princess. The broken. The young mother. The docile. The child bride. The pawn. The mad. The dreamer. The beloved sister of golden.

⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧

Jacaerys 'Jace' Velaryon

'Then allow me to guide you to safety.'

18. The eldest child. The heir. The black prince. The worthy. The dutiful. The faithful. The loyal. The devoted. The beloved son of delight.

⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧

Excerpts from History:

History recounts how the marriage between the young yet ever dutiful black prince and the late wife of the Lord of the iron lands was arranged by the princess's elder brother, Prince Aegon Targaryen. It is that that the prince had learnt of his mother's plans to have his sister wed off to another lord, and was firmly against the notion. He approached his elder sister and the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

The Lady regent of the Iron Lands was originally against the thought of remarriage at first, however, Prince Aegon was quick to persuade her to agree to the match stating that the black prince would be a better match than any other lord that their mother, Alicent Hightower, would place in front of her.

⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 1 year ago

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SKZ DRABBLE-BANG CHAN

A loose retelling of Hades and Persephone-modernized and darker than before, but beautiful all the same.

A/N: I'm not happy with this. But you guys can have it anyway.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, Bang Chan, Chan, Christopher, Christopher Bang, Y/N, Femreader, Chan as Hades, Y/N as Persephone, Underworld, Greek Mythology, Hades and Persephone, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Chan x you, Chan x reader, Chan x y/n, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Other members make guest appearances as various Greek gods, Greek Gods

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Warnings: Underworld Shit, Dark Undertones, Underhanded God and Mortal shit and dealings, Death, Dying, Triggering Themes, Toxic Relationships (not main characters), Chan's fucking in love with reader to the point of obsession.

Playlist:

🌸I’ll Be Damned-Gavn

🌸Seven Nation Army-Stevie Howie

🌸Call Me-ShineDown

🌸Granite-Sleep Token

🌸Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version)-Taylor Swift

Title: Every Last Seed

He goes by many names.

He always has.

Hades.

Ploutos.

King of the Underworld.

God of the Dead.

Bringer of Death.

Lord of Darkness.

But by far, his favorite name is the one that only you are allowed, dripping from your lips, soft and sweet, like honey, like a deadly nectar he's become addicted to-

Mine.

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"Where the fuck is he?" Chan storms through the door to his office, terrifying the wraith he employs as his secretary, her throat jumping with a gulp, as she straightens her glasses, and clasps her clipboard to her opaque chest.

"Ah, sir, I was just asking his Lordship if he'd prefer tea or coffee-"

"No need." Chan growls, not even bothering to look in her direction. "He won't be staying."

Hyunjin grins from his position behind Chan's overly large desk, his feet planted directly in the middle of some important treaties Chan had been working on the day before for some particularly pesky mortals.

"Ah, is that any way to treat your baby brother, Channie?"

His given name. The only ones who dare call him by that name are his brothers and you.

Everyone else just refers to him by the name the mortals gifted him when he became God of the Dead eons ago-Hades.

Chan stalks toward his brother's reclined form and promptly shoves his feet off the desk with a little bit more force than necessary.

"The perfect way, actually. Especially when said brother is impeaching on my very valuable and limited time, uninvited, I might add."

Hyunjin sniffs, straightening the highly expensive baby blue suit he wears, and plants his feet firmly on the ground, swiveling in Chan's chair to face him.

He tucks a strand of his golden hair back behind his ear and levels Chan with a self important look that makes him grind his teeth in agitation.

"Fine. You obviously want me to get straight to the point, so I will."

Chan feels a muscle tick in his jaw as he taps his foot impatiently, motioning with his hand for the man before him to continue.

"Great. What is it?"

Hyunjin sighs, making a show of straightening the crown on his brow, and then he gives Chan a grimace which he tries to soften with a halfhearted smile that Chan sees through immediately.

It makes his clench his fingers into fists at his side.

"How's the new little wife, hm, big brother? Satisfactory, I presume?"

Chan feels himself prickle at the mention of you, but he keeps his expression unreadable, dark, as he stares back at his clearly prodding brother.

"Fine. Anything else? Or did you travel all the way here and risk your wife's wrath just to ask me how my honeymoon was?"

Hyunjin blanches at the mention of Hera, and clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable now in the face of Chan's obvious ire.

"Yes, well-" He stands up, planting his hands flat on Chan's desk and leaning toward him, as if to appear intimidating.

Chan wants to laugh at the pathetic display.

"-there's been a problem. I'm sure you've noticed the influx of extra souls ever since you uh, tied the knot, without her mother's permission?"

He fidgets nervously under Chan's unwavering, blank stare.

Tugging at the collar of his expensive suit once more, Chan watches as his younger brother, the supposed God of the Gods, seems to wilt under his penetrating gaze.

Finally, he sighs heavily, and seems to implore Chan to give him something, anything, he can work with.

"Her mother's fucking pissed with you, Channie, all right? I'll just come out and say it. I need you to fix this."

Chan remains unmoving, stoic, in the face of his brother's obvious plea.

After another moment of silence, Hyunjin throws his hands outward and exclaims with obvious exasperation, "C'mon, help me out here. Lord knows I've helped you in the past when you asked."

Chan arches a brow. "Helped me?"

His voice is flat, cold, deadly, and Hyunjin winces subtly.

"Okay, listen-" He holds up his hands, as if the weak gesture of peace will stop Chan's building fury. "-you know the delicate balance we have between the mortals. We worked decades for that, and if Demeter keeps fucking offing them left and right, just to spite and overwork you, and the Underworld, we're gonna have a much bigger fucking problem on our hands than a petty little feud between you and your recently acquired mother in law."

Chan hates to admit it, but Hyunjin's right, as much as it pains him to agree.

Fucking Demeter and the chip on her shoulder toward him.

God forbid, her perfect, innocent, naive daughter-the goddess of Spring-fall in love with someone as twisted and dark and wicked as Chan-god of the dead and ruler of the Underworld.

No, the Goddess of Harvest was not bound to let this go lightly, and it seemed he needed to put a stop to this before it ever really began.

A few extra mortal souls on his workload was nothing really, but if she even thought about dissuading you-

Chan pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut. He can feel a headache building.

"Fine." He grits out, and he can practically hear Hyunjin breathe a sigh of relief. "I'll handle it."

Ignoring his brother and his babbled platitudes of thanks, he steps toward the window and looks down over the city below, flickering to life beneath the coming darkness.

"But know this-" He turns and levels Hyunjin with a dangerous, black gaze. "-if I even hear a whisper of you and Demeter's little foolish escapades putting my wife in danger, I will end you both without a second thought and with one snap of my fingers."

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He still remembered the first time he ever laid eyes on you. How could he forget?

Attending one of his younger brothers garish and old fashioned parties-he'd thought they'd stopped doing these kinds of things centuries ago-he'd been dragged over to rub shoulders with some of the greats, one stiff tuxedo away from going the fuck home where he belonged.

And then, he'd seen you, hidden in Demeter's shadow- though nothing could truly hide your exquisite and rare beauty, not even your mother's sour, pinched expression-and his feet had moved toward you without permission, as if drawn by an invisible thread of fate.

Your mother had looked at him as he approached with such disdain it would've set him on fire had he not been a god, but he'd ignored her, striding boldly forward through the party goers until he stood directly in front of you.

"Hades." Demeter had hissed in greeting, dark hatred flashing in her eyes as she'd put a protective arm out in front of you.

You stared up at him with the biggest, most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, and extended one slender, soft hand out toward him, breaching the threshold of your mother's protection without a second thought, as if you could feel the tug of the persistent string too.

"Persephone." You had whispered, than blushed, your cheeks going red, as his fingers found yours. "Or Kore. O-or (Y/N). Whatever is to your liking, your highness."

Your hand was like velvet-warm and silky in his own-and his fingers dwarfed yours, making them feel delicate and almost fragile in his grip.

"I know who you are, Goddess of Spring." He had replied, with far more confidence in his low tone than his quivering gut felt in the moment.

Your expression had flashed surprise at his words, and you glanced away under his direct gaze, red, full lips parted, cheeks taking on an even deeper hue of scarlet.

The look of sudden shy demureness on your features intoxicated him, and his dick immediately took notice.

"I am honored that one such as yourself, your highness, has taken notice of me already."

He had cleared his throat, subtly adjusting himself in his too expensive slacks-some high end shit Hyunjin had insisted he wear-at the soft tone of pleasure your voice took on at his attention, and finally, reluctantly released your hand, even as Demeter ushered you back behind her looming form.

"We really must be going." Her expression went from pinched to furious as his eyes lingered on you just a bit longer than necessary. She ushered you away. "Say goodbye, Kore."

"Goodbye." You had murmured, eyes flitting up to his briefly, before you let your mother lead you away and out of his sight.

Chan took his leave shortly after, giving Hyunjin some bullshit excuse of the Underworld not running itself, and had hightailed it home, his skin itching beneath the ridiculous suit he wore, and his hard-on aching for a release.

That night, he came with his cock in hand, and your name on his lips.

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He arrives home to find you in the garden, kneeling in the dirt, fingers dug deep into the soil.

It's a common occurrence, a sight he's grown used to, but he still pauses, watching you silently for a few moments, enjoying the way your hair falls around your face, the way the curves of your body are accentuated against the early evening light.

Cerberus notices him first, raising his giant, blocky head from his paws where he lays beside you next to the garden plot, ears erect. His thick tail thumps the ground-once, twice-at the sight of Chan and you glance up, following the dog's gaze.

Chan steps from the shadows, and the most gorgeous smile he's ever seen graces your features as soon as you catch sight of him.

It takes his breath away, and as you stand, brushing the dirt from the dress you wear, he thinks, not for the first time, that you're the most fucking beautiful thing he's ever had the pleasure of calling his own.

"Channie." You breathe sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck as he draws closer, burying your face in the juncture of his throat. "You're home."

"I am." He agrees, wrapping you tightly in his embrace, taking a moment to let his nose skim your hair, the smell of blossoms and springtime filling his senses.

You pull back, just enough to gaze up at him, and he lets his finger go beneath your chin, holding you there, so he can study and memorize, once again, every single intoxicating line of your features.

Your lips quirk into the start of a smile, as if you know what he's doing, but you don't say anything.

He's grateful for that.

"Did you have a good day?" You ask softly, your breath warm on his fingers, as he traces the part of your full, soft lips.

"Eh." He lifts one shoulder into a shrug and lets it fall back down heavily. "Not as good a day as I would've had staying here with you, little blossom."

You arch a brow, and he sees it, the stubborn expression wash across your face that lets him know you know he's trying to deflect.

You put your hands on your hips and stare him down, and he resists the urge to lean forward and kiss the tip of your nose.

Fuck, you're adorable.

"I heard Zeus came to see you."

"Is that so?" He questions, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he watches you hold your ground.

He leans forward, fingering one of the loose strands of hair that frames your face, before he lets his gaze dip to your throat, the golden chain you always wear dipping tantalizingly out of his line of sight where it disappears between the swell of your breasts.

"You're correct." He acquiesces, his fingers itching now to reach up and tug the chain free, so he can dangle the wedding ring he knows lies safely between your breasts between the two of you, just so he can remind himself who you belong to once more.

His dick swells at the thought.

He clears his throat, and brings his gaze reluctantly up to meet yours once more, noting the dark flash of stubbornness that washes across your eyes.

"However." He smirks now, stepping closer, letting his hand gently close around your throat, your pulse thready beneath his palm, like a fluttering bird beating against the bars of a cage. "I don't really want to talk about my brother right now, do you?"

He leans forward, and begins to suck kisses along the column of your throat, and you giggle, batting him away and stepping back before he can distract you further.

"Channie." You whine, putting your hands once again on the swell of your hips, and he thinks, not for the first time, that your delicious curves are going to be the death of him one day. "I'm serious."

He sighs, and tries to ignore the hardness of his eager dick between his thighs, knowing you're not going to let him off the hook-or let him fuck you dumb-until he's told you what Hyunjin wanted.

"Fine." He sighs again, and drops onto one of the many benches he had had installed in the garden solely for the purpose of watching you do what you love most.

You step toward him, and he opens his legs so you can slide between them, putting your hands on his shoulders as his fingers find your hips through the thin material of your dress.

"Tell me." You insist, staring down at him and Chan tilts his head back to look at you, arching a brow at your commanding tone.

"Goddess of Spring, are you really telling the Lord of the Underworld what to do?"

An amused smirk flickers across his lips at the look of exasperation that crosses your features.

You stick your tongue out at him, and he chuckles, tugging you to him. You protest a little, but let him do it anyway, burying his face into your stomach, the soft feel of your dress caressing his skin.

He breathes in your perfume, once, twice, and then leans back, meeting your gaze.

"Your mother is throwing a little temper tantrum it seems."

Your eyes widen minutely, and Chan sees your lips flatten into a determined, serious line.

"Because of our marriage?"

Chan gives a slight nod. "It would seem so."

One of your hands clenches into a tight, white knuckled fist at your side, and your chest stutters with a sharp intake of breath.

Beyond your shoulder, a vine springs to life, fraught with large thorns, curling around a nearby tree, up and up, tight enough to strangle the bark beneath its hold.

Cerberus raises his head, scenting the sudden unease in the air, and lets out a small whine.

You take in a deep breath, and the vine begins to slowly retract its hold on the tree.

"Little blossom." Chan murmurs, tugging you down onto his lap, and encircling you in the safety of his arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "It's nothing to worry about, I promise you. I'll handle it."

He feels you shake your head beneath his chin.

"You shouldn't have to handle it. She's my mother. I need to stand up to her."

Chan glances beyond you as Cerberus whines again, and sees the vine's thorns growing dangerously long with your distress, piercing through the trunk of the tree, cracking the bark into splinters.

"Pet." Chan warns quietly, nudging your chin in the direction of the destruction. "Take a deep breath."

You gasp, and let the air out on a long, shuddering breath, and the vine halts its upward progress almost instantly as you collapse against Chan, slumping into his chest.

He can hear the tears in your voice when you whisper, "I'm sorry."

His finger finds your chin again, and he raises your watery gaze to his own.

"Never, and I mean never, apologize for the power you hold, my love. For it will bring gods and mortals alike to their knees, and one day, when they all pass beyond this life, you will be known as their queen."

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"You know, it's usually easier to get into the palace through the front door."

The unfamiliar, male voice startled you and you lost your hold on the branch you were currently coaxing toward the palace wall, snatching it up again with a curse just in time to stop yourself from tumbling all the way back to the ground below.

"Fuck." You glared over your shoulder, down to the newcomer, but could only make out a tall, dark silhouette, cloaked in a hood.

The man tilted his head, as if he was looking up at you, and you swore you could feel his smirk even through the darkness.

"Yes, thank you for the advice." You snapped back with a huff, already reaching out for the next branch as your magic grew it down toward your outstretched fingers. "But I think I'll stick with this."

"Suit yourself, little blossom." The mystery man leaned against the thick trunk of the tree, and crossed his arms over his chest, staring out at gods knows what.

You paused, catching your breath, and glared down at him, even though you're sure he can't see you.

"Don't call me that."

You saw his chest rise and fall in a silent laugh. "Why?"

"Because." You huffed, reaching for another branch, out of breath as you work around the gods awful gown your mother had insisted you wear to visit Olympus. "I don't know you."

"Oh, but I think you do."

You paused to consider his words, racking your brain for anyone you knew in Olympus well enough to give you a nickname, and came up with no one. Your mother didn't let you visit often from the mortal realm.

"I don't." You insisted, standing up on your tiptoes to try and reach the top ledge of the wall.

You heard the man chuckle again as you stretched-up, up, up-and just as your fingers had grazed the cool marble, your foot slipped off its hold on the branch below, and you tumbled, shrieking, back down through the tree and toward the hard ground.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came.

Cracking open one eye, you stared straight into the face of the mystery man, safe in the warm, strong curve of his arms.

His hood had fallen back in the act of catching you, and your eyes widened as you recognized the handsome face before you.

Fucking. Hades.

Brother of Zeus.

God of the Dead.

He grinned at you, and arched a brow, reiterating softly, "But you do."

Your heart did one sharp staccato against your ribcage, as he set you carefully to your feet, and stepped back, and almost instantly, you missed the warmth of his skin against your own.

"Thank you for saving me." You stuttered out, curtsying deeply, now that you had your wits about you.

He chuckled, staring at you as you straightened back up, and you hoped it was dark enough to hide the blush staining your cheeks.

"Oh, I have no worries that if I wasn't here, little blossom, you would have saved yourself."

He motioned upward with a jut of his chin, and you followed his gaze to the tree, gasping as you saw a thick, dark green vine wrapped around its bulbous trunk, stretching down from the palace wall and to the ground below, curling around your feet.

When you glanced back to the man before you, he was already pulling his hood back up over his face, ready to disappear back into the blackness.

"Wait!" You called out before you could think better of it, and he stopped, cocking his head.

You swallowed hard, and took a step toward him.

"Will I see you again, your highness?"

You swore he smiled beneath the hood.

"Call it what you will, Goddess of Spring-fate, destiny, the will of the gods-but I think you and I will be seeing each other again very soon. Very soon indeed."

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"You can't have her, you know."

Changbin took another long sip of his drink, cheeks already rosy, and followed Chan's hungry gaze across the room to you, standing close by your mother's side.

He simply shrugged when Chan turned to shoot him a glare.

"Her mother would never allow it. She hates your fucking guts. Not to mention-" He leaned over and lowered his voice, as if he was telling Chan a secret. He could smell the liqueur on the younger god's breath. "-the whole 'Underworld Ruling' thing."

Chan is saved from having to respond by the appearance of Minho, flute of champagne in hand, look of annoyed disgust on his face, as he slid past the hulking god beside Chan and took a seat on the duvet across from them.

His brother glanced dismissively at Chanbin, leaning back to take another long swallow of his drink.

"Nephew."

Changbin grinned and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Uncle."

Minho arched a brow and his nose wrinkled slightly in open distaste. "Do you ever not wear armor?"

Changbin grinned bigger, and slapped a loud palm to the armor fitted perfectly to his broad chest.

"Of course not! I'm the God of War. Always have to be ready for anything, Uncle. You know how it is."

"I'm sure I don't." Minho sniffed, raising his champagne delicately to his lips, and taking a tiny sip. "The Ocean does not concern itself with the dealings of mortals. Let alone their trivial pursuits of war."

Changbin merely shrugged, and stood, slapping a powerful hand to Chan's shoulder, which sent him jolting forward in his seat, rubbing his offended arm and glaring up once more at the towering figure of his nephew.

"I'm off to find another drink. And maybe a few maidens." Changbin announced, giving Minho a mock salute, as the man stared him down with annoyed disdain. "Take care, uncles."

And with that, he was gone.

Minho's gaze flitted to Chan, and he took another long, slow sip of his drink.

Chan felt his eyes unwittingly pulled back to the other side of the room, but you had disappeared from view, probably dragged off by your mother for more introductions.

"I'm surprised you came."

Chan let his gaze drift back to his brother across from him, and offered him a tilt of his head in acknowledgement, reaching for his own glass of forgotten champagne.

"Yes, well, that makes both of us. I'd hoped to not find myself at another one of these damned archaic, presumptuous affairs for another eon or so."

The corner of Minho's lip flickered with amusement, and his eyes roamed past Chan to the dozens of gods and demi gods currently mingling on the expanse of Hyunjin's vast dance floor.

"Our baby brother is good for very few things, and throwing amusing soirees is indeed not one of them."

Chan felt his own lips quirk into the hint of a smirk, and he raised his glass to Minho in silent salute.

Minho tilts his own champagne in response, and they both take a deep draft of the shimmering, bubbly liquid.

His brothers were hard to tolerate on the best of days, but he'd always felt like Minho understood him just a little bit more than Hyunjin ever had.

Standing, Chan places down the now empty glass and nods to Minho in farewell.

"I've made an appearance. Now it's time to take my leave."

Minho watched him in silence for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, and then with a flick of his fingers, he filled Chan's empty glass back up with water.

Chan stared at him, and he arched a brow.

"Drink some water before you go, brother. It'll help with the hangover tomorrow."

He sighed, reaching for the glass, and downed the water in one gulp.

"There. Happy?"

Minho's mouth flickered again. "Almost." He cocked his head, and let his gaze roam over Chan's body, as if he could see the way his muscles tensed, the way his mind swirled, already thinking about running into you on his way out.

When Chan went to move past him, Minho put an arm out, stopping him in his tracks.

"Careful, brother." Minho murmured, eyes dark and discerning, trapping him in place. "Interest is a fickle, fleeting thing, but obsession is fatal."

There was a beat of tense, deafening silence, Minho staring at him like he could see right through him.

Chan shook his head, and broke the spell.

"Thanks for the advice." Chan grunted, pushing past him without another glance, stalking toward the exit, not caring as he shouldered past the partygoers, earning himself a round of nasty looks.

The cold night air of Olympus embraced him as he pushed through the double doors and into the opulent garden beyond.

Unlike the swirling colors and lights and noise of the party inside, the garden was deserted at this time of night-dark and quiet and abandoned-just how he liked it.

Taking in a deep breath, holding it as the frigid air seared his lungs, Chan strode deeper into the garden, walking between the towering, shadowy rows of hedges, clearing his head.

The music had almost faded out of ear shot, when he heard it-a small, unfamiliar sound that immediately caught his attention.

He paused, freezing, and listening.

There it was again, just around the next bend, somewhere near the center of the hedge maze, beside the fountain he knew graced the large stone courtyard lined with benches hidden amongst the neatly trimmed foliage.

Taking another quiet step so he could round the corner, he heard it once more.

It almost sounded like-a gasp?

Chan came around the hedge quietly, on full alert, his footsteps silent, and as the fountain came into view, he caught sight of a figure leaning back on one of its edges on the other side, obscured through the haze of the water.

Another creeping step forward, still hidden by the shadows of the bushes, and the person came into view.

It was you-sitting on the marble edge of the fountain, dress hiked up around your knees, leaning forward as you focused on something intently.

Chan narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was you were doing, and when he realized, as another little breathy moan left your lips and your wrist spasmed, he halted, feet suddenly leaden.

Gods above, you were touching yourself.

He should move, he should announce his presence, he should leave, he shouldn't be watching you in this very private, very vulnerable moment, but he can't seem to get himself to break the spell, watching you silently from the shadows of the hedge as you pleasure yourself.

You let out that sound again-a breathless sort of stifled release of breath-and Chan felt his dick start to swell in response, straining against the fine fabric of the slacks he wore.

You let your head fall back, eyes screwed closed, lips parted, as your fingers continue their work, and Chan's eyes are drawn to the way your chest heaves for breath, the perfect swell of your breasts straining against the corset you wear.

Suddenly, he can move again.

Stepping quietly from the shadows, he approached, moving to stand in front of you, and as if you could sense his sudden presence, his eyes on you, your eyelids fluttered open, your mouth forming a perfect 'o' of surprise as you caught sight of him.

"Y-your highness-" You stuttered out, cheeks immediately blooming pink, and Chan was enthralled by the way the rosy color spread rapidly down your chest.

You made a move to remove your fingers, tugging at your billowing skirts, but Chan held up a hand, his eyes meeting your own.

"No. Don't stop."

You froze, staring at him, wide eyed, like a fawn caught in the daylight, and he made an attempt to soften the gravel of his voice, repeating again, softer this time, "Keep going. Please."

You stared at him for another long moment, and he couldn't breathe, maybe you were going to run, maybe you were going to tell on him, what a pervert he'd been, maybe you were disgusted-

And then, slowly, eyes still holding his own, you let your fingers dip back beneath the folds of your gown.

He could tell the moment you made contact again, because your body stiffened, and that sound-the one that went right to his cock-passed your parted lips once more.

Chan watched you, mesmerized, as you let your fingers do the work, arching your body on the edge of the fountain to find the right angles, all the while, holding his gaze unwaveringly.

You were brave, he'd give you that.

You gasped, mouth falling open, and he saw the way your wrist twisted, picking up pace.

He imagined how wet you were, how easily your fingers slid in and out, and he clenched his hands at his side to keep himself in place, to force himself to let you be.

"What do you think about?" He asked suddenly, licking his lips, his mouth desperately dry.

"What-" You started to question, the words breaking off into a breathy moan that had him painfully hard, even harder than before.

He took a step closer.

"What do you think about? When you're getting yourself off?"

Your eyes had screwed closed as you grew closer to release, but you managed to flutter them back open to meet his gaze, your face twisted into the start pleasure, your fingers never stopping.

"You!" You gasped out desperately, chest heaving, free hand digging into the marble ledge of the fountain, fingers white with the effort of holding back.

Chan watched as you came then, crying out and body vibrating, and when the orgasm had finished ripping through you, you slumped back, breathing hard and cheeks flushed.

Pulling your hand from your skirts, Chan tried not to focus on the way your fingers glistened as you wiped them off on your dress.

He was rooted to the spot, watching you come down, cock aching and leaking down his leg, wishing he was the one who'd undone you so fully, when you finally met his gaze once more.

Your expression was unsure, lips pressed into a thin line, when you repeated softly, defeatedly, "You. I think about you."

You sat up, straightening your skirts with your clean hand, and Chan resisted moving closer to you with what very little willpower he had left.

You were biting your lip, staring at the ground between the two of you, when he conjured a trace of shadow, using it to caress your chin and tilt your gaze back up to meet his.

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, your skin pebbling into goosebumps beneath the touch of the shadow, but you didn't move, you didn't look afraid.

Chan felt the corner of his mouth lift into the hint of a smile as he let the shadow trace your cheekbone, brushing back a loose strand of damp hair into your elegant braid.

"You know, little blossom, my brothers say you're a problem."

Your eyes widened a little more, and then a flash of indignation crossed your pretty features.

"Why?"

Chan cocked his head, studying you, and you stared right back.

"Because I want you, but I can't have you. And I tend to have a fatal flaw of getting obsessive over things that are kept from my grasp."

He flicked away the shadow with his fingers, burying his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he let the words settle between you.

His dick was still unyieldingly hard.

Your lips parted slightly, as if surprised by his admission, and then a brief, mischievous smile flashed across your lips, catching him off guard.

You tilted your head, and your lips quirked upward into a bigger, sweeter smile.

"Your highness?"

"Yes?"

You hopped down from the ledge of the fountain, and found your shoes, slipping your feet into them as he watched, waiting for you to continue.

When you stepped toward him, closing the distance, he resisted every urge to grab you and slot his mouth hungrily over yours.

You looked up at him curiously, studying his features, your eyes large and dark, framed by the longest eyelashes he had ever seen.

When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, as if you were telling him a secret only known to the two of you.

"What do you think about when you come?"

He stared at you, trying to put the words with the movement of your lips.

Finally, he swallowed, watching your eyes flit down to follow the movement of his throat.

"You."

"Hm." You hummed beneath your breath, lips twitching, as you finally slipped past him, headed back in the direction of the party.

Chan whirled, watching you go, and as if you could feel his eyes on you, you turned and paused when you reached the hedges, fingers trailing over the dark, emerald leaves, leaving shining pink flowers behind in their wake.

"Interesting." You arched a brow, giving him a half, knowing smile. "And here I was, thinking my little obsession was one sided."

Chan let a shadow slink from the hedge beside you and trail around one of your ankles.

You grinned at him once more, and slipped silently from view.

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Chan steps off the elevator and is immediately met with the largest bouquet of flowers he's ever seen, shoved directly into his face.

He swats them away with annoyance, and the person carrying the atrocity comes into view, panting like they've just carted weighted rocks up the floors of the building and not obnoxiously perfumed flowers.

"Oh, hey boss." Jeongin beams, adjusting the vase of flowers in his arms, so that he can reach up and push the cap he wears back slightly, revealing a sweaty swath of dark hair.

"I got you flowers!" He holds up the arrangement, as if Chan can't see them, and follows him when he stalks past him toward his private office.

Setting the bouquet down on the front desk as they pass, flashing Chan's assistant a winning smile, Jeongin hurries to keep up with Chan's long strides, floating slightly above the floor.

"Well, Persephone did, technically, but you know, she asked me to give them to you so-"

Chan ignores the chattering messenger god beside him, and turns a left down the hall, already silently going over the meetings he has scheduled for today in his head.

Turning another corner, he's just about to push into conference room two, when Jeongin slides in front of him, spreading his arms out to block his way and trying to catch his breath.

"Whoa, boss. You can't go in there."

Chan stares the kid down, expression stoic.

"Jeongin. Get out of my way."

Jeongin doesn't budge, though Chan can see a flicker of fear flash across his dark gaze as he stands in front of Chan's looming, annoyed figure.

He reaches up, scratching at the back of his neck in clear discomfort, and shuffles from one winged foot to another.

"Okay, but here's the thing-" He starts, hemming and hawing, glancing past Chan and to the hallway, then back to the god standing in front of him.

"Jeongin." Chan warns, beginning to think there's something going on that he doesn't know about, and nothing pisses him off more than to be oblivious.

Jeongin clears his throat and gives him a half hearted smile. "Persephone kinda asked me to keep you out of the conference room today because she's kindameetingwithhermomtodiscussthingswithoutyou."

Chan stares blankly at the boy in front of him, wringing his hat now between anxious hands, and then asks quietly, dangerously, "She what?"

Jeongin swallows, the gulp is audible in the tense silence, but still holds his position blocking Chan from the doorway.

It's admirable, he'll give him that.

He gives a little shrug and a sheepish smile. "Sorry, boss?"

Chan growls beneath his breath in frustration, and pinches his nose.

He can feel a headache coming on.

"Fine." He grinds out, the muscles in his jaw popping with his irritation as he clenches his teeth and glances past Jeongin to the waiting conference room. "But you're to come and get me as soon as they're finished." He points a stern finger into the middle of Jeongin's chest. "And Demeter is not, I repeat not, allowed to be alone at any time while she's in the Underworld, understood?"

Jeongin nods and gives him a little salute, even as Chan is already stalking away.

"Yes, sir!" He calls out down the hallway, voice echoing off the walls and exacerbating Chan's growing headache. "I won't let you down, boss! You can count on me!"

Chan mumbles something beneath his breath about hiring new wingmen, and locks himself in his office.

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Chan doesn't get to see you for the rest of the day.

The hours slip by, and he's faced with problem after problem-mortal souls unhappy with their judgement, wraiths he employs needing his every attention and signature, accountants wanting to see him about the toll to cross the Styx ('inflation is happening you know!')-and by the time he finally gets home, well after sunset, his every muscle is tight with irritation.

He walks in to see you in the kitchen, apron tied tightly around your waist, Cerberus at your feet, dozing with his head on his huge paws.

The dog gives a thump of his tail when Chan appears, alerting you to his presence, and you glance up from whatever it is you're chopping, giving him a wide, bright smile.

He's not fooled. It doesn't reach your eyes.

Pushing aside the monstrous bouquet from earlier that now resides in the middle of the giant, granite island that takes up a majority of the kitchen, he raps his knuckles on the stone, watching you carefully, his head cocked.

"I heard your mother stopped by today."

He watches the way your chopping stalls, but you don't look up at him, chest inflating with a silent breath before you turn, tossing the carrots into the large stew pot on the stove.

"Yes." You finally say, back still to him.

He tries to force the irritation simmering just below the surface down, relaxing his whitened fingers one by one, as he blows out a long, slow breath.

"(Y/N)."

You turn then, at the use of your given name said in his stern tone, and resume cutting, chopping blocks of beef into smaller cubes.

Chan blows out another breath, harsher this time, and rubs at his temple.

The headache from before is still lingering, pounding now that he's finally left the office for the day.

"What did you talk about?"

You flick your eyes briefly up to his, and then back to the meat beneath your knife.

"Her 'temper tantrum' as I believe you put it."

Chan winces slightly. That wording probably didn't go over very well.

"And?" He prods, leaning against the counter, leaning down so he can glance into your face.

You bite your lip, and he sees you blow out a breath, before you look up at him and force that smile back onto your face-the fake, overly saccharine one from before, the one he doesn't buy for a moment.

"Do we really need to talk about this right now? You just got home, and dinner is almost ready-"

Chan flattens his hands, palms down, on the cold granite, and doesn't let you look away.

"Yes."

Your fingers tighten around the knife, and he sees you let out a shuddering breath.

At your feet, Cerberus cocks his head, your obvious display of uncertainty grabbing his attention.

"Channie-" You start to say, and he watches the way your throat bobs with a swallow.

Anger swirls into embers in the pit of his stomach.

He leans forward, dark eyes flashing. "What did she fucking do? If she so much as made you feel bad for any of this, I won't hesitate to pay her a little visit in the mortal realm-"

"No, no." You wave your hands, finally meeting his gaze once more, your bottom lip wobbly and your eyes shiny. "It's nothing like that."

Chan feels his heart immediately sink.

A tear drips down the length of your cheekbone, and he resists the urge to lean across the counter and swipe it away.

You rub at your eyes with your hands, and breath in an unsteady inhale.

Cerberus stands, butting his blocky head into your hand, until you let out a slight, watery chuckle, and begin to pet his dark ears.

"She-" You start to say, then stop, and Chan stares at you, frozen in sudden fear.

The flowers sitting in their vase on the counter begin to wilt and turn brown and brittle, dropping leaves to the granite like snow fall.

Chan ignores them.

You take in another breath, and pick the knife back up, moving to chop again.

"She wants to make a deal. She wants me to spend Spring in the mortal realm, with her, so I can fulfill my duties every year. And then I'll stay here, with you, the rest of the time."

You look up at him, your expression vulnerable, unsure. There's hurt in your eyes.

Chan's thoughts stop. His body goes cold. There's a buzzing in his ears, and he doesn't know if the shadows are lengthening, or if his sudden loss of control is causing everything to creep in.

He turns, and without a word, flicks a shadow out to send the vase of now withered flowers crashing to the ground.

You yelp, jumping at the noise, and Chan stands, back to you, staring at the mess he's made, chest heaving, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

The mess he always makes.

After a beat of silence, he hears you put down the knife, and then your soft footsteps, as you pad around the counter and kneel on the ground next to the shattered vase.

Slowly, without looking at him, you reach out and begin to pick up the broken pieces.

Chan breathes in, breathes out. His headache is pounding.

"Little blossom, leave it-"

He starts to say, moving to crouch before you, just as you pick up another piece of sharp ceramic and wince, instantly dropping the piece back down with a clatter, as you pull your hand back against your chest.

Chan reaches out and tugs your hand back into view, watching as the cut on your palm starts to slowly leak golden, shining ichor down the line of your wrist, dripping on the floor between the two of you.

His breath stalls as he glances up to your pained expression, all the anger leaving his body in an instant.

"You're bleeding."

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"You're bleeding."

Chan glanced up at the sound of your voice behind him, meeting your concerned gaze in the mirror, where he remained, leaning over the basin, palms on the cool ledge of the sink, watching the water swirl away down the drain.

"Yeah, well-" He gave a little humorless chuckle as he watched the water shimmer with the ichor he washed from his knuckles, before he straightened and dried his hands, glancing once more at you in the reflection of the mirror. His mouth quirked up into the hint of a smirk, and he winced as it pulled at the split skin of his lip, tasting fresh ichor on his tongue. "-luckily for me, my brother hits like a pussy when he's been drinking."

Your eyes widened. "He hit you?"

Chan turned, swiping a hand across his mouth now, tossing the towel to the side. "Yeah, well, I probably deserved it."

He'd no more than finished the admission than you're at his side, taking his hand in yours, your eyes raking across the golden liquid that marked his knuckles, tacky and congealing.

You glanced up at him, curiosity flashing across your pretty features.

"What did you do?" You questioned in a whisper, as if asking him to divulge a dark secret.

Chan almost grinned-you're too fucking adorable-but he leaned in, his forehead brushing yours, expression serious, and lowered his voice to match yours.

"I told him, little blossom, that there's no way in fucking Tartarus that I'm going to another one of his stupid, historic parties, unless of course, it's thrown for us and planned in celebration of our marriage."

You stared up at him for a silent moment, and Chan almost backtracked, wondering if he'd been too bold, when a slight smile curved your lips up mischievously.

"Well." You released his hand and straightened the collar of the suit he wore, before stepping back, eyeing him up and down, head cocked with interest.

The look on your face took his breath away.

"Then I guess you'd better get me a ring, hadn't you?"

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Chan slips your ring carefully from your finger, lying it beside the sink, before he tends to the wound on your palm.

You protest the whole time, claiming it's fine and you're fine and he's being dramatic, but Chan's heart won't stop pounding in his chest until every last drop of your golden blood is wiped clean from your skin.

When he's satisfied with himself, he helps you get down from your position atop the bathroom counter, and pushes you gently toward the waiting shower.

"I'll just be a minute." He says, as you roll your eyes, but strip your clothes anyway, waiting before he hears the water turn on, before he darts back to the kitchen.

He cleans up the mess he made in his anger, and goes back to the bathroom.

He watches you for a moment, through the steamy, hazed glass surrounding the large shower, your perfect outline stretched back beneath the pounding water, and then gets rid of his own clothes, tossing his suit to the side, before he slips into the shower to join you.

You glance at him over your shoulder as he enters, wet hair plastered to your skin, lips pulled into a worried pout.

"Channie-" You start to say, but he steps to you and pulls you flush against his bare chest before you can get any of the other words out.

Your arms go around his waist, fingers tickling the skin of his back, and he lets out a long, slow breath, the exhale rustling your hair, your face buried in the planes of his chest.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes softly, and you pull back to look up at him, eyes wide and soft.

"You don't need to apologize." You say, reaching up to shove some of his thick, dark hair back off his forehead, starting to grow heavy with water.

"I do." He nods, staring down at you, letting his finger go beneath your chin, as he traces the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.

You're so fucking beautiful.

"You're my wife, yes, but you're also a Goddess, and I need to remember that."

You stare up at him silently, letting him continue, and he lets out another breath, reaching his hand up to cup the side of your face, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

"You have your own duties and responsibilities, and I'm being selfish keeping you here. I can't hide you away forever."

The corner of your mouth wrinkles, as if you're thinking about smiling.

"Are you sure?" You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.

"As much as I would like to-" He starts, leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, moving up along your cheekbone. "-I can't. The mortals-and Demeter-need you."

You sigh, he feels it in the way your chest brushes his, and lay your head on his chest, listening for a moment, to his heartbeat.

He strokes your damp hair, and finally you say quietly, "All right. But I don't have to like it, right?" You pull back, looking up at him with a tremble in your bottom lip.

"No, you don't, little blossom." He gives you a half smile, bending his head to press a kiss to your throat, than to the swell of the start of your breast. His cock twitches at the feel of your soft skin beneath his tongue. "I'm sure as fuck not going to like it."

You give a little laugh, slightly watery, and reach up to swipe the tears from your eyes.

"What will you do?" You ask with a shaky breath, staring up at him in a way that makes Chan's heart squeeze, his insides feel tight with all the love he has for you. "While I'm gone?"

He gives a slight shrug, leaning against the shower wall, as you move to start shampooing your hair into a lather.

"Run the Underworld. Judge the mortals. The usual stuff. I mean, what did I do before I had you?"

"Brood." You reply back instantly, glancing at him cheekily over your shoulder as you turn to rinse your hair.

He leaps forward and pins you to the wall as you shriek, tickling your sides as you wriggle to get away from him, laughing so hard it makes you breathless.

He pulls back, letting you breathe, and you push some wet hair from your face, taking in a couple of calming breaths, before your eyes meet his once more.

The mirth disappears from your pretty features, and Chan feels his chest tighten.

"Seriously though, Channie, I-" You swallow, Chan watches your throat bob, and your eyes grow shiny again. "-I don't know how I lived all those eons without you. And now, to have to leave-"

"Hey, hey." He steps toward you once more, caging you in the protection of his arms beneath the warm spray of water. You bury your face in his chest. "Pet. Look at me."

Finally, you do, raising watery eyes to his, and he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

"Listen to me, little blossom." He reaches up, stroking your hair behind your ear. "We're talking about months here. Just a few months topside, to soothe your mother, and then you'll be back home with me before you know it."

You sniff, swiping at your nose, and then nod.

"You're right. I know you are."

Chan gives you a half smile, gentle and soft, and leans down to press a kiss to the part of your lips.

The thought of you leaving his side is ripping him apart, but he manages to keep his expression neutral, if only for you.

He presses another, longer kiss against the column of your throat, and takes a moment to breathe you in.

"I love you. I always have, even before I knew you, even before I saw you, and nothing, and no one, will ever change that. You are, and always will be, my obsession, Goddess of Spring."

You look up at him with tear filled eyes, and lean up to press a kiss to his own lips.

"I love you too, God of the Dead. You're the only thing in my entire, immortal days that has ever managed to bring my heart to life, and I thank you for it."

A genuine smile tugs at Chan's lips now.

"Ironic, coming from the Goddess of Rebirth about the Ruler of Souls."

You give a little laugh, eyes sparkling as you look up at him. "I guess so."

Chan tugs you to him and, determined to memorize how you feel, kisses you long and hard beneath the cooling water of the shower.

Inside his chest, his heart flicks out a shadow to meet the flowering vine snaking from your own.

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"Do you think we're all fated to another?"

You ask, lying beside Chan on the grass, the cool night breeze kissing patterns across your bare skin.

He turns his head to look at you, staring up at the stars overhead, fingers twined within his own.

The ring on your finger brushes his knuckle, and a warm sensation washes over him at the thought that you're his now-for eternity.

"Isn't that mortal shit?" He asks teasingly, and you turn to give him a glare, but it only succeeds in making him more endeared, your nose crinkling up and your lips pursing.

"Well, yes, but-" You shrug, turning back to the sky, reaching up your free hand to splay your fingers against the backdrop of the shimmering stars. "-do you?"

Chan considers.

He's never put much stock in fate, or destiny, or anything else the mortals believe in, and he says as much, rolling over to look at you, his hand skimming your bare hip.

"I don't know. But what I do know is this." He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you, where you lie, watching him, from the grass.

He lets his finger trail over the marks of his teeth blooming on your shoulder, the love bites already turning purple up the column of your throat, soothed by his tongue.

"Fate is fickle, I don't like to rely on it. Fuck, sometimes, I don't even think I can rely on myself, but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you and I, little blossom? We were meant to be. And nobody, not fate or any of that other shit that mortals believe in, made that happen. We did."

He watches you as you pause, considering, and then you give him a smile that steals his breath, sitting up beside him to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

"Fuck fate." You breathe against his lips, and right now, in this moment, with your skin pressed against his, your warmth settled firmly in his lap, his ring on your finger, Chan thinks he has to agree.

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Chan trips over one of Cerberus' toys and gives the big dog a glare, tucked safely away under the kitchen table, his head on his paws.

"I swear to god, your mom is coming home today, and if she sees the state you left this house in-" He threatens vaguely, waving the toy around, before tossing it into the basket in the corner.

"I'll what?"

Chan whirls so fast at the sound of your amused voice that he almost gives himself whiplash, turning to face you in the doorway, a grin on your lips and your suitcase in your hand.

You give him a little wave, suddenly shy, as he continues to stare at you, rooted to the spot.

"Hi?"

He's moving then, crashing into you and sweeping you up into his arms with such force that you lose your breath, dropping your suitcase to the floor, as he pulls you in tight to his chest.

You're laughing and crying, and Chan breathes you in, nose pressed to the top of your head, like he's a starving man seeing food for the first time.

You pull back, just enough to smooth your palms over the side of his face, your eyes still shiny with unshed tears.

"I missed you, Channie."

"Fuck." He breathes out, crushing you back to him again, never letting you go. "I missed you too, little blossom."

You laugh again, a watery sound, and press kisses to every inch of his face you can reach from his embrace.

Chan feels like he can finally breathe properly for the first time in months.

"What did you think about while I was gone?" You ask, your eyes sparkling, as if you already know the answer.

He lets out the breath he's been holding, and leans forward to kiss you breathless.

"You." He breathes back in response, and your lips part with pleasure at his answer. "Always you."

And then he kisses you long enough to make up for all the time missed-past and present.

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