#I hurt my throat... but like... WHY DID THIS HAPPEN

[lokisgoodgirl]

Clean [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After a difficult mission, your ex Loki has a revelation. (w/c 1.6k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mild angst. Pining. Feelings. Smuttish. Loki x Fem Reader. A/N: I'm planning some filthy stuff soon - but for now, we're still in angsty romance era. 😇

Loki sat hunched with his back against the bathroom wall, head in his hands. Blood was smeared over the white shirt: his own and not his own. It was ripped in several places, sleeves folded up to the elbows.

“It wasn’t locked,” you said stiffly, fingers tightening around the knob. “Would it have mattered? I expect you’re quite desperate to see me like this.” He tilted his head, voice sharp, eyes tired. “Don’t you wish to capture the scene on your device? Surely Rogers would relish a commemoration of my ineptitude.”

Loki had made a scene as the team exited the Quinjet, throwing his ruined suit jacket off the roof of Stark Tower and kicking a fire bucket for good measure. His voice was choked with anger.

“Let me be,” he’d roared after Steve shouted something about medical in his direction. The Captain had turned to the rest of you with a defeated shrug, but your eyes hadn't left Loki's back as he waged a path though the doors and they slammed behind him in a flash of green.

Loki had taken the worst of the heat from the Hydra agents working undercover in downtown Chicago. He’d been cornered by three of them, and soon a capture order had turned into a triple kill—but not before taking some punishment for his efforts.

‘I tried to subdue them humanely,’ Loki had muttered afterwards, inspecting a deep gash on his forehead in the Quinjet’s sheen. ‘They wouldn’t listen to reason.’ ‘How hard did you try?’ Steve had sniped. ‘We’re in a pickle now, thanks Laufeyson. A real pickle indeed. Typical.’ To that, Loki had said nothing. He’d refused all clean-up on the way home, sitting in a fury-riddled silence that tainted the re-circulated air.

You took a step over the bathroom’s boundary, and then shrank back.

Relations between you had been frosty since you’d gone your separate ways: to this day you weren’t quite sure what had happened. One day, everything was perfect. The next—it was over. You’d chalked it up to the god settling in to life on Earth; him realising you weren’t the only person on the planet who thought the sun shone from his perfectly formed arse…but that had never felt right. Despite snooping, you’d never got a whiff of him shagging anyone else. Based on your experience with Loki, that was especially odd.

You took a deep breath, crossing the floor and extending a hand. To your surprise, he took it and heaved himself up. Fuck, you’d forgotten how heavy he was; how his forearms bulged when they flexed, how his body felt pressing down on yours as he railed you gently on the bed you’d shared.

Ok, maybe not that last one. You cleared your throat, pulling your hand back. Loki sighed, eyes cast to the floor.

“I’m filthy,” he said with an air of disgust, reflexively running a hand across his waist. Pain rippled across his features.

“You’re hurt, you need to go to—” “I’m quite well.” “Loki,” you warned. His lashes fluttered up, nailing his gaze to yours. An eyebrow cocked. Feeling your cheeks heat, you turned and switched on the shower. “Steve shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier,” you said, trying to keep the flurry of nerves from your voice. “You did what you had to do—they’d have killed you.” “Please,” Loki snorted. “They would not have killed me. I’m offended that you would even imply it.” You glanced over your shoulder. Even in his dishevelled state, he was giving every inch the haughty, regal snob that you’d fallen desperately in love with. And that was the problem, wasn't it? It was the only version of him you'd ever been granted.

“Then why are you in such a state?” Loki’s brow furrowed. “A what?” “Why are you upset?” “I’m not upset.” “You were literally sitting on the floor with your head in your hands.” “It’s an Asgardian victory custom.” “Loki…”

His jaw clenched as you leant against the sink and his keen eyes darted over your face. “I…tried not to kill them,” he said through gritted teeth. It was the same voice he’d used when the two of you had ‘the conversation’—you hadn’t heard it since. An icy finger trailed down your spine at the bitterness in his voice as he said, “I failed.”

Understanding blossomed through your mind. You remembered a cold winter’s night, Loki curled naked against your back, confessing his deepest secret while he thought you’d slept. I’m afraid I’ll never be good, he’d whispered in the dark; that I’ll always be stained with the curse of my past.

You realised the mask of stoicism had slipped from your face at the exact moment Loki’s expression shifted. His gaze broke, returning to the floor. “You should leave,” he said. “You’re not safe with me.” The echo of the last time you’d been alone together—the same words. Does he remember?

Pushing off the sink, you shuffled towards him, cupping his forearm. The grit of dried blood rubbed beneath your fingertips as you squeezed. “You can’t think that. It’s been years…”

Suddenly Loki’s hands ran up your cheeks, thumbs pressing into your jaw as your back met the wall. He’d pinned you under the shower, speckles of water hitting off his shoulder and splattering your skin. His eyes searched yours: all fire, and destiny.

“I’ll never be free,” he said. His gaze dropped to your lips and back to your eyes. “I’ll never be clean.”

You caressed the well-trodden path his buttons made up the front of his shirt. Still beautifully tailored despite the dirt, and sweat, and blood. “Not with that attitude,” you said, and his brows peaked. “Everyone knows your history, Loki. We need you here. We want you here.” “And you?”

The shower seemed very loud all of a sudden. Especially me. “You really have to ask?” You brushed the sides of his shirt apart and Loki swallowed, his eyes closing a heartbeat too long as your fingers lingered on the bruise forming over the flat of his abdomen. “Loki…” you chided, tracing the blossom of indigo across his alabaster skin. “Steve was right, you should be in medical.” He snorted, hands falling by his sides. “If you’d come five minutes later, it would have been gone.” Fat droplets of water roll over the tips of his cheekbones, streaks of pale skin beneath the dust and dirt of the mission. You’ve never seen him like this. He never let you see anything other than the perfect prince; the unshakeable god. “Doesn’t it hurt?” You circled higher on his chest, appreciating the taut skin firm beneath your own. You'd swear you could see the thrum of his heartbeat.

“Always,” he said sadly, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t talking about the injuries. God, I miss this. I miss him. Now, finally, you could admit it to yourself. The weight of the confession slid from your body, circling the drain as Loki shivered, and the dark pools of his pupils spread wider.

Cautiously, your hands ran up his chest, over his shoulders, peeling the soaking shirt from his back and down his arms. It fell with a slop to the shower floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a faint narrow of his eyes. You licked your lips, unsure of what how to answer. What are you doing? But it was now or never. This kind of vulnerability was a particularly rare ship to dock in Loki’s harbour.

Running your palms up his neck, he groaned softly as they slid up the sharp prow of his jawline, up the bladed cheekbones and into the slick of his sodden hair. He closed his eyes, a low sigh rattling his chest. For a moment, there was only the patter of water against porcelain.

“Showing you how to be clean again,” you whispered before your lips fastened to his. Loki’s eyes shot open, one hand slamming to the tiles behind your shoulder to steady himself as you pulled away. Your heart thumped between your ribs.

Oh god, he doesn’t want it. You’ve fucked it up. Memories of the longing glances you’d seen painted on his face across the room, the brush of his touch on your arm which lasted a second too long, the anger simmering beneath his skin when he thought you’d moved on. It had all been in your head. The thought was almost too much to bear.

“Why did you stop?”

Breath caught in your throat as his words soaked through the rising steam; low and smooth. The response fell from your mouth in breathless stages, hyper-focused on the shirt plastered to his skin. “I didn’t think you wanted it, I’m sorry I—” A soft, disbelieving chuckle rumbled in his throat before he said, “How could I not want you?” Your eyes rose.

The god was fully soaked now; hair plastered to his neck like ink, shirt and trousers moulded to the sinews and meat of his body like a second skin. The last traces of dirt from his skin were gone, and the water around your feet ran clear. You pulled the back of his neck towards you.

Loki’s kiss was an eruption of desire, of pain, of need; his palm slipping on the tile behind your head before switching to your waist. It worked over your hip, your breasts, your ass, never staying in one place, never lingering too long. “Gods, I missed you, I've missed you,” he murmured wet against your cheek. You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling the sodden top over your head. “So soon?” A soft smile curled at his mouth. “We’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we?”

In answer, Loki ran a finger from the hollow of your neck between your breasts. A chill skated across your skin as your trousers dissolved— his too. He pressed his body to yours, warm against the sharp sting of the tiles. Water pooled in the crevice where your skin met, Loki’s kisses sliding over your lips—one slipping into the next—pants of devotion wisping down your throat. He lifted your thigh, manoeuvring himself inside with one, liquid movement. You clasped to his shoulders, nails digging in to his flesh like he might vanish. All you could feel was his body, his presence, his faint moan of relief in your ear.

“No more living in the past,” you panted. “Loki, promise me.” He tilted his cheek into your wrist, water droplets falling from the ends of his hair to the curve of your breasts below. “A fresh start,” he said quietly, kissing the delicate skin. You groaned as he thrusted gently inside you. “Clean,” he panted, “New.” “Together,” you said. “Together,” Loki replied.

And then, among plumes of steam and the slide of bodies and wordless promises, there was no more talking.

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[all3-stxr]

i like the way you kiss me

you and satoru were both teacher at jujutsu tech. as always, he pestered you just as much as he did with nanami and yaga. now, he was sitting on your desk of the empty classroom as you dusted off the chalkboard, pouting about the higher ups.

"i just. . . i don't get it. how they don't give a damn about those kids. i think i do a good job about caring, right?"

"you do really well, satoru." you ruffle his hair before returning back to cleaning the chalkboard.

that makes his cheeks flush a little red, not used to such praise. well, sure, he's praised by so many people, but from you, it just felt. . . different.

he cleared his throat before changing the subject. "so. . . wanna go out and get dinner? or is it too early for all of that?"

you hum quietly. "well, actually, i've been meaning to talk to you about something."

as you turn to face him, his blue eyes met yours as he tilted his head to the side. this was something he wasn't prepared for, but he could deal with it. "yeah? what's up?"

you were only able to meet his eyes directly since he was hunched over on your desk (thank god for that). "i want you to leave jujutsu."

he blinked. did he hear that right? sure, the idea of leaving did come across his mind every now and then, but he could never bring himself to do it. he opened his mouth to protest but hesitated before saying anything. ". . . why?"

you glance away for a moment. "they're just using you."

he stared at you for a moment. he knew you were right. hell, everyone knew it - he hated it just as much as you did - but there was no other option. he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know. . . i know they are. but i can't just leave. not now. i have responsibilities, there's so much more that i have to do that i can't just leave."

you gently cup his cheeks, tilting his head back up to look at you, despite his blindfold being on and you didn't know where his eyes were trained. "but you deserve more than that."

he didn't hesitate to lean into your hands, letting out a shaky breath. he wished he could leave. but who was going to take his place? he was the strongest for a reason. and what happens to his students when he leaves? megumi? itadori stuck with sukuna? he would never stop blaming himself if something or someone got hurt after he left. "i- i know but- i can't."

"if you wont leave, then promise me this-"

he didn't hesitate to nod, eyes trained on you as he listened to each and every word you had to say.

"-always come back safe to me."

he was a bit taken aback by this. he was strong enough to take on anything, that was what he was made for, right? he didn't doubt his abilities at all, but if it would ease her anxiety and make her happy, then he'd do it. "i promise."

your eyes narrow, taking in his expression with great scrutiny, making sure he wasn't lying. you gently lift his blind fold onto his forehead, finally meeting his beautiful blue orbs (he knew you loved just looking at them).

"thank you, 'toru." you say softly.

his ears grew a little pink at that. "of course." he muttered quietly.

you couldn't help but laugh a little at how shy he seemed for a moment. "dork."

"but i'm your dork, right?" he smirked down at you, looking at you with those bright, adoring eyes.

you roll your eyes and tug the blindfold back down. "yes. my dork."

he was a bit surprised by you tugging down the blindfold but could only smile like an idiot. that's all he was. he was just a big idiot when it came to you. "good. all yours~" he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

you hum. "you know, i never see you kissing nanami's forehead. . ."

he snorted. "i never kiss anyone's forehead. except for yours." he hummed, pressing another kiss to your forehead, then to your nose. he really was just trying to kiss any part of you he could.

"alright, lover boy, that's enough." you smile and push him away gently.

he pouts and tugs you back against his chest. "come on, just one more. please?"

you shake your head which causes him to whine and pull you closer, your thigh sliding between his and you feel him. all of him.

"i need you." he murmured into your ear.

now, this wasn't the first time you two have gotten a little handsy. working as a sorcerer, you don't have much time for relationships, but that doesn't mean you can just stop being horny. so, just as satoru was your cure for that, you were his. and you couldn't just leave him like this.

"i didn't even do anything, satoru-!" you're cut off by him grinding his hips down against your thigh and you feel that familiar heat pool in your stomach.

"don't need to baby, you're just so fuckin' pretty."

you have to bite back a groan at the sultry hint in his voice, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "please, angel."

you push him back against the chair, making him sit, easily sliding off his belt like it was an everyday occurrence (which it practically was from how good this man felt and sounded while he was balls deep inside of you).

his eyes are trained on you and he slides off his blindfold once more so you can look into his eyes. but what he wasn't expecting was for you to get down on your knees after sliding down his boxers to his ankles, and begin pressing kisses down the shaft of his pretty pink cock.

he has to stop the moan from escaping his lips just at mere kisses, and a large hand clamps over his mouth as your tongue swirls over his flushed tip, leaking with precum.

"so wet already." you snicker, but before you can utter out another word he bucks his hips up into your face, dick sliding down the slippery hole of your throat, making him groan loudly. "mm, i'm sorry. so so so sorry, baby. please- ngh- forgive me." he babbled out, hand coming down to gently stroke your hair as you tried to suppress your gag reflex from acting up.

you can only hum, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as you began to suck him off, hands holding down his toned thighs to stop him from fucking your throat until you couldn't breathe.

his hand bundled up your hair to give him some sort of leverage so he could try (and fail) to hold himself together. that's when his eyes flicker over to the open door and he almost cums right there on the spot - you fucking knew.

"y/n, the door-" his voice is muffled by his hand, and the look in his eyes shows he's about to lose it. if nanami or yaga, or even one of the kids walked in right now-

you slowly slide him out of your mouth, swallowing his slick as you respond. "then be a good boy and be quiet, sweetheart."

he whines at your words. you knew how vocal he could be, especially when you sucked him off - nothing but loud groans and praises, practically begging for you to let him cum in your pussy next or he "might just die."

for someone known as the strongest, he didn't act like it the second his dick came into the picture.

he watches intently as your candied lips slide over his length, cheeks hollowed out, making room for him just because he got hard after kissing your face.

he's entranced by the way only his tip stays in your mouth when you pull up, then sink back down around him in a heap, and he's biting his shirt just to shut himself up (not that it was doing him any favors). you could still hear his pretty groans as his head rolls back, hips faintly stuttering up into your mouth as he tried to close that space and feel your tight little throat around him again.

"fuckfuckfuckfuck-" his hand begins to guide you, pushing you down and slowly lifting you back up easily. he can feel your throat spasming every time you take him in fully, little white hairs tickling your nose before you're back up to just his tip.

you blink up at him and god is this view ethereal. brows knit together, long white lashes fluttering ever so slightly at each thrust, his uniform wettened by his mouth as he moans into it, saying your name like some sort of prayer. you feel just how wet your panties are, and you know you're gonna ask those long fingers to do you a favor later.

"'m gonna cum," the shirt falls from his mouth as he warns you, but you just hum some more, and you know that's what set him off as he lets out the most pornographic moan and keeps you at your pace to ride off his orgasm, and you're sure every person in the school could hear it. creamy white liquid just filling your throat and no matter how many times you swallow, it just keeps coming.

and your thoughts are only confirmed when nanami's voice comes from down the hallway and you almost choke on his load. "gojo?"

[chxrryhxrt]

Draw stars around my scars, part 2 - Remus Lupin x Female Reader

Read part 1 here!

Synopsis: Many weeks had passed since the most recent full moon, yet James and Sirius still will not let you see Remus. What could they be hiding?

Warnings: angst, fluff at the end, swearing, mentions of injuries

After you made your visit to Remus that night, things briskly returned to the way they had been: him locked away in the infirmary, still recovering, and you left to your own devices, with only homework and classes to keep you occupied.

The feelings of betrayal and confusion did not come and go with the days as you might expect – rather they flooded you, engulfing every facet of your life and though you knew it was pitiful, you could not find it within yourself to just ‘get over it’. This was the advice Sirius had insightfully bestowed upon you when he found you in the common room the morning after, clearly having heard about the altercation from Remus himself.

It was common knowledge that Sirius was not the most well-versed in emotions – you could ask anyone on campus, and they would be able to tell you that, but that was not what upset you about his ‘pep talk’.

What did it for you was that Remus had spoken to Sirius about you. You were aware it sounded silly, but who were you if not the person that Remus shared everything with? You had been there for him in fourth year when he got a low score on his potions exam, consoling him and vowing to keep it a secret between the two of you. Ever since you learnt of his lycanthropy, you had spent the days after full moons making sure that he was comfortable and safe.

In essence, you knew everything there was about Remus Lupin, and in turn, he knew everything about you. So, to find out that he had just shared your private business with Sirius, it hurt. You did not care if they were best friends: it hurt – plain and simple.

Despite all of this, you pushed through, burying it in the confines of your heart and focussing on school.

Now a week on, your feet carried you to class, sending echoes down the corridor with each strike of your shoes against the worn stone ground. Almost late, you rounded the corner to your lesson, hurried pace unfaltering – until you heard a familiar voice up ahead.

Getting closer now, he came into your view, standing outside the room with Professor McGonagall.

“I am assured you understand the work you must catch up on?” She inquired, shuffling a small stack of paperwork together, before passing them over to the boy opposite her.

“Yes, Professor,” he smiled, accepting the sheets into his hands, “I’ll try to have it all finished by the end of the week.”

“Wonderful, I do hope that you’re feeling better.” She turned on her heel, passing through into her classroom, leaving Remus alone and you standing at the other end of the corridor.

His gaze flickered over, noticing the fidgeting of your silhouette in his periphery. As his eyes met your own and his hand shakily rose to obscure his lower face, the air in your throat hitched and your brows knitted together. 


You remained like this for a short, bittersweet moment – relieved to see that he was doing okay, although confused as to why he was shielding his face, but still indescribably agonised as you recalled what had happened the last time you saw him.

Rashly deciding that you could not bear to stay put any longer, lest you say something to him, you resumed your dash down the hall and ducked past Remus, into the classroom and collapsed in your seat, books firmly thudding onto the ink-stained table.

Only seconds after your loud entrance, he slipped in too, sitting wedged between Sirius and James on the other side of the room.

As you spent the next sixty minutes jotting down notes on transfiguration, the sound of quills on parchment and Professor McGonagall’s lecture filled the class. Though you tried to concentrate, thoughts of Remus incessantly flooded the forefront of your mind.

Upset as you were, you could not help but yearn to see his face entirely again. He had become a familiar pillar in your life over the years at Hogwarts, with there almost never being a day where he was not by your side. Having not seen him properly since before the full moon was slowly killing you.

Awkwardly, your neck twisted around, cracking slightly as you leant back to peer behind the Hufflepuff seated next to you. There he was: hunched over his desk, scrawling away, ever the academic. Continuing to stare, you took in his slightly dishevelled appearance. His sleeves were pulled as far down as they could go, yet bandages still managed to peek out of the bottoms. His hair was flecked with gold, falling messily over his forehead like always, except a new pink ribbon of a scratch descended from his hairline, travelling diagonally down across his face. The wound finished just above the corner of his mouth, which twitched as he paused to think.

Placing your palms onto your table, you braced yourself to quietly turn back around. Success almost befell you, but alas, James caught sight of you at the last moment, reaching behind Remus to prod Sirius, gesturing silently towards you.

Scoffing, you snatched up your pen and prepared to carry on with your note taking.

Having gotten a good look at him, you found it easy to hazard a guess at the cause of his hostility that night in the infirmary. Never in your six years of knowing Remus Lupin did you get the impression that he was self-assured, confident, or felt anything other than insecure. So, you could safely assume that this new scar was the source of several new insecurities itself.

Either way, just because he was feeling glum did not give him an excuse to be rude to you. Not when you had blatantly expressed your unconditional love for him and worked so tirelessly to bring communication into your relationship.

You told Lily this currently, the two of you curled up on a twin pair of armchairs in the Gryffindor common room.

“I completely agree,” she sympathised, tucking her feet underneath her, “if James spoke to me like that, we would be having some serious words.”

“I’m really glad you understand,” you smiled tightly, running your fingers through your hair, “I just feel like, insanely petty? I do want to talk to Remus, but I want it to be him that initiates the conversation, not me.”

“I hate for my advice to be so useless, but I think he just needs time. He really does care for you, he’ll come around eventually.” She leant forward in her seat to place a hand on your forearm, soothing the skin there in a show of comfort.

Aware that she was right; you nodded and hummed your agreement.

“If it’s any consolation, James said that Remus has been a miserable old bag since he had that go at you,” Lily offered, retracting her arm back into her lap. You supposed it did help a little, to know that he was feeling awful too.

“Actually, that’s a relief to hear-“ you went to respond, but found yourself interrupted as James bolted into the common room, calling your name.

Unsure of what to do with yourself, you shot the girl opposite you a panicked look – debating between either running away or hiding somewhere nearby. Anyone who was anyone knew that when James Potter came knocking, it did not end well.

Too caught up in planning an escape route, you were soon hunted down by the boy, as you looked up to see a second year pointing in your direction. Scowling, you accepted your fate and sat up rigid in your chair, preparing yourself for what was to come.

He patted the younger student on the back as thanks and picked his pace back up, lightly jogging towards you both.

‘Hi Lily.” He simpered; eyes full of adoration as he glanced at her. “Sorry to interrupt you two lovely ladies, but I need you to come with me really quick.” He huffed, out of breath, as his gaze shifted over to your figure.

Although he lacked his usual mischievous smirk, you remained apprehensive to place any trust in him. Whilst he had not done anything wrong himself, he was friends with Remus, who decidedly had done something very wrong. So, you were almost obligated not to follow him, simply by proxy.

It seemed that he could tell what you were thinking, as his hands clasped together in front of him, and he began to do what could only be described as begging.

“Please,” he started, shaking his arms at you, “it’ll be like, ten minutes maximum. I just need you to come help me with some,” he looked away, “homework.”

Still unconvinced, you looked back over to Lily, who only contributed a small shrug to the conversation. You both knew James well, and you both knew he would not leave unless forced. In this moment, you realised your only real choice was to do what he asked, because Merlin knows you were not in the mood to physically remove your best friend’s boyfriend from the room.

You reluctantly peeled yourself off the armchair, trailing behind as he led the way.

 In the back of your mind, you knew that he did not need help with his homework. Even though he and Sirius spent most of their free time pranking other pupils, they rarely struggled with the workload given to them by teachers. It was a miracle really, that either of them should even be passing classes, let alone excelling in them.

As the pair of you passed through the dimly lit hallways, evening moonlight poured through the windows, offering slightly more illumination than the sconces could on their own. There was a soft pattering of people hurrying by, headed to the Great Hall for dinner.

You wove between the bustling crowd, being taken deeper into the East Wing. You neared the less frequently used classrooms and began to wonder what James truly needed from you. It clearly was not help with academics, since you could have assisted him with that back in the common room.

He came to a halt outside a room you had never noticed before, its door tucked tightly between the cobbled pillars that sat on each side. His palm reached out, face up and his fingers wiggled unbecomingly.

“Before we go inside, I need you to give me your wand,” he urged, hand writhing even more as he posed his request.

You began to pull your wand out of your pocket, but a wave of sanity washed heavily over you, clutching it firmly in your fist.

“Why do you need it?” you pried, suspicions rising rapidly.

“Doesn’t matter,” he tried, hand making a grabby gesture, “I just need it.”

“Well, that’s not a good enough reason, is it?”

“Just,“ he lunged at you, successfully swiping the wand from your grip, “give it here!”

Left bewildered and frustrated by the childish grin that adorned his face, you huffed. You did not remain like this for long however, as James grabbed your hand and pulled you into the room with him, hinges screeching as the door opened and shut behind you.

The new surroundings were underwhelming. Desks lined the sides of the room, pushed up against the walls, dust sheets draped over them. There were few windows, leaving the area significantly darker than the corridor you had just found yourself in. Apart from this, the room was virtually empty – except for Remus and Sirius, who stood front and centre, Remus with a dejected look on his face, and Sirius with an irritatingly smug one.

Obviously proud with himself, he stepped forward, standing assertively between you and Remus, clearing his throat obnoxiously.

“You’re probably wondering why I gathered you all here today,” he announced to the chamber, “and I can tell you, it’s because I am absolutely exhausted with Moons here being a pain in my arse.”

Even in the poor lighting, you saw a frown flicker across his features at that, but he did not try to protest it.

“Just ‘cause you two are having a lover’s tiff-“ he pointed accusatorily at the both of you, “-does not mean that poor old James and I need to suffer as well.”

He started to move towards the exit, pulling his wand out of his pocket.

“I’m going to lock this door, and we’re going to leave the two of you to make up,” he explained slowly, “we’ll come back in an hour – if you guys haven’t sorted it out by then, we’ll leave you here until the morning, which means no dinner for either of you.”

It was normally hilarious when he got like this, all attitude and condescension, but the idea of being locked away with Remus overshadowed the funniness of the moment, and you contemplated begging to be let out.

Your mind raced with confliction. As much as you wanted a chance to speak with Remus, you had wanted it to be of his own volition. Locking him away and forcing him to speak with you felt a little unfair. Then again, you were not the one who planned this elaborate scheme.

Neither of you had the chance to say anything, as Sirius and James swiftly left the room, the door clicking shut behind the pair of them.

Not seeing the use in delaying it any longer, you turned to face Remus properly for the first time in over a week and a half. He offered a small smile, clearly finding this just as awkward as you did.  

“Um,” he mumbled, looking away from you.

You felt daft, as if you lacked a backbone, because that was all it took for you to begin to empathise with him again. Even though the derelict class had little to no light in it, he still could not bring himself to risk showing you his new scar, worried you would hate it - hate him.

Though you loved him dearly and would not change a thing about him for the world, you only wished he could be more confident in himself. He was nothing but gorgeous and you intended on telling him that right now.

“I saw your new scar,” you jumped straight in, noticing how his body stiffened, “I think it suits you – gives you a rugged look, it’s nice, kind of handsome, too.”

Only semi convinced, he turned to meet your gaze, responding with a shy, “You think so?”

“I know so,” you beamed, overjoyed to be talking to him again.

“That’s really kind of you to say, considering I was so rude to you,” he admitted.

You chose to let him continue, anxious to see what else he had to say.

“I just- I just wasn’t ready for you to see me, especially not like that, all bandaged up and helpless,” he swallowed thickly, “but I know that doesn’t mean I can just run around being a dickhead the people I love, I’m really truly sorry.”

You stepped closer, reaching your hands out for his.

“I should’ve respected your privacy, Rem, I’m sorry too.”

His arms tugged you in closer, enveloping you in a tight embrace with his palms running lengths along your back.

"It’s okay, next time I’ll tell Sirius and James to be honest about it with you, instead of letting them make up silly excuses,” he chuckled slightly.

“Actually, that did upset me a bit.”

“What did? The excuses?”  

“No,” you paused for thought, “when you told Sirius about our little spat, I don’t know, I just felt a bit betrayed, usually I’m the one you tell everything to and I wasn’t used to Sirius knowing all this stuff about us,” you answered honestly, voice soft and gentle as not to break the tranquil moment.

“Oh, you’re so sweet, aren’t you?” he replied, no malice in his tone, just humour as his palms moved to hold your face, “you’re my number one – always have been, always will be.”

His eyes searched yours, and in that instant, you knew everything would be okay.

Tags:

@moonpascaltoo @wonderlandwalker @simp-for-fiction @allllium @too-lameforyou @kenqki @queenanababy @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @tomsspidermangf @777heavengirl @oyeahwatchme @maccapacks

Tagging some people who I think might be interested in part 2! Thank you so much for reading 🫶🫶

[perfectsunlight]

[25] TRENDING

warnings: arguments, major angst, public pressure, panic attack

"why did you have to make it a big deal?” ivory groaned as jennie dragged her through the crowd, frustration boiling over. she yanked her arm out of her mother’s grip, glaring at her. “it was just one night! one drink!”

jennie spun around, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation. “one drink? is that what you think this is about? ivory, there were cameras! people were recording! do you have any idea what could happen if that video gets out?”

ivory crossed her arms, defiant. “i can deal with my own issues, you don’t need to control everything around me.” the younger girl protested, still clearly visibly upset.

“i’m not trying to control you,” jennie replied, her voice strained and pointed, “i’m trying to protect you! this isn’t just about you having a good time. do you know what it’s like to have your every move scrutinized? how one wrong step can ruin you? i lived through it, it destroyed me, and i’m not going to let that happen to you!” 

“i’m not you!” ivory shot back, her voice rising. even in the dark, jennie could see the emotions painted on her daughter’s face. “i’m not going to make the same mistakes you did. you didn’t even raise me!”

jennie froze at her words, the accusation knocking the wind out of her lungs. her breath caught in her throat, but she quickly masked the hurt with a sharp inhale. she kept her composure, but her eyes flickered with an emotion jane hadn’t seen before—something raw, something deeply buried that her daughter had just unwittingly unearthed.

and truth be told, ivory regretted saying those words the moment they left her mouth.

“i tried,” jennie finally responded, her voice quieter now, laced with a trembling vulnerability. “i did everything i could to make sure you didn’t have to grow up thinking you weren’t loved. i did what i could.”

the younger idol clenched her fists, her own anger mixing with guilt, but she couldn’t back down. “you don’t get to use that as an excuse every time you screw up! you weren’t there when i needed you. you were always off somewhere—on tour, in another country, doing fucking photoshoots—while grandma raised me.”

her maternal heart twisted painfully at jane’s words. she knew there was truth in them, but hearing it out loud from her daughter felt unbearable. her voice faltered, but she tried to steady it. “you think i didn’t want to be there? you think it didn’t kill me every time i had to leave you behind? i did it all for you, ivory.”

“yeah, well, i didn’t ask for that!” ivory shouted, her frustration spilling over. “i didn’t ask for you to sacrifice everything for me. i just wanted you! not the fame, not the money, not the gifts—just my mom.”

jennie’s jaw tightened, her emotions swirling just beneath the surface. she wanted to argue back, to defend herself, but she couldn’t. the truth was, there were times when she’d chosen her career over being present, and she knew she couldn’t change the past.

but it still hurt her knowing how much she had failed as a mother.

“we can discuss this later.” jennie’s voice was firm, her words cutting through the noise around them as she reached for her daughter’s arm, pulling her closer. the chaos of the club, the loud music, and the flashing lights all faded into the background as her focus narrowed to one thing: getting ivory out of there before things got worse.

her eyes scanned the crowd around them, trying to find that camera from earlier. but ivory quickly pulled away, her eyes flashing with anger. “no! i’m not leaving just because you say so.” her voice was defiant, sharp with the kind of stubbornness that jennie recognized all too well.

it was like looking into a mirror of her younger self. 

“you will leave. now. let’s go.” the older kim hissed in an icy tone, already getting near the end of her rope. “if that video gets around—”

“let them!” ivory snapped, cutting her mother off. “i don’t care what people think! and i could care less about your reputation.”

finally, her mother felt her frustration boil over at her daughter's dismissive attitude. “you think this is about my reputation?” she demanded, her voice rising in the crowded club, drawing unwanted attention. “this is about you, ivory! about your future! do you have any idea how damaging this could be?”

jane crossed her arms defiantly, her expression a mix of anger and stubbornness. “just because you couldn’t handle it doesn’t mean i can’t!” the words flew out of her mouth before she could think them through, fueled by a rush of adrenaline and resentment.

“really? you want to live your life? like this?” jennie gestured around them at the throng of partygoers, the flashing lights, and the chaos that felt so far removed from what she envisioned for her daughter. “you think this is living?”

but jane was done listening. she pulled away, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd for a way to escape. “i’m not going anywhere with you. you always think you know what’s best, but you don’t. you’re just scared, and you’re trying to make me scared too.”

jennie noticed a few heads turning toward them, whispers circulating through the crowd. people had started to gather, a few phones in hand, potentially recording their fight. panic surged through jennie, urging her to act.

“please, valentine, let’s just go,” jennie pleaded, her voice lowering in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “we can talk about this later. just come with me—”

“no!” ivory shouted again, her voice ringing out against the booming music. “i don’t care what you say. i’m staying, and you can’t force me to leave. maybe i’ll stay right here and let them all see what a bad mother you are!”

the weight of her words felt like a slap, and jennie closed her eyes for a brief moment, willing herself to stay calm. jennie knew she was a bad mother, it was something she had come to accept years ago. hearing it from her own daughter didn’t make it hurt any less, though.

“honey, you’re not thinking clearly. we can’t have this fight here, not like this. please.”

but her daughter shook her head vehemently, a sense of defiance boiling over as she threw her arms up in frustration. maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the years of pent up emotions finally boiling through the surface. either way, the angry soul in front of jennie looked nothing like her daughter.

and for the first time in 18 years, jennie felt as if she was looking in a mirror. except it wasn’t her own reflection, it was his.

“i wish i was never your daughter.” ivory spat, her voice loud enough to make heads turn. the crowd around them murmured, and jennie felt a knot form in her stomach. “so stop acting like my mom because we both know you don’t deserve that title.”

time seemed to freeze as ivory’s declaration reverberated in jennie’s ears, the world around them fading into the background. for a moment, all jennie could see was the hurt radiating from her daughter, and for the first time, she recognized the echo of her own past mistakes in ivory’s anger.

“you don’t mean it.” her mother immediately replied, eyes steeled and hardened against any more words her daughter would throw at her face. but ivory’s face twisted with raw emotion, and her voice was firm. her chest rose and fell harshly, clearly still worked up with emotion. before she brushed past her mother, snapping one final time at her before disappearing into the crowd.

“leave. me. alone.”

—

the video went viral in less than 24 hours. media outlets spread and circulated rumors and interpretations of it in every country and every language. everyone was asking the same thing: is jennie kim a mother?

jennie’s heart raced as her management team formed a protective barrier around her, pushing her toward the gate amidst the chaos. reporters shouted questions from all directions, their cameras flashing like strobe lights.

“jennie! is it true you have a daughter?” one reporter yelled, shoving a microphone in her face. “can you confirm the fight from last night?” another pressed, the crowd surging closer. “where is ivory?” a voice cut through the noise, and jennie felt her stomach drop. the constant barrage of questions felt like an insurmountable weight, pressing down on her while she fought to keep her composure.

jennie could feel panic setting in quickly as she tried to keep moving forward. she could see the gate ahead, but the closer she got, the more overwhelming the situation became. her team urged her on, their voices calm yet insistent, “keep moving, jennie. just keep walking.”

but her thoughts were racing in a different direction. where was ivory? the panic clawed at her insides as she scanned the crowd, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of her daughter’s familiar figure. each face in the throng blurred together, and the noise grew deafening.

“miss kim, please! can you comment on the video?”

“is it true you’re estranged from your daughter?”

“jennie, do your members know about any of this?”

she felt like she was suffocating, each question a reminder of the distance that had grown between her and ivory. “i can’t—i have to go back!” she managed to shout, but her management was relentless, practically pushing her through the throng as the gate loomed closer.

“no! we’re almost there,” one of her managers urged, keeping his hand firmly on her back. but with every step, the weight of worry grew heavier, anchoring her down. she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was abandoning her daughter, leaving her behind in a city that felt so foreign and chaotic.

“come on, just a few more steps!” another voice chimed in, but all she could think about was how she hadn’t been there for ivory when it mattered most.

they finally reached the gate, and as her team ushered her through the boarding process, she felt a swell of frustration. she wanted to turn back, to break free and search for ivory. but as they pushed her into the plane, she realized she was trapped—both physically and emotionally.

the flight attendants closed the door behind her, and as she settled into her seat, jennie buried her face in her hands, a wave of despair crashing over her. she felt completely helpless, torn between the world’s scrutiny and her desperate need to find her daughter. 

however, what jennie kim didn’t know was that ivory had taken an earlier flight right after leaving her mother in the club. and what the older idol also didn’t know was the mob waiting to crucify her daughter once she touched down in seoul.

—

ivory stood frozen, panic rising like a tide as the crowd surged forward. shouts and jeers rained down, and it felt as if the world had conspired against her. “holy shit,” the teenager muttered under her breath, pulling her cap below her eyes even further. it looked like a light show with how many cameras were going off. 

“form a wall!” one of her managers shouted, urgency lacing their voice. they quickly moved to surround her, creating a protective barrier against the hostile crowd. the team linked arms, shielding ivory from the hateful words and agitated crowd that sought to tear her down.

“back off! give her space!” another manager yelled, pushing back against the onslaught of reporters and fans. the team worked in unison, their presence a solid wall that blocked the chaos, but jane could still hear the shouts cutting through the air.

“why are you hiding behind your mother’s fame?” someone yelled, and it pierced through the clamor, sinking into ivory's chest like a dagger. “fucking brat, you don’t deserve jennie as a mother!”

with her heart racing and breath coming in jagged gasps, ivory felt the walls of her makeshift fortress closing in around her. the air felt heavy, and the shouting, combined with the crushing pressure of the crowd, sent her spiraling further into panic. the team’s efforts to protect her felt futile against the overwhelming tide of animosity.

“i can’t breathe,” she thought to herself, struggling against the tightness in her chest. she dug her nails into her palms, trying to steady herself as her management continued to shout for order. but their voices faded into a blur, the crowd's noise morphing into a deafening roar.

a few objects went flying over her head, thankfully missing her as the management team tightened their formation, creating a more impenetrable barrier around her. ivory’s heart raced as she felt the tension in the air escalate, the crowd growing more volatile with each passing moment. the sound of her own heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else.

“i can’t do this,” she thought again, feeling utterly lost. the noise felt like it was suffocating her, each shout morphing into a mocking echo of her own insecurities. “why did i do that?”

as the objects continued to sail over her head, she flinched at the sound of something glass shattering nearby. the world felt chaotic and terrifying, and in that moment, the isolation of her panic attack set in. it was as if a spotlight was focused solely on her, and every eye in the crowd bore witness to her unraveling.

“stay with us, ivory! you’re okay!” one of her managers urged, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, grounding her in reality. their presence was a lifeline, but the overwhelming emotions were threatening to pull her under again.

she wanted to scream, to lash out and throw things back at the reporters and people who tried to harm her. instead, she forced herself to breathe, to take in small gasps of air that felt sharp and painful against her chest. “just breathe, just breathe,” she repeated in her mind, willing herself to find some semblance of calm.

but the crowd wasn’t done. “is jennie your mother? are you ashamed of her?” came another shout, and ivory’s heart sank further. she felt the weight of that question, an accusation that cut deeper than any object thrown her way. 

did they think she was ashamed? did they think she wanted this?

tears streamed down her cheeks as she wrestled with the conflicting emotions inside her. it wasn’t shame she felt, but anger at how everything had spiraled out of control. she was overwhelmed, and she wanted nothing more than to disappear.

and whether or not she wanted to admit it or not, part of her even wanted her mother.

“listen to me, ivory! focus on my voice!” another manager shouted, pushing through the chaos to keep her attention. the urgency in their tone cut through her panic, grounding her even more. “there’s the door right there. the car is already out front!”

the brunette nodded, though the tears continued to flow as they began to guide her toward the exit. the crowd was still shouting, a cacophony of harsh words and intrusive questions. she felt a wave of shame wash over her, but she forced herself to keep moving, her management creating a protective wall around her as they rushed toward the car.

as soon as they reached the vehicle, her body sagged against the cool metal of the door, and she let out a shaky breath. the moment they closed the door behind her, the noise from the outside world faded to a muffled echo, leaving only the sound of her own ragged breathing.

but the reprieve was short-lived. as soon as the car pulled away, the floodgates opened. the panic that had held her captive in the airport spilled over, and ivory broke down, sobs wracking her body. the emotional turmoil she had bottled up exploded in a torrent of grief, regret, and frustration.

and a few short hours later, once jennie touched down in korea, she felt a different type of anger and pain watching the videos of her daughter’s arrival. the phone shook in her hand, her free one holding her pant leg in a vice-like grip. with knuckles of ivory, she immediately called her company while waiting to be let off the plane. the dial tone rang for a few seconds before the other line picked up.

"sue them all. every single one of them."

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CLOSED.

[aestheticaltcow]

No Phone Policy 6.0

The final part of No Phone Policy: I had a lot of different ending ideas for this, but low-key. The seasonal depression is hitting pretty hard, so we get an okay ending instead of a fire ending. There may be an epilogue, but don't quote me on that.

The Bear Masterlist

Previous Part

“What’s goin’ on, Y/N? You’re scaring me…” Mars begged as she kneeled beside you, brushing your unkempt hair out of your face. After what had happened with Carmy, you’d come to her downtown apartment. You didn’t answer her question. You closed your eyes and tried to take a breath, only for it to get caught in your throat.

Mars sighed and let you be in her guest room. 

Your Dad, on the other hand, had none of this. When Mars had updated him on what was happening, he was mentally preparing to go to prison for the rest of his life. He was going to kill Carmen Berzatto and happily admit to doing it. No one hurt one of his little girls and got away with it. 

He pulled up to you and Carmy’s house early that afternoon. He parked next to Carmy’s car and calmly approached the door. He remembered where the two of you hid your spare key and let himself in. 

“Carmen,” he called as he began walking upstairs, clenching and unclenching his fists as he vaguely remembered the layout of your home. He saw an open door and confidently walked in to see Carmy holding his granddaughter. Her eyes were wide as she furious sucked on a tie-dye pacifier, “Oh hey Marty. Y/N isn’t here..” Carmy trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how much you’d told your dad. 

“That’s Mr. Y/L/N to you, Carmen. Now, give me my granddaughter and start explaining what you did to my buggy,” he said authoritatively. Carmy sighed and handed Wolf off to him.

“Hi, gorgeous girl. You look just like your mommy- why is your mommy not here? Did your daddy do something stupid?” 

Carmy swallowed as he stood before Marty awkwardly, “We’ve been fighting… she has some fuckin’ postpartum thing. I don’t know- I wanted things to go back to the way they were, and I guess I pushed her too far. I didn’t hurt her- at least this time… she was ignoring me, and I grabbed her wrists, but this time, she fell down the stairs and ran off. She isn’t answering my calls, so I don’t know where she is.” 

Marty didn’t believe him for a dam second. “Be so happy I’m holding my granddaughter right now, or I’d beat the crap out of you, Carmen.”

Carmy nodded, knowing it was true, “Look, Mar- Mr. Y/L/N, I love Y/N more than I could ever. I’ve been killin’ myself over missing Wolf’s birth since she came out. I fuckin’ failed as a father and as a husband. I- I don’t deserve your daughter; I never have, and I never will. I just wanna talk to her. If she wants to leave, I’ll sign whatever- I just wanna see my daughter.” Carmy swallowed softly, suppressing the urge to cry.

~

Carmy dug through his closet that morning as Natalie sat on his bed, holding Wolf on her lap. “So, how do you want today to go?” she asked, wiping Wolf’s mouth with a tissue. Carmy huffed and pulled out a blue button-up shirt from the back of his closet. He was unsure if it would fit, but it was the ‘most court-appropriate,’ as Pete would say. 

“I dunno. Guess what were doin’ now?” he chuckled as he threw the shirt to the bottom of the closet still on the hanger. “Fuck it- I haven’t seen my wife in fuckin’ weeks. I’m fuckn’ tired of this shit. I want her to come home. I don’t wanna get divorced and fuckin’ share custody. I want her here, with Wolf, with me- as a fuckin’ family.” he scoffed as he moved to sit next to Natalie. “It took a year and a half to even get pregnant, and then I went and fucked everything up.” 

Natalie put her free hand on his shoulder and smiled sympathetically, “I can’t imagine what you’re goin’ through right now, Carmen, but I think if you stand there and speak from the heart, everything will work out.” 

Carmy shrugged and took Wolf from her lap. She laughed at the feeling of Carmy’s hands wrapping around her waist. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound, “You’re gonna have so much fun with Auntie Sugar… be a good girl, okay?” 

Carmy’s question was met with happy gurgling and a gummy smile. He smiled and kissed her before handing her back to Natalie, “Well, which me luck.” Carmy grinned as he excused himself.

~

When you entered the courtroom, Carmy felt his heart skip a beat. He didn’t realize how long it had been since he’d last seen you. You’d changed your hairstyle from what it had been to a shoulder-length bob; you also dyed it darker. Carmy swallowed when you took your jacket off. He hadn’t seen you in person for weeks, and as much as he tried, he could tear his eyes away from your chest. 

The judge called the hearing to start and began asking questions concerning the nature of the divorce. The words went through Carmy’s head, but he didn’t hear them. He was preoccupied with you. He noticed how you picked at your cuticles and kept crossing and uncrossing your legs and the glossy look in your eyes. You were on the verge of tears throughout the hearing, this was the last thing you’d wanted to do. Having your marriage dissolve. 

“Mrs. Berzatto, do you agree to the laid out terms?” you were brought back to reality when the judge had asked you the question. You looked at your lawyer who urged you to answer, you swallowed and finally looked at Carmy. When your eyes met his, everything flooded back. Meeting him at some bar all those years ago, your first date when he spilled both his and your wine glasses on you. His horribly awkward apologizes led him to info dump of how to get red wine stains out of cotton which led to the deeper conversation of how he’d been collecting denim with his brother since he was a teenager. Memories of laughing together, him attempting to help you with your homework, cooking dinner together at 3 in the morning, and just loving and being loved by him flood your mind. Being with Carmy was like being in a rom-com from the early 2000s.

“Y/N?” your lawyer asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You took a deep breath and tried to say something, but no words could come out. “I-uh.” You stammered, “I’m sorry.” You managed to get out before quickly walking out of the courtroom, ignoring your lawyer's call after you. 

Carmy watched you hurry out of the room and then turned his attention to the judge. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the door. “Be my guest, Mr. Berzatto.” The judge exasperated. Carmy nodded and quickly walked out of the courtroom to find you.

You were sitting on a bench just outside the courthouse with your face in your hands. He shoved his hands into his pockets and slowly walked to the bench. As he sat next to you, he heard you sigh. “Hi, Carm,” you said softly. 

“How’s you know it was me?” he asked playfully. He heard you scoff and watched you push your hands through your hair. 

“You always smell like smoke, spearmint, and old spice,” you answered, looking up at him. He chuckled, and you watched him adjust into a more comfortable position.

“You look good. How have you been?” Carmy asked as he turned to face you. You bit the inside of your cheek nervously. “Biting the inside of your cheek… am I making you nervous?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Really shitty… I’ve been absolutely dreading this day all week.” you laughed as you finally looked up at him. “Who schedules a divorce hearing on a Friday afternoon? Sorta a weekend killer, isn’t it?” 

Carmy laughed at the sentiment, “A bit. For what it counts… I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ve been thinking a lot and…” you took another breath as you pushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear. I don’t know what I want to do.” 

Carmy’s eyebrows knit together as he shot you a confused look, “Do for what?” 

“Obviously, I don’t know what I want for dinner.” You sarcastically joked, “I don’t know if I want to get divorced.”

“What brought that on?” Carmy asked shifting in his seat moving closer to you. You copied the movement and thought for a moment before explaining. 

“Wolf, in all honesty. I look at her and I see you.” you laughed, “I don’t know if you know but Natalie sends me at least three pictures of the two of you together everyday.” Carmy chuckled at that, he hadn’t asked Natalie to do that but he appreciated it in the moment. “I don’t want her to have divorced parents and I-” you paused for a second “I don’t want to get divorced.” 

“You don’t want to get divorced?” Carmy repeated, making sure he’d heard you correctly.

“I don’t want to get divorced.” You said again. The comment left Carmy dumbfounded, “I’ve been thinking a lot, and I guess I realized you are sorry for all the shit you did. I said some really mean shit to you, and while it was somewhat deserved, I’ve been reflecting a lot, and- I don’t wanna get divorced. Do you?”

Carmy laughed at the obscurity of the question: “You initiated this baby. When I asked you to marry me, I meant it till death.” You sniffled at Carmy’s words and reached out for him. Carmy grinned and moved to hug you. Having you in his arms felt foreign, not in a bad way, but in an unfamiliar way. 

It wasn’t an overnight ‘get back together’. It took work, and the two of you were ready to do it.

[linos-luna]

Cameras 🔪

Yandere!Han x Reader

Warnings: YANDERE, violence, toxic behavior, manipulation, spying, 18+

———————————————— •

You sit at your desk, staring down at the open notebook, your fingers tracing its edges, but your mind is somewhere else. The house is quiet, a little too quiet, and that familiar, uneasy feeling creeps over you again. Lately, it’s like someone’s been watching you, even when you’re sure you’re alone.

You try to shake it off, just like you’ve done every other time, telling yourself it’s nothing. But deep down, you know it’s not just paranoia. The little things have been adding up. Your stuff is always out of place, your jewelry box lid half open, a photo frame slightly crooked. And Han… well, you had mentioned it to him once, but he brushed it off.

"You're stressed, Y/N," he had said with that charming smile. "You need to relax."

That smile you love. Now it just feels off.

Your eyes drift to your bedside lamp. Something flashes, just for a second, but you see it. You sit up, heart skipping a beat as you reach for the lamp. Unscrewing the lampshade, you freeze when you see it. A tiny, blinking red light. A camera.

What the hell??

Your pulse quickens as you stare at the small device in your hand. Why is there a camera here? Who put it here?

But you already know. You just don’t want to believe it.

Your breath comes in short gasps as you tear through your room. Behind the framed pictures, inside the air vents, even inside your stuffed bear. More cameras. Everywhere.

You feel sick. How long has this been happening? How much has Han seen?

Without thinking, you grab your phone and dial Han. The anger in your voice barely masks the fear. “Han, we need to talk. Now.”

It doesn’t take him long to show up. His face is full of concern—or is it something darker? You can’t tell anymore.

“What’s going on?” he asks, stepping inside like nothing’s wrong. Like he hasn’t been invading every second of your life.

You hold up the camera, your hand trembling. “Why are there cameras in my room?”

For a split second, something flickers in his eyes. And then, just like that, his mask drops. The concern fades, and what’s left makes your stomach twist.

“I did it to protect you,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You don’t understand. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You want to scream, to cry, but all that comes out is cold, hard disbelief. "This isn’t protection, Han. This is control."

His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You don’t get to walk away from me."

Your body tenses as he steps closer, too close. His hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist before you can react. Pain surges through your arm as his grip tightens.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he growls, his breath hot against your face. “No one else will take care of you like I do. You don’t get to leave me.”

A wave of panic crashes over you, but underneath it, anger is building. You twist your wrist, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightens. The pressure makes your vision blur with tears.

“No, Han…” Your voice trembling with fury. “Y-you’re sick!”

Without thinking, you drive your knee up into his stomach, hard.

He lets out a grunt, doubling over just enough for you to yank your arm free. You stumble back, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding your system. But then Han straightens, his face twisting with rage.

Before you can react, his hand swings out, slapping you across the cheek. Pain stinging in your face, knocking you off balance. You crash into the dresser, books and other nicknacks scattering to the floor. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a bit in pain.

He’s standing over you now, breathing heavily, his fists clenched, but then something shifts in his expression. His eyes soften, a flicker of regret passing over his face as he takes in your terrified look.

“Baby, I’m sorry!” Han pleads, his voice breaking. “Don’t cry, please! I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

The room spins as you force yourself up, your legs trembling beneath you. Your hand brushes against the dresser, and you grab the nearest thing, a heavy lamp. Without a second thought, you throw it at him.

It misses, crashing into the wall behind him, but Han still flinches, staggering back as he dodges. His eyes widen, and for a moment, you see hurt flicker there.

“Y/N? W-why are you trying to hurt me?” His voice trembles, and you pause, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You’re the one getting violent!” you shout, the words tearing from your throat.

For a split second, he looks like he’s about to cry, and something inside you twists painfully. He just stands there, staring at you with those sad, broken eyes, making your heart ache.

He’s manipulating you. You know it, you *know* it, but that pang of guilt creeps in anyway. You have to shake it off.

“Stop it, Han. It’s not working. Not this time.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the softness drains from his face. The mask drops, revealing the cold, eerie calm underneath.

“Y/N…” he says, his voice unnervingly steady. “You know I love you. Everything I do is because I love you.” He takes a step closer, his eyes darkening. “And I’ll do anything for you.”

Han’s words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. His eerie calm sends a chill down your spine, but your legs won’t move. His eyes bore into yours, dark and unwavering, and you realize with a sickening jolt that there’s no reasoning with him. He’s beyond that now.

You back up slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Han… stay away from me.”

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he takes another step toward you, his voice lowering into something soft, almost tender. “I’m the only one who can protect you, Y/N. Don’t you see? No one else will love you the way I do.”

You feel the wall press against your back, cold and unyielding. There’s nowhere else to go.

“Please, Han,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”

For a moment, his face softens again, but you know it’s a lie, just like before. He closes the distance between you in two long strides, grabbing your arms and pinning you against the wall. His grip is bruising, his breath hot and uneven as he leans in, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Why can’t you just be mine?” he whispers harshly, his fingers digging into your skin. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

Panic surges through you, but your body feels frozen. You struggle against his hold, but he’s too strong. His hands move to your throat, not tightening, but just enough to make you realize how helpless you are in that moment.

Your vision blurs with tears as you gasp for air, your body trembling under his hold. This is it, you think. It’s the end. You close your eyes in defeat, bracing for the inevitable as his hands apply light pressure to your throat.

But then, just as quickly as it started, the pressure eases. You blink in confusion, feeling his grip loosen. When you open your eyes, Han’s expression has changed… his face etched with guilt, sadness pooling in his eyes.

“Baby…” he whispers softly, his hands still hovering at your throat, but no longer squeezing.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him look down at his own hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Tears start to roll down his cheeks, silent and slow, before he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I-I’m sorry…” he sobs, his voice breaking.

His arms wrap around you, almost crushing you against him, and the sudden shift feels jarring. You can hear him weeping, his breath catching between sobs. The warmth of his body, the way he clings to you, it's so different from the rage that had consumed him moments ago.

You stand frozen, your body still shaking, unsure of what to do. Was this another trick? Another way to manipulate you, to pull you back into his control? Or… was he actually genuine this time?

It was hard to tell, and that terrified you the most...

[dark-frosted-heart]

Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 3/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event.

(Alter)Keith indicates that it’s Alter!Keith pretending to be Keith.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. 

At the last estate we visited, the noble had an herbalist develop highly lethal poisons that he’d illegally sell to other countries.

It was the gravest crime I heard of today.

(And yet…)

Noble: I don’t know what you’re talking about! Your evidence was arranged to slander me.

(Alter)Keith: Are you kidding? Do I look like I have free time?

Noble: Ha, shameless. You’re getting rid of everyone you see as unfavorable since you can’t do anything else. The thought of you as the next king is terrifying. Are you unaware of how much you worry His Majesty?

(Alter)Keith: “I’m” well aware. However, you don’t need to take something so trivial so seriously. Actually, I think His Majesty would be happy to hear that I got rid of anyone that would hurt our country.

While the man raged like a demon, Prince Keith remained unbothered.

However, his voice was cold and it was like you could see the words “unpleasant”, “annoying”, and “depressing” written on his large back.

(How can the noble say something so harsh when the evidence is right in front of him?)

Behind Prince Keith, I was stewing in anger while holding back the urge to slap the noble.

At that moment, Prince Keith cleared his throat and cut the man off.

(Alter)Keith: I don’t wanna waste any more time, so we should wrap things up.

He looked at the noble and handed him a document.

The man’s face paled at its contents.

Noble: Stripped of…my land and title? No way, don’t mess around with me!

(Alter)Keith: There’s no need to yell, it’s the truth. Are you unaware of how serious the crimes you committed were? Even if you try to run away, you have no status, no money, nothing. You’ll be spending your days wishing for death.

Noble: Gh…Then we’ll just pretend this never happened. No one will go along with your lies anyway.

(...!)

The man rang a bell that was on the table and hired mercenaries stormed in.

(He thought something like this would happen…he’s basically admitting his guilt)

Alter!Keith: You stay close to the wall.

Emma: …Okay.

As the mercenaries charged toward Prince Keith with their swords drawn, he drew his sword with a mocking smile.

He proceeded to cut through their arms, legs, and stomachs without hesitation, and delivered bone-shattering kicks.

The way he fought was like that of a savage beast, a far cry from the man I knew.

Mercenary: Damn it…

(Ah…)

I met eyes with a mercenary. 

When I braced myself for an attack, a flying chair slammed the man against the wall.

Alter!Keith: Where’re your eyes at? You got the wrong opponent.  

(He saved me…Even though right now, I’m just a stranger and not someone important enough to protect)

(No…that doesn’t matter)

(What matters is if someone’s harmful to the nice Prince Keith or not. That’s what I think his criteria is)

After that, the mercenaries swung his sword at Prince Keith, but wasn’t even able to land a hit on him, and soon, we were the only ones left standing in the damaged room a beast had rampaged in.

Noble: Why…why did this happen…

(Alter)Keith: You were the one who knowingly committed a crime. Your refusal to accept it won’t change the facts.

In a fit of rage, the man slammed his head on the floor and then writhed in pain.

When I took in the horrifying scene, the man’s fists suddenly stopped shaking.

I could hear my heart pounding in the odd silence that followed.

Noble: …If what I did was a crime, then what about you? You killed your brother.

(Wha…)

(Alter)Keith: …

Noble: You couldn’t save him because you’re a failure? You killed him because you’re a failure. A good little brother who was loved by everyone was in your way. You’re just as much of a criminal as I am. So why weren’t you judged?

(You don’t know anything…How dare you say something so disgusting to a person who just lost someone important to him?) 

I was so angry I felt dizzy. My vision became spotty. I was hyperventilating. 

If I said anything, my anger would erupt like a volcano.

(But I can’t take it anymore)

Alter!Keith: …

(Eh…)

Prince Keith drew his sword again.

When he stalked toward the man on the floor, an alarm went off in my head.

(No…!)

I found myself moving when he raised his sword.

Noble: Gah…!

(...!)

When I hugged Prince Keith from behind to stop him, his sword struck the man’s shoulder.

(I was late…but he missed a vital spot. If I didn’t move, it wouldn’t have been his shoulder)

Alter!Keith: …Who killed my brother? Who’s a criminal? Say it again.

Noble: Eek, s-save me…

Alter!Keith: Now the greedy criminal’s playing the victim? Digusting. Why…do people like you get to live comfortably? Don’t use that guy as a distraction.

(He’s not used to hearing this)

(He’s been holding in more anger than I could ever imagine)

(Wicked Prince Keith exists for nice Prince Keith. He’ll never get used to it)

It was like my heart was torn out of my chest as I felt him trembling through my hold on him.

(Anger dulls the pain as it continues piling on)

(Prince Keith doesn’t know how much he’s hurting because of that anger)

(And all these words hurt the nice Prince Keith)

--

Emma: Huh, are you sure?

Alter!Keith: If you came from the future, then you got nowhere else to stay. Think of it as an apology for keeping you out so late.

Emma: …Thank you. For everything…

(I didn’t him to prepare a room for me)

By the time we returned to the castle, it was dark out.

After leading me to my room, Prince Keith immediately turned away.

He was heading in the opposite direction of his room and I found myself speaking up.

Emma: Um, Prince Keith.

Alter!Keith: Hm?

I didn’t expect him to stop and look at me.

Those dark circles under his eyes had gotten worse.

(Of course they were. Everywhere we went, people hurled words that made me want to cover my ears)

Emma: Where are you going?

Alter!Keith: Somewhere to relax. I’m not sleepy yet. You should get some sleep. I’ll play with you again tomorrow if you’re in the mood. It’s better to be with someone when you want a distraction.

(Does he think I’m feeling anxious over suddenly being transported into the past…?)

(After all that’s happened…How can he be so kind?)

(Even with a different personality, Prince Keith’s still Prince Keith. That’s why…)

Alter!Keith: What else do you want?

I grabbed Prince Keith’s arm as he started to walk away.

I was hesitant, but had a strong desire to not let go.

Emma: So much happened today that I don’t think I’ll be able to get any sleep. So…can I stay with you for just a little longer?

(I don’t want to leave Prince Keith alone when he’s like this)

After a moment of silence, my hand was removed.

And then Prince Keith crudely pulled me toward him.

Alter!Keith: …Sure. Since you invited me, you’re gonna make it fun for me, right?

--

(—I didn’t expect this)

[cosmic-ships]

Wow, been a hot second since that happened-

Sitting here in silence. I'm staring ahead, it looks like there isn't a thought behind my eyes but brain is going

"Holy shit you like this guy, you like him. You're so smitten. Wow our heart is beating really hard. Shit our face is on fire. Can we maybe just imagine for a second....a shy confession? Or maybe a 'We are accidentally physically close when we like each other and oops we kissed?"

Then me out loud just exclaiming:

F U C K

And scaring the shit out of my cat.

[lazylittledragon]

ok i swear i'm not going to talk about my breakup forever but the thing that just keeps bothering me:

i know that not getting what you need in a relationship is a COMPLETELY valid reason to end it but also. i feel like having a very vulnerable moment where i opened up about my struggles with intimacy and being relieved that i didn't have to keep doing things i wasn't comfortable with, then being dumped a YEAR later because of my lack of intimacy. is something i should be allowed to be very hurt by???

[moeblob]

You know, when I kept getting asked "so you didn't ever have severe pains before now?" in the hospital and I kept replying "I have a high pain tolerance" I meant it. However, there is only so much pain my tiny 4'9" body can hold... (aka I am sweating and in agony bc I'm getting told to use LESS severe pain meds so I don't rely on them too much and it is AWFUL)

[fearandhatred]

i always have to have something wrong with me at all times and there are always about fifteen different factors that could have caused that Something Wrong With Me so i can never fix it

[malka-lisitsa]

[strwbrymlkshake]

ohh I do want to pass away why am I so stupid

[camping-with-monsters]

WAKE UP Y’ALL (I scream at the top of my lungs at approximately 4:36 in the morning) I UPLOADED A NEW VIDEO‼️

[pepprs]

god my throat is raw from yelling / panicking. And part of me is wary wondering if it’ll happen again. omgggg

[adore-gregor]

rant