#the sheet mention of affection has him weak

[starsetven]

Hi hi!

I've just found this blog not long ago due to a fanart and I just LOVE everything!!

As much as I looked into things so far I absolutely admire Vic and Link and Avery is adorable!! Link got my attention the most, I'm both very interested in him as a character and well damn, I may be 5'4 at best but I just wanna cover kis face in kisses and hold him, he's triggered my cuteness aggression somehow so he shall pay the price!!(All of the art of him(and the others too) is so so so gorgeous!!!)🩷🩷🩷

He would find a way to fulfill your desires

Mostly due to the fact that he’d want you to kiss him

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 LOVERS ROCK

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: there are very few things that leave dazai osamu at a loss for answers. you are one of them. more specifically, it's your relationship (is this a relationship?) with him that has him so disconcerted, and dazai is getting to his breaking point.

(wordcount: 3.6k; nsfw [kind of, very suggestive so will label nsfw], ada!reader, dazai has SEVERE trust issues & paranoia, this is set like half a year after he joined the ada, dazai also has a bad relationship with sex that is mentioned in his narration, he is terrible at communication too, accidentally hurts reader a little [nothing major])

AUTHOR'S NOTES: hiiiiiii guys <.< so i'm actually really proud of this ehehe. this is a universe that i'm tempted to expand on like wykyk, but we'll see.

Dazai hates giving up control. 

Ever since he was a kid, he’s been hyper-independent. First with his family, because they were never around and he had to learn to be self-sufficient otherwise he’d die a slow, painful death. Then in the Port Mafia, he quickly learned that asking for help is a weakness and being dependent on others is a vulnerability that people would take advantage of to subvert his influence and usurp his position as an underboss. As long as he’s remembered, it was all but a death sentence to rely on any other than himself. 

It wasn't until he became a member of the Agency that he finally began to allow himself to depend on others—banking on Ranpo and his mind, Kunikida and his ideals, Yosano and her tenacity. But even then, he never allowed himself to lose complete control over a situation, drawing things out in a way that would always leave him with a firm hand guiding the chess board. 

Until he met you, at least.

He wasn’t sure what made you so different—he still isn’t entirely sure, it’s a thought that frequently plagues him, and because of it, he can never allow himself to be fully comfortable with you. You joined the Agency a month after him with lips that spoke pretty words and gave him even prettier smiles. You’d been kind to everyone, but Dazai likes to think you were especially kind to him. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Dazai liked the idea of it.

Well, he didn’t at first. 

In fact, he was rather hostile to it. To you. The longing he felt for the casual, soft touches you laid upon the other members of the Agency felt more like a weakness than anything else. It scared him. He’d never desired anything of the sort before, he’d always been okay on his own—thrived in it, really—and now he was suddenly seeking you out at all hours of the day, and he didn’t even fully understand why. Every time he sought you out, it ended poorly with him saying something uncalled for and your expression twisting as you tried to hide your hurt. 

And yet he still continued to seek you out. He made the same mistake over and over again: constantly forcing himself into your space after getting jealous watching you doll out casual affection to the other detectives, waiting for you to give him the same attention, and then lashing out in some manner when you finally did.

He supposed it didn’t help that Dazai was uncomfortable in general with people touching him, which naturally made him even more hostile because why was he longing for something that made him uncomfortable? 

He also still isn’t sure how you managed to break through all of his walls—or why you even persisted when it became clear that he was at best incompetent when it comes to dealing with real emotions, and at worst, borderline malicious. 

But you did. And it scared him. Scares him.

Dazai lets out a shaky breath when he feels your lips ghost against his neck, fingers twisting the sheets below him. Your hands are sliding against his sides, gentle and soothing, and a part of him wants to melt into the sheets while another part of him wants to flip the two of you around, press you back down into the mattress and rip control over the situation back from you.

As if you can sense his conflict—maybe you can, Dazai has come to realize that unlike everyone else at the Agency, who he can fool with his mask of exaggerated dramatics and clownlike behavior, that you had somehow learned how to see right through him—you pause for the sparest moment and trace your lips back up his neck to brush them against his own, soft and comforting, as if to soothe his discord.

And it works somehow. Dazai doesn’t know how you do it because he can’t even quell his own mind when it starts to spin out of control, but the brush of your lips against his is enough to ground him again. 

“Everything okay?” you ask quietly, eyes searching his face for the answers that he knew his lips might not give.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, voice rough and cracking over the word. 

He thinks maybe a part of it is the way you always check on him to make sure he’s doing alright. For Dazai, sex has only ever been transactional—he was young when he was first carted off to a whorehouse so he could be taught how to use his body for intel and other miscellaneous advantages. No matter how hard he tried to enjoy it, he always found it to be underwhelming at best and loathsome at worst. And he did try to enjoy it, he forced himself to seek out women in his free time to try to learn to enjoy the activity that so many other people seem to find comfort and pleasure in. 

It wasn’t until you that he could.

His first time with you was earth shattering. He’s not exaggerating when he says it completely altered his perspective on intimacy. It was embarrassing, almost—he remembers giving you quick, flirty smiles, and he remembers the sly comments he whispered to you at the bar the members of the Agency were at to celebrate Yosano’s birthday. 

He knew that morning that he wanted you in his bed by nightfall—partly because he thought it would get you out of his system, that maybe all he needed was a good fuck to stop acting like he was brainless whenever you were around, and partly because he was curious. He was curious to know if that genuine demeanor of yours continued behind closed doors, or if it was all just a mask you liked to put up in public. 

Dazai’s hands were on you before the two of you even left for the night—they were creeping up your inner thigh, lingering on your bicep, he was resting his chin on your shoulder as he stood behind you, warding off any man that might try to approach you with cold looks you couldn’t catch. Eventually, like he planned, you asked him if he wanted to go back to your apartment, and Dazai agreed, of course, eager to get his questions answered. Eager to free himself of whatever shackles you’ve put on him.

And it all went downhill from there.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask again, frown deepening and hands stilling on his waist when you don’t find an answer you like on his face.

Dazai tries to play it off—you’re here for sex, not all of his unstable thoughts. He gives you a practiced smile and slips his hand under your shirt to rest on your lower back, pulling you firmer against him—an easy tactic, one of the first he learned to distract his partner when he slips up.

He should have known better than to think you would fall for it.

Instead of returning to the lingering line of kisses you were leaving on his neck, you sit back to study him, and Dazai feels seen. He shifts under your scrutinizing gaze, averting his eyes to the ceiling and counting the seconds that pass as he waits for you to ask that dreaded question. 

“What's wrong?” you ask him quietly.

Dazai can evade it. He knows that he can—even if the sex is ruined, because he knows you’re not going to have sex with him if you think something is wrong, he can evade this question by refusing to answer. You never press it, although sometimes your lips curve down in a disappointed frown that makes him feel even worse than before.

But Dazai finds himself hesitating.

“I-“ he starts to say before cutting himself off abruptly, horrified by the realization that he was just about to admit to you what he was thinking. “Nothing.” 

The anticipation that had sprung to your eyes when he started to speak dissipates when he blows you off, and it makes his chest tighten. He feels your thighs tense and knows you’re about to get off of him, so his hands fly to your hips to keep you in place.

“Something,” he corrects, voice just a little too raspy for comfort. “… Something.”

You settle back down on top of him, tilting your head to the side. 

“Tell me?” you offer quietly, your hands drop to his arms, sliding up and down the bandages that cover his forearms slowly. Soothingly. He hates it.

“I just don’t understand this,” Dazai admits. “It’s… confusing.”

It's possibly the first time he’s ever spoken these words out loud. It’s a weakness he’s never allowed anyone to be aware of—even when Dazai has no idea what’s going on, he’s careful to put up an impenetrable facade of confidence, one that even the keenest eyes can’t see through.

And here he is, bare of masks and facades, admitting his weakness plainly to someone who could easily take advantage of it.

Oh.

“This as in…?” you prompt with a pondering frown.

Is that it?

“This,” he repeats more insistently as his mind races. “Us.”

You, he accuses silently.

You have the ability to destroy him. Dazai realizes, disconcerted, that this is what is confusing him. He's allowed himself to be weak in front of you. He's lowered all of his guards. He's let you in through his many walls of defenses. You’ve settled down in the treacherous beating thing in his chest that he’s tried to rip out too many times to count, and Dazai waits for you to take advantage of it. He waits for this to go wrong. Waits for you to prove yourself to be a Trojan Horse in the form of dazzling smiles and a beautiful face. 

But you don’t, and that’s what Dazai just can’t understand. He doesn’t understand what you’re getting out of this—he knows what he’s getting out of it. He’s getting comfort, he’s able to pretend he’s capable of being loved, he gets you. But you’re not getting anything out of this, so he feels like he’s just been biding time before the other shoe drops.

“… What about us do you not understand?” You sound perplexed, and it agitates Dazai. Worse, you can tell it agitates him because immediately you run your thumb over the pulse point on his wrist to soothe him. You add quickly with a small smile, “I'm not understanding now, help me?”

It is beyond disconcerting that even though he knows it was a ploy to distract and soothe him, it works anyway. Dazai needs to do something about this.

“What do you get out of this?” Dazai decides to ask the question plainly instead of dancing around his words, partially because of the agitation and partially because he just needs an answer. Desperately. “What do you get out of what’s going on between us? I don't understand why you keep agreeing to meet me, why you initiate it sometimes. I need to know what it is you get."

Sex is transactional—it always is. Each party has to get something out of it, and if you don't know what the other is getting, then you have made a perilous mistake somewhere along the line. Dazai has known this since the beginning, but he allowed himself too long to bask blindly in the comfort of your arms and bed. He can’t keep doing this without knowing what you’re getting, It’ll come back to haunt him.

You’re still confused by his question even with the explanation, he can see it in the way the thoughts race behind your eyes as you try to piece it together. 

Eventually you settle on a smile that’s almost playful as you answer with, “You?”

Dazai’s frown deepens at your words, his expression becomes a bit colder. He thinks you’re evading the question because you don’t want to answer it, and that’s dangerous. You joined the Armed Detective Agency not long after him—were you a plant sent to get close to him by one of his old enemies? By Mori? His thoughts start to spiral dangerously. These are questions he should’ve been having months ago when you first joined the Agency, not now. 

“What are you really getting?” His grip on your hips tightens. “Tell me. Stop avoiding the question.”

Your expression becomes a bit more alarmed when he closes off from you, he thinks maybe his grip on your hips might be painful from your wince but he can’t afford to let go until he has his answer. 

“You, Dazai,” you say again, more insistently this time. “I get you. I get to spend time with you. be with you. That’s what I get.”

“But why?” Dazai presses, raising his voice, holding you tighter. He is hurting you now, he can tell from the way you try to bat his hands away, but he couldn’t let go if he wanted to. His blood pressure is rising as he realizes how badly he might have messed up. All of Ango’s efforts—Odasaku’s last request—all down the drain because of one mistake. “Why? What information are you trying to get? Who sent you? Who are you work-“

“What?” you demand. The confusion in your eyes is almost believable—Dazai thinks you must’ve been sent by someone important if you’re this good of an actress. His thoughts track back to Mori and his mind starts to fog with fury. “Who sent me? What are you-Dazai-I want you because I care about you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

The fog clears, Dazai stares at you blankly, hands loosening on your hips. He's not sure he heard you correctly, so he says: “What did you just say?”

Your expression softens a bit, and you repeat, “I care about you. I want you because I care about you.”

“No, you don’t,” Dazai says immediately. Instinctually.

“Yes, I do.” Dazai has never seen you get irritated before, but your face twists when he instantly denies your words. “I do, Dazai.”

“You don’t,” he insists. “You can’t. You don’t even know me, you don't care about me.”

He thinks he almost would have preferred that you had some ulterior motive to this. He hates the way his chest swells with hope—hope is dangerous, more dangerous than any other emotion. Fear, anger, sadness, none of it compares to the light that tries to bloom within his rotted chest. He tries to cut it off before it can spread, but it’s notoriously hard to snuff out; it clings to anything it can get a hold on even as he tries to push it away. 

The idea is… more tempting than he expected. It’s concerning, that should be enough to clear his head, but it’s not. His fingers cling to your shirt desperately, he searches your face, trying to find the sparest indication that you may be lying.

He finds none.

Still, Dazai knows better. He knows this won’t last. you’ll find out who he was, all of the things he did, and then you’ll leave him. You’ll see him for what he is, and you’ll leave him. This will never last. 

Nothing good ever does for him. 

“But I do care about you,” you insist, and you’re cruel now, because you reach out to cup his cheek and Dazai leans into your touch. He can’t help himself from it. “I care about you deeply, Dazai.”

“You can’t,” he repeats, and to his horror, his voice wavers. “You don’t know who I am, you don’t know what I’ve done, and when you do-“

“We all have skeletons in our closet, Dazai,” you interrupt him quietly. “I don't think there’s a single ability user out there that doesn’t. I don't need to know your past to know I care about you.”

That’s not true, he wants to say, but can’t force the words out. Instead, he says hoarsely, “It would change how you see me. I'm not who you think I am. I’m-”

A monster. A demon. His blood is black—has been since the day he was born, will be until the day he dies. He is not someone who should be cared for. He's someone who should be left to rot, someone the world would be better off without. He doesn’t deserve this, not when there are so many other people in the world who are unfailingly good and do deserve it. 

“It won’t,” you say again, but Dazai knows it’s not true, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know how awful he is. You don’t give him the chance to protest though. “I care about who you are today. I care about who you are tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. Not who you were months ago. The past is the past, Dazai, leave it there.”

“It's not that simple,” he rasps. 

“It can be,” you say softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “if you let it.”

“It can’t be that simple,” he disagrees. There’s an odd lilt to the voice—pleading, almost, begging you not to give him hope only to rip it away when the truth inevitably comes to light. “It can’t.”

“It can for us,” you tell him again, and Dazai finds himself believing you. Wanting to believe you. Wanting to believe things can just be that simple. That easy. 

“Why?” Dazai breathes out, eyes searching your face for answers. “Why me? Why not someone…”

Someone better. Someone good. Someone deserving. 

“Because you’re you,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, you lean down to ghost your lips against his and it fogs his brain with a pleasant warmth he’s only ever felt with you. “Do I need a reason more than that?”

Dazai wants to say yes, because him being him is a reason for you to not want him. He’s despicable, he’s cruel, he lashed out at you for weeks all the while forcing himself into your space because he wanted to be near you but didn’t understand why. 

“I love your smile,” you say, thumb running along his bottom lip, “and I love even more when I’m the reason for it.”

“But-“

“And I love your eyes,” you continue, fingers trailing up his face to trace under his eyes. “I think they’re the prettiest shade of brown I’ve ever seen.”

“I know that’s not true,” he rasps—he knows very well that his eyes are unnerving, too black and too empty. People have been unable to look him in the eye for long even when he was a kid. “I-“

“But most of all, it’s just you,” you say softly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. “You make me happy. I like being around you. I always look forward to the time we get to spend together—missions, at work, after work. I’ll take you in whatever way I can get, Dazai.”

You don’t let him avert his gaze this time, you force him to look at you, force him to see the truth of your words reflected in the adoration on your face. No one has ever looked at him like this before, and it makes him feel bare. Seen. He’s always felt seen with you, but never like this.

“I was… mean to you.” He still tries to argue with you, lashes fluttering shut. “I was cruel for months because-“

You laugh at him. “Mean? You were like a puppy trying to snap at my hand to scare me off.”

Dazai gapes. “A puppy?” he demands, seriously offended. “Don’t compare me to a dog. I’m more like a… A…”

“A…?” you press, a pretty smile flickering at your lips.

“A panther,” he supplies confidently.

“A kitten,” you correct.

Dazai groans dramatically, flinging his head back, but he finds himself smiling. He finds his chest full of warmth, light and bubbly, and when he looks back up at you to meet your eyes, he finds the same emotion swimming on your face. He thinks again that no one has ever looked at him like this before—not with such fondness, not with adoration, not with…

No, Dazai doesn’t dare think that word.

“I care about you too,” he admits. He’s hesitant, like he’s scared to say the words out loud.

“Even with all of the skeletons hidden in my closet?” you tease, leaning down to brush your lips against his again, and then a second time, and then a third. He basks in it, eyes sliding shut as you kiss him gently—it takes a few moments for your words to register.

“They’re not worse than mine,” he replies, the pads of his fingers running up and down your thighs absently. After a couple of seconds pass, he asks, “… What skeletons do you have?”

You tilt your head to the side and say playfully, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Dazai isn’t ready for that, so he just tosses you a smile and a wink before murmuring, “How about you show me something else instead?”

You laugh at that, tossing your head back and giggling so genuinely that your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sound. His lips part to make another suggestive comment, but he finds himself breathless at the sight of you. 

You’re beautiful, and Dazai can’t help but think again that he doesn’t deserve this. You.

“Deal,” you agree.

This time when you lean down to press your lips against his, Dazai’s hands are content to rest on your thighs. His fingers don’t itch to wrangle control from you, and his mind isn’t plagued with paranoia-induced thoughts.

He thinks, maybe, that he can get used to this. Used to you.

[asiatic-apple]

Fluff prompt 1 with Sylus and female reader

Thanks for the request, nonnie! Hope you enjoy this one

Requests are open for my follower celebration

First kiss in the rain

Sylus x female reader

Prompt: getting caught in the rain together

Content: one mention of the pet name “kitten”, a little bit suggestive, making out in the rain

The sky had looked innocent enough when you left the cafe with Sylus. It was cloudy, sure, but not too threatening. It wasn’t until the two of you were halfway down the street that the first drop fell. Then another. And another.

Now you’re sprinting side by side, completely soaked, laughing as you duck under the overhang of a closed flower shop. Rain comes down in heavy sheets, drenching the pavement and painting the world in watercolor grays and glimmering reflections.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you mutter, breathless from the run and the ridiculousness of it all.

Sylus pushes back wet strands of silver hair, looking unfairly handsome when he’s soaked to the bone. “I told you we could have taken the car,” he teases, water dripping from the sharp edge of his jaw.

You elbow him lightly, feeling slightly embarrassed that you were the one who stubbornly pushed to walk back to your apartment. It’s more romantic to walk, you had said, sticking your chin out in that cute pout Sylus loves so much. Now you’re eating your words and drowning in the torrential rain.

But you’ve always been too stubborn for your own good. Some might call it a flaw, but Sylus likes that you stick to your guns—you’re his feisty kitten for a reason.

“I was right, though,” you exclaim over the patter of the rain. “This is way more romantic than a boring car ride.”

You playfully flick a droplet from his collarbone, subconsciously licking your lips when you watch it scatter into smaller rivulets that glide beneath the lapel of his dress shirt. Yeah, Sylus looks even better when his clothes are damp and sticking to him like a second skin.

You shiver without realizing it, and Sylus shifts closer, ready to take care of you. “Cold?” he asks with a raised brow. It’s unclear whether he’s smiling out of affection or because he knows exactly what made you shudder like that.

“A little,” you lie, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your own clothes also cling a bit uncomfortably to your skin. But your face is too warm—probably from how he’s looking at you.

“You should’ve let me bring my jacket,” he teases.

You scoff. “And have you suffer instead? No way.”

He hums thoughtfully, then steps in front of you, his hands reaching out to gently tug your arms from your sides. He wraps them around his waist, pulling you flush against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“There,” he murmurs. “Now you can steal my body heat.”

You tilt your head back to look up at him. “This is very convenient for you, huh?”

“Extremely.” His smirk is handsome as always, but the look in his eyes is different now. It’s calmer, softer. Like the rain has washed everything else away but this moment between the two of you.

A drop of water slides down your cheek, and he brushes it away with his thumb. His hand lingers, warm against your skin despite the chill in the air.

You swallow, heart pounding. “We’re very wet.”

“I noticed,” he murmurs, his voice lower now. His thumb brushes the corner of your mouth before returning to your cheek too quickly for your liking. “Should I pull away?”

“Not if you’re about to kiss me,” you whisper, already rocking forward on your toes to lean in.

The kiss is gentle at first, sweet and careful, as if he’s savoring the moment. But when your fingers curl into the front of his shirt, damp fabric bunching in your hands, Sylus deepens it with a quiet groan that makes your knees go weak.

His hands cradle your face, keeping you anchored as the rain hammers the pavement around you. For a second, you forget everything else. You forget the cold. You forget the puddles. You forget that anyone could walk by and see you both soaking wet, making out under a flower shop awning like something out of a movie.

You pull back just slightly, enough to catch your breath and whisper, “This is a little cliché, don’t you think?”

Sylus leans his forehead against yours, his soft panting the only sign that your kiss affected him just as much as it did you. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, sweetie.”

“It’s not,” you admit with a smile. “I like it.”

“Good,” he whispers, pecking you on the forehead. “Because I’ve been wanting to kiss you in the rain for a while now.”

You have half a mind to laugh, assuming he’s just being a tease as always. But the look on his face is sincere. You don’t have a witty response this time. All you want to do is kiss him again, until he’s breathless and dragging you back home to peel off these clothes that stick to your body.

The rain shows no signs of stopping, but for once, you don’t mind. Not when you’ve got Sylus pressed against you, his warmth soaking in deeper than the cold ever could. Not when your lips find his again, slower this time, like there’s no rush. Like this is exactly where you’re both meant to be.

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🐉 tag list: @voidsylus

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[babeyun]

falling alone ✩ l.hs [teaser]

✩ series m.list

✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s.

✩ genre: established relationship au | hurt-comfort

✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader

✩ word count: 2k | [full fic: tbd]

✩ rating: 18+. minors dni.

✩ warnings: mentions of disappearances. some slightly suggestive themes between husband!hee & wife!reader (nothing explicit), uhhh that's it for now i think!

friday, 9:23pm.

"late night?"

your voice has always been a comfort to him.

the way you cooked dinner every night, the way you washed his hair for him, the way you laid in bed with him – it was all comforting. your soft eyes, eyes that had never seen an inch of a crime scene. your gentle hands, hands that would never cock a gun and aim to kill.

you were home to him, and he hated that he couldn't leave his work at the precinct. he always brought it with him, anywhere he went...anywhere you were.

"not really. caught a session with dr. bahng. i'm sorry about dinner." he loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. he takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wanted to sully it with such grime. "how was your night?"

your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. he fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, because he can't let go of work. he has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.

"it was...fine." you wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. only then does heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. his eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "are you going out with your friends?"

you don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. he sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "why are you upset, honey?" "i'm not, i'm not upset." you scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. you knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. his lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "i know you better than that."

you're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. he's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.

the same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. it's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. it wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. it wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.

he felt awful, really. that he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him...how his sessions with dr. bahng were no longer of much help. "leave work at work, lieutenant. you have the love of your life waiting for you at home." he had it memorized at this point.

"it's always the same thing, don't worry about it." you turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. you weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. you just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. "baby."

you wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. one you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. you grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "don't baby me, heeseung."

"don't heeseung me, y/n. i know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – i'm not letting you go to bed like this." he looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. just talk to me.

you shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "let me go, heeseung."

"not until you tell me what's going on." his voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "i've been at work all day, dealing with shit i can barely stomach. i just want to come home and spend time with you. what's wrong?" he's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your heart ache and your eyes sting with tears.

"i just want to spend time with you, without having to beg for it." you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "you remember everything, hee. i know you had to remember that tonight is date night." sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.

"i'm sorry, honey. it really did slip my mind. let me...let me take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" he starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "it's fine, heeseung. let's just go to bed." "no, let me fix this. we haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." he slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. he was right, and you hated that you knew he was. heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?

yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. the two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, cha soyoung.

heeseung was even more cold and stoic then, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. he didn't really speak, which according to hs friends, was unnatural. they wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to park sunghoon. the seven of them also ended up working at the same precinct.

"heeseung talks...a lot. not as much as jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." sunghoon had said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "it's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?" you had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. you had met sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except heeseung. he'd gone home with soyoung for the summer, returning to seoul for the fall semester at decelis university with her and your other friends. you still never spoke, until now.

you and sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.

"hey, hoon. y/n." heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. sure, you'd only ever seen picures of heeseung but you knew enough to know that this...wasn't him. neither you nor sunghoon spoke as heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.

"how are you feeling?" sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. you stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. "i don't feel much, actually."

sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. you rounded the table to heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. he'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back ot you, awkwardly entering your embrace. your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder.

"m'sorry." he mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head.

sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. something about the way that heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way that he sobbed into your shoulder made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. someone to help him hop along until soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.

that was six years ago.

you and heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of soyoung's disappearance. the police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. you and heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen soyoung.

heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and often reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. he never had – you had all hit a dead end. everyone's hope began to dwindle, but heeseung never let that sway him. he even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. you'd pinned those up, too.

he was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. you love heeseung, you love the person he is...

...but you hate that he can't leave his work at work. you hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. you hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you.

the man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. the man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you. rubbing your feet while watching law and order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)

heeseung loves you, you know that. you just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

taglist [those in red could not be tagged!]: @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @thenastone @marimariiiiiiii

[thesweetestapplepie]

‘a cigarette after sex’

wc: 1.8k

tags: fluff, mutual pining. Friends w benefits Arthur PT2. Mentions of sex.

author note: technically an addition to ‘a quiet night’ cause i’m starting to rlly like this friends w benefits Arthur wanting more. will work on requests soon :)

Rich alcohol bubbles laughter from the gang sitting below Arthur’s windowsill, a roaring fire tying together the sound of soft guitar and disorganized melodies. Despite the amusement everyone had danced in, Arthur Morgan had no intention of joining any of them that night on the fun.

What a gorgeous view. Arthur’s mind reels in blanks when he takes a moment to look at you. Back turned to him, he let his eyes drop and rise over you. With a body still slick on the afterglow of sex and sweat, you draped yourself bare over the edge of his springy cot with elbows dug into the linen sheet. The fire dances in your eyes. Peering from where you laid, you gazed down from the window of his Shady Belle room where the two of you laid in the nest of warmth and weakness. Arthur understands that it is weakness that shreds him of his pride and volition everytime you find your way back into his bed. With your body naked, pale moonlight sends a cascading waterfall of silver down the plains of your back. The slight dewy moisture that collects on your skin only sends him reminders of your passionate haze of affection just a few minutes ago. He hopes you’ll stay like this just a moment longer. He lets his mind stray to the vivid recollection of you folded in half beneath him, dirty words and pleads that he pulled from your breath with every rough chase of his hips and heat of his mouth.

Yet, even with the pretty sight of you blissed out, high on the euphoric edge that Arthur seems to teeter you on, he doesn’t think anything can compare to your beauty after the fact. Though, he’ll never admit that to you, not until you tell him it’s what you wanted to hear. With a chest that ached of longing, he revels in the way you soaked in the cold, frosted air of the night as if you had belonged among the banisters of stars. He breathes you in a long moment, a little too long for him to call it friendly. If he were to be more honest to himself, he’d acknowledge full well that there was nothing friendly about the two of you.

He gets an idea. A stupid one, one that’ll surely leave him a foolish man. Even then, he understands that this is a view that he would burn into the skin of his bones if he could. Extending his arm, he reaches for the brown leatherback journal that sits by the side of the bed. His broad shoulders creak like old mahogany wood, the naked planes of his chest chiseled like a greek god. When his pencil lightly taps among the smooth cover, you turn around and he’s met with those punishing, darling eyes of yours that burns his composure to nothing but ash. Arthur knew he was in deep, yet it still makes him ache when you catch him in such a moment of endearment. Your eyes land on his journal and pencil, corners of your mouth twitching into that cherry flavored smile.

“Gotcha’.” Your words fall husky on his ears and he can’t help but scoff shamelessly at his own mistake, even indulging in the way you shifted your bare body back to face him.

“You got me.” He gruffly responds, lifting his hand that rested on his journal up in the air as if signalling his defeat. Quick woman. He hopes you’re too slow to notice his ears burn in slight embarrassment.

This has become quite the pattern for the both of you. Ever since you had both been aware of Arthur’s slight favoring of you and vice versa. Moments of weakness began to bleed into your camping trips, you two began to sneak away every time the moment was right to satiate each other’s needs–A hotel or into the sweet confines of his canvas tent. Only–the need for you didn’t seem to disappear even after healing his soul to the sweet music of your whines and moans. No, he finds himself hungering for the perfect moments after the fact. Moments such as this one.

“Were you just gonna sit there in silence the whole time?” The words play off of your tongue lightly, head tilted ever so slightly to get a better look at him in the flickering candle light. The lines around his mouth are pulled together into a feigned scowl, crows' feet scrunching up along with the bridge of his nose when he begins to quip at you.

“Nah. Just wondering what you’ve been eyeing down there for so long. Practically burned a hole into the damn windowsill.” His expression rests on its stoic pout that seems to never leave his face, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of amusement. Yet, you could tell he was already quite infatuated. You glance back to the distant chatter of the campfire alone and Arthur can see the thoughts steam from your head by the way your eyes flicker. Shifting comfortably, you melt back into the dark sheets of the bed and he tries to not let his eyes linger on you for any longer than dignifying. He believes that the deep seated fondness he holds for you will eventually fade and dwindle if he chooses to not indulge in it. Yet his contradicting mind and body betrays his pride constantly; and as he gets a better look at you in the candlelight, soft embers illuminating your radiating, halo glow with wildflower petals still colorfully strewn about in your hair. You still smelled of sweet citrus and fruit, all he can do is selfishly long.

“Just thinkin.’” You point to his side of the bed to the box of half empty cigarettes and he doesn’t hesitate to supply you with your bitter relief. You notice how despite the creased line of his forehead and the rough, pinched furrow of his brow that his candid crystalline eyes were nothing short of tender.

“Enlighten me.” He pulls his own cigarette from the box before handing it to you, but you simply pluck the cigarette that he stuck between his fingers and slot it into your own mouth. That earns you that toothy smile, a grin pulls his cheeks into creases and he looks down to preserve any of his composure.

You find the lighter that was sitting on your floor of the bed along with your cream laced clothing and golden brass shoes, ever so carelessly and impatiently discarded in your passionate affair. You can’t help but feel the piercing diamond eyes of your lover scale your back as you lean over the creaking cot. As if the tension in his stare was coated in whiskey and fire, you feel your face burn hot like coal. You pull yourself back up. Giving into the thick and dry pull on his throat, he shamelessly watches the bruises and bites that blossomed along your chest and stomach fade back into view when you have finally retrieved the lighter. Another grin threatens to curve his lips. “Tilly and Beth probably wondering where I am about now..” You fumble with the silver lighter for a second when Arthur’s hand instinctively reaches out to help you, only for you to catch the wispy flame in its last moment, chest puffing in pride. “I won’t hear the end of it from those two like this..” That melodic laugh is pulled in strings from your lips when you gaze down at yourself. Deep violets and red seem to blossom along your flesh like petals, hurting ever so pleasurable.

“You’ll be in your dress, you'll be fine.” The image licks flames at Arthur’s mind and he can’t help but let embarrassment run heat through his body in a hot flash. He had gotten carried away this time. Pulling smoke through your soft cherry lips, you hum softly at his comment, handing the cigarette back to him. He sits up, looking down at your naked figure and he feels his throat tighten. “You can go and join them if you want, y’know.” He rasps, quiet as if his tail was tucked between his legs. Quiet as if he didn’t want you to. He hopes the smoke will get rid of the buzzing in his brain, an electric shock shooting through his body as soon as he tastes the bitter paper on his lip.

You roll over on your side to face him, body still melted so comfortably into the sheets as if you were meant to lay beside him for the rest of your life. And a part of him hopes that is the case. “Do you want me to?”

“To what?” He muses for a second.

“To leave.” You say just as quickly, taking the cigarette from his scarred, hair laced knuckles and fingers.

“Hell no, I don’t want you to leave.” He hopes his answer came out confident, smooth unlike the way the apple of his throat bobbed nervously. He hoped it charmed you, because it earned a soft giggle from your lips. It was those moments of soft giggling, whether it was between sweet, heady kisses or laughter just talking back and forth that made him realize that this relationship the two of you held was far past being friendly.

“No?” You reach for the cigarette, hand deliberately brushing against his hand for another brief, electric moment.

“No..” His voice had gotten a little quieter. “Like I said, you’re fine company.” He watches the smoke fill your lungs, the last remnants of your lipstick smearing onto the cigarette when you had wetly kissed it.

You smile through the smoke and he's quick to notice the red that crawls up your face just as thick and sunny. You let the smoke billow from your body, face turned ever so slightly to the side as to not punish him in your intoxicating air. “I’ll stay then.” He forces his smile down at your answer, trading the rough callous in his hand for a cigarette from yours.

He gets a final look at your body, letting the image burn into his mind as he finally spills back into the cot, eyes finding the ceiling of his room. You both watch the smoke spill from his lips, filling the air above you in a haze of unspoken affection. There was no need for a trade of words right now, anyways. Though he will be sorely disappointed to not have gotten that sketch of you, thick graphite lines shadowing the plush of your hips and the thin flicks of his pencil highlighting the glow of your back—he believes this was just as good. Hell. It was even better.

[hoshigray]

HOSHII MY LOVE this is gonna be my first ever request to you 😕 i usually refrain bc i get shy but im so touch deprived rn i NEED YOU TO (only if u want to no pressure pookie) MAKE A LIL MAKEOUT DRABBLE with literally any character plsplspls its carnal atp i love u

-🍓

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the way i wanted to make this a multi-post, but i've been thinkng this exact scenario w/ toji for the past week, it needs to get out of my head!! i appreciate you entrusting you're first req w/ me awwww ;w;

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab/fem! reader - suggestive content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - dry humping/grinding - thigh riding - fluff yet...suggestive - grinding - thigh riding - fingering (f! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - Toji and you being touch starved - implied reader is toji's partner who looks after Tsumiki and Megumi (yes, I'm feeling soft, shut up) - mention of spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

After swaddling Megumi to sleep, you slowly put him in his cradle. The year-old baby snores silently as he leaves your arms’ warmth and lies in the comforting chill of the sheets. You then move silently to tuck in Tsumiki, the toddler sleeping in her tiny bed. You kiss her forehead gently, making her smile unconsciously. After saying a hushed goodnight, you close the door.

The plan was to stay until the kids fell asleep, stopping by your boyfriend's place for a night since it's been a little while since you last saw each other. Work’s been keeping you away for a minute, and stopping by at his apartment was needed to happen before you crash out from stress. And seeing the little ones’ faces was the cherry on top, their wholesome beaming faces instantly fueling your social battery. 

After silently walking out of the hall, you enter the living room, where your boyfriend stands by the chair with your bag. You smile pleasantly, teetering your way to him. And he, Toji, smirks at you, straightening a bit when you’re close enough. “Gotta go,” you say with a whisper. “Better catch some sleep before heading back to the office tomorrow. Megumi should be out till morning, so you should sleep easy tonight.”

“Thank Christ,” he makes you giggle, hushed not to wake the children.

The silence pushes you to look at him, your heart skipping at his forest green orbs already latched onto your frame. You cough faintly before grabbing for your purse. “Need anything before I go?”

A hand grabs your wrist to pull, and Toji impersonates thinking to himself while his hands snake to your waist to draw you closer. You roll your eyes – knowing what game he’s playing – but the smile on your face doesn’t falter. He then says, “Mmm, only one thing comes to mind.”

“And what would that be?” You quirk a brow, but your expression changes once he brings his face inches closer.

“I’m still waiting’ fr’ my kiss.” His gruff tone is dialed down, but his words affect a warmth to coarse through your chest.

It’s hard to say no when Toji’s nose brushes yours, lips hovering over yours, and your eyelids closing on their own. How long has it been since you’ve been close to him like this? You can’t even remember, work corrupting you for so long that this moment feels a little surreal.

“Hmm?” He teases you with a kiss on your cheek, and you shiver at the contact. “A guy can’t get a goodnight kiss before seein’ his baby off?”

You bastard… Holding back is futile when he kisses the corner of your lips, your hands cup his face, and bring him to your lips properly. He groans, the both of you sighing as your hands wrap around his neck.

You break the kiss, knowing it isn’t sufficient for you both. Toji licks your bottom lip, and you whimper as he kisses you again, a soft noise resulting from the withdrawal. “Toji—Mmm,” scarred lips claim yours once more, this time with more hunger. “I have to go…”

Your words aren’t acknowledged, not when he chews on your bottom lip — a signal for more access. Fuck, your resolve dwindles with the insertion of his tongue, almost going weak in the knees. But before that, Toji smoothly picks you up, and the sudden shift has you yelp.

“Stay with me,” Holy shit, the way he was looking at you caused your stomach to do flips. So entranced that you don’t realize he is walking to the couch to place you down on your back, crawling above you. “I missed you. Just tonight, sweetie.”

Liar, you know he wants you here for more precisely because that’s what you wish. But, “I…I can’t, I have to go—Mmmph…!”He slammed his mouth to yours again, nibbling on your lip until his tongue was let back inside your mouth. You moan, his leg propped in between yours, bumping his knee to your groin, which has you screaming silently. “Ahhnn! Toji, not there!”

“Shhh, relax, angel,” he coos, using a hand to massage your skull affectionately. He moves his knee, and you’re practically grinding on his thigh with a chewed lip.

“I can’t stay,” you’re hushed by his lips again, and your hips move on their own. “I have to go…Ohhh.”

“You say that, but look who’s ridin’ my thigh.” His chortle is low, and your stomach does knots. Toji moves your legs so he can be nestled between them, and kissing your neck melts you under him. “C’mon, princess, ya know I can’t let you go like this.”

Your brows scrunch together at him sucking your skin, legs coming around his waist as you hump into him. Toji does the same, rocking his hips to you perilously, the groin of his sweats grinding onto your bottoms, covering your throbbing chasm. God, it felt too good to stop now, your hands roaming inside his white wifebeater to purchase. 

He kisses you again, spit covering your soft lips, and you whine as he teases and sucks on your tongue; your breath hitches while his free hand slithers down inside your bottoms, and a shaky shriek is prompted by his fingers pushing into your panties.

“That’s right,” he coaxes you between pecks, loving the way your hands scratch on him. “Gonna treat ya right t’night, angel—”

However, the fun stops once you two hear the sound of a door crying, sniffling, and cries getting louder as they approach closer. It was Tsumiki, the poor girl shedding tears through her drowsy state. 

“Miki?” You call to the toddler; Toji quietly moves off you so the little brunette can come running into your arms. “Can’t sleep, sweetie?” She nods and burrows her face into your chest. You kiss her temple, “Must’ve been a nightmare.”

Her father hums and ruffles his daughter’s hair, chuckling when she swats his hand away. Toji then leans to your ear, “I’ll get the bed ready.” A mild glare meets a naughty grin before he gets up to his bedroom, leaving you on the couch to soothe the crying child back to sleep.

So much for sleeping easy tonight…

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[whatswrongwithblue]

Alastor Headcannons

Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon

SFW

Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.

Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.

The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.

He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.

That blew up in his face – almost literally.

He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.

But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.

PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.

The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.

Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.

Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.

In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.

His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.

He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.

In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.

Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.

He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.

He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.

He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.

If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.

He would never ever lay a hand on you.

If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.

Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.

At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.

He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.

Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.

That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.  

It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.

He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.

He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.

Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.

NSFW

Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.

He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.

Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.

But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.

For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.

Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.

But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.

He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.

If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.

It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.

He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.

You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.

He gets very excited when you’re in heat.

It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.

The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.

He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.

He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.

He does bite.

And slap your ass.

He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.

His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.

And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.

That’s when he dirty talks.

And that’s when he really gets rough.

You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.

And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.

They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.

And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.

He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.

You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little  . . . big.

Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.

One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.

Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.

He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.

He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.

Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.

(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my new OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)

[tragedyofdevotion]

disregard

Yandere Neuvillette x reader

Mentions of torture and blackmailing

Implied nsfw, not explicit

I hate you.

I wish you died.

These are the words you swallow up everyday as you wake up and see him looking gently at you.

You ignored him and his damned lovesick gaze in favor of the more important task to do: to get out of bed.

Despite the impression he gave as a respectable gentleman, he was never restrained during his nightly routine with you, always leaving you bruised and tired and legs too weak to stand properly. After all, a dragon will remain a beast, an animal, no matter what kind of titles as he accumulated in living among humans, pretending among humans.

The Iudex, a beloved Chief Justice of the Fountaine, a symbol of Fairness.

Under his watch, no instances that might go against the ideal of the country is allowed.

But even before you personally knew him in this way, you could not understand the trust people had on him.

If he truly valued justice, will he allow the trials to be used as entertainment for the public as if it was some kind of theatrics?

Would your best friend's father be wrong accused and meet untimely death?

Would the true culprits behind your father's death be running amock while your best friend is trying the most that she could to prove her father's innocence?

No, they wouldn't.... if Neuvillette truly valued justice and tried to find the truth behind the incident like the blonde traveler who finally uncovered the real culprits of the incident.

You hated Neuvillette for pretending something he most certainly wasn't, a human with humanly emotions.

So, you were never a fan of his.

However, back then, you weren't fully aware of how much of injustice he was willing to commit to secure his lover treasure.

As you pull back the bed sheets and tried to get up, he offered to help you, like a lover facade he is dead set on continuing.

But you ignored him, and got up on your own wobbling and shaky.

Your body was littered by his artworks of kiss marks, bite marks and hand prints. But he admire them on you as if you are the goddess of beauty herself.

"Good morning, my love."

He said his voice sweet and sugary unlike the tone he made when declaring your lover guilty for a murder you were sure he never committed.

In exchange for securing your boyfriend a safe and peaceful life in meropide fortress, you had to jump into the jaws of the awaiting beast. (So, the rumors that the Index was good friends with the Duke were true. Or at least, they were close enough to be partners in crime in making your life miserable.)

You again ignored his voice and put on your dress to cover up your body from his disgusting gaze and walked into the bathroom.

You wonder if your best friend is still trying to find you. The poor girl has just lose her two most trusted subordinates. You want nothing more than to run to her and hug her tight to say that you are okay, you are fine, you are not going to leave her.

You felt arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. The person, predictably, was none other than your husband.

You pushed away his hand and continued washing your face.

In the mirror, you could see Neuvillette looking at your reflection with puppy eyes begging for an ounce of affection.

Oh, just how much you want to poke out those eyes with a knife.

But you refrained from actually doing it because

1. He is the Hydro Sovereign whose strength rival that of Archons so your attack would probably be ineffective.

2. If you so much as point anything sharp in his general direction, your boyfriend has to face the tortures that would make grown adults to faint just by hearing it.

(You once tried to attack Neuvillette using the power of your Anemo Vision but not only did it not work, the Duke made you watch your boyfriend being tortured in front of you.)

After freshing yourself up, you ate the breakfast as silently as the morning before.

If there was one good thing about Neuvillette, he has to go out for the whole day.

So, if only you endured the most agitating breakfast of him staring at you as you eat, you will have the monster out of the house.

"I will be going out. I will try to be home as soon as I can."

You opted out his voice and laid back down on your bed and pull up covers to get some sleep to compensate for the loss of it last night.

You heard him going out of the room to go to the court for whatever trials awaiting him.

It rains in Fountaine today, too.

[evilbihan]

Bi-Han's fate - Pt. 3

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of canon-typical gore and violence, mentions of illness and character death

Notes: As it's often the case with passion projects, they tend to take on a life of their own after a while. This story has turned out far longer than I initially anticipated. Originally, it was only planned as a oneshot, but now we're on chapter 3 already and there's at least one more chapter coming after that. This particular chapter will reveal a lot and elaborate on things that were never really talked about or explained in the main story. This chapter is also emotionally heavy, so be prepared for that.

Disclaimer: see previous posts

Pairings: Bi-Han x Sektor, Kuai Liang x Harumi

Previous parts: Part 1, Part 2

Tags: @yandere-transformers-rock @lacymarygold chapter 3 is out!

He feels the unevenness of his own skin beneath his fingertips, the scars, pale and faded, a painful reminder of his suffering forever engraved into his flesh. When the drills whirred to life and descended towards him, he still held onto the foolish hope that his brothers would come to save him. Even as the needles began to tear his skin to shreds, a part of him still expected to see two familiar figures burst through the doors, a flash of silver and one of gold, both rushing to his side, coming to his rescue.

He died thinking of his brothers. He remembers it now.

Bi-Han closes his eyes, letting the gentle stream of warm water rinse those thoughts away. He doesn't want to remember.

There is no point in dwelling on these things anymore. He doesn't intend to spend his last days pitying himself or thinking of those who abandoned him. But then again... He's not sure how else to spend them. He realizes now that he doesn't know who he is anymore. Without his hatred, his bitterness, his ruthless ambition... What else is left of him?

He tells himself that it no longer matters.

He hates that the cold affects him now. Goosebumps have spread across his skin, annoying little bumps reminding him of just how weak he is now. Even the element he once wielded had turned against him.

He, Sub-Zero, is shivering. How humiliating.

He turns off the water, steps out of the shower and reaches for the towel. His wet hair sticks to his face, but he doesn't bother to brush it back. After drying himself off, he wraps the towel around his waist and returns to his room to find clean, new robes sitting on his bed. Liu Kang had them delivered to him earlier this morning, after stopping by to let him know he's being released from his confinement – and to tell him that Tomáš had returned to the Shirai Ryu. Bi-Han is surprised about the first and relieved by the latter. He doesn't want his brother to stay with him and watch him waste away slowly. Without his cryomancy and without the chaos magic to keep him alive, he assumes he will eventually decompose. It won't be pretty and it won't be a dignified end, he knows, but choice is a luxury he can no longer afford. It's better if Tomáš doesn't see him like that. And yet, a part of him can't help feeling disappointed that his brother had left.

To distract himself, Bi-Han takes a closer look at the new clothes. It's a uniform, different in style than his old one, lighter in color, white and pale blue, with a collar not quite as high and made from softer fabric. Hesitantly, he picks up one of the thin bands meant to be worn on his bicep and notices it lacks the Lin Kuei symbol. He doesn't know why Liu Kang would have this made for him, but he has to admit he likes this new uniform better than the Wu Shi academy robes. At least, he won't have to walk around looking like one of the fire god's lackeys anymore. Bi-Han ties his still slightly damp hair back into the usual bun and gets dressed without haste. He glances over at the mirror in the corner of his room, still covered by a sheet. For a moment, he's tempted to remove it, to take a look at who he is now. There's no use in holding onto the memory of who he once was. A proud grandmaster, powerful and feared. That man, he knows, is long dead, even if his body persisted.

With a deep inhale, he grabs the sheet and tears it off.

His reflection stares back at him with familiar eyes and the same stern face he had watched growing older over the years. There is no monster, no mutilated, horrifying demon looking back at him. He's the same he always has been, scarred, pale, but human. Barely a trace of Havik's grim work is left on him now, only a few faint green lines along his scars. But it doesn't matter if he still looks the same. He is someone different now. Not fully dead and not alive. No grandmaster. No cryomancer. Not even a wraith. Nothing.

He tosses the sheet back over the mirror, turns around and leaves the room, hurrying to get out of the temple.

Outside, the warmth of another late spring day greets him. Bi-Han doesn't quite know what to do with his newfound freedom. He could go to the library to read, he enjoys the quiet solitude and the smell of books, but after being inside for so long, he doesn't plan to return there just yet. Instead, he decides to take a walk through the temple gardens. Without the daily treatment, some of his strength had returned, even if only temporary, as if his body wants to remind him of just how powerful he once was before the inevitable collapse. He is still frail, still shaky on his legs, but at least he doesn't need anyone's help to walk anymore. It almost makes it worth the price he will ultimately pay, to let the chaos magic within him destroy him from the inside. For a while, he follows the winding paths, passing shrines and statues until he gets to a more quiet section of the gardens.

Further up ahead, the path ends. Someone had set up an easel there, a small table for snacks and drinks as well as benches with pillows to adorn them. A small cozy seating area in the shade of a maple tree. Bi-Han can't deny that it looks inviting. He finds a familiar shape sitting there in front of a canvas, painting.

He clears his throat and Liu Kang turns around.

"Oh, Bi-Han..." The fire god greets him with a warm smile. "I didn't hear you approaching. Please sit down. Help yourself to some tea."

"You paint?"

"You sound surprised."

Bi-Han scoffs. "I didn't think a god would take interest in something so trivial."

"Creating this timeline was a lengthy and tedious process. Before I had Geras to keep me company, I felt lonely. To preserve my own sanity, I decided to take up a... What do mortals call it?" He pauses to search his mind for the right word. Then, a smile spreads across his face. "Ah, yes. A hobby."

Bi-Han raises an eyebrow, but chooses not to comment on it.

He finds it ridiculous to mindlessly scribble on paper. An entirely useless activity. And messy, he thinks to himself as he scrunches his nose at the sight of the colorful stains on Liu Kang's hands. However, he decides to keep his thoughts to himself this once.

"Since you're here now..." Liu Kang gestures towards his unfinished work on the easel. "Tell me what you see."

"Lines of paint on a canvas. What else is there to see?"

"They're memories", Liu Kang corrects him. "Take a look at this tree. Next spring, these leaves won't be the same. Once they are gone, we can only cherish the memory of them. Human lives are much the same. You should value yours more."

Bi-Han crosses his arms and decides to ignore the last part. "I'm familiar with the concept of mortality."

Liu Kang smiles. "Of course."

Although he has no interest in it, Bi-Han steps closer to inspect the painting. To him, it's meaningless. He recognizes that the fire god had indeed drawn the maple tree in front of him, some of the lines depitcting its thick branches with the finer strokes resembling leaves. He has to admit Liu Kang is good at this, even if he fails to see how such passtime activities serve any purpose.

"Your words the other day... I've been thinking about them. You were right, I have failed to save many." The fire god's tone and expression suddenly become more serious. "I've always valued your honesty with me. So tell me, have I doomed this timeline?"

The question perplexes him. Why is Liu Kang asking him, of all people? Liu Kang rarely cares to hear his opinion – one of the reasons why Bi-Han had taken issue with working for him in the first place.

He doesn't answer right away.

For the longest time, Bi-Han had held a grudge against Liu Kang, for causing the rift between his brothers and him, for refusing to give the Lin Kuei what they rightfully deserve, for not allowing him to kill Havik, for insisting on curing him and forcing him to live through the agonizing process of becoming human once more... And yet... He thinks back to how tirelessly Liu Kang had cared for him. When Bi-Han had lashed out at the healers, Liu Kang had patiently taken on the task of tending to his scars himself, bringing him food and medicine, even guiding him through breathing exercies to help calm him down when his mind was taking him back to Havik's dungeons. Everything Liu Kang had done for him, Bi-Han knows he cannot repay it in this lifetime. He understands now that Liu Kang isn't at fault for what happened to him. He knows he has no one to blame for his mistakes but himself. Even if his pride doesn't allow him to admit it, he is grateful that Liu Kang hasn't given up on him.

"You haven't doomed your timeline", he responds after some time had passed. "But you are too merciful with its enemies. You believe you can save lives and still be good and just. There's a cost to each live you save. When I became grandmaster, I understood I had to make impossible choices and live with them. Sometimes that meant striking preemptively and punishing harshly to not allow a threat to come back. You show kindness even to those undeserving. It's... foolish."

"It's not foolish to show kindness, Bi-Han."

"To assume it will be returned is."

Liu Kang puts the brush down with a sigh and turns to face him fully. "What do you mean?"

"You cannot save everyone, Liu Kang. It's a noble goal. But it's unattainable. Spare your enemies once and they will return stronger. More will die. Is that what you want?"

Liu Kang shakes his head. "If I answer bloodshed with bloodshed, how will I be different from those seeking to destroy this timeline?"

"The difference is your intention."

The firegod doesn't respond. He seems lost in thought for a while, pursing his lips as he stares off into the distance with a slight frown. Bi-Han can tell his words have sparked doubt. Liu Kang must know that he's right, even if he's not willing to say so out loud. Eventually, the fire god's attention turns back to him and he smiles.

Bi-Han narrows his eyes. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Now I finally understand. This is why this timeline needs you, Bi-Han."

"To do the dirty work for you?"

"To protect it when I cannot. This is what you're meant to do." Liu Kang casts his eyes down and sighs. "I regret that I wasn't able to save you."

Instead of responding, Bi-Han sits down on one of the benches and reaches for a cup of tea. "I don't blame you anymore. My choices were my own."

"I should have tried harder to stop you, for your own sake. I believed that mortals must make their own decisions. I never intended to control them, despite of what you might believe. You were always free to pursue your own ambitions."

"Then why did you try to stand in my way?"

"Because your ambition blinds you, Bi-Han. The greatness you strive to achieve, you have already achieved it, even if you fail to see that. It was always there. In the admiration your brothers had for you. In your Lin Kuei's reverence for you. To them, there was never a greater warrior or a worthier grandmaster. When you chose to resign from your duties, your clan didn't hesitate to follow you. All of your Lin Kuei were willing to lay down their lives for you in a heartbeat. That is power, Bi-Han. You have always held power." Liu Kang shakes his head sadly. "Was it not enough to you? Whose approval do you seek? What is it that you want?"

It doesn't happen often that he finds himself speechless, but this time Bi-Han doesn't know what to say. He had never thought of it that way. His father's words echo in his mind, words he wishes he could forget. He remembers how his brothers used to compare him to the late grandmaster, criticizing his every decision when all he had wanted to do was to prepare their clan for the future. They can't continue to fight their enemies with spears and daggers. The Lin Kuei need to keep up with the world around them, a world that constantly evolves and changes. To his brothers, however, his visions had only been a stain on their father's legacy and an insult to the Lin Kuei's traditions. To them and to his father, his efforts hadn't been good enough. Never good enough.

"You wouldn't understand", Bi-Han mutters bitterly.

"Then help me to understand."

Bi-Han grits his teeth. "What's the purpose of greatness when no one knows of it?"

Liu Kang sighs. "Earthrealm cannot know about the Lin Kuei. It would only lead to chaos and you've seen the damage chaos causes first hand. Believe me, it is also in the Lin Kuei's interest if their existence remains a secret. If you truly wish to protect your clan, you must understand this."

The fire god watches him, almost as if he's waiting for him to protest. He doesn't.

"If you're still unhappy, I am willing to discuss new terms with you."

"It's Sektor you should be discussing terms with, not me.” Bi-Han tries the tea. It's surprisingly good, pleasantly warm and not too sweet.

"I still haven't given up on saving you", Liu Kang reminds him with a small smile.

Bi-Han snorts in disapproval. "You already know what I want. A part of Earthrealm."

"I do not own Earthrealm, Bi-Han. I'm its protector."

"Then you have nothing to give me."

"I regret that you think so."

Bi-Han watches Liu Kang pick up a cup of tea himself. He doesn't know if gods need to eat or drink and he also doesn't care to ask.

"I want my clan's freedom."

"Your clan has always been free."

"Yet you expect us to serve you."

The fire god shakes his head. "No, I've never asked that of you. Protecting this timeline is in your interest as well. I never asked for servitude or worship, Bi-Han. If that is what you believe, you must have misunderstood my intentions."

Bi-Han falls silent. Perhaps he had indeed misjudged Liu Kang.

"I've always considered you an equal." Liu Kang admits. "In fact, I have come to think of you as a friend."

"I don't have friends."

"Then consider me your ally."

Two years ago, Bi-Han would have been convinced that Liu Kang's words are nothing but empty lies, a clever attempt to manipulate him and earn his trust. But now... He doesn't know anymore. If it weren't for the fire god, he wouldn't still be alive, so nearly restored and human again. Even when his own brothers had turned their backs on him, Liu Kang had refused to give up on him, making pleas to Empress Mileena to ensure his life would be spared, agreeing to restore him, even after Bi-Han had continuously disobeyed him.

"I was a fool to believe Shang Tsung's lies", he finally admits. It takes all of his willpower to do so. His pride rarely allows him to acknowledge when he's in the wrong.

"You were tempted by his false promises. Don't blame yourself."

He does blame himself, but he doesn't say so out loud.

"You seem much more at peace now. I can see that talking to Tomáš has helped you."

"The paint on your brush is drying."

Liu Kang smiles. "I hope you can reconcile with your brothers, Bi-Han."

"Why? Tomas has left to rejoin Kuai Liang. They've made their decision and I've made mine."

"Tomáš didn't leave. I sent him away to ask Kuai Liang for the Arctikan Hailstone. He left because he's trying to save your life."

Again, he's left speechless. Why would Tomáš try and convince Kuai Liang to save him? In all these years, Bi-Han had never been a good brother to him. He knows this. Tomáš should hate him. He has plenty of reasons to. Bi-Han doesn't understand why Tomas would do this for him. Why go through all this effort to save someone like him? He doesn't deserve it.

"Kuai Liang won't give the stone to him."

Liu Kang raises his eyebrows. "What makes you say that?"

Bi-Han takes another sip from his cup and grimaces. The tea suddenly tastes bitter. "If anyone wants my death more than Shao, more than Empress Mileena, even more than I do... it's Kuai Liang."

-

He crouches into a low fighting stance opposite from his grandmaster, his gaze following Kuai Liang's every move, bracing himself for the incoming attack. When his brother hesitates, he decides to strike first, the punch a mere demonstration of technique, not a blow aimed to land. Kuai Liang will easily be able to dodge or block it, and yet he puts much more force behind it than necessary, his lingering anger from yesterday manifesting in a more aggressive fighting style. Kuai Liang catches his fist and Tomáš notices the brief look of surprise on his face before his brother counters with a kick aimed at his ribs. Tomáš uses his forearm to block it. Pain shoots all the way up into his shoulder, but he doesn't let that slow him down. They trade a few more blows while their recruits watch in stunned silence, their eyes wide and mouths agape. This sparring session is meant to teach them how to utilize the basics they had already learned, how to find the opening in an opponent's defense and how to dodge even the most vicious attacks.

Throughout most of the training match they don't talk to each other.

They hadn't spoken again after their heated argument yesterday and Tomas can tell Kuai Liang has no interest in picking up the topic that had caused their dispute once more. He also hadn't seen Kuai Liang during breakfast this morning. Usually, they would warm up with a friendly spar before the actual training starts, they would talk about upcoming missions or discuss the progress of their disciples, but this time it's different. It is obvious to him that Kuai Liang avoids him. Tomáš had planned to return to the fire temple today, but he knows there is no point in returning without the Arctikan Hailstone. He has no choice but to stay and convince Kuai Liang to help him if he wants to save their brother's life. Time is running out, he knows. If he can't get the Arctikan Hailstone soon–

His thoughts are interrupted when Kuai Liang's fist connects with his nose, sending sharp pain through his skull. Tears well up in his eyes. With a groan, Tomáš stumbles back. He shakes his head, blinking rapidly to clear his sight and get rid of the dizziness threatening to overwhelm him. It takes him a moment to regain his composure.

"You're not focused", Kuai Liang scolds him.

"At least one of us should care that our brother is dying."

"This again?"

"You still won't hear me out?"

"We're done talking about this matter."

"I don't think so."

They begin to round each other.

"I thought I had made my stance on it clear yesterday."

"It's still not too late to look for the stone, brother", Tomáš says almost pleadingly. "I know you're angry, but please reconsider."

Kuai Liang's expression only hardens further. "My choice is final."

"So is mine", Tomáš says firmly. "If you won't help me, I'll search for the stone myself."

"As your grandmaster, I forbid it."

"Forbid it? You can't do that."

"Yes, I can!" Kuai Liang snaps. When Tomáš only glares at him in response, he shakes his head with a sigh. "What happened to you, Tomáš? I thought you were on my side."

"I am on your side."

"Then let this go."

"I can't."

This time, it's Kuai Liang who initiates the first attack. Tomáš parries it effortlessly and manages to catch his brother in an armlock.

"Bi-Han is the reason father died", Kuai Liang grunts as he struggles to free himself from his grip. "How do you still dare to defend him? You and I both owe father our loyalty."

"I owe father my loyalty?" Tomáš twists his brother's arm slightly. "Did you know that his mistakes killed my family?"

Kuai Liang's eyes suddenly flash with anger. "Is that what Bi-Han told you? How can you say such awful things? Father would have never allowed innocent people to die! He took you in and this is how you honor his memory? You believe Bi-Han's lies?"

"Right", Tomáš hisses. "Father took me in. You and Bi-Han are always so eager to remind me of that. Do you think I asked for my family to be murdered, so I could be taken in by your clan?"

"What? No, brother, you know that's not what I–"

"Save it."

Tomáš pushes Kuai Liang back and steps off the mats. The room suddenly feels suffocating.

"Tomáš."

He ignores Kuai Liang's voice calling out to him. He needs to get out of here.

The confused faces of their recruits staring at him become a blur. Suddenly, he feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back and forcing him to turn around. His hands twitch.

Kuai Liang says something, but he cannot discern what it is.

He cannot hear his brother's voice over the Enenra's quiet laughter.

Not now. Not again.

Darkness seeps in from the corners of his vision, twisting the shape of Kuai Liang into a sinister silhoutte, distorted and hazy. Smoke coils around his fists. He can smell it, taste it. The Enenra whispers to him, a chorus of voices, both foreign and familiar. Two of them he recognizes. His mother and sister. The Enenra knows it found a weakness, it digs its claws into that scar and tears it open. Tomáš tries to fight it. The Shirai Ryu never use weapons during their sparring sessions, but he finds himself reaching for his hunting knife.

The angry frown disappears from Kuai Liang's face, instead replaced with a look of concern.

"Tomáš? Brother? What's wrong?"

His brother takes a step towards him. Tomáš backs away. He doesn't want to hurt Kuai Liang. "Stay back", he warns. "Don't come closer!"

Kuai Liang doesn't listen.

Tomáš attacks him. His karambit slashes through the air, inches away from Kuai Liang's chest. His brother's eyes widen as he stumbles back. The Enenra shrieks and forces him to attack again. His arm darts out to stab Kuai Liang, but in an instant, his brother's rope spear wraps around his wrist. Tomáš is pulled forward as Kuai Liang tugs on the rope. He uses the momentum to bring his knee up and kick Kuai Liang in the stomach. With a groan of pain, his grandmaster doubles over. Another slash of the knife. This time, he draws blood.

"What has gotten into you?" Kuai Liang clutches his bleeding arm.

He doesn't react, his eyes trained on the tip of his hunting knife pointing shakily at Kuai Liang's throat.

Your brothers think so little of you. Go ahead. Teach them to fear you.

With every fiber of his being he fights the urge to give in to the Enenra's voice.

Get out of my head!

All he hears is quiet, distant laughter.

He staggers back as if pushed by an invisible force. This time, he doesn't wait for another word from Kuai Liang. He turns around and flees the training room, running and running, through hallways and past startled Shirai Ryu recruits, until he's finally outside, breathing in the cool morning air. He takes a seat on the steps of one of their makeshift barracks and buries his face in his hands. No one else is here except for him. Good, Tomáš thinks to himself. That means he won't be able to attack anyone else.

To calm down, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on his breathing. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn't. Today, he gets lucky. Slowly, the Enenra's grip on him loosens, the dark fog in his mind disappears, allowing him to think clearly again. Regardless, he doesn't dare to return yet. He almost feels sick with guilt as he remembers that he injured Kuai Liang. Maybe he should go back to check on him, but he still doesn't fully trust himself.

"Tomáš?"

He jumps at the sound of the familiar voice behind him. How did Kuai Liang follow him here so quickly? He turns his head, brows furrowing as he spots the fresh cut on Kuai Liang's upper arm, crudely bandaged with a piece of cloth torn off a Shirai Ryu uniform.

"What happened to you back there?" His brother sits down next to him, his eyes full of concern.

All Tomáš can do is shake his head. How can he even begin to explain what happened? He should have never kept this from Kuai Liang in the first place. Would his brother be angry at him because he didn't say anything sooner? Or worse, would he be worried about him? Tomáš already feels like a stain on Kuai Liang's happiness. His brother had started a family of his own now, he shouldn't have to worry about him too. However, Tomáš doesn't want to lie to Kuai Liang. Sooner or later, his brother will find out about the Enenra anyway. At least, Kuai Liang can better protect himself and the Shirai Ryu if he knows what he's up against.

Tomáš takes a deep breath... and, step by step, he fills Kuai Liang in on everything. He tells him about the Enenra, about the nightmares he had been having as a boy and how those nightmares had returned after they had left the Lin Kuei. He even mentions how Bi-Han and the Lin Kuei's master of arcane had come up with a way to weaken the Enenra's influence on him and how the reason he easily loses control now is that he no longer has access to the potion he used to drink daily with his morning tea.

By the time he's done, Kuai Liang looks even more concerned than he did before.

"Why haven't you told me about this earlier? I could have helped. I could have-" His brother stops mid-sentence and shakes his head with a sigh. "I wish I had known."

"I was planning to tell you", Tomáš mumbles. "But you were so busy with your grandmaster duties, with the preparations for your wedding. Then the Lin Kuei attacked us and this whole mess with Havik happened. I didn't want to burden you with my own struggles."

Carefully, Kuai Liang lifts his injured arm to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. "You're my brother, Tomáš. You'd never be a burden to me."

It feels good to hear those words. Perhaps he needed to hear them, to know that Kuai Liang still cares, that they're still brothers. Slowly, Tomáš nods.

"I wanted to apologize", Kuai Liang says quietly. "I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you yesterday."

"It's okay. I want to apologize too." Tomáš offers a small smile. Then he nods towards Kuai Liang's injury. "How is your arm?"

"It's just a scratch. Don't worry about it." Kuai Liang sighs. "You should bring this up with Lord Liu Kang. He must be able to help you somehow."

Tomáš shakes his head. "No, I can't trouble him with that right now. He's already doing his best to heal Bi-Han. He needs to focus on that first."

Kuai Liang lets out a disgruntled huff. "He shouldn't bother."

Not this again.

"You shouldn't say that. And you should have searched for the stone, Kuai Liang", Tomáš says in a more serious tone. "This isn't only about Bi-Han. Can't you see that? If Bi-Han dies, Sektor will seek blame from Lord Liu Kang. She's going to demand answers and when she finds out that she lost Bi-Han because you refused to look for the stone, our clan and the Lin Kuei will be at war again. The peace in this timeline will be disrupted once more. You and I both know that the Shirai Ryu aren't strong enough to take on the Lin Kuei yet. Dozens of our recruits would be slaughtered in vain. You're gambling away their lives too, Kuai Liang.”

His brother sighs. It seems like he wants to disagree, but to his relief, he doesn't. Maybe he can get through to Kuai Liang this time.

"I'm not asking you to forgive Bi-Han", Tomáš explains. "I could never ask that of you. In fact, I don't know if I can ever fully forgive him myself. All I'm asking is that you help me save his life."

He can see Kuai Liang is fighting an inner battle, torn between wanting vengeance and doing what is expected of him. Perhaps, there's still a part of him that cares about Bi-Han, even if Tomas is beginning to doubt that more and more.

Finally, Kuai Liang opens his mouth to respond. "I-"

"Grandmaster!"

Tomáš turns around to see another Shirai Ryu warrior running up to them.

"You're required at the gates immediately", the man chokes out between heavy breaths. "We have... visitors."

Tomáš doesn't have the slightest clue who those visitors could be, but he can tell from this man's expression that they aren't allies or any welcomed guests. He gets up and anxiously follows Kuai Liang.

As they get to the gates, they are met with a group of Lin Kuei warriors waiting to be let in. Three of them in total, two men and a woman. At first glance, they appear unarmed.

Kuai Liang narrows his eyes in suspicion as he approaches them.

"State your business."

The woman steps forward and bows to greet them. "We are here on behalf of our grandmistress. Our intentions are peaceful."

"Like the last time you came here?", Kuai Liang growls.

"We should at least hear them out, brother." Tomáš can tell that Kuai Liang has no interest in doing so, but the Shirai Ryu and the Lin Kuei had been at peace with each other since Sektor took over the clan. She had earned the right to at least be heard out by them.

"We have come to deliver a gift. From the Lin Kuei's mage to the Shirai Ryu's mage." One of the two men holds out an ornate wooden box to them.

"What is this?", Kuai Liang asks.

"That information was not shared with us", the woman tells them. "We've only been told to deliver it here."

Kuai Liang glares at the box. "Whatever it is, take it back with you. We have no need for it."

Instead of retreating, the woman steps closer. "Our grandmistress already agreed to a truce between our clans. Do you mean to insult her?"

Tomáš recognizes the hint of a threat in her voice, so subtle he almost misses it.

"Tell us what's inside", Kuai Liang demands.

"I already told you. We do not know."

"Talk“, Kuai Liang hisses. "You'll regret it if you don't."

"Brother, they're just messengers", Tomáš attempts to diffuse the situation. "They might not know what's in the box."

"What if they're spies? Lin Kuei can't be trusted."

"Some of us can't be." The woman gives Kuai Liang a pointed look.

"What are you implying?" It's Kuai Liang's turn to take a threatening step towards her now. Suddenly, the air feels thick with tension.

"Kuai Liang, they've done nothing to offend us", Tomáš says calmly. "Our code of honor demands that we let them go."

"They set foot on Shirai Ryu ground." Kuai Liang crosses his arms. "That goes against the terms we agreed on."

"We were invited in", the woman says almost smugly.

Kuai Liang glares. "I don't remember inviting you in."

"Because I did."

Pushing her way past the other Shirai Ryu that had gathered outside, Harumi approaches the Lin Kuei messengers, putting herself between them and Kuai Liang. Behind her, Cyrax watches closely, seemingly just as wary of the Lin Kuei's intentions as Kuai Liang. She takes the wooden box out of the messenger's hands and studies it carefully.

"You're free to leave." Harumi waves her hand at the three Lin Kuei warriors and one of their recruits quickly leads them away.

Kuai Liang watches them walk away with a frown. "We just let them go?"

Harumi shrugs. "They have done no harm. Why should we keep them here?"

Glowering, Kuai Liang gestures towards the box. "We shouldn't have accepted this. Nothing good can come from people like Sektor."

"We'll know whether that's true or not in just a second", Cyrax chimes in.

Some kind of scanner on her armor beeps to life as she presses a button on her glove's control panel. Tomáš watches a pattern of green beams dance across the dark surface of the wood. Then the box is offered to him.

"My scan detected nothing unusual. It should be safe to open."

Tomáš takes the box and carefully lifts the lid, his eyes widening at the sight of what's inside of it.

A scroll. Handwritten notes. Messy sketches he cannot decipher.

Kuai Liang looks over his shoulder. "What is this?"

"I don't know." Tomáš picks up one of the notes and studies it briefly. "They look like... recipes." Then he takes out the scroll. It's surprisingly heavy, the paper ancient... He can't explain why, but he's almost certain he had seen it somewhere before.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut.

It's the same scroll he saw in the flashback Geras showed him... The one about the Enenra. But how would Sektor know about it? Only two people in the Lin Kuei were aware of the Enenra. Master Xiaoqing... and Bi-Han. Tomáš nearly drops the box as all the pieces in his mind finally fall into place.

-

By the time he returns to his quarters, the strength he had felt in the morning had already left him, instead replaced by a dull, throbbing ache residing deep within his bones. Liu Kang had to help him settle back into bed, which was by far the most unbearable part of it all. Bi-Han had always loathed needing help. To make matters worse, Liu Kang had come back a mere hour later to inform him that Tomáš had returned... and that Kuai Liang is with him. At first, Bi-Han is reluctant to speak to his brothers. He tells the fire god that he doesn't wish to see them. His anger had been dormant for so long, but at the very thought of seeing Kuai Liang again, it resurfaces, bringing back the bitter taste of betrayal. Were it for him, they would only see each other again in the Netherrealm.

Unfortunately, the decision is made for him.

There's a brief knock on the door that he ignores, then it swings open and Tomáš steps into the room with Kuai Liang trailing behind him.

For the first time since the battle against Havik, they are face to face with each other again. Reunited at last.

It had almost been two years.

"Bi-Han."

"Kuai Liang." He spits out his brother's name like a mouthful of venom.

His brother looks different, yet all the same, his forehead marked by frown lines, just like Bi-Han's own. Hatred had carved deep lines into his face, making him appear older despite being a few years younger than Bi-Han himself. Even Kuai Liang's posture mirrors his own now, upright and tense, shoulders raised to carry the burden of leading his own clan. If anything, those subtle changes only highlight the resemblence between them, making the features they share all the more obvious. The irony of it, Bi-Han thinks. The more Kuai Liang pretends to be different than him, better than him, honorable and just, the more he begins to become him. Despite his anger, Bi-Han can't help feeling guilty at the sight of the ugly red scar over Kuai Liang's right eye. It is only right that he is scarred now too, he knows. All his wrongdoings... Fate had returned them to him tenfold.

Bi-Han has nothing to say to his brothers.

Kuai Liang's betrayal is embedded in his very soul like a thorn. The last person he had expected to turn against him had been the man he shared blood with. To think that Kuai Liang, his brother who he had helped raise, had been willing to leave him to die...

The hatred in Kuai Liang's eyes burns just as bright as it did the last time they had seen each other, an inextinguishable fire he assumes only his death could appease. Bi-Han's own resentment grows stronger by the second. It infuriates him, to see his younger brother living his life, holding his title. Kuai Liang is grandmaster. Kuai Liang still has his pyromancy. Kuai Liang is married to the woman he loves, while Sektor and him had been forced apart, separated, most likely never to see each other again. Kuai Liang is respected by all, while his former allies deem him a traitor now. He clenches his fists so hard his knuckles crack.

"How are you, brother?"

Of course, it's Tomáš who asks. Not Kuai Liang. The concern in his voice only annoys Bi-Han more.

"That's irrelevant“, he growls. "Why did you bring him here?"

"I came to hear the truth from you", Kuai Liang responds. "I want you to tell me how father died."

"The truth?" Bi-Han scoffs. "I'll happily take it to the grave with me if it means you won't get what you want."

"Brother, please..." Tomáš rubs his forehead in frustration. "I brought Kuai Liang here, so the three of us can talk. So we can fix this. We're brothers. We shouldn't be fighting each other. This is your chance to make things right, Bi-Han."

He resists the urge to laugh. His chance to make things right? He doesn't remember doing anything wrong. He had only ever wanted what's best for his brothers, for their clan... They had abandoned him. He owes them nothing now.

"I don't need to justify myself to you."

"You're still as despicable as you've always been." Kuai Liang spits. "Give me one good reason why I should save you."

"You shouldn't", Bi-Han says coldly. "I don't want to be saved. Least of all by you. The Netherrealm will have us both one day, brother. Then you'll pay for your betrayal."

"My betrayal? None of this would have happened, had you not sold your soul to Shang Tsung!" Kuai Liang points an accusing finger at him. "You even betrayed your own father! How could you let him die?"

"I did what had to be done. And you should be grateful."

Kuai Liang tries to lunge at him, but Tomáš holds him back. He watches Kuai Liang struggle to free himself from Smoke's grip, his face red with fury.

"How could you, Bi-Han? Why did you let father die?"

"Because he killed mother!"

It's a relief, to finally say it out loud. For years, the truth had haunted him. It had festered in his heart like a disease, poisoning him, eating away at his soul. Now he's finally free of it. He has nothing left to lose, no one left to lie for. No reason to continue protecting his brothers from the harsh truth about the gruesome fate their parents had met.

Silence follows his confession. His brothers stare at him, wide-eyed, shock written across their faces.

"What?", Tomáš breathes.

"Liar!" Kuai Liang's face twitches. "You'd stop at nothing to get what you want! Father is gone because of you and you still speak ill of him?"

"It's true", Bi-Han insists. "Mother's death was his fault! She died because of father's failures! Because of his foolishness."

"What nonesense are you talking?" Kuai Liang snaps. "It wasn't father's fault. Mother was ill–"

"Her illness was a lie."

There is no point in keeping secrets anymore. He might as well tell them everything now.

"Mother was never sick", he continues. "Father wanted you to believe that, but she didn't die of some disease. She died on a mission, one that he sent her on."

Kuai Liang narrows his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Bi-Han doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he sits up slowly and tries to gather enough strength to speak. There is much he needs to say and he's not sure if he still has enough energy for it.

Finally, he clears his throat. "A week before our mother's death, father got word that the Tengu clan was preparing for an attack on the Lin Kuei. Our spies got caught and had to flee before they could learn more about our enemy's plans. Without the details, the information they brought back to us was useless. We needed someone else on the inside to gather the rest of the intel. However, infiltrating the Tengu was no longer an option. They had already become too wary of any new initiates. So father decided on a different strategy."

"What kind of strategy?"

Bi-Han ignores Kuai Liang's question. "Our clan was vulnerable back then. In previous years, we had lost many good warriors. An attack from our rival clan at that time would have been devastating. Mother knew how much depended on the success of that mission, so she volunteered to let herself get captured by the Tengu in order to get inside their fortress. The mission was simple. Retrieve the intel needed and get out unseen. An easy task for any Lin Kuei. She was supposed to return the same day, but... she never came back." He pauses briefly, clenching his fists in helpless rage as he relives the memories. His father's blank expression as he delivers the news to him... The emptiness he had felt deep within him, first disbelief, then anger... At father's lack of care. At how calm and indifferent he had looked, talking about her death... At himself for failing to prevent it... Emotion seeps into his voice, nearling making it tremble. "A few days later, the Tengu sent her dead body back to us. I don't know what they did to her. Father wouldn't let me see her. He told everyone she died of a sudden illness. Those who knew what happened were told to never speak of it again. He wouldn't even let me mourn her. A future grandmaster doesn't weep, he told me." Another pause, longer this time. He grits his teeth. "I was furious. I asked him why he let her go on such a dangerous mission, why he didn't send out anyone to rescue her. Do you know what his response was? He told me that he couldn't remember. He simply forgot to save her. I didn't believe him. Mother always opposed him. She hated how attached he was to tradition. She wanted our clan to prepare for the future. I was convinced that father left her to die on purpose. From that day on, I resented him. I assumed that he had just waited for an opportunity to get rid of mother... But then I found the records."

"What records?"

"Medical records. After what happened to mother, I was determined to get answers. In my grief, I was blind to it at first, but eventually I started to see the pattern. In the last six years of father's reign as grandmaster, there was an increasing number of incidents that shouldn't have happened. Civil casualties. Lin Kuei getting captured or even killed on missions because they were given wrong intel and impossible orders to follow. I didn't understand why, so I went through older reports of failed missions, dating all the way back to your family's death in Prague, Tomáš. Mission after mission gone wrong. I had suspected that father was getting senile for a while. He was old and his behavior was odd at times."

Looking back at it now, he feels like a fool for not understanding the signs sooner. Once a calm and level-headed man, his father had become easily irritable in the last years of his life, even developing a tendency to forget names and misplace things. Maybe if he had learned the truth sooner, his father wouldn't have had to die.

Bi-Han takes a deep breath before continuing. "Initially, I didn't think much of it, but... Attached to those mission reports I found were test results and some old prescriptions... For medication preventing cognitive decline. Father... was suffering from dementia."

He watches all the color drain from his brothers' faces.

"You monster!" Kuai Liang suddenly yells. The finger pointing at Bi-Han is shaking now. "Is that why you wanted him dead? Father was ill, so you thought you could replace him?"

"I never intended for him to die", Bi-Han responds calmly. "Father tried to keep his ailment a secret. That is why he took you in, Tomáš. He couldn't risk anyone finding out that he made a mistake. When I learned about it, I went to confront him. I urged him to step down for the sake of our clan. I worried that more people would die because of his mistakes. His stubbornness already cost mother's life. I... I worried that the two of you would be next. I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen. He claimed he was still fit to lead the Lin Kuei. Because I talked back to him, he punished me to kneel on the frozen lake behind our fortress. I knelt there for hours. The weather got worse and I was about to return when I saw a shape through the fog. I chased after it, only to see that it was father. I don't know what made him walk out into that blizzard. Maybe he was confused. Maybe he was looking for something. Regardless, I followed him. I shouted at him to stop, to turn around and come back, but he ignored me. I watched him walk out onto the lake, further and further. Out there, the ice was thinner. I tried to warn him, but the storm was too loud. I suppose he couldn't hear me over the noise of the wind. Ahead, I saw the ice crack and break, then a voice screaming for help, I ran towards it as quickly as I could. When I got there, I saw that father had broken through the ice. I held out my hand towards him, but he... He didn't even recognize me. He was babbling and speaking nonsense. He..." Bi-Han swallows hard. He doesn't know why his eyes suddenly burn. Why his throat feels tight and his chest so heavy. "I understood that saving him was pointless then. He would have doomed us. I had to protect you. I had to protect our clan. I couldn't let any more Lin Kuei die."

His brothers don't speak and he can't bring himself to look at them. Maybe they resent him more now. He cannot hold it against them.

"If you wish for me to suffer before I die, then go ahead", Bi-Han says quietly. "I won't resist. But even if you torture me, you won't hear me say I regret what I did. Because of my decision, you and Tomas got to live."

He feels so much lighter now, the last of the weight on his shoulders gone. He doesn't care if his brothers forgive him, he doesn't need their forgiveness.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Kuai Liang's voice cracks. "All these years, you've kept us in the dark. You–"

"Now you know", Bi-Han cuts him off. "What good does it do you?"

Kuai Liang doesn't respond.

"I kept this from you because I meant to shield you from the truth." Bi-Han glares, his gaze boring into Kuai Liang's. "I hope it haunts you as it haunted me."

Slowly, his brother shakes his head. "No, you're lying... You never cared about protecting us. I don't believe a word out of your mouth!"

"He's telling the truth."

His brothers both turn around as Geras enters the room, followed by Liu Kang.

"I am willing to show it to you now", the construct says as he looks over at Kuai Liang.

"Show me what?"

"How your father died." Geras begins to shape a sphere of sand between his palms. "With your permission, Lord Liu Kang...“

The fire god nods.

A scene comes to life before them. A memory.

Bi-Han recognizes it.

A younger version of himself stands before the late grandmaster, eyes downcast and shoulders tense. The room is dimly lit by candleflames.

"You should retire, father", Bi-Han's voice sounds oddly loud in the quiet throne room. "You cannot continue leading the Lin Kuei like this."

His father glares at him. "And what would you know about leadership?"

"I know what you taught me", he replies. "A grandmaster should always act in the best interest of his clan. You have to step down. Let me lead the Lin Kuei."

His father descends the steps leading up to his throne, stops before him and with the back of his gloved hand, he strikes Bi-Han hard across the face.

Bi-Han watches his brothers flinch as he's slapped. Absentmindely, he reaches up to touch the small, barely visible scar above his upper lip, a permanent reminder of the very moment they're witnessing right now. He can feel his brothers' eyes on him, those stupid, sympathetic looks they're giving him... He averts his gaze. He doesn't want their pity.

His younger self shows no reaction to being hit. When he touches the corner of his mouth, his hand comes away red. Staring blankly at his father, he wipes the blood on his uniform.

"Ungrateful son!", the grandmaster growls. "You're looking to replace me! You just want the grandmaster title for yourself."

"I only worry for the Lin Kuei's future."

"It's not for you to worry about!" His father yells.

Bi-Han lowers his gaze. "My brothers' lives are."

"You dare to talk back? The clan always comes first", his father reprimands him. "And the Lin Kuei are still my clan. Were it for me, it would never be yours."

He clenches his fists at his sides, though his expression remains the same. A mask, unchanging and unmoving. No matter how hard he tries to pretend he's unaffected by his father's harsh words, they hurt regardless.

"It should have been Kuai Liang", the grandmaster mutters to himself. "He should have been my firstborn son. But what I want doesn't matter. We must follow tradition."

Bi-Han exhales slowly. "If you want Kuai Liang to be your heir so badly, why don't you send me to the Tengu clan to die as you did with mother? Then Kuai Liang would be your successor."

"Watch your mouth, Bi-Han", his father warns him. "I should have you beaten for your impudence. Your mother already failed. You would fair no better." The grandmaster shakes his head. "Perhaps I should send Kuai Liang. He's always been more capable than you."

"Kuai Liang?" Bi-Han's eyes widen. "You can't send him! He's too young. He's still inexperienced. You'd be sending him to his death!"

"Enough! I've made my decision." His father turns around, walks back up the steps and takes a seat in the grandmaster chair. "For your audacity today, go and kneel outside until the sun sets. Maybe that will cool your temper."

"But-"

"Not another word! Now leave."

Reluctantly, Bi-Han bows his head. "Yes, grandmaster."

The vision fades, but the pain it brought back lingers. To his father, he had never been good enough. No matter how hard he had trained, how many times he had pushed himself past his limits to become stronger, to become better, his father had never noticed, had never praised him for it. All his efforts had gone unseen.

Bi-Han glances over at Kuai Liang, finding a twisted sense of comfort in how devasted and guilty his brother looks now.

"Bi-Han, I- I didn't know...", Kuai Liang stammers. "I had no idea that-"

"Father always favored you", he says grimly. "He considered you special because of your pyromancy. He wanted you to succeed him, not me."

"You could have told me!" Kuai Liang complains. "Why did you never talk to me? We were brothers."

"You're right", Bi-Han responds. "We were."

Before his brother can answer, the sand rearranges itself into a new scene. A frozen landscape, vast and barren. Glaring white as far as the eye can see. Ice and snow. His home.

"Father! Come back!"

Bi-Han runs towards the familiar figure behind the veil of snow and mist, or at least he tries to, but the wind pushes him back with unwavering fury. His feet find no hold on the slippery surface of the frozen lake. The faster he moves, the more cracks he can see forming on the ice below him.

His father pushes forward through the storm.

In his memories, Bi-Han cannot recall hearing him say a word. But now, over the raging Arctikan winds, he can make out a single word. A name.

"Bi-Han."

His father had been looking for him...

He has no heartbeat anymore, but he knows his heart, once frozen and unfeeling, still functions because he feels it clench so painfully in his chest, he finds himself gasping for breath. His vision blurs, the scene in front of him becoming unclear and faded.

He hears the sickening sound of the ice cracking... Then the shouts for help...

Bi-Han stumbles and falls to his knees at the edge of the gaping hole in the lake's icy surface. "Father! Give me your hand!" He reaches out his arm for the old grandmaster to take, but his father doesn't take it. He's stammering and muttering things Bi-Han can't understand while helplessly flailing his arms.

His father had been such a proud man once. To see him like this... useless and confused... It pains Bi-Han. His father deserves better than this, a dignified end.

He thinks of his mother. He thinks of Kuai Liang. If his father lives... Kuai Liang might die... And once his father's disease reaches its final stages, his father will die too. He will have no one left.

He cannot save his father. He can pull him out of the ice, but he cannot save him. All he would do is prolong his suffering.

Slowly, Bi-Han retrieves his hand.

The struggle doesn't take long. Within seconds, his father's head disappears, swallowed by the freezing water. The horrible gurgling noises he will never forget, die down, leaving only the howling of the wind to fill the silence.

He's still kneeling on the ice, shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright. His legs have long gone numb.

His shoulders shake, then his whole body jerks forward, almost as if hit by a sudden seizure. Then, finally, he sobs. Quietly at first, then, understanding he is alone, he sobs louder, tears streaming down his face, turning to snowflakes carried off by the wind. With no one left to tell him he needs to be strong, he finally mourns both his parents. The one that was taken from him and the one he let go.

To save his clan. To protect his brothers. It's the first time he ever allowed himself to cry. And it's also the last.

At the sight of his own tears, he feels ashamed. He had never cried in front of his brothers. He's the eldest, he has to be strong for them, always.

Something wet lands on his cheek, then on his lower lip... It feels like rain, but it cannot be, they're inside. Shakily, Bi-Han reaches up to wipe at his face, his eyes widening as he realizes the droplets are tears.

"Brother..." Kuai Liang takes a step towards him. "What have you done?"

"I showed him mercy", he whispers.

"Death isn't mercy, Bi-Han."

"If you had gone through what I went through, you'd think differently now."

Satisfied, he watches Kuai Liang's face fall and his shoulders slump. "I don't understand... You cried. You were... Why?"

"What did you expect?", Bi-Han taunts him. "That I'd stand over father's dead body, laughing? That I'd be as pleased with myself as you were when you left me to die?“

"Wait...", Tomáš interjects. "What do you mean?"

"Tell him, Kuai Liang."

Tomáš slowly turns to face their brother. "Kuai Liang, what does he mean?"

Kuai Liang's eyes dart back and forth between Tomáš and him. He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

"When I was under the influence of Havik's mind control, he wanted to leave me behind in the chaosrealm", Bi-Han responds in his stead. "Were it not for Sektor, Cyrax and the others..."

The confusion in Smoke's eyes turns into fury. "Is this true?"

"I-"

"He let father die", Kuai Liang stammers helplessly. "He scarred me. He banished us. He tried to kill me on my wedding day. I was angry. Can you blame me for that?"

"Two wrongs don't make a right. Even now, instead of apologizing, you try to justify it?" Tomáš shakes his head in disgust. "I left the Lin Kuei because I didn't want to follow a madman. Turns out, I was following one all along."

Bi-Han watches his brothers argue, but he feels nothing anymore. No triumph that Tomáš finally sees through Kuai Liang's facade. No anger at their betrayal. Only regret and an exhaustion so deep it almost physically hurts.

"Leave", he commands. "All of you. Get out!"

He gives that order as though he still has any authority, as though he is still grandmaster of his clan, not a hollow shell of who he once was. He doubts they will listen to him, but he can't even find it in himself to be angry about that anymore. He had been bedridden for weeks, Liu Kang's treatment draining him of every ounce of strength his body had possessed. The fire god had been careful, his healing magic probing around within the very depths of his being, trying to find the seams where his soul is still tethered to the chaos magic, separating them one by one, testing out the waters to see just how far he could go without killing him. It's humiliating, to be reduced to this, a mere lab rat for Liu Kang. Something broken that needs fixing. He's relieved that it's almost over.

Liu Kang and Geras don't oppose him. They retreat quietly, probably understanding that their work here is done. His brothers, however, show no intention of leaving.

"Brother, please." Kuai Liang takes another step towards him, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

Bi-Han slaps his hand away and shoots him a glare. "I said, leave."

He notices that Kuai Liang no longer looks at him with the same hatred. In fact, his brother almost looks... remorseful. How long had he waited to see this expression on Kuai Liang's face? To know that his brother regrets leaving him to die? That he still cares about him, despite the animosity between them... And yet it means nothing to Bi-Han now.

"I will find the Arctikan Hailstone", Kuai Liang says flalty. "I won't let you die."

Bi-Han says nothing in return.

"I'll come with you", Tomáš decides. "Someone has to make sure you keep your word this time."

Kuai Liang shakes his head. "Stay here with Bi-Han. I promise, I will bring the stone back. I will-"

"GET OUT!"

Bi-Han grabs the empty bowl of medicine next to his bed and hurls it at the wall. The porcelain shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces like a mocking image of his own existence.

-

"Impossible." Bi-Han grumbles as he tosses his hand of cards onto the table, reluctantly admitting defeat. "You won again."

Across from him, Tomáš grins. "I must be a natural at card games."

"That's highly unlikely."

"Are you saying I cheated?"

Bi-Han merely shrugs, leaving his question unanswered. He leans back to cough into the crook of his arm, frowning at the sight of the black spatters of blood dotting his skin. He quickly wipes them away before Tomáš can see them. His condition is worsening.

Three days had passed since he had revealed the truth to his brothers. Kuai Liang had left the same day to embark on a search for the Arctikan Hailstone. To save him, despite everything. Bi-Han still doesn't know how to feel about that. He's glad that Tomáš had stayed here with him. They had spent these past few days bonding, talking to each other and taking turns defeating each other at card games. Something inside both of them is healing now, he can tell.

"I wanted to thank you", Tomáš says after a while.

Bi-Han raises an eyebrow. "What for?"

"The scroll. I know you had Sektor send it to us." Tomáš smiles. "Our mage was able to recreate the potion. I've been taking it daily and I haven't had any nightmares since. So... Thank you. For looking out for me."

"If you mean to thank me, stop rigging the cards."

"Seriously, Bi-Han?" Tomáš grimaces, pretending to be offended. "I've done no such-"

"Bi-Han?"

At the mention of his name, he looks up to find Sareena standing over their table at the temple's library. She's hugging a small stack of books to her chest with one arm while extending the other one towards him with an envelope. "You have mail. Liu Kang asked me to give this to you."

A letter? Bi-Han immediately thinks of Sektor. Perhaps she had written back to him to let him know she did as he asked.

He takes the envelope out of Sareena's hand and frowns to see his name written on it in a handwriting he had never seen before. A little hesitantly, he opens it to take a look inside.

Before he can reach in to pull the letter out, something falls out of the envelope and lands at his feet.

At first, he believes it to be a piece of parchment, covered in blood.

Then he bends down to pick it up and recognizes a familiar motive drawn onto it.

A scorpion.

Not drawn. Tattooed.

It's not parchment. It's skin.

And branded into it is the shape of a bird's foot... The symbol of the Tengu clan.

Were he not dead, his heart would stop in that very moment.

"Kuai Liang!"

[onismdaydream]

tw: 18+ mdni. gn reader. anal fingering. mentions of toji's past abuse/upbringing. uncharacteristically soft for me. not proofread.

it's a rare thing, toji handing control over to you.

not that he doesn't trust you — he would place his life in your hands in a heartbeat, you know him far better than anyone else has ever come close to. he just feels safer when he's the one holding the reigns, no matter the situation. toji has spent too long around shady and shitty people that it's engrained in him to never let his guard down. let someone get the upper hand or be one step ahead of you and you're as good as dead.

but you...

you forced your way into toji's heart, kept pushing even when he pulled away, and carved your home in it. you made him learn to accept love, taught him that he deserves to love and be loved in return. showed him that there can be beauty in this cruel world.

though, he would never admit it — sincere and genuine expressions of emotions were still so foreign to him, but he was trying. there were other ways for him to show his affection, however. it would come in the form of his lips pressing against the top of your head when he thought you were asleep. his thumb rubbing circles on your hip when he held you close. his arm wrapping around your shoulder as you sat next to each other.

but there are moments when he felt more vulnerable, when he craves nothing more than your loving touch and sweet praise. he wants to deny those feelings, a nagging voice in the back of his mind that remind him of those days where he was forced to be on his own, thrown to the wolves without a care — inferior, weak, a mistake.

you're always there, though. always next to toji. always ready and willing and trying.

your touch is gentle where other's were not, soft and warm skin against his own, fingers tracing over the faint scars that litter his back. how he survived this long is a miracle. too many stupid and reckless decisions placing him in danger's way. you'd chastise him if you think it would make a difference. instead, you lean down, kissing down his spine and making him tense.

"'s okay, toji." he can feel your breath fanning against the small of his back, your fingers resting at his waistband. "i got you."

he's quieter when he's like this, almost as if he's afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he opens it. too in his own head.

and it's your job to get him out of there.

you take your time, admiring every inch of his body that you can reach as you strip him of his underwear. you don't want to rush this, wanting to savor each and every little reaction you pull out of toji. usually, all the attention was on you in the bedroom as he took you apart underneath him. you wanted to return the favor.

it's a simple rhythm you fall into with him. your fingers curl as you pump them in and out, a glossy sheen coating them and making the motion smooth. low groans and heavy breathing fill the space between the two of you, your sweet praise and compliments making toji's hips hump into the bed.

it doesn't take much longer for him to spill onto the sheets under him, a shudder working through his body as you pull your fingers out afterwards. he doesn't protest much as you wipe him down, letting you roll him over enough to clean his cum off his stomach.

he holds you close when you come back to him, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. his way of thanking you, of saying i love you.

and you smile softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

i love you, too.

[shini--chan]

Yandere Character Sheet I

1p Lithuania: Tolys Laurinaitis

A continuation of the Baltics hcs ask

Trigger warnings: kidnapping, controlling behaviour, poisoning, isolation, neglect, battery, mind games, murder

Attributes - What sort of Yandere is he/she?

First and foremost, he is possessive. During his whole life, Tolys has had to struggle to hold fast to what he considers his, with circumstances inflicting hardship after hardship on him, he has a vice grip on what he considers his. To him, you would be a person that he would have to keep safe from all the dangers of the world, and in turn, he would be a safe haven to him where he can be rid of his emotional baggage. And like any hot tip, he'll want to ensure that as few people as possible know of your existence, not even mentioning your virtues. Why should he have to share you with other people? After everything that he has endured, doesn't he deserve a person that he can consider wholly his own? 

In total, he is also frugal. Demands for expensive jewellery and exotic holidays will be met with raised eyebrows. Are you a golddigger? That would be the question that would come to mind. To him, life is more than material possessions, and it reflects in his lifestyle. If anything, you'll have to conform to his morals and way of life. Any compromises that you demand he participate in wouldn't be regarded well. Are you trying to manipulate him? Likewise, excessive flattery and unexpected gifts would be seen as you buttering up to him because you want something from him, not because you sincerely like him. Should you give him a present, the gesture would be appreciated more than the actual gift itself. 

This all is conjoined by his controlling tendencies. Tolys is not a controlling or domineering character in total, it isn't in his personality. Rather, the need from control stems from a need to ensure he isn't oppressed or used. By taking the reins in his hands and holding them in vice-grips, he would intend to prevent something like that ever happening again. On top of that, he would be so scared of you leaving. Looking for any warning signs and acting accordingly when they appear would help him in preventing you from leaving. Having you under his total control would give him reason to relax a bit - but even then it would never be fully, since he would constantly suspect that you think ill of him, and want to leave. It would just be a part of him that is never fully able to buy into true happiness. If everything is alright and dandy, then it is either just a facade or trouble is lurking around the corner.

Tolys would also be very connected with nature. Don't worry, it wouldn't be along the veins of the industrialised and overhyped nature fetish, but the sort where he could simply walk into the forest and live a somewhat comfortable life for the next few years. It would be a life he would love to share with you. With the cottage being deep in the woods, you wouldn't really have a chance to escape. Should you nevertheless contemplate running away, then he could scare you with stories of packs of wolves and hungry bears.

You would be dependent on him, since a life off the grid is hard and unfamiliar to modern humans. With all the tasks you would have to complete, you would have enough to distract you. The upkeep of the household would keep you busy, especially with the absence of a lot of electric appliances. It would also teach you that you can't survive without him and that you need each other. Providing acts of service would also be how he would show his "love" for you. You would have to get used to it, because, else he wouldn’t be really forthcoming when it comes to affection. Rarely would he give you heartfelt smiles, or words of affection, in part because he would have become reserved when it comes to such things over the years, and because he wouldn’t want to be viewed as soft or weak by you. In a way, he needs to be needed, because if he is useful to you, if you can’t live without him, then you can’t discard him and you’ll be forced to stay by his side.  

Cornering - How would they get you?

Tolys would know his desires and wants regarding you would be amoral, but he would find a thousand and one ways to justify his own vices to himself. Still, he would do the courting in a traditional way in the hopes of soothing his fears and obsessions. Flowers, dates at cool locations, doing sports together, winning and dining with you - all cutsey couple things meant to advertise his suitability to you and lure you in. The trap would spring when you would be in close enough; or in the case that you would try to leave him prematurely. 

Eitherway, it would be very cliche - drugging you and then bringing you to a secondary location, or breaking and entering and tieing you up. Should you make him angry, then he would stage the whole affair in a way that would make you think he is a serial killer: Ski-mask and daggers and hateful words - he would leave you awake and aware for the whole ride, maybe even dragging you out the car by your hair once you arrive at your new home. 

Expectations - What do they expect of you?

He would want you to idolise him. Above everything else, he would yearn for somebody that would see him as their personal hero, and he would do a lot to create such an image in your mind. This would be part of the courting phase, where he would do his best to show off all his skills, and also have a few third parties brag about his achievements to you. Afterwards, the need for this would grow all the more - he would want you to cling to him at night, to seek his approval in the most minor matter (but still be a person with independence and agency). It would tie in to the fact that he would desire you to be needy. Oh, sometimes he would wish to have alone time, but distance makes the heart grow fonder, and it would stroke his ego immensely to have you throw yourself in his arms when he comes back to you. 

A person with his levels of introvertedness and vulnerability would also be an important requirement. The only person you should confide in, the only person you should trust, should be him. You should be closed off to the rest of the world, and only in him find a person that you can confide in. He, Tolys Laurinaitis, should be the only person around whom you discard all your masks and show your true colours. That should be an honour that is reserved for him and him alone. 

Along the same vein, he would require you to be honest with him. Now, there are people that go through life saying nothing but the truth while still being deceitful. That is something that he would loath - you’re to be open with him, communicative and honest. It would also be in your best interest - without him second guessing all your words, his paranoia would flare up less often. You wouldn’t have to bat away accusation after accusation, and life would generally be easier. Heavens, he would prefer it if you would say you hate him to his face instead of plastering false smiles on your face while holding a knife behind your back. Honesty would make it easier for him to adjust his treatment to you, and he wouldn’t suffer the feeling of walking on eggshells around you. 

Furthermore, he would expect a certain degree of humility from you. This would make living with you a pleasant affair for both of you. The last thing he would want to do would be having to cater to excessive demands - it would make him feel like a butler, or a cash cow. Additionally, it would make guilt-tripping you easier, and result in less fuss once he squirrels you away. It would also lead to you being more open-minded, and more inclined to view him in a sympathetic light once he tells you the tragedy of his life. Though, with all this being said, the humility you present would have to go in the direction of self-sacrificing altruism to be the most attractive. 

Be resourceful, and your esteem would rise in his eyes. Little is more annoying than these modern types that need a special tool for every task. It would certainly be a beneficial trait to have, since you’ll wind up living in the middle of nowhere. This would also be a sign of reliability and agency in his eyes, and an assurance that he wouldn’t be courting a child. 

Faded - Would they let go of you in any way?

It goes without much elaboration that he would be very unwilling to let you go, and would construct circumstances so that it isn’t really possible for you to leave. That being said, one way that he might be forced to relinquish you would be if he grows too weak to keep you and somebody else swoops in to snatch you away. Tolys would vow to retrieve you, but the question would be if that would be feasible in the first place. Time weakens bonds. Out of sight is out of mind. With enough time, his obsession could fade. 

A similar principal would apply if you’d die or successfully escape and evade him for long enough. Though, you would have to avoid detection for a very long time. To him, you would be a source of happiness and purpose, without which he would teeter close to nihilism. As such, he would invest a lot of time and energy in retrieving you. You’d have to serve up another chew toy to keep him busy and keep his mind off of you. 

On that note, he would also be willing to allow you more freedom and time away from him if it is in the name of duty. Perhaps you’ve devoted your life to educating children, or have found your calling as an author and have to bring your scripts to the publishing house every now and then. Anything that is in service to the community and is important will be embraced by him and he’ll enter comprises for you for that sake. Watch out though - any ego-driven endeavours will never receive his blessing, and he would be quick to remove you from them. I.e - that YouTube channel is quickly going to go on permanent hiatus unless you can argue you’re doing it to educate the masses and not for clicks. 

Punishment - How would they proceed if you do something they disapprove of?

He tries to be mild with you, really he does his best to do that. So, his first punishments would be constructed in ways that wouldn’t even register as punishments to either of you. Guilt tripping, gaslighting and neglect - and it would all be played in ways that would leave room for him to claim that he is innocent as a lamb. He would spill tears and roll out sob stories to make you feel guilty for perfectly normal acts, would give statements that would contradict your memories and make you doubt reality, and would leave you to do the chores around the house. In case you two already live in the woods in an isolated cottage, he would offload all the chores on to you as a punishment, and then watch you struggle. When it is just the two of you, like that, he’ll be more bolder and open about his punishments, since there is nobody you can run to, nobody to reprimand him for his less than ethical actions. 

Punishments can also have much more concrete forms, mind you. Such as him giving you something to eat or drink and then telling you it was poisoned. He’d derive schadenfreude from watching the panic unfold, and from listening to your pleas. He’ll squeeze a few concessions out of you, or turn the whole affair into an interrogation, and when he has what he wants, he will reveal it to be a farce. On the rare occasion it might even really be poison, and he’ll wait until the symptoms set in, and let you suffer a bit and then give you the antidote. 

Or he would dress you in armour, and tie you up, and use you for target practice - bow and arrow, crossbow or spear. That, or he would beat you up a bit with a dulled sword. You’d sport some pretty impressive bruising afterwards. 

Aside from that, you would really be dependent on him, and at times he would make that very clear to you through neglecting you. There would be no running water and he would leave the cottage on a hunting trip, or he would lock the shed containing the firewood and leave. Of course, he could go the traditional route and just subject you to solitary confinement for a week or two. The silent treatment would also be an option here. 

Reaction - How would they react to you escaping?

He would be more worried about you than angry, at least a first. Fragile, vulnerable you, stumbling through the forest with all those wild creatures. What if you trip and sprain your ankle? What if you fall down a steep slope and break bones? What if… what if? Constant worries and horror scenarios would be circling around in his head. He would resort to pacing, at some point wearing either the carpet or his shoes through. 

However, he wouldn’t go after you unless you’ve been gone for three days already. You see, the aim of this game would be to teach you a lesson, with the lesson in mind being that you can’t survive without him. Only he would know the way back to human civilization, so you would be lost without him, both in a literal and a metaphorical sense. Soon enough, you would come to realise that and return to him, with you fleeing the quaint shared life no longer being an issue. 

Still, the longer you would be absent, the more worry would morph into anger, with his thoughts about you becoming more dark and malicious with each passing hour. God forbid he would have to go out to retrieve you - any ailments causing you misery would be left untreated, provided that they are not fatal, with him even exacerbating them if he would feel especially wicked. 

That is only talking about how things would be if you are in his complete control. Should you elude him during the courting stage, then he would still view it as an escape. The problem here for him would be that he couldn’t make too much of a ruckus, and he would know this. Maybe he would try stalking you over social media, or tracking you through your phone. Perhaps he has people that would willingly come forth with your whereabouts and doings, or spill the beans with a little encouragement. 

Turnabout - Scenario: You have the upper hand? What would be different from their usual MO?

Not well, not well at all - as mentioned above, he needs to be in control of the relationship for his own personal comfort. You taking the steering wheel in your hands would be a big, fat red line in his books. He would do anything in his power to prevent it, even going as far as to mutilate you and kill people in front of you to get the point across and make you back down. 

Should all that be in vain, then he would resort to malicious disobedience. The tables would also be turned as soon as possible, and he would use every opportunity to make your tenure as his master/mistress as unpleasant as possible. Food would be over-, or undercooked, oversalted or the wrong spices/ingredients would be used. The living quarters would eb half-heartedly cleaned, and any technology that you’d possess would malfunction frequently. To be especially petty, he would take some things you would tell him too literally, and cause problems that way. Perhaps he would be even further, and leave glass shards lying around, or attempt to smother you in your sleep with a pillow. 

Don’t think that removing him from your life would fix this problem, because he would still find ways to harass you. The more you would ignore him, the more extreme his actions would get, ranging from insistent text messages to sending letter bombs and framing you for murder. Tolys would somehow commit all these acts in ways that would ensure that law enforcement wouldn’t convict him, but that you would know it is him. 

Vengeance - What would they do in the face of competition?

Lithuania’s solution is either removing you from the scene or the third party. In the case of the former, he would cook up an excuse to take you away. These could range from more innocent ones like saying he was to talk to you in private to sending you away to a different country to straight up threatening you to make you remove yourself from the scene. It would depend on your willingness to be in a relationship with him and at what stage your relationship is. 

In the case of the latter - either one of two extremes: mild reproachments or physical violence. Leaving it at that there. 

Art doesn't belong to me, nor does the character!

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

The Case of the Missing Lifeguard

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 3.9K

warnings: cursing, sexual innuendos, byers and steve fighting (so sorry). should be all!

summary: more russian decoding

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story-

look i know i said byers and steve would be happy and in love this season. and they are, but of course byers has common sense and doesnt want to deal with this shit for a third year. TOO MUCH TRAMUA ALREADY!

@alecmores​ my lovely editor and friend💕

series masterlist / steve harrington

previous chapter  next chapter

The ringing wouldn’t stop.

Well, it would for about a minute before blaring its noise again then stopped and the cycle repeated until someone picked up. This routine happened three times before it was cut off and you faintly heard someone talking.

You readjusted your head as you tried to slip back into a deep sleep. Your back felt warm and scratchy. A nice weight was thrown over your waist and a slight touch to your stomach that twitches every time you took a breath. You pulled Steve’s arm tighter as you shuffled closer to his chest. You heard his intake of air as his nose rubbed over your neck.

“Stop…” he trailed off in his groggy voice. A sleepy smile tugged the corners of your lips, eyes still closed. “Sorry,” you mumbled as you finally got comfortable again.

You didn’t have to work until later this afternoon as you were happy to take full advantage of sleeping in and have Steve all to yourself until work looms over your freedom. Skin to skin, legs tangled beneath the sheets, your hands interlocked over your stomach… this was happiness.

Sadly, happiness always comes to an end in Hawkins. In this case, the knocking at your door and the voice of Jonathan on the other side calling your name made you groan as you squeezed your eyes in frustration. Steve’s puff of air hitting your neck also shows his discontent at being bothered by your brother this morning.

“What?” You yelled aloud, voice pointed away from the door with your sleeping position.

“Is Steve there?” His voice was muffled. “Yes,” Steve gave a simple yelp.

“Are you both dressed?” “No! What do you-”

“Mr. Harrington is on the phone. So I suggest some pants, Steve.” A simple knock on the door before you heard Jonathan’s footsteps falling away.

You felt Steve’s arm tense at the mention of his dad and could feel the shift in his attitude. With another sigh, he reluctantly pulled away from you and went to one of the drawers in your dresser that held a collection of items Steve brought from home or clothes you found at the thrift. He pulled a pair of black sweatpants over his boxers and a simple oversized band tee.

“Looking sexy,” your morning voice rasped. You saw the shake of Steve’s shoulders and the shake to his head, “shut up,” he grumbled. He set a knee into your mattress and leaned down to press his lips to the side of your head. You hummed at the affection and peered at him when he pulled away, “one more?” you questioned with a pout to your lips.

“How can I say no to you?” He whispered before swooping low. It was a simple press, nothing hot and heavy like last night. You just knew Steve needed something sweet before talking with his father who he hasn’t heard from in almost two months, only his mother calling every few days at night.

“Wish me luck,” Steve mumbled as he left your room.

You waited about two minutes before sighing as you pushed yourself off your slept-in bed. With the weather warm in the summer you’ve been wearing nightgowns to bed, allowing you to feel your periodic fantasy. You slipped a yellow gown over your body, ruffles at the shoulders and collar with embroidered flowers detailing the top. Everyone makes granny jokes when they spot your flowy gown.

As you stepped into the hallway, just a foot past the threshold, you could hear Steve as he spoke to his father. Sighs and hums with a grunt here or there before you hear a weak “yes sir” and the phone being hung up. You leaned further out and saw Steve leaning against the wall with a hand on his hip with the other running through his bedhead. He looked stressed.

With bare feet, you walked the short distance from your room to the kitchen. Feet stopping you immediately in front of Steve who had his eyes closed and lips downturned. Fingers curled into the cotton fabric of his oversized shirt and gave a gentle tug for his attention.  Steve’s hands immediately settle over yours, his fingers rubbing over your wrist as his dimmed eyes look back at you.

“Oh, Stevie.” You cooed at the shadow over his features. Just a simple phone call with his father caused all joy to wash away, it was Mr. Harrington’s superpower, which made him the villain in Steve’s story.

Steve huffed, “says he wants me home for a little before work and then, get this,” you raised your brows as you listened intently to Steve, “says we’re going out tonight as a family to some fancy place outside the city.”

You rolled your lips, “at least you’ll get a free dinner.” You tried to make him laugh or something. Steve gave a snort and a tiny smile, a win in your books.

The both of you stayed in your spots, not bothering to move a muscle. Steve’s hands left your wrist to then hold you by your hips and pull you closer, chest flushed to his. You set your chin against his clavicle and looked up with wide eyes.

“How long are they back for?” “Just the night.” His voice was so tired just from three words. You couldn’t suppress the eye roll. Of course, they were only here for the night before heading out somewhere far away from their only son. You felt Steve’s chuckle and heard the single noise, at least you could make him happy again with the show of annoyance towards his parents.

“I wish I could keep you forever.” The words just flowed from your mouth. Steve’s eyebrows rose a bit, “I think that would be considered kidnapping, but I’ll happily be your hostage for life.” Your teeth were on full display with the wide smile, “Stockholm syndrome love.”

“You guys are gross.” Both your heads whipped to the new voice. Jonathan leaned against the hallway with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Just jealous your Nancy Drew isn’t here.” You teased your moping brother. Jonathan rolled his eyes at you and walked into the kitchen.

You pulled Steve’s hands away from your body and he frowned a bit at the action, but you tugged him behind you and towards the couch. You were suddenly reminded of yesterday and what was probably Dustin and Robin eagerly waiting for the both of you to arrive at work so the four of you could crack the Russian mystery code. You still didn’t want to get involved in any way, but with people you cared about doing this you couldn’t just back out and leave them hanging dry. You would push away your anxiety and nagging. Plus it was just figuring out what they were doing in Hawkins, you’ll bring the information to Hopper once you know.

“Steve… I’ll be by your side during this… investigation. I still don’t like us getting involved, but like you said, it’s nothing crazy. Also, we go to Hopper once we have enough information for him to relay to… higher government officials.” You looked deep into his eyes making sure he was understanding each letter. You find the Russians then tell Hopper. Not doing anything stupid after.

Steve licked his lips, “Okay, yeah that… that’s good. Perfectly good. I’m sure Dustin will understand, even though he wants to be an American hero.”

You pressed a finger to his chest, “Don’t act like that wasn’t your first thought when Dustin brought up the tape. I saw the look in your eyes. We’ve been American heroes for two years, just hidden in the dark.”

Steve glanced towards the living room windows. Fully in tack and in need of cleaning. You touched a hand to his cheek facing away from you and pushed his attention back to you.

“Steve, I hope you understand the worry I’m pushing away for you. I could fully ignore this, but I won’t cause the thought of you or Dustin or Robin being hurt in any way when I could have been there… just don’t misplace my trust in you.” You let your thumb rub his cheek.

His brows downturned just a bit and his eyes softened into doe eyes, “I won’t. I promise. And I’ll be there to protect you and everyone if something happens.”

“You need to stop putting your life on the line.” You pleaded. Steve didn’t say anything, his eyes just buzzing about. He moved his fingers to circle your wrist, “I’ll always put myself in front of danger if it keeps everyone else, especially you, safe.”

You closed your eyes with a pout and leaned your forehead into his. The two of you didn’t say anything else, just wallowing in the words that were exchanged.

Stupid fucking Russians.

-

An hour into your shift is when Erica and her friends make their presence known.

You were busy in the backroom. Cleaning, sweeping, inventory, hiding in the ice box so you could avoid people letting their anger out on you. Robin said she could handle manning the front on her own, but hearing the service bell ringing nonstop, you felt lied to. Bracing for impact, you pushed the metal door open and threw the sliding divider open to see Robin wearing headphones with her eyes focused on a book. You gave a shove to her shoulder to pull her back to work. Her brows furrowed and she moved the headphones off her ear and around her neck.

“What?” Acting like she was doing the one thing she wasn’t supposed to be doing while out front. Your brows shot up and you pointed a finger behind her which prompted her to turn and lean against the counter.

Erica gave a smug smile to both of you before opening her mouth. “I’d like to try the peanut butter chocolate swirl, please.” Giving the act of innocence to any passersby.

“No.” You were putting your foot down, “No more samples today.” Leaning your upper body on the countertop.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re abusing our company policy.” Robin pointed out. Erica just rolled her eyes before getting a bit defensive, “Where’s the sailor man?”

“Sorry, he can’t help you. He’s busy.” Robin replied with a smile as she turned her back to the counter. “Busy with what?” Erica was always persistent.

Robin shot you a look before turning around again, and you could hear a smugness in her voice as she said one word. “Spy craft.” Like that would explain everything to a ten-year-old and her friends. You would have chosen the word, numskulls, but to each their own.

When Dustin arrived at the shop he instantly whisked Steve away and you had to bite your tongue. You were going to be a supporting friend and girlfriend no matter how much the circumstances made your skin itch. Dustin was rambling about something to do with the Russians as Steve did a quick look over his shoulder at you, and you just gave a tight-lipped smile and a simple nod.

“Robin, can you please not wear the headphones when behind the counter? Please, just be a little professional today.” There was a slight edge to your voice. You were getting stressed and when you got stressed you got… Well, Jonathan calls you ‘bitchzilla’.

You noticed how Robin’s bright blue eyes swept over your face, how the front of her brows pinched in the middle. Even a downturn to her lips changed her freckle-splattered face into one of worry.

“Everything okay in lovey-dovey land?” She went for teasing to get answers. And you were trying to see how much pushing she could do before you spilled like a running waterfall.

You sighed with your shoulders held high from tension, “Perfectly fine. Exceptionally fine. Probably just my period and stress being mixed.” Your eyes stayed fixed on the counter as you drew a figure eight over and over.

Robin’s hand landed over yours and it forced you to look at her. “Yeah, I’m not buying this bullshit. What’d lover boy do? Need me to beat him up? Need Eddie to beat him up?”

That pulled a laugh from you. “No, no. He doesn’t need to be beaten up, plus I would do it if needed.” Giving her a knowing look, remembering Billy last year. “I- I just…” Your tongue licked the corner of your lip, “I don’t like us getting involved with this Russian business.” The real answer was said aloud.

“Why?” Robin’s question instantly. You looked at her like she grew two heads at once. “Why?! What do you mean why? It’s dangerous!” How come you were the only one seeing this clearly?

She shrugged her shoulders, “it’s just figuring out the coded message. Nothing crazy and we probably won’t even run into any Russians.”

You wanted to tug at your hair. You haven’t told Robin of the Upside Down or the demogorgons or El. She doesn’t understand the full severity this situation could lead to. Nothing has been normal for two years in Hawkins, and yeah, Russians are more of a government concern. But the Upside Down was also caused by the government. They are always up to something.

“You know what, fine. Continue decoding the message and I’ll continue coming off as the overdramatic friend worried for your safety. Enjoy your book, Robin.” You pushed away from the counter, ignoring Robin’s call of your name. You walked back into the freezer and screamed even though you were sure it wasn’t soundproof.

-

“Have a good day.”

The elderly couple left holding hands and you drank up their love for each other. The tables and booths were empty and wiped down multiple times since you needed a mindless activity. You could hear Robin muttering to herself behind the divider and you tried to block her out and focus on the pop music playing from the speakers. While the music wasn’t loud enough, the knocking on the back door certainly was.

You pulled the window open and Robin didn’t pay you any mind. “Could you get the door? Or would you like to man the front?” Robotic monotone. She cocked her head to the left and hopped off the counter to the door.

You saw it was a delivery person and turned back around. You once again wiped the ice cream counter out of sheer boredom. Your eyes drifted up and were met with Dustin and Steve’s disappointed faces. You cocked a hip and set a hand to the bone, “How was the spy craft?” full sarcasm.

“Oh, you’re not gonna believe who Dustin thought was a Russian.” Steve scoffed and shook his head. “You did too,” Dustin tried to defend himself. “No, I did not.” And you heard his voice and he thought the same thing. The two continued bickering about someone as you heard the swinging door being pushed open and saw Robin dashing out of the store into the mall. The three of you shared a look before Steve and Dustin ran after her.

“Guys!” You yelled after them. You may dislike your job, but you weren’t gonna leave it abandoned. So you huffed as you were left in the dark until they came back with some revolutionary news.

It wasn’t until twenty minutes later that they came back. Robin had a spark in her eyes and she couldn’t stop smiling. Dustin and Steve were behind her and both looked just as pleased. They didn’t even stop to say anything, just walked into the backroom and sat at the table. They were starting to piss you off. You continued serving ice cream and cleaning tables until you got your fifteen-minute break.

You leaned on the counter as you called threw the divider, “Steve, work the front. I’m going on break.” And your voice held no room for arguing. Which prompted Steve to jump from his seat and rush to your side.

“Baby-” “Just let me have my fifteen and I’ll be back to my winning personality.” More sarcasm to deflect. You threw your sailor hat down and started towards the entrance until you felt Steve wrap his fingers around your wrist and tug you back. You narrowed your eyes as he peered down at you.

“Steve-” “Robin cracked the code. Again.”

You just shook your head, “Okay, so…” you trialed off waiting for more. Steve licked his lips as he quickly looked around the empty parlor then his eyes were back on you. He leaned closer and lowered his voice, “The Russians are using the mall as a base of operations.”

Your brows ticked, “I thought we already knew that because you heard the song.”

Steve’s eyes darted around, “Well, yeah. But, we now know they are using the delivery company for something.”

You gave a slow head nod. You looked over your shoulder then back to Steve, “Okay, great. Can I take my fifteen now?” Your tone lightened up but you could still see a bit of hurt in Steve’s eyes as he slowly let you free. You rushed past the crowd of shoppers and went to sit outside and just people-watch. Distract yourself from the panic growing cause you know they won’t stop at this. Dustin is always nosey and Robin falls into that same category without intention at times. And Steve just kept playing the hero.

You hunched over your legs with your head bowed, hair blocking the beaming sun from your eyes. Knee bouncing in a fast rhythm as your fingers curled tight around the cement blocks you were sitting on.

“Stupid fucking Russians.”

-

“Wish I could join you.” 

“Oh, trust me. You don’t. After only two minutes I’ll have to restrain myself from stabbing my ears.”

Hands intertwined and resting on your thigh, Steve drove the two of you back to your house. You pushed earlier away from your thoughts and just focused on Steve who would have to be with his parents for the night. You only wish you could join him so you could be his human shield from the scrutiny of his father.

“If you see anything I like, could you maybe get it and bring it tomorrow for lunch?” Head turned on the leather of the seat to stare at Steve’s profile.

He tilted his head, “We’ll see.” He’ll bring you food tomorrow.

You dragged the pad of your index finger over Steve’s knuckles, head lost in thought. Your attitude from earlier nagging at your brain. You were being a bitch, but for a good reason.

“I’m sorry… about earlier, at work.” Eyes looking up from your downturned head.

Steve took his eyes off the road for a second then back, “It’s okay. I know it's from a place of worry.” He pressed a kiss to your skin.

His headlights beamed onto your dark house, no one’s cars out front. You grabbed your backpack from the floor and held it in your lap. You leaned over the console and gave Steve a sweet good night kiss to his lips and then pulled away to give one more to his nose, your second favorite place to kiss.

“Ignore your parents. Just think of something you’d rather be doing while at dinner.”

Steve’s eyes crinkled and a devilish smirk popped up. You rolled your lips. “Oh, I think you know what I’d rather be doing.”

You scoffed as you pushed the door open, “Get out of here, perv.” Jokes to hide the ache forming in your stomach.

You sent Steve off with a wave when you opened the door and saw him reversing out the driveway. Once the door was closed you heard the clap of thunder and the fast thudding of rain pelting on the roof. You headed to your room to change before going to the kitchen. You heated up one of the frozen dinner meals and sat in front of the TV.

While you were engrossed with the new episode of Moonlighting, a loud pounding on the front door gave you a heart attack. Setting a hand to your heart to wait to see if it could come again and it did, then it was followed by voices shouting over the rain. You pushed off the couch and headed to the door where you could hear the voices a bit better. You threw it open and were greeted by two soaked teenage boys.

“What are you guys doing here?” Leaning against the door.

“Is Will home?” Lucas asked. You looked between the two, “No. Why? What happened?”

They exchanged looks before Lucas spoke again. “Will got mad at us and rode away earlier.”

You straightened up and took a step closer, “What did you two assholes do?”

“Nothing!” Mike cried. “Bullshit! Will takes a lot from you guys, so what did you do?”

Mike groaned, “He said it was supposed to be a day free of girls and we would play Dungeons and Dragons. But we were goofing around and not taking it seriously and I’m still upset about El-”

“What’d El do?” A sudden detour. “She dumped his ass,” Lucas answered. You hummed, “Good for her. Now continue.”

Mike rolled his eyes, “Will and I got in a fight in my garage and then he took off.”

You were simmering with anger. “Go home. Both of you!” And you slammed the door in their faces.

You checked his room, but he wasn’t there. So, you checked the next place he could be if he came home without your knowledge. Throwing on a raincoat you headed to Castle Byers.

As you got closer you could hear noises when the thunder stopped. There was yelling and the sound of something being hit repeatedly. Your steps quickened and your heart broke at the sight lit up by the lighting.

Will sat in the mud outside the broken-down fort. His back was hunched and his shoulders were shaking with cries that you wished to never hear again. You took slow steps and called his name a few times before he looked up. His face was scrunched in agony as he heaved cries over and over. You fell to your knees and pulled him into your chest, one hand holding the back of his head while the other rubbed his shoulder blades. Will’s arms snaked under your coat and wrapped tight around your waist, his fingers curling into your shirt.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Will. I’m here.” You cooed into his ear. Tears bubbled to the surface and when they fell they mixed with the rainwater.

“Ever- Everything has- has changed.” Will hiccuped. “It’s- It’s not fair!”

“I know. I know it isn’t.” You petted his hair. “I wish things could be different.”

“Stupid. So stupid!” Another cry of pain.

You wish you could fix everything with the snap of your fingers like comic heroes. But all you could do was be there for Will and console him through his anguish.

Will’s crying slowed down, and his arms loosened. You kept your hold on his and continued the repetitive petting of his slick hair. Then you felt him tense and he pulled away from your hold, eyes looking around the dark forest.

“Will?” He raised a hand to the back of his neck and turned his back on you.

“Will! Will, you okay?” You heard voices coming your way. Lucas and Mike emerged from the darkness. You just narrowed your eyes.

The three of you focused your attention on Will who was wide-eyed and shivering. His arm dropped to his side and it was like he was seeing everyone for the first time tonight.

“Will?” You held his shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

He looked from you to the two boys then back to you.

“He’s back.” He shuddered.

...

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*STRIKED OUT MEANS TUMBLR CANT FIND YOUR USERNAME*

[bluepastels29]

Skye (Numbuh 7) Ref sheet

Name

Skye Dickson

Nickname(s)

Sky Queen (Numbuh 2), Wingnut (Numbuh 86), Robo-expert (herself)

Age

(Gen 1) 11

(Gen 2) 14

(Gen 3) 27

Gender

Female

Sexuality

Bisexual

Personality

Humorous, carefree, and sarcastic, Skye likes to crack jokes at any given moment to keep the mood lightened (much to her most of her sector's annoyance). She loves messing around with the adults and teenagers when fighting them, watching them fall for her tricks and small traps she leaves behind. Having an IQ of 140, Skye is quick to thinking up plans both for fighting and inventing. She can be cocky at times to where it gets the best of her and can easily catch her off guard. Whenever she feels down or stressed, she quickly masks it with her usual joking self and bottles up her feelings rather than talk to someone. She can be very protective of her friends and family, immediately jumping in to defend them of any danger.

Strengths

Very sneaky when leaving traps such as mini paint bombs, trip wires, and marbles behind during a battle A quick thinker for being in tight time situations Is talented for inventing weapons and uses them to fight and help her teamIs very optimistic and it's hard to wipe off her smile. She knows how to motivate her team after a failed mission to get then in higher spiritsHer main combat style is air battles and can be a huge advantage for those who don't have any 2x4 air tech on themHer weredog form makes her weigh 180lbs more so it's easier to pin someone down or throw a powerful hit

Weaknesses

Skye sometimes has trouble controlling her anger which can end to really hurting someone or herselfSkye tends to bottle up her emotions and mask it with her usual happy attitude until she eventually breaks down.Can get too cocky when competing or just showing off and can be blind to everything around her from focusing too hard on her goalHer anxiety causes her to easily get overwhelmed and get in the way of finishing thingsSkye works best at night so she most likely stays up til dawn or up to a few days working on projects and making her act loopy and clumsy from tiredness

KND OPERATIVE INFO

Numbuh

Numbuh 7

Occupation

2x4 tech officer

Global Pilot

Weapon

Mostly anything she invents

Sector

Sector V (formerly)

Moonbase

Combat(1-10)

7-10

Intelligence(1-10)

10-10

Bravery(1-10)

8-10

Communication(1-10)

9-10

Other abilities

When going into her weredog form, she is more agile and quick and has big paws to strike and pin someone down Is talented at air battles but gets a bit carried away with ariel stuntsVery agile in the air and uses her J.E.T.A.B.O.O.T.S to her advantage Uses her surroundings to help with her hand-to-hand combat and to plan getaways

-RELATIONSHIPS-

Family

Amelia Dickson/Mega Mom- She doesn't remember much of her mom during her time at the orphanage but heard from Chad and Brynlee that she can go a bit overboard when giving her kids affection and can be downright embarrassing when attending school plays,sports games, or around their friends. She found her to be pretty strict when it comes to school grades and keeping the house clean but overtime she started to step back a little when the sibs are in their mid teens.

Arthur Dickson/Destructo Dad- Her Dad is known as the fun parent who cracks a lot of Dad jokes, which Skye loves to join in on. She secretly gets along more with him than her mom and finds out they both act almost alike. Skye loves that she has a parent to talk to and be herself around (and to have a test subject for a few inventions)

Benjamin Beaumont- Its still a mystery for Skye never hearing about her uncle and only knows that he's mom's twin brother. Whenever Skye mentions him, Amelia instantly changes the subject or starts to get angry but either way it was weird. She asked her dad about it and he hesitantly mentions that Benjamin is a hermited inventor and that Ben and Amelia got into a huge fight when they were teens during their parents divorce and haven't spoke since. Nobody knows his whereabouts but assumes he still lives in France where he was born.

Chad Dickson- During when her memory of him was wiped, Skye saw Chad as an enemy and a traitor like everyone else in the KND. She would pull as many pranks on him when she got the chance, especially during the times she visited Brynlee. When getting her memories back, she instantly felt horrible and guilty for the way she treated her older brother and tried to find ways to make it up to him until he instantly forgave her. Their the type of siblings to constantly mess with each other and try to annoy the other (which Skye doesn't most of). They can count on each other whenever one of them gets into trouble and not to rat each other out to their parents. Chad is known to get overworked so Skye is the one to pry him away from studies or missions and make him take care of himself, same with Skye and staying up working on projects.

•Brynlee Dickson- Even when losing her memories, the two instantly got along when reuniting in cadet training. Skye always begged Numbuh 1 to arrange both sectors to go on missions together, but unfortunately that's only for emergencies. When regaining their memories, they became even more inseparable and started taking back the time they were apart and filling it with more positive memories. Out of the two, Skye seems to be the most protective and sometimes even turning into a mother hen whenever Bryn gets injured during a mission or dealing with jerks. Like most twins, they know what the other is feeling and is in danger, also can unintentionally speak in unison.

Jet Dickson- Skye and Jet have been through a lot together and sadly know more about each other than their siblings. They can also be the type of siblings to bicker and get on each other's nerves but almost instantly make up like nothing happened. They both have ptsd from the orphanage with Jet having severe paranoia, so when something is triggered, they know how to calm the other down. They can sometimes get into dramatic arguments over the smallest things, but its mostly fake and do it just to be funny.

Friends/Allies

Numbuh 1/Nigel- Skye respects him as a leader and a sectormate. She admires his loyalty to the KND and his team, and knows to always count on him. Whenever they are the only two at the tree house or on a mission together, they usually go to the moonbase to hang out especially on meatball sub wensday. Sometimes people assume that their dating at first sight, but unfortunately Skye has feelings for Numbuh 2 and Nigel being with Lizzy (before the series ends)

Numbuh 3- Despite the two having opposite personalities, they still got along really well. Skye doesn't mind playing tea parties with her but will only fill in if someone else won't to not hurt her feelings. Unlike Numbuh 4, Skye never acts rude around her or call her interests "cruddy" or "stupid" and instead tries to like things she likes to give them a chance and vice versa.

Numbuh 4- Skye is basically his partner in crime right next to Numbuh 2. They like causing trouble together and plan pranks on adults and teenagers. They work very well together in missions despite they usually attack first before planning. She usually forgets to think before acting when around him and becomes reckless and a lot more rowdy.

Numbuh 5- Skye knows to come to her when she wants to chill out. She enjoys going on candy hunts and bringing back truck loads of candy for the team. At times they can get competitive with each other and have friendly challenges such as finding out who can eat more candy under a minute or a soda chugging challenge. They also share a similar incident involving weredogs have been bitten by one.

Numbuh 60- Skye respects him as a higher rank than she is but also wants him to lighten up a little and drags him to have fun with either her siblings or with her sector. They are opposites between strict and workaholic to fun and laid-back which is why Skye usually gets on his nerves. Patton use to be awkward on dates with Brynlee and had Skye as a secret wing-girl until he got more confident with dating.

Numbuh 362- Highly looks up to her as the soopreme leader and greatly admires her leadership. When Rachel also started dating Brynlee, Skye was shocked at first but was really happy and supportive about the news.

Numbuh 86- Skye has a record for the times Fanny screamed her ears off for damaging global airships or crashing them into the moonbase. Skye gets on her bad side without meaning to, so she's one of the very few girls Numbuh 86 yells at. However, they got a chance to bond at Fanny's slumber party and officially became friends.

Antonio Fizzuras/ Ace the kid- Skye was a bit standoffish towards him from hearing about shooting down Numbuh 2's aircraft and disliked it whenever he was flirting with Numbuh 3. They became huge rivals and Ace seems to get Skye furious enough to want to challenge him to air battles. It takes a while for Skye to eventually start to warm up to him but they still remain extremely competitive with each other.

Dustin Rosewood- She became fond of Dustin when Chad introduced him as his boyfriend and thinks him and her brother make a good match. She loves how his cheerfulness is contagious and knows it makes Chad the happiest out of them. Skye also loves to make jokes about them followed by a few mature ones to annoy the hell out of Chad while Dustin hides his face in his hoodie.

Justin Cavallero- Use to see him as an enemy for being a teen ninja and despised him after finding out he was using Chad while they were dating. When he and Chad got back together and now in a poly relationship with Dustin, it took Skye a couple of months to fully trust him.

Enemies

Madame Rouge- Skye will forever hate her for separating her family and leaving scars on her and Jet. She sees Rouge as nothing but a heartless monster for her time at the orphanage, having severe ptsd whenever going near the place despite it now being abandoned.

•Natalie Keller- Skye saw her as a big nuisance during cadet training and picked a fight whenever Brynlee was being bullied by her. Was determined to score a higher rank than her to prove herself.

•Jacob/Numbuh 211- Skye always gets furious whenever she sees him, wanting to wipe the smug look on his face when bullying her sister and Sector V. She feels the need to defend those who ever interact with him, feeling a bit on edge.

Love Interest(s)

Numbuh 2- Due to her huge crush on the flyboy, Skye is usually more loving towards him and will occasionally flirt by using pick up lines when no one else is around. The two share a love for jokes and aircraft, and usually go out for chilidogs. She loves his charming and kind nature and the fact that he easily makes her laugh. Although he tries to charm up other girls, She can thank Numbuh 5 for literally smacking him out of it. They love collaborating with each other when working on machines to test them out.

BIO

On the night of her and her sister's 5th birthday, Skye along with her 3 year old brother, Jet, were taken from their house and woke up in what they were told was an orphanage, which was named Forever Home, with no memories of their family or even their last names. The lady who was running the place was named Rouge Adderson but strictly wanted to be addressed as Madame Rouge and lied to the two siblings informing that their parents were reported to have died and will now be residing at Forever Home until the age of 18. When Skye asked about her last name, Jet blurted out "Rocket" while pointing to a space rocket drawing on the wall, giving them their new names: Skye and Jet Rocket.

The next eight years were like a living hell for Skye, having to deal with Madame Rouge's abuse and intense study sessions. Her arms and face were marked by scratches and tiny scars for having to receive discipline after standing up for her brother or making a small mistake. She also had a fresh injury on her left side going up a bit towards her rib after making the mistake of lashing out of anger towards Madame Rouge for striking Jet and got the feeling of claw like nails scrape across her side, which was intended to cross her face but missed when Skye tried to dodge. One night, Skye overheard her roommates planning an escape and took the opportunity for her and her brother to be apart of it, swearing not to tell anyone else along with agreeing to sneak them candy until they're free.

On the night of the escape, 8 year old Skye snuck out of the room with a now 6 year old Jet and sent him with the others while she checked if Madame Rouge was asleep. Madame Rouge was asleep and all looked according to plan until she remembered the box of necklaces inside Rouge's nightstand on the day Skye snooped inside to find more information about her parents and accidentally found the box instead. Quickly, Skye grabbed the box and left to meet up with the kids while hiding it underneath her pajama shirt. The leader of the escapist was a girl named Sarah and led them down into the basement to escape through a small window which was surrounded by kids Skye never seen before and wearing cooking pots, baking sheets, sand pales and other stuff to look like armor with numbers and the letters KND painted on their "helmets" and "chestplates".

Despite meeting these strangers, Skye knew they were sent to help them escape. Before anyone could get away, the door slammed open and out flowed a number of security and women who Skye recognized a few who are her study tutors and lastly Madame Rouge, making the kids hearts stop while frozen in place while shielded by the KND operatives aiming their weapons. After Rouge furiously yelled out an order, a fight broke out, and most of the operatives were taken down from being outnumbered. Soon enough, some of the escapists were captured as well, leaving Sarah, Skye, and Jet the only kids to fend for themselves. Sarah grabbed hold of both their hands and made a run for the open window with Rouge closing in. Jet was the first to go out, and Skye followed behind, only to look back and witness Sarah being captured. A KND air ship was waiting outside for them and were taken to the moonbase to be checked and treated for any injuries for their first moments of freedom.

2 years later, Skye, age 10, is now a member of Sector V with her codename, Numbuh 7, and worked alongside Numbuh 2 as a 2x4 tech officer and pilot. Jet, age 8½, wasn't assigned a Sector and is instead a floating operative as a detective and journalist and is sent to sectors when on detective duty. During the night they sleep in Skye's room at the treehouse ever since their escape and were well taken care of for staying 2 years in a treehouse. Skye also has a best friend, Brynlee Dickson/Numbuh 205, when in cadet training while still blocked by the truth of who she truly is. One summer, Numbuh 1-love was hosting a summer party at Sector J with every sector being invited. The summer party was only the beginning for them, being the most eventful summer of their lives.

It wasn't until Madame Rouge started helping the adults make a mind control device that'll take down the entire kids next door, that all sectors were ordered by Numbuh 362 to station at Forever Home for a war between kids and adults. Chad tagged along with Skye, Bryn, and Jet to help them in the fight while secretly calling some TND operatives to help on the sidelines. During the last days of summer, Madame Rouge was finally defeated, and her body retreated into one of the necklaces, trapping her inside. Once she was contained, the necklace began to glow and got brighter by the second until releasing a red flash causing Skye,Jet,Brynlee, and Chad's eyes to flash between blue and red until finally ending at a bright blue before going back to normal. Slowly, their memories start coming back, revealing the truth about them being long-lost siblings to each other. After that, the family catches up on lost time, slowly turning whole again.

Voice Claims

Young- Hayley Tju (voice of Marcy Wu from Amphibia)

Teen/Adult- Linda Cardellini (voice of Wendy from Gravity Falls)

(Brynlee, Jacob, and Natalie belong to emtem.xox on instagram 💙)

[kamirai-k]

Chapter 138 (WHERE BACK BABBYY!!!)

My essay-long rants are back let's go!!!

It's been so long since we last got an update and as a comeback, (courtesy of Esol) this chapter has a lot to talk about.

But even though I have sooo much to say (I mean a lot) let's start from the beginning, shall we?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting with Yeownoo and Junhyuk in the hospital... The emotions that happened during were so intense

The tears!

The groveling!!

DID I MENTION THE GROVELING!!!

Now I'm going to be completely honest I was lowkey (Scratch that highkey) mad at Junhyuk for leaving Yeonwoo but I honestly understand that it was because he just wanted to pursue his passion. And even though I did get some enjoyment (a lot of enjoyment) from him apologizing for leaving Yeownoo that does not mean I'm not devastated that he broke his leg and can no longer pursue what he wants to do. That killed me. I'm not okay.

I was ready to throw my phone across the room when Yeonwoo started crying. That single panel of him just silently crying... I don't think I'm going to be okay for a while (that's a lie I'm living) the Angst in this chapter was so delicious.

I ate good. (Yummy)

Man! Don't even get me started on how Junhyuk is like "I swear I won't ever leave you again" I cannot be the only person who yelled LIAR!!! because that's exactly what he's doing right now! Smh.

Jokes aside the talk on the rooftop

The way Junhyuk shifts from I must hold that piece of trash accountable for what he did to my best friend to I will never let anybody find out what happened to my best friend. I was gagged.

The fact that in the beginning, Junhyuk was thinking what everybody is thinking currently as we read this "Tell someone! Anyone!! what happened to you!!!" shows you just how bad the situation is, and how he originally wasn't like this. Also bringing into light how their codependent really started right there. On the rooftop.

The look on Yeonwoo's face when Junhyuk told him that he knew what happened and that he wanted to tell his parents and file a school violence report...

That is honesty when it clicked for me just how bad everything is. Like previously it clicked but that look on his face tells me that Yeonwoo was never going to tell a single soul about what happened even if there was a guarantee that he would be fine.

Junhyuk only found out about what happened to Yeonwoo by pure chance. That's it. If he just had not walked into that classroom on that specific rainy day and look at the attendance sheet he would not have known a thing. (It's really got ideas going through my head about what would have happened if he just kept walking...)

Now to the main part of this entire chapter. The part that's been setting everybody on fire and making everybody want to sell their firstborn child for the chance to never have read this chapter in the first place.

The jumping threat.

Yeownoo's breakdown?! OMG!

I genuinely had to pause for an extended period of time. Because, the way I gasped when he pulled out that knife. I was screaming at my screen knowing damn well he can't hear me 'PUT THAT DOWN!!!'

(the fact that I read it like 30 minutes after it came out and it was like crack of dawn was not helpful)

Yeonwoo pulling out that knife and telling Junhyuk not to tell a single soul and that panel with his expression (you know the one I'm talking about) had me weak!

The utter desperation on his face and absolute fear of what happened to him being found out that really brings into consideration just how badly it affected him. Like I knew that what happened to him screwed up his mental state, but seeing just how desperate he was...

I'm going to have nightmares. I'm going to have nightmares just from that one panel alone. Plus all this happening behind a beautiful sunset is diabolical. Like a beautiful backdrop but a depressing scenario?! (I gotta take notes)

Esol really knows how to pull those angst punches, doesn't she?

What makes this worse is that throughout all of this, Junhyuk just wants to help his friend but ultimately ends up becoming complicit is so sad. Everything really accumulated here. Their codependency started here. On the rooftop of the hospital.

All junhyuk wants is to have Yeonwoo be safe. For him to be happy again but at the end of the day, he just couldn't do it.

And the way this ties back to Haesol and how he thinks only she can do that is just so smart yet so diabolical!!

One of my favorite parts is when Junhyuk is reaching out towards Yeonwoo!!!

That very panel was foreshadowed I don't know how many chapters before?!! I recognized it immediately and I was ecstatic but also shocked because I was speechless...

Originally I thought that panel was because when Yeonwoo found out what happened to Junhyuk's leg he fainted and Junhyuk caught him before he fell but the fact that this panel is because Junhyuk was trying to save Yeonwoo from killing himself? Oh my God, I don't know how but Esol is able to just take the angst and ramp it up in ways that I just cannot fathom.

GOD!

She is diabolical!!!

Then right after that, we get the look of increasing terror and petrification on Junhyuk's face when he realizes, this is serious. When he realizes that Yeonwoo is not okay to an EXTREME extent and if he does tell a single person what happened, Yeownoo is going to kill himself.

The flashback to the beginning of middle school when Yeonwoo was just smiling and happy. The flashback of his brother being irreparably damaged in a way that he cannot even begin to understand. The tears that come down his face when he pleads and begs and sobbs to Yeonwoo that-

"I'll do what you say! I won't say anything... just please, don't die."

OH, GOD!!!

Junhyuk pleading to Yeonwoo to not die is just so gut-wrenching it hurts so goooodd!!!

That is the most angsty we have gotten and I am here for more because I already know once this Arc is over it's going to get worse. (⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)

Here's the important part. The panel at the end where Yeonwoo is like I'm so sorry. The dead look in his eyes while the tears flow down his face... its so good and I automatically knew that this was a manipulation tactic.

Now don't take the word I use manipulation to be a bad thing because it's not.

Yeonwoo is simply doing what he thinks he needs to do for Junhyuk to not tell a single soul that he was assaulted. Especially his parents.

That is important his parents are a big reason why he's not telling anybody. After all the hardship his parents had to conceive him, them finding out that he was assaulted in middle school is going to break them. I sympathize with him. In all honesty, would you really want your parents to find out what happened to you especially after the circumstances of your birth were already so traumatizing for them?

Yeonwoo is just a teen doing what he thinks he must to keep from anyone knowing what happened. He said himself that he's too scared to kill himself so there's no way he would go through with it. This hit hard on my second reread when Yeonwoo mumbled "Is this a joke to you," kind of like he was thinking about what he'd have to do for Junhyuk to not tell his parents.

Jumping off the rooftop was his conclusion, and it worked.

Yeah.

The nuance in the layers is just so good.

Don't even get me started on how when this Arc of their friendship is over I already know that Haesol is next because of the little bits of foreshadowing we got that she was not happy with the current situation.

YEONSOL ANGST BABBYYY!!!

I'M GOING TO EAT THAT UP!!!!

Think about it. If you're boyfriend is going on and on for a week plus about how his best friend is not talking to him anymore and acting the way Yeonwoo is when you know that their relationship is not healthy. That the codependence that they exhibit towards each other is not okay. And instead of saying something about that you bottle it up.

Oohhh!!! I already know the angst between these two is going to go crazy.

Overall this chapter was great and the fact that this is the way that Esol decides to welcome us back is giving me the beginning of season 3 flashbacks because dear God that was not a time to be a Yeonwoo's Innocence fan. Ooohh. Pain and suffering.

There is so much more to talk about and I have so many more things to say but overall I loved this chapter and the way it foreshadows future things and also brings to light the previous foreshadowings that happened before it was absolutely amazing and I loved it and I'm going to go back and reread the manhwa for the umpteenth time so that I can catch every bit of foreshadowing that happened before and post that on my Twitter thread because that is insanity.

I love this chapter so much and to keep this from being any longer I'm going to stop it here.

Tell me what your guys's thoughts are in the comments because we need to talk about this!!!

This chapter was a bombshell and it was so good!

Absolutely devastating, but so good!!!

-Kimira

[evermorethecrow]

Draft 2 (with chuuya)

!!!CW!!: It's got lots of mentions of underage sex with adults in a looking back on it way, nothing actually explicit but its still mentioned a LOT so watch out for that, obvious warnings for pedophillia that tie into that!!

Fingers pushing into his hips, teeth on his lips hands under his shirt, a tongue down his throat.

Anything, everything and nothing all at once. Cigarette smoke and rubber. Warm eyes. Watching eyes.

Touch and pleasure.

Pain.

Things Chuuya lived for, things he equally needed to live.

Little acts of humanity and life to cement himself as another person walking among people.

Little things he needed to feel like a person at all.

Affection he craved.

Human connection.

An ache in his limbs, bruises on his skin, fog in his mind, small bits of love scattered on his body, someone did that to him, someone wanted him, anyone wanted him and then anyone wanted to leave a sign behind.

Adults didn't watch unruly kids and they certainly didn't care for them, didn't give them attention, affection or love. Well Chuuya was an unruly kid so he got ignored too. Tossed into the endless sinking pile of children with circumstances that left them lacking, lonely, vulnerable and pathetic.

But adults liked sex, liked to look and feel. Liked to watch and teach.

Unruly kids didn't get love but pretty ones did.

Tossed into a mattress sinking into the sheets. Pushed against a wall sinking into hands. Being complimented being cherished. Drowning in it all.

Chuuya knew everything about love at the age of 15. He knew how it felt, how it tasted, how he could use it. And in the mafia love was no different to the streets, dispensable for service, a tool to use, something to finish a mission. Some way to recover his mind.

He can't admit any dependance on it, because he doesn't have one. things like dependency and addiction made you weak. things like dependency and addiction would leave you as just another body on the floor of Suribachi's streets.

Not yet a corpse but far from alive and further from useful.

He didn't need to feel useful either. because need bled into want and want led to indulgence and indulgence fed into dependency and dependency turns to addiction and addiction ended on the streets of suribachi half dead and useless and Chuuya chose willingly to ignore the cycle in that sentiment.

Dazai, He soon realised however, knew nothing about love. He went as far as to bandage wrap himself, limiting contact. Keeping himself locked away.

Chuuya didn't understand and he didn't care either.

Dazai was weird and nothing but an obstacle in his life and if Dazai didn't need love in his edgy plate of requirements then he wouldn't get it.

But dazai in his entirety basked in over indulgence, and by the pipeline found himself privy to uselessness to. which was fine.

Chuuya could do things by himself, he can do them by himself he has before and he will undoubtedly again.

Chuuya doesn't care. him and Dazai clash all the time it's no wonder they would have different opinions on something as basic and human as this.

===========

[amnotaqueen]

A Fake Compliment/ Getting Supply

Every now and again there is the rare compliment that isn't really a compliment. It's a weak attempt to make himself seem like less of a bad person, I guess.

Today we were dressed up, going to the second day of our Regional Convention as Jehovah's Witnesses. He says to me, "This, your dress, still fits." I was wearing an old skirt and blouse that I've had a long time. The best 'compliment' he could come up with, without making himself throw up, I guess, was that it was good that I could still fit into old clothes. And that was it. He didn't linger one bit in any positivity about me. He has said things in the past like, 'That dress looks good'. Not, 'YOU look good.' I don't get romance. I don't get affection. I don't get noticed. My mom used to compliment me all the time and then sometimes at her urging he would agree with whatever compliment she gave me. I don't know how to respond to his apparently fake compliments anymore. I know they are insincere now, but I didn't always know that. Now, I mostly wonder, why would he be complimenting me? What is his ulterior motive. The motive definitely is not because he loves and appreciates me and wants me to feel loved and appreciated.

Yesterday, after the convention when I asked about buying some fast food for dinner because I didn't have time or energy to prepare a dinner for us because of the convention, he immediately responded by asking me if I knew how much was on his credit card. He was obviously annoyed that I wanted him to buy us dinner. Yet, today he introduced me to a Nigerian couple at the convention and he had expressed to them how good it would be if we all could get together and have dinner after the program, but he knew it was not possible because they were most likely tired and needed to get back and rest. He was trying them, hoping they would say 'Oh, we don't need to rest! Let's hang out!' But they did not. And there was no mention of how much was already charged on his credit card. There is no price he won't pay to get his supply. He does not withhold from himself the way he withholds from me and our son. It means that he is very willing to spend money to socialize with people he has just met, but he has not desire to spend money to eat with just me and his son.

Recently, I've gone months without a working dryer. I was hanging clothes to dry on my son's swing set outside (which my mom bought). I would also hang wet clothes on various pieces of furniture in a spare room in our house. Or I was drying clothes at my mom's house. He neglected fixing the dryer for months. He finally fixed the dryer when we were moving and then he left the dryer, so we moved without it and the washing machine. He had fixed it because he planned to rent the house we were moving from. That was what got him to fix the dryer, not the fact that it was inconvenient for his wife to get the laundry done for our family with only a working washing machine. Then, after we moved, I went another almost 3 months with no washer and no dryer. I was going to a laundry mat and washing loads as cheaply as possible (i.e. throwing as many clothes that would fit into a single washer, whites and colors together, with no bleach. Towels were mixed in with regular clothes. Bedspreads and sheets were not washed as frequently as they should have been.) Whenever I asked about getting a washing machine and dryer, he didn't have money. It was not a priority. I went to the Laundromat to wash our clothes when I was sick with strep throat in the snow and rain during this time. I'm not allowed to get sick. He does not think to help me at times like those. And he always has money to do the things HE wants to do or that gives him the supply he needs. At one point, he told me that I could wash clothes in the bath tub. I should hand wash a weeks worth of clothes for two adults and one kid in the bathtub? I still need to have his meals cooked too, you know. He is crazy. And when I asked him where I was supposed to dry all of our clothes since we moved and I don't have the swing set and extra space in the house now. It's very windy where we are, too windy to hang clothes on the fence to dry. Besides, that would be embarrassing for me in the neighborhood we are in. My narc husband didn't reply and didn't care.

He finally, eventually bought a washer and dryer. But the message that I do not matter one bit was heard loud and clear