#I will absolutely condone this one (1) murder

[gigabyte-flare]

He Comes Alive (Part 7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: You awake in a top secret facility where you learn of Leon's true nature

Word Count: 5.9k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, monster f*cking, body horror, lactation kink, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

“Where’s Leon?”

“In this building.”

“Where am I?”

“At the BSAA North America headquarters in Washington D.C..”

“BSAA?”

“The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance.”

“Did Leon do something wrong?”

The man called Clive lets out a chuckle, leaning back in his chair, “that’s a loaded question.”

You feel a lump form in the back of your throat. You swallow it back, remaining silent in hopes that Clive will continue.

“Nine years ago, the president’s daughter was kidnapped by a cult in Spain called Los Illuminados. D.S.O. Agent Leon S. Kennedy was sent to rescue her. Both of them had become infected with a bioweapon-- a parasite the cult called Las Plagas. Leon had successfully removed the parasite from the president’s daughter, however…”

Clive pauses and you can feel your heart start to race at the implication, but still you press, “however, what?”

Clive clears his throat, “by the time the U.S. government realized Leon was still infected, he was long gone, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. He’s been on the run for nine years.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The hikers? That man at the festival? Your father? They’re all his victims,” Clive states.

“You’re lying!” you shout, standing up from the chair and slamming your hands onto the table.

“The plaga feeds on blood in order to survive; it seems to have an affinity to human blood, too.”

“You do realize this sounds absolutely insane, you’re making it sound like Leon’s a vampire or something.”

Clive chuckles again, “that honestly wouldn’t be that far from the truth,” you watch his eyes glance to your swollen belly, “I take it that’s Leon’s baby you're pregnant with?”

“Yes,” you reply curtly before sitting back in the chair, crossing your arms, “it is.”

“Shit…”

“What?”

Clive takes a deep breath before continuing, “I hate to tell you this, but your baby isn’t entirely human.”

Your eyes widen, “excuse me?! Now you’re fucking with me, this is insane!”

“Don’t you find it odd that Leon hasn’t taken you to a single prenatal appointment? Odd that your pregnancy seems to be progressing awfully fast?”

You stand back up again, angrily shaking your finger at Clive, “you are full of shit!”

“Deny it all you want, it’s the truth. Unfortunately you’re too far along in your pregnancy to safely abort, we’ll have to wait until you give birth so we can euthanize it; we’ll make sure it’s done humanely.”

“No one is coming near my baby! You’re just trying to scare me!”

You watch Clive reach into his jacket, pulling out a photo and placing it on the table in front of you. What you see immediately makes you pause and stare. It’s a poorly lit room, a person is tied to the support beam, covered in blood and what you assume is bite marks on their neck.

“This was taken in Leon’s basement after we apprehended him. This is why he kept the basement locked.”

You can’t take your eyes off the photo, especially after you realize you recognize the clothes; it’s a woman that had gone missing after coming out of a work Christmas party in Plymouth; you had seen a photo of her at the party on the news. You feel chills go up your spine.

"Unfortunately she died from blood loss when we were transporting her to our clinic," Clive states.

You swallow hard before making eye contact with Clive, “what the hell is going on…?” 

“I think it will be easier to show you, come with me,” Clive replies, standing up from his chair and motioning for you to follow him. 

You hesitate for a moment before you decide to follow, going back out into the hallway. The two of you eventually make your way to a single elevator, watching Clive swipe a card and then call the elevator. It beeps before the doors slide open and the two of you step inside. 

“How long have you been watching us?” you ask, figuring out that based on what Clive had said to you about Leon not taking you for prenatal check-ups, that someone was watching you and Leon’s every move.

“Shortly after Halloween, a police officer in Oakvale had reached out to the FBI to ask about Leon; in turn the FBI reached out to us. We had to ensure that it was definitely him before making our move.”

You nod, shifting uncomfortably on your feet and unconsciously rubbing your belly. After a couple minutes, the elevator door opens and Clive steps out, you follow him closely. Several men in lab coats turn and greet Clive.

“Director O’Brien! For what do we owe the pleasure?” one of the scientists asks before looking at you, “is this…?”

“Yes she is,” Clive replies, “has he been fed yet?”

The scientist looks back at Clive, shaking his head, “not yet, we were just about to get ready to.”

“Excellent, bring us to the observation room.”

“Of course, director.”

The scientist leads the way bringing you down another hallway that’s barricaded with several large steel doors. At the end, he turns to a door on the left, swiping a keycard and inputting a passcode, causing the door to slide open. You can’t help but feel like you somehow woke up in a science fiction movie. You pinch yourself again to make sure you’re definitely not dreaming.

Once in the room, the scientist pulls up the blinds on a large window and you see Leon, still in just his sweatpants, sitting on a basic metal bed hunched over, staring at the floor. Your heart seemingly skips as you rush up to the window, putting your hands on the glass.

“Leon…” you say softly.

From what you can see, there is nothing out of the ordinary about Leon and you start to reckon that they have the wrong man. Leon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Looking around the room, you notice there is a purple hue. You look up at the room’s ceiling and see that between each fluorescent light is a purple one; the same lights that you saw when you and Leon had gotten ambushed at home.

“What are the purple lights?” you ask, turning to Clive as you remove your hands from the glass.

“High powered ultraviolet lights. The plaga can’t stand sunlight. That’s why he only hunts at night.”

Suddenly, a walkie talkie that is sticking out of Clive’s outer jacket pockets goes off, “We’re ready to commence feeding if you are, director.”

Clive grabs the walkie talkie out of his jacket and replies, “proceed.”

On the left side of the room, a door slides open and a blindfolded man is pushed in and the door closes. The man practically falls onto his face. The man sits up on his knees and you see that his hands are bound behind his back.

“He’s a death row inmate,” Clive says, answering a question you hadn’t even asked, “we have a partnership with the penitentiary and they supply us with inmates that are going to be executed.”

Your attention is drawn back into Leon’s room when the UV lights are switched off and the fluorescent lights dim. Your eyes are drawn to Leon when he suddenly lifts his head, his eyes locked on the man that’s in the midst of a panic attack in the middle of the room. Before your eyes, you watch dark, inky veins start to spread over Leon’s exposed skin. Leon suddenly stands up, walking towards the man like a predator stalking its prey. Movement coming from behind Leon makes your breath hitch; a long, jet black tail comes out  of Leon’s back; the closest thing you can compare it to is a scorpion’s tail.

That isn’t all, four more appendages come out of his back, these looking like claws. You want to close your eyes, you want to run, but you can’t; your eyes remain locked on Leon. In a split second, Leon pounces onto the man, the man’s cries for help going unanswered as you watch Leon’s mouth latch itself onto his neck. The four claws latch onto the man as his tail whips itself back and forth as Leon feasts upon him. You suddenly feel your baby shift in your belly.

Leon suddenly stops, unlatching himself from his meal and looking directly at you. 

“Can he see us?” you ask, your voice shaking.

“No, it’s a two way mirror,” Clive replies, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

Leon stands up walking right up to the window, his eyes locked onto you. To your horror, you see his eyes are red, seemingly glowing in the dim light. His blood stained mouth hangs agape and you can see that all four of his incisors are elongated and sharp. Leon puts his hands onto the glass, his gaze still locked onto you.

“Angel?” he says, his eyes widening, “is that you?”

His tail moves back and forth as he stares at you and that’s when your baby inside you starts moving erratically, causing you to wince in pain as you grab your belly. 

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” Leon continues, his hands running down the glass, leaving trails of blood behind, “this is not how I wanted to show you my gift.”

“Gift?” you whisper, taking a couple of steps back from the window.

“He’s referring to the plaga.” Clive replies.

“Our little girl has the gift, too,” Leon continues, his right hand pets the glass as you watch his gaze shift to your belly, made even more unsettling knowing that he can’t see you, “isn’t that right, sweetie?”

Your baby shifts again, feeling your baby’s foot go up your rib cage, causing you to yelp as you once again grab your swollen belly. 

There’s no way your baby is reacting to him right? Right?

You watch as Leon’s crimson eyes narrow, one of his fists balling up and punching the glass, causing it to crack. You scream, stumbling backwards and falling to the floor as Leon throws another punch at the glass, cracking it further. Clive rushes over, picking you up off the floor as he grabs his walkie talkie.

“Turn those damn UV lights back on! NOW!” he shouts into the walkie talkie as he pulls you out of the observation room.

You turn and look back as the UV lights are powered back on, Leon letting out the most inhuman scream you’ve ever heard in your life and in an instant, you watch his grotesque appendages retreat back into his body as he stumbles away from the glass, clutching his head with his hands.

As you and Clive retreat back to the elevator, Leon’s cries of your name fill the halls.

You have no idea how much time has passed since the incident with Leon. Clive had you relocated to a more comfortable room at the facility; it has furniture, a small refrigerator and a window to look outside. You’re sitting in a rocking chair next to the window, rubbing your pregnant belly unconsciously as you watch a gentle snowfall outside. Over and over, your brain plays out the last few months since you returned home from dropping out of college.

Every little thing you had noticed that was odd suddenly made sense: eating the rarest meat imaginable, that one time you thought he had sharp teeth when he bit into his burger, him suddenly going into the basement, him getting up in the middle of the night to ‘check traps,’ the day they found what was left of your father, that smile he had on his face was burned into the back of your mind. Your eyes unconsciously widen at another revelation; the red eyes you saw in your window that night, they were Leon’s.

“It was him… he was the B.O.W. the whole time…” you whisper to yourself, a single tear rolling down your cheek. 

The sound of the door opening startles you and you watch Clive walk in, giving you a gentle smile and wave as he steps into the room.

“I just spoke with your mother,” Clive says, taking a seat on your bed across from where you sit, “I let her know you were experiencing complications in your pregnancy and that you had to be taken to a specialist in D.C., so she at least knows where you are. I didn’t mention Leon to her.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly, letting out a sigh as you return your attention back out the window.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

“Empty? Lost? I’m not sure what to feel… I feel like the last few months have been a cruel lie,” you reply honestly, wiping more tears that run down your face away with the back of your hand.

“I know and I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard this has been for you.”

“Is it true that you can’t cure him?” you ask, looking back over at Clive.

Clive nods, “unfortunately. The parasite has completely taken over his body, if we try to remove it, he will die.”

“How… how is he?” you ask, not really sure you actually want the answer.

“He’s refusing to feed. We’ll have to execute him sooner than we intended,” Clive replies, leaning forward, resting his forearms onto his legs.

“Execute?!”

Clive nods, “yes, he’s too dangerous to keep alive. Our hope was to study the plaga inside of him before putting him out of his misery, but he’s making that difficult.”

“Is there any chance I could say goodbye to him before he’s executed?”

Clive stares at you puzzled for a moment before replying, “I believe I can have that arranged.”

“Good,” you say with a soft sigh of relief.

Despite everything, you still love him. You still love the baby growing inside of you. The thought that both of these things that you love so dearly are going to get taken from you absolutely kills you.

“I’ll make sure to come get you when that time comes,” Clive says, standing up from the bed and walking over to the door, “don’t hesitate to give us a holler if you need anything.”

You believe another few days passes, you awake one morning to the sound of wind howling; a blizzard seems to have come in. Just after you get yourself dressed and cleaned up, Clive once again comes into your room.

“It’s happening tonight,” Clive says, his look solemn.

You acknowledge him with a nod before following him out of your room and back to the elevator that brings you to the underground research facility. This time, instead of bringing you to the observation room, Clive brings you to the door leading to Leon’s containment chamber.

“Remember,” Clive begins, causing you to draw your attention to him, “we’ll be watching. We won’t let him hurt you.”

You nod as the door to his containment chamber slides open. You step inside the small chamber inside the door, it sprays some kind of mist on you which you suspect is some kind of sanitizer. After that, the final door opens and you see Leon, laying on his back staring at the ceiling. You step inside, listening as the door slides shut and locks, making your heart jump in nervousness. At first, Leon doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he continues to stare at the ceiling.

“Leon?” you finally speak up, your voice soft.

Leon lifts his head, staring at you for a moment before he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, practically running to you. He places his hands on your shoulders, looking at you in disbelief.

“Angel! You’re ok, I’ve been so worried!” he exclaims before planting a kiss onto your forehead.

Now you’re able to get a good look at him. His skin is extremely pale and you can see the faint, inky black veins all over his exposed skin. It reminds you of the time you had gone to the festival, before he had killed that man behind the fairground. Now you know why Leon had looked so terrible that day.

“I’ve been worried about you, too,” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact with him.

“What’s wrong Angel? It’s just me,” Leon coos, his hand gently grasping your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

His gaze shifts down to your belly, a smile slowly overtaking his lips as he stares down in awe; once again feeling your baby move inside you.

“My God… you’ve gotten so big! Our little girl is growing like a weed!” he says, the excitement evident in his voice as he places a hand on your belly, rubbing it slowly.

A hint of sadness hits you, knowing that as soon as your baby is born, it’s going to be humanely euthanized, but you don’t want to do anything that could cause Leon to lash out, so you keep that knowledge to yourself. 

“How do you know it’s a girl?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“She told me,” Leon explains, his gaze shifting back to you, “because of our gift, we are constantly connected.”

You feel your pulse pick up, feeling your baby continue to writhe inside you as Leon continues to rub your belly.

“I’m going to give you the gift, as well. We’ll be together in both body and mind. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Before you can even process what he just said to you, you notice there’s a sudden change in the lighting; your eyes dart around to see what changed when you notice the subtle purple hue is gone. The UV lights have been turned off. You want to panic, but you take deep breaths to try to keep yourself calm. You reckon it must be a mistake, they’ll turn the UV lights back on in any second. However, more agonizing seconds go by and you realize that they are not coming back on.

Leon slowly looks up, a smirk spreading across his lips when he realizes the UV lights are off, “well… that's convenient.”

He closes his eyes, rolling his neck and shoulders as you watch in horror as the dark veins on his skin get even darker. When he opens his eyes again, you are once again met with the crimson eyes that have haunted your subconscious since the day you saw Leon from the observation room. But now that he’s right in front of you, everything inside you is telling you to get away. You take a couple steps back away from him, his smirk immediately turning into a frown.

“No, no, no! It’s ok, I won’t hurt you, Angel,” he pleads, reaching out to you and grasping your upper arms to stop you from moving away, “I just want to take care of you.”

You watch as his tail snakes out from behind him, moving between the two of you. The end of it goes under your shirt and you watch as the blade-like end of his tail moves upwards, slicing through your shirt. Once your shirt is completely sliced open, his fingers gingerly push the remains of the shirt off you, exposing your swollen breasts to him. He brings one hand up, brushing one of your sensitive nipples under his thumb, causing a small white bead of liquid to come out before running down your breast, pooling onto your pregnant belly.

“Aw look, you’re making milk. Our little girl will need blood, not milk. No matter, I’ll make sure it won’t go to waste,” Leon says before leaning down, wrapping his mouth around the leaking nipple and sucking hard.

“L-Leon!” you cry out, trying to push him away.

You look over at the mirror, knowing that there are people watching. Does Leon know there are people watching? You want to cry out for help, to get someone to come get you out, but you can’t; you don’t want to risk invoking Leon’s fury. After what seems like an eternity, Leon unlatches himself from your breast, his crimson eyes staring down at you lustfully. A grin slowly forms on his face, showing off his long, sharp canine teeth.

He grasps you gently, coaxing you over to his bed where he spins you around, forcing you to bend over onto the bed with your knees on the floor. You rack your brain over what on Earth he’s doing when you feel a very sudden sharp pain in your shoulder, causing you to scream. You then hear a low moan; Leon’s mouth is latched onto your shoulder, his fangs sinking deep into your flesh as blood starts to pour out from the wound. 

He releases his mouth from you briefly, his breaths heavy as he grips onto your waist, his hands then reaching around to undo your belt and pants, “you taste just as divine as I remember, Angel,” he purrs into your ear.

You start to question mentally what he’s talking about until you recall back to the first night you stayed at Leon’s house when the two of you had sex for the first time. He wasn’t just eating you out that night. He was feeding off you. This newest revelation causes a sudden wave of nausea to come over you, causing you to gag. You quickly cover your mouth with one hand while the other grips the sheets on his bed, tears burning the corners of your eyes, threatening to pour out. 

He bites back down into your shoulder as his hands make quick work pulling down your pants and underwear, his fingers rubbing your slit slowly, gathering up the slick of your body’s arousal on his fingertips. While still feeding off you, he pulls down his sweatpants and you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance. Your eyes widen when you watch two of the claw-like appendages stab down onto the bed in front of you while the other two wrap around your waist, trapping you against him; you feel one of his hands rest on your hip while the other grips your hair, pulling your head back. It takes everything in you not to scream.

With a quick thrust of his hips, he buries his cock inside you, unlatching his mouth from your shoulder with a loud moan as his grip on your hair tightens. You cry out at the feeling of him practically splitting you in half; he feels so much larger than you remember. There’s also another sensation inside you, one you don’t recognize at all. It’s almost hard for your mind to even describe; like a thousand fingers are stroking your inner walls and your cervix and with each quick thrust of Leon’s hips, it feels amazing. You can’t help but let out a loud moan as Leon pistons himself into you, hurtling you towards your release. 

“That’s it Angel, you’re doing so well for me. My perfect mate,” he purrs as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, the hand on your hip gripping so tight that it’ll surely leave bruises, his other hand running down your neck before resting onto your other shoulder, “now, be a good girl and take my gift.”

Against your better judgment, you turn your head to look at him. Leon is opening his mouth and you watch as four mandibles come out from the depths of his mouth and you can hear something squealing from inside his throat. No longer able to put on a brave face, you start to scream, thrashing your body in a desperate attempt to get away from him. The strange sensation you noted inside you suddenly starts to sting as you try to get yourself off him and you feel the claws wrapped around your waist start to cut into your skin as they grip you tighter. 

The door to Leon’s room suddenly opens and Clive along with two men with tactical gear and guns swarm in. Clive holds up a large UV flashlight, shining it directly at Leon’s head. Leon roars, the mandibles going back inside his mouth as he falls backwards, freeing you from his grasp. You quickly pull your underwear and pants back up before running over to Clive, using your arms to cover your exposed breasts. Clive positions you behind him as the two men move to either side of Leon, their guns drawn and pointed at him. One of the scientists then rushes inside the room, Clive turns his head to address him.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Clive shouts at the scientist right before the UV lights turn back on.

You wince when you hear the inhuman cry come from Leon as he scrambles to crouch himself into the corner of the room, gripping his head and trembling.

“We just wanted to see what he would do, that’s all!” the scientist says, pleading with Clive.

“She nearly got infected! Was that part of your plan?!” Clive shouts, walking up to the scientist, getting in his face.

“Well, no…”

“The lead researcher will be hearing about this, now get out of our way, I need to take her back to her room,” Clive continues, practically shoving the scientist out of the way as he gently grasps your upper arm to lead you out of Leon’s containment chamber.

As you walk out, you turn and look at Leon, who’s still crouched in the corner; his eyes are locked onto you, a smirk spread across his lips.

Leon stays seated in the corner of his containment chamber for the majority of the day, only moving to relieve himself in the toilet inside his containment chamber. Scientists have been in and out of his containment chamber as well, almost as if they’re preparing for something, though he didn’t have the slightest clue of what that could be until the lead researcher comes in with his young assistant, who looks vaguely familiar to Leon. 

The lead researcher takes Leon’s vitals and a blood sample, staying completely still through it all, watching the assistant take a seat on Leon’s bed, taking notes with a clipboard and pen.

“Dr. Jacobs, a question if I may?” the assistant suddenly asks.

“Go ahead, Chambers.”

Chambers. Rebecca Chambers. That’s why I recognize her…

Rebecca was a former member of S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team prior to the Raccoon City outbreak incident on September 30, 1971; Leon’s first day as a police officer. A part of him wishes he had died that day.

“How did he manage to infect the fetus? I thought you said it was transmitted via the bloodstream, hence why he bit her.” she asks, setting the clipboard and pen down onto the bed next to her.

Dr. Jacobs swallows hard as he turns to address her, “we believe there are plaga larvae in his semen, which fused with the embryo upon fertilization even though we found no larvae in the semen samples we were able to get. Somehow… the plaga inside him can control when a larva is released… absolutely extraordinary, a real shame we’re executing him tonight.”

Leon subtly raises an eyebrow.

“What about the baby?” Rebecca presses.

“The baby will be humanely euthanized upon birth, the BSAA wants to put the plagas parasite to bed for good even though the child could provide valuable data. I tried to fight it but O’Brien wouldn’t budge.”

What?

Leon remains calm on the outside, but on the inside, he is panicking. He has to protect his offspring at all cost, but how? That answer comes on a silver platter when he watches Rebecca stand up from the bed, grabbing the clipboard but leaving the pen behind on his bed. He waits a couple minutes to see if they realize she had left the pen in here. When he’s confident they’re not coming back in, he stands up, walking over to the bed and collapsing onto it, clutching the pen in his hand as he lays down. He turns, his back facing the camera that’s on the opposite wall pointed towards the bed. 

During his stint in the military after surviving the Raccoon City outbreak, Leon picked up a few tricks, one being how to make lockpicks out of just about anything. He meticulously takes the mechanical pen apart, using the metal parts to make a crude lock pick, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand.

Later that evening, the door to his containment chamber opens and Dr. Jacobs comes in along with another man in tactical gear with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder and a pistol strapped to his leg. Dr. Jacobs is carrying a metal folding chair, which he hands to the guard for him to set down onto the floor after opening.

“Sit,” the guard orders Leon, pointing at the chair.

“Yeah, yeah…” Leon replies, standing up from his bed and sitting in the chair.

“Hands behind your back. Now,” the guard barks.

Leon does as he’s ordered, putting his hands behind his back around the back of the chair. The guard walks behind him, handcuffing his wrists together. Unbeknownst to the guard, Leon has his makeshift lock pick wedged between two of his fingers, completely concealing it. The guard walks back around, standing in front of Leon as Dr. Jacobs prepares a syringe of bright green liquid. Slipping the lock pick out, he begins to pick the lock on his cuffs.

“It pains me to do this Leon, it really does,” says Dr. Jacobs as he approaches, the guard moving to the side of Leon to let him through, “you were a brilliant agent. I admit this will not be pleasant, but you won’t suffer for long, I promise.”

Leon manages to free himself just as Dr. Jacobs kneels down to inject him with the deadly serum in the syringe. In the blink of an eye, Leon snatches the syringe from Dr. Jacobs, stabbing it into his neck and pushing the syringe. Dr. Jacobs’ expression contorts as he collapses onto the floor, his body going into a seizure in what Leon imagines is the painful thralls of death.

The guard curses as Leon stands up from his chair, pointing his AK-47 at him to shoot. However, Leon’s too quick, he side steps and grabs the AK-47, using the strap slung around the guard’s body to strangle the man, all the while, the gun is still firing, shooting out all the lights in the ceiling, including the UV lights. Inky black veins quickly envelope Leon’s body and his eyes shift into the deep crimson as Leon bites into the guard’s exposed neck, drinking as much blood as he can in a short period of time.

He then kneels down to Dr. Jacobs’ lifeless body, searching his pockets to find a fob. With this fob in hand, the door to the containment chamber opens, allowing Leon to make his escape. He can sense his offspring is several floors above where he is, so he quickly finds the elevator, the fob allowing him access to it. 

When the elevator doors open, several guards are waiting for him, guns drawn. In an instant, Leon’s tail and back appendages emerge and he practically leaps out of the elevator pinning one of the guards down and ripping out his throat while his tail whips around, decapitating and fatally stabbing the other guards. Just when Leon thinks he’s in the clear, he hears more footsteps coming towards him. He looks up, blood dripping from his mouth and chin and finds Director O’Brien with about 10 more guards behind him.

“I should have known you wouldn’t go quietly, Leon,” Director O’Brien says, crossing his arms.

“Where is my mate?” Leon growls, standing up to face them, using his back claws and tail to make himself look bigger.

“In a place you won’t get to, Leon. You’re not leaving this hallway alive,” Director O’Brien replies.

“We’ll see about that.”

Leon begins to step forward, his legs and arms mutating, turning black like his claws and tail. His fingers become more claw like and his legs contort to become more insect-like; his feet also transform into three toed claws. His jaw splits open to reveal rows of sharp elongated teeth, his four incisors still longer than the rest. His four mandibles also come out of his mouth and he lets out an inhuman roar as he charges towards Director O’Brien and the guards. This is the furthest Leon’s ever let himself transform and he’s honestly eager to see what he can do.

The guards shoot at him, but the bullets do little to no damage to Leon as he rips through them like paper with his razor sharp claws, blood and guts spilling everywhere. In the chaos, Director O’Brien slips away, running down the hall. Leon sees this and quickly gives chase, what’s left of the guards strewn all over the white marble floor in his wake. Director O’Brien comes around the corner with his angel, his mate in tow, both of them stopping in their tracks upon seeing Leon.

Leon opens his mouth wide, letting out a loud hiss as he glares at Director O’Brien. Unfortunately in his current state, he’s unable to speak. His crimson stare shifts over to his angel, who to his dismay, is visibly frightened.

Angel, don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. I could never hurt you…

He curses internally about not being able to give her his gift; if he had been successful, he would be able to communicate with her easily. His gaze then shifts to her swollen belly, sensing his offspring is strong and healthy inside her. He watches as she grips her belly, flinching.

“Back off, Leon!” Director O’Brien shouts, pulling out a small flashlight from inside his dark green coat and turning it on, pointing its purple beam directly into Leon’s face. 

Leon, turns his face away, growling as he feels the light sting his mutated parts. His tail whips forward, slicing off the hand holding the UV flashlight before he turns back to Director O’Brien, stalking towards him and using one of his clawed hands to pick him up and pin him against the wall. Letting out a guttural growl, his mouth and mandibles open wide only stopping when he feels his mate’s hands on his arm.

“Leon, don’t kill him, please!” she cries, “don’t kill him and I’ll… I’ll go with you…”

His mutated mouth closes, turning to her to see her bloodshot eyes staring up at him, pleading with him. He lets out a soft purring sound, turning back to Director O’Brien and abruptly dropping him. He falls to the floor with a gasp, Leon’s attention back onto his mate as he grabs her by her wrist. She looks up at him, the fear evident in her eyes as she starts to panic, pulling against his grasp as she hyperventilates. 

Angel, don’t do this… it’ll be ok, I promise…!

She then faints; Leon’s quick reflexes catch her before she collapses onto the floor. He picks her up into his arms bridal style, stalking into one of the rooms that has a window. Using his tail, he smashes the window open, the blizzard raging outside now blowing snow into the room. Leon leaps out of the window, carrying his mate into the stormy winter night.

Part 8

[count-horror-xx]

I think people hate on Jet WAY to fucking much. Like yall act like he didn't witness his parents get brutally burned alive as well as his whole village go up in fucking flames. He makes like two mistakes and yall go "yeah THATS public enemy #1"

Don't get me wrong obviously I don't condone him flooding an earth kingdom village cus it was invaded by the fire nation that I can agree with was too much 😭 but omg don't you think if your whole life was burned down you'd be a little fucked up in the head??? And be basically blinded by your own hatred for those who murdered your family??? Like I said what he did was absolutely wrong but to call him like evil reincarnated is a little far, bro was just a misguided kid who hated his oppressors more then loving the ones he swore to protect, but in the end he did realize he needed to focus to protect the ones he loved more but he ended up dying for it. And that's why no one really cares about his character growth and it honestly irks me 😭😭

Edit: not to mention when he found out zuko & iroh were firebenders, he didn't know thier intentions. Obviously we did and knew they weren't planning anything but he didn't. In his mind he probably thought they were fire nation spies trying to invade ba sing se and that's why he attacked them.

[thenamessparkplug]

The Bad, The Worse, and The Downright Idiotic

A Wiatt Nicholson Analysis

YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I HAVE WAITED TO VERBALLY KILL THIS DUDE. I HAVE BEEN STRANGLING HIM WITH MY MIND SINCE THE COLLAPSE OF THE BUILDING. AND THIS IS WHY.

DISCLAIMERS!! : One, I have absolutely nothing against any of the writers on this show! You all are doing a fantastic job for how small this series is and I do genuinely adore the work you guys do < 3. Second, I want to make it clear that I do not condone anything Sara has done on her own terms. And she has done bad things on her own terms. She has done horrible things and I do not think that should be brushed under the rug. I do, however, believe her to be redeemable. 

(side note I did get a lil sidetracked when talking about sara, whom I also have strong feelings towards and'll prolly get her own rant in the future)

What has Wiatt done?

Now Wiatt seems to have his heart in the right place, however good intentions hardly amount to much when your actions directly cause death, suffering, and irreversible damage.  

He can’t tell that so much of what’s going on is because Litho knows he’s going to lead people directly into his own plans. This especially became evident in the last episode. Did he not remember the risks of anything relating to Litho?? Why on earth would he think it was safe for Pen, Lisa, or even Hayden whom narrowly survived? 

I know by this point to take everything character’s say with a grain of salt (and I know this isn’t directly Wiatt’s fault either), but I really wanna get into what Hayden said while yelling at Wiatt. He states that since he arrived at dreamworld, someone has gone missing every week. Wiatt has worked here for at least a year. Even considering taking a month off for the collapse fiasco, that is 47 weeks. 47 people. THAT IS INSANE. Even cutting that number in half for hyperbole’s sake that’s still 23 missing people since Wiatt started. Jesus christ man. 

What else has he done? He broke Starlight after recklessly jumping into a hole, got wtdw!rainbott seemingly mindwiped, recorded entirely private and frankly unrelated moments and UPLOADED them, been responsible for the deaths of his coworkers (to name a few anyways), and what does he have to show for it? A police station that thinks he’s insane. He couldn’t possibly have been more tactless trying to convince them to begin an investigation. 

It seems he thinks that because the people he’s against are bad, that automatically makes him good - in the right - but he is so blinded by his sense of a binary wrong and right he fails to see the horrible things he himself has caused. 

Against the Antagonist

I wanna talk about Sara for a second. From what we’ve learned thus far, and I know we haven’t gotten all that many Sara scenes, almost all of what Sara does seems to be attempting to clean up a mess she made many years ago, in comparison to Wiatt who does absolutely nothing but stir the pot.

Sara is stuck here; she is bound to Litho and cannot escape no matter how hard she wants to. She had friends. She’s doing what Litho wants because she has to. We saw what happened when she tried to defy him. Wiatt is only here because of one connection, but could literally leave whenever he wants no harm no foul.

Now the Norman thing I am curious about, because so far, I can’t figure out why 1. she killed him in the first place and certainly 2. why she kept the footage of it. She never seemed to hate Norman, if anything she would be against him for clearly being infatuated with Andrew, and I can’t really blame her for that? I mean nothing is enough to justify murder, but it wouldn’t be in cold blood. I’m also assuming this is before Dreamworld Entertainment due to the fact that Norman seemingly had no involvement. Another odd thing not only was he rebuilt to look exactly like he did when he was alive, but he retained all of his memories as well, and was given a higher power among the staff of Watchful Eye Toys, with memory control himself.

Whatever happened during his death must have been important.

But back to Wiatt. All of Sara actions, albeit terrible, were calculated and she did what she believed was necessary. Wiatt has no concept that his actions have consequences, so all he does is messy things up, making everything far worse than it needed to be.

Why should I care? (Comparison to Eric)

At the very beginning when Eric is first introduced, we are given no reason to care at all about him. I mean, we know he was friends with Lewis but that’s not enough to really grow any attachment to him. We start learning little facts about him, but when it really clicks is during the secret tapes.

Seeing Eric outside of the main plot, his real personality, his hopes, his dreams, his struggles starting from a young age up until how he is today. We’re given the chance to build connections with him and see him as a real person, a character with depth. Knowing his motivations and what built him makes it so easy to grow extremely attached, making any horrific things hit much harder.

Now moving back to Wiatt, we really don’t get to see the real him. We see him once interacting with Lewis, but even that was simply for plot relevance. We really know nothing about him. Even his transition, which would be so easy to capitalize on seeing as the viewership of Dreamworld is highly LGBTQ+, and many people would relate. But we get more about Mike’s transition than Wiatt, and he’s only ever had one real scene as himself.

That’s not even dipping into who Wiatt is as a person. What are his passions? Who are his loved ones outside of just Lewis? What was school like for him? What got him into the mechanic business? Who took care of him after his parents died? I understand this can be hard to smoothly integrate into a story but look how well it worked with Eric’s tapes.

Now this is getting much more into the writing side of the show, but I think something that's kind of lacking is character building filler. As much as having a concise plot is nice, without scenes or even full episodes dedicated to fleshing out our cast, it makes it really difficult to connect.

There’s so so much of his character to explore that we just never get into, and it kinda makes it hard to root for him when there’s nothing backing his character. Just like, a few more tapes of Wiatt would be plenty, something outside of Lewis. I would love to see his relationships with other characters (you cannot build a sense of character off one single relationship), how he views himself, just anything.

Its incredibly difficult to analyze a character when they seemingly have no depth.

In Conclusion

I am not a fan of Wiatt as it currently is (understatement of the year), but good god am I persuadable. I just want Dreamworld to give me a reason to root for him. Something to sympathize with, relate to. Have him improve. Allow him to realize his mistakes, and become a better person for that.

I don’t think he’s a lost cause.

But give me a reason to believe that.

[lazulifoster]

We Need To Talk About Micah Bell

I want to get this off my chest: Theres a lot of talk about  “Micah Bell Bad” “Liking Micah is a red flag” “I HATE HIM” “I can’t respect people who like him” “I don’t see the appeal”

FULL STOP

You know what’s a red flag to me?  When people get sanctimonious about a FICTIONAL villain.

I like Micah. Do I love the actions of Micah Bell? (Genocide, femicide, grand larceny, sadism, misogyny, racism, arson, vandalism, etc) Clearly not--as a woman and an indigenous Chicana, I would never allow someone like Micah Bell in my presence, let alone speak to me. But lest we forget,  MICAH IS A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN THE RED DEAD UNIVERSE I am allowed to appreciate a phenomenally written and complex villain like Micah,

I am allowed to think his long, blond, messy hair and voice are attractive! I am allowed to thank the stars for Peter Blomquist’s masterful acting which brought to life one of the most divisive characters of all time. I just hate seeing people enjoy things--hell, even write things for Micah--and get absolutely bombarded with “Well I’M a good person because I don’t like that character and you’re BAD if you disagree” I won’t stand for it when people will bend over backwards about how Dutch or even Arthur are inherently better characters to appreciate. UMMMMMMM????? DUTCH? Arthur is different, CORRECT, because he redeems himself at the end but lets not pretend he wasn’t a jerk for the beginning of the game (Downes, anyone?)

BUT DUTCH? The man who left Arthur to DIE ON THE GROUND? Who picked Micah above reason and his own chosen family that he knew for years? Dutch, the true villain of both Red Dead 1 and 2? No shade for liking him but lets call it like we see it--If Micah is so bad, lets keep it real and acknowledge everyone (EXCEPT TILLY, LENNY, AND BB KIERAN) were not perfect angels. Look--Y’all don’t have to agree, not even expecting you to--but I’m honestly so bored of people stanning other characters who are just as bad or worse than Micah Bell but don’t receive backlash for it? If people were condoning these actions in real life, yeah--I’d have a big f*cking issue with it, but fiction is meant to be a safe space, isn’t it?  If you don’t like something, I certainly won’t force you, but my goodness, leave the sanctimonious, holier-than-thou b*llshit at the door please. Its a videogame about thieves and murderous cowboys for goodness sake.

[wordsbymae]

King of the Outlaws (Alwyn) Alphabet 18+

Hey everyone! Hope your weekend was lovely! I'm planning on doing part 2 for Alwyn and the reader but in the meantime, while I watch a documentary, I thought I should write up his alphabet. Alwyn is a clear fan favourite so I hope this lives up to the hype.

Also, I hope I don't need to say this but I will just in case, I do not condone these sorts of actions!!! Or any actions in any of my work. This is pure fiction. The yandere aplhabet is not mine!

TW: This one is gonna be pure filth. Fem!reader, insecurities, insecure thoughts, smut, implied murder and violence, implied corruption kink, reader has got big boobies :), term whores used as a historical term, oral sex. Please use discretion!!!

Minors turn away now, please!

Let's get into it!

Part 1

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I think I have a thing for strong, beefy, tough, rough and somewhat aggressive yanderes being kinda dumb and just so in love with their darlings. Cause this man is all that and more. He is still cunning and witty, being able to plan the perfect heist or the perfect kidnapping. He is an expert manipulator, liar and pickpocket. He can run across rooftops like it's nothing and can outrun any guard after him. He's vicious with his daggers, silently assassinating anyone who is in his way and he is an expert swordsman (not in the way he knows the names of the moves just in the way he knows how to kill someone quickly and cleanly). But!!!!!! he just becomes this dumb, obsessed puppy whenever you're around.

Above I said he was an expert at kidnapping people. Yet, he failed every single time when he tried to take you and you had no clue. He would get distracted when he was meant to steal you cause the way the sun hit your hair made you look like you had a halo and he just forgot he was meant to yank you away. Or his men were meant to do it but at the last minute, he thought they would hurt you so he just tackles them when they go to do it. Also, he could have very easily stolen you from your room (despite what he said) but he would get stuck just lovingly staring at you from the tree he was meant to use as a ladder to your balcony. By the end of the week his men know he doesn't want to kidnap you for ransom and that he's obsessed with you instead, I see them encouraging him and trying to lift his mood, coming up with plans like "we can kidnap her father and threaten to kill him if she doesn't marry you" or " what if we threaten a noble to ask for her hand and at the last minute we swap you at the altar". he just groans and lays his head in his arms. He thinks he's never going to marry you and each mug of ale makes him think that the first plan isn't too bad at all. Until it's announced any man, noble or not, can ask for your hand as long as they can afford your bride price. To him, it's the ultimate jackpot. If he is able to get enough money (easy for him) he can marry you the honest way, and he can kid himself into believing you wanted him.

If people thought he was violent before it was nothing compared to the bloodshed he caused during that week. He went absolutely feral, robbing every single wagon, caravan and traveller who was stupid enough to journey through his woods. He does not care at all about the suffering he's causing (he used to let some people go, but now he's killing anyone who even thinks of hesitating to give up their coins) he is just thinking of you, sweet, beautiful you. I'm not gonna lie and say that his thoughts of you before he got betrothed to you were wholesome and pure. This man is a slut in the fullest meaning of the word. His thoughts of you are 90% centred around sex. He hasn't seen you naked yet (that happens the week before the wedding when he's hiding under your bed as you change) but he doesn't need to. He's more than happy to imagine you kneeling in front of him in that pretty blue dress of yours, your tits practically spilling out from the fabric and you're just looking up at him with those innocent eyes. he can only hope you would need him to help you through it. That you would need him to instruct you to unbuckle his belt and to edge his pants down and take out his cock. he could only hope you would whimper at the sight of it and look to him for guidance. That he would get to praise you as you would begin to leave soft kisses on its head before hesitantly taking it in your warm mouth.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

He was so cocky when he got the money, he didn't even think your father would refuse, so yeah he just waltzed into the castle and demanded to be seen by your father and even got some of his men to keep the guards happy (by fighting them all). He's then ripping open the doors, throwing the money on the table, falling into the chair in front of your father and begins discussing what colour theme he wants for the wedding (but he's happy to let you pick). The thing is he had no idea that you had made a deal with your father. He had no idea that your father was forced to say yes to him (always a man of his word), he really just thought your father was impressed with him. I think he gets quite sad to find out your father didn't say yes because he was blown away by his charming personality and good looks. You might have to reassure him and sook him for a few days.

All in all, to anyone else he is not a nice person, charming and slightly whimsical yes, but still an outlaw that would happily slit a man's throat if it could him a penny. To you? He is the sweetest man alive, constantly wanting to touch you and talk to you and do things for you. he is the ultimate dream man.

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

Since he didn't 'abduct' the reader, just replace the abduction with forcibly married.

A = Affection (How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?)

To him love is sex, but sex isn't love. The only intimacy he has ever had with women is through sex, and while he was never in love with them, it is the only way he really knows how to show his affection. He wants to prove to you his love through physical touch. Not only that but he is obsessed with your body as well, very much on his knees kissing your ankles sort of stuff and worshipping you. He is always trying to get up your skirts, constantly touching you and trying to convince you to have sex, anywhere and everywhere (he tried to convince you to do it while riding once, you thought it was a joke and he had to awkwardly pretend it was too). H

e is very possessive as well but he is a bit of a strange one, he wants to show everyone who you belong to, so he will try to fuck you in front of his men. He is more than happy to talk about your body and your sex life to them and will only stop if it makes you visually uncomfortable. but it is a fantasy of his to just take you on the large table in the planning room. You on your back, legs open wide, just cock drunk as he thrusts into you, showing you off to everyone. He will keep your dress on though and will probably kill any guy who seems to be enjoying themselves too much, but his ultimate fantasy is making sure everyone knows who you belong to and how much you love getting fucked by him.

B = Blood (How messy are they willing to get when it comes to you?)

He was willing to kill anybody and everybody to get the money to marry you so yeah bloody. But very cruel as well. Tortue sort of stuff. he takes pleasure in killing and he is very good at it. i do see him being very quick with his killings, you have to be when assinating or during a robbery, but when it comes to you and someone tries to steal you from him or worse, your father tries to send men to 'rescue' you, he is going to be very cruel. blood and screams everywhere. just so they know not to fuck around with him. he also wants you to know that he is willing to do that for you and will encourage you to watch, instead, you very understandable run out of the screaming either crying or very anger at him. he just goes to find you arms open wide, blood everywhere trying to hug you. You would be the most mad if it was your father's men and i see him getting a bit frustrated because hes trying to prove to you how much he loves you and you dont understand.

C = Cruelty (How would they treat you once abducted? Would they mock you?)

he is very sweet to you in his own way. he won't be cruel deliberately but as we've seen he doesn't think before he says things or even does things. hell call you things he thinks are cute (like heifer, goose or whore) and even be a bit forceful (throwing on the bed, picking you up, not letting you outside the woods, etc), or even does things that the reader is uncomfortable with, (making her sit on his lap in front of other, touching her stomach, asking for her to sit on his face, putting his hand up readers skirt in front of his men and making her come in front of them, bragging to his men he has the prettiest princess and that they can only dream of a cunt like hers) but he never goes out of his way to be cruel or to mock. especially during sex or when you're opening up to him. Some people like being called mean things during sex but not this reader, this reader needs lots of support so being called a slut or whore or a dirty girl during sex will probably lead to some tears or anger. she doesn't see herself like that and would hate for him to see her like that. he thinks those names are 'cute' but learned very quickly to not call her them unless he wanted a broom to the dick.

on the other hand, he is very quick to reassure the reader and support her. at the time of writing this I haven't written part 2 but he has had a little insight into her own self-esteem and he can see it isn't very strong, so he will be quick to notice body checking or disinterest in food or staring too long at some of the leaner women that run with his crew. hell shut those down real quick, but sometimes the reader doesn't show any signs until she's hiding away crying, but because he's obsessed with you, you don't get a lot of time alone so he knows very quickly when that happens and is quick to help ease things.

D = Darling (Aside from abduction, would they do anything against your will?)

This one is tricky because I don't plan on the reader being opposed to him, I mean (and this going to sound bad) the reader was so desperate for someone to love her and for someone to desire her (whether they liked her personality as well or not) that when he started to show romantic (but mostly sexual) interest in her she was so happy and relieved someone (anyone) liked her that she was like well ok cool I guess I'm married to this guy then. and yes she does actually fall in love with him (he's been in love obsessed since the first sight). what I'm trying to say is that the reader very rarely says no. I mean look at their first sexual encounter, she never out rightly says no (even though the absence of a no doesn't mean yes) she doesn't actively struggle nor fight back with the intent to cause immense damage or to run away, she is happy to let him show his desire for her when he reassures her he is actually attracted to her and not just pretending to be.

So he never has had to force the reader to do anything, while she might protest a little ( and depending on his mood will drop it or continue pushing) but if he continues to push she is happy to let him. also as their relationship develops he's less likely to push things as the reader's confidence has grown and he doesn't want to get hit with a broom. But if she had fought him since the wedding? actually, try to hurt him and say nasty things or try to flee when they stopped for breaks on the way to the woods and really tried to fight him in his bedroom? I'll leave it up to your imagination but he's never been told no before.

E = Exposed (How much of their heart do they bare to you? How vulnerable are they when it comes to you?)

he will tell you everything, and it'll be the oddest secret and timing as well. He'll be fucking you from behind, hands gripping your hips and deep moans and high-pitched whines filling the room as you feel his heavy balls thud against your clit, and then he's grunting out how this reminds him of the turkey he once stole from a farmer back in the day and how he got into a fight with the turkey and how the turkey won and then how they become best buds until he got hungry and killed it for dinner. You have no idea how it reminds him but you really don't want to know.

also, he'll whisper to you in the middle of the night when he doesn't think you're awake that he doesn't think he's good enough for you, the bastard so of a lowly knight married to a lady. he talks of how he is terrified some lord is going to catch a glimpse of you and steal you away from him or worse you'll freely go. its the only time you've ever been scared of your husband when he whispers how he will never ever let you go and if you try to leave he will butcher your father's people before stringing your family along the castle walls, then he'll find whoever you runaway with, watch as he disembowels them and then how he'll fuck you next to their corpse. he says all this before kissing your head and going back to sleep. he still thinks you're asleep while you're there thinking how lucky you are to actually love this man and that you want to stay with him, for your family's sake.

F = Fight (How would they feel if you fought back?)

ahhh reader never actually fights back with the intent to hurt or escape so I don't really have a plan for this.

I said before that if the reader from the get-go was rude, and mean, fought him to hurt him and objected to his charms for sex he would not like that at all, but I'm taking this one from our reader's actions, not a hypothetical reader. I think this reader would only play fight or pretend fight like half mad half joking, and boy would he love it. he has spent his whole sexual adulthood fucking whores, whom he didn't really have any affection for.

don't get me wrong he was kind to them but he still took what he wanted without caring for their pleasure (i gotta humble you guys he's a man from a historical time period do you really think he knows where the clit is, or that it even existed?), he would go rough and fast chasing his own pleasure like a greyhound after a rabbit. but with you, he changes tactics, at first he planned on rolling you onto your hands and knees, flipping up your skirt and just driving his cock in, but then you got all sad and sappy and he got a bit affectionate so he was a bit gentle and slow and actually tried to get you off.

but he still is a man who likes it rough and fast so when you start to play fight with him, he is imagining pulling you down onto his cock while he lays on his back, hands tight on your hips as he harshly bounces you on his throbbing member. he would love to watch your tits bounce and he would love to tease your hardening nipples as he praised you for being his dirty little slut (first (and only) time he called you that you slapped him- you were born a lady so you got pretty mad) who just couldn't go one day without his big fat cock driving in and out of your cunt. you on the other hand are just having an innocent play fight over the last date biscuit.

G = Game (Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching you try to escape?)

he is a very jolly sort of person who would enjoy making sex a game. since the reader never plans on leaving and honestly doesn't see anything wrong with her husband or the shrine he has of her in the back room, he also thinks there's nothing wrong with threatening to kill her family if she ever left (even if she was 'asleep' when he said it). so while he is silly and a bit ridiculous it isn't a game to him, instead its the life he's always wanted ( a pretty woman sitting on his cock while he sucks on her nipples)

H = Hell (What would be your worst experience with them?)

when he says he has a surprise to show you and it's a half-dead man tied to a chair that you barely realise is the man who grabbed your arse in the marketplace. he'll use this as a good reason why not to leave the woods without him.

you had hoped for a puppy

I = Ideals (What kind of future do they have in mind for/with you?)

he is a simple man. you on your knees wearing nothing but jewels he stole for you, mouth open wide, tongue out, eyes begging for his cock while he pats your head and calls you his good girl.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?)

yes, he does get very jealous and he most definitely lashes out. but it's almost always his fault. he'll be the one to fuck you in front of his men, he'll be the one to sit you on his lap as his fingers fill you up while his men watch with greedy eyes, he'll be the one to brag about how sweet and supple your breasts are and how glorious they look with his seed spread out over them. So what was he expecting when a few of his men's hands wander to their own members when you walk past or a few greenhorns who don't know not to touch get a bit close and daring after listening to your loud moans all night. he gets very angry and very bloody. and hes down a few crew mates after that.

K = Kisses (How do they act around you?)

like he'll starve without touching you.

L = Love letters (How would they go about courting or approaching you?)

courting? he didn't even give you a choice in marrying him, there was no courting. unless you count him following you everywhere and listening to your pleasure yourself as he hid in your closet the week before the wedding, he does.

M = Mask (Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?)

yes, but if anything, everyone else gets the real him, cruel, violent, rough and a real killer, while you get the sweet, kind and charming him.

N = Naughty (How would they punish you?)

sex but in a fun way. like I said reader is more than happy to stay where she is so she never fights him on anything but he may 'punish' you if you decide to tease him or if you have been a bit cruel to yourself. he will either make you sit in front of a mirror as he fingers you and makes you repeat kind things about your body after him or he will edge you until you apologise for giving him blue balls.

O = Oppression (How many rights would they take away from you?)

none, except freedom of going somewhere and not being followed by a killing machine puppy.

P = Patience (How patient are they with you?)

very, we saw that in their first real conversation when the reader kept turning her head and he kept missing her cheek. while he was frustrated he was still very patient and would have allowed the same thing to happen a few more times by finally holding your face still. unless your teasing him with your tits, as long as you don't bend over in front of him and show him how hard your nipples are from him right now, you could do anything and he would wait patiently, so yeah teasing sex is a no go but telling him long-winded stories or getting a bit mad at him and giving him the silent treatment, he won't snap or anything

Q = Quit (If you die, leave, or successfully escape, would they ever be able to move on?)

hahaha, all the woods burnt down, and your family castle in ruins.

R = Regret (Would they ever feel guilty about abducting you? Would they ever let you go?)

no.

if anything he might feel like he's not good enough but hell be damned before some lily-livered lord tries to worm his way between your legs. he might not be good enough but neither is anyone else. so no not really and no never ever letting you go.

S = Stigma (What brought about this side of them [childhood, curiosity, etc]?)

just who he is really, I know some yanderes can have multiple darlings over their lifetime or whatever but he never had this side of him till he fell in love with you. I think its' really true love. but he also loves the idea of possessing something that nobody like him ever could imagine processing, an outlaw marrying a noblewoman. it's like the peasant boy's dream to have a lady begging for their cock, he's corrupting this woman who is so much better than him with his lowly peasant seed.

T = Tears (How do they feel about seeing you scream, cry, and/or isolate yourself?)

he would feel terrible, mainly since he made you cry by calling you his pretty heifer.

U = Unique (Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?)

ahh nothing I can think of.

V = Vice (What weakness can you exploit in order to escape?)

his lust but come on why would you want to leave him?

W = Wit’s end (Would they ever physically hurt you?)

no no no no no, only in play or in sex and always if you allow it. hypothetical reader? yes

X = Xoanon (How much would they revere or worship you? To what length would they go to win you over?)

he adores you, he's on his knees worshipping every inch of skin he touches. he killed people for you so yeah he would go to very long, very bloody lengths for you.

Y = (How long do they pine after you before they snap?)

he saw you and then very quickly decided he wanted to keep you forever, so really as soon as he heard you make a funny joke about dogs

Z = Zenith (Would they ever break you?)

no, can't break what is freely given to you.

[x-authorship-x]

"Did he smile at them" lmao Raido clearly acting like this isn't the first time something similar happened

Honestly I have so much fun with SQ2 because they all do outrageous shit but in specific flavours and it's so fun picking who would freak out over what!!!

Like Kakashi, in his ANBU era before he gets even more publically erratic, is extremely unfazed by anyone's outrageous behavior because 1) he does not care or know where the social line in the sand is and 2) he's not intervening even when it's specifically his circus, his monkeys... And when it comes to doing outrageous shit, Kakashi's rule is that if he can, then he fucking will, and the gods themselves cannot fucking stop him 😂 for example, this man will flaunt porn in public on purpose and theft is only theft if he is the victim

With Shisui, he is painfully aware of social convention (the Elders are BREATHING down his neck, he can already feel Mikoto's eyes burning his skull) BUT it's all about context. Can he get away with it? Yes? FULL STEAM AHEAD. Are there witnesses? Yes? Will Genjutsu fix it? No? FUCK, RUN FOR YOUR LIVES (bursts into flames from the mortifying ordeal of being known and unable to lie). For example, Shisui gaslighting everyone in earshot? A normal Monday. Genma makes a dirty joke at his expense? JAIL, JAIL, WE ARE ALL GOING TO HELL AND SHISUI IS GONNA TAKE THEM THERE 🔥🤡🔥

Tenzo is arguably the funniest because my boy straight up is not in the know 😂 Tenzo will say the most bland shit and it will hit the feels.... Tenzo will also say the most fucked up thing in your entire life and it will be an attempt at humor and you've got to just keep living your life. No, being in the Squad isn't helping. Kakashi is just as bad, if intentional, and Genma is enabling him, Raidou doesn't have the energy to fight a losing battle and Shisui isn't being paid enough to therapy dog the whole group. This is just an incredible wildcard.

Genma....! When he's yelling at the others, it's not because he wants them to stop. It's because HE is supposed to be the hysterical influence and he gets jealous when they upstage him. Shisui batting his eyelashes and getting the spa treatment as a hostage is just too much to bear, Genma tried to give a target a lapdance once and all he got was ten bucks and the desire to shower ASAP 😂😭🤡 he is so so proud of the chaos (he knows EXACTLY what he's doing) but he is also absolutely plotting how to one up the others on the outrageous scale

Raidou.... Oh I saved him for last, Anon, because not only is he the one you were actually commenting on but Raidou's reaction is always my fav. You THINK, looking at the group, that Raidou is the resident normal one. You might have thought that with drinking (nope, Raidou's drunken antics are firmly about 'Me Time' and he's valid, he is NOT designated driving). Or maybe paperwork (Tenzo and Shisui do the paperwork, actually, because Raidou's tends to get ruined by Genma/Kakashi or his own pyrotechnics/ink). Or maybe just being socially conscious individuals.... No. Raidou might be the most normal one because he has a stable home life, civilian parents who are both alive and who love and support him, and he sees the 'other side' of living in Konoha... But he also was the only one to be look at the options in life and PICK being a Shinobi. Like HELLO that's a bit INTERESTING. Raidou is So Done (I'm sorry but *looks at the rest of the SQ* YOUR HOME LIFE WAS WHAT) but simultaneously So On Board (you wanna tattoo your eyelids with fuinjutsu? Say less, bestie) for the bullshit like yes this is deffo the normal Shinobi way to behave, Genma of COURSE Shisui flirted with his captors now please help me steal the bedframe it's solid wood and the slats keep popping out of my bunk at home 👏👏👏 Raidou won't condone being an asshole to service staff but he's more than willing to calmly go back to his book when someone is plotting a murder at the next table.... It's just not his business 💅

This got out of hand, sorry Anon BUT yeah Raidou would classify Shisui's puppy eyes as both a cringe-fail tactic BUT an effective means of manipulation... So long as he doesn't have to watch the car wreck 😂

[lostheretics]

PLOT TWIST (3)

▸ chapter 3; a walk through the door

pt 1 || pt 2 || pt 3

✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, ateez, tbz juyeon, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group

✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au

✵ summary : you have proven yourself many times, and finally, hongjoong accepted you as a part of ateez. but is that all? is it all that the underground world has to offer? you just stood in front of its door. and so it all started. of power, hierarchy, of blood, and of history; what's waiting behind the door, on the other side for you?

✵ notes : 9k.... idk what i was on the whole week. ENJOY.

also english isn't my first language and i might add more numbers to my myopia if i had to proofread the whole thing... ain't doing that yet.

☒ warnings: smut... like a wholeass breeding kink i laid it all there, swear words, mentions of murder.

☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.

☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!

✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr are much more appreciated.

"promise me y/n... promise me."

that night, you shot up from your bed when you woke up breathless. you tried to fix your eyes to the darkness of your bedroom, while also catching up with your breath. you recalled your memories as best as possible, and you're sure you had a dreamless sleep. no pictures, no memories.

then where did the voice came from?

that wretched voice.

"fuck..." you sighed, feeling that unwanted slight pang in your chest.

but rather than drowning in the past, you've decided you're better than that and lay your back once again on your bed. believing yourself of no longer a prisoner to your past, you tried your best to go back to a dreamless and pain-free sleep. glancing to your right, you watched as your husband snores lightly, clearly content with his dream world. you took wooyoung's hand in you and kissed it, holding it tight next to your head. you closed your eyes once more, trying to get some sleep.

after all, what good is past when present and future is already standing right before your eyes?

"morning."

you stirred underneath your blanket, and only then you realized how you were caged in wooyoung's arms. the said man landed a kiss on your forehead, which cracked a smile on your face. your eyes blinked a couple times, adjusting to the sunlight before fully opening them.

"morning woo." you replied, landing a kiss on his chest. you snaked your arms around his torso, hugging him close and closing your eyes once more. "you're so warm in this cold, morning atmosphere."

wooyoung chuckled, "could've said i was hot."

you laughed. "don't need me to say that for you, no?"

"yeah but it's reassuring. boosts my ego."

these were the mornings you both loved. the slurred morning conversations fresh from dreamland, the hugs, the morning kiss and all. your morning conversations can be absolutely meaningful, and sometimes can be really absurd. like that one time when wooyoung told you that he'd go back to sleep to chase back the aliens who stole his candies in his dream. you love it all still, nonetheless.

(p.s he did went back to sleep and told you he succeeded in getting his candies back when he woke up. hilarious. you went on a candy date after that)

(p.s.s wooyoung was absolutely smashed the night before and slurred even in his dream. absolutely grateful for you for listening to his rants so early in the morning and for going on that candy date)

needless to say, you're both grateful for each other.

sometimes you both speak of that gratefulness out loud, too.

"congrats love."

"for what?"

"for your work on the babel case. hongjoong hyung seems satisfied and proud. you saved his ass again," he laughed breathily, before looking down at you. "i love me a housewife, but a girlboss wife? i'm blessed."

with hongjoong's name being mentioned, you can't help but remember that night on the rooftop.

you opened your eyes and look up, staring back at wooyoung. you moved, shifting your body on your elbow while your other hand caressed his face. you landed a kiss on his cheek and smiled.

"it was for the family." you spoke with such sincerity. truly thinking of the family, of wooyoung.

he seemed stunned for a little while as his eyes wondered to the ceilings above. "family. huh... it gave some thoughts..."

"like what?"

"like fucking a baby into you so early in the mor— ow! what was that for?" he complained, holding over his stomach that got pinched. "i was just thinking about making a family of our own!"

"not with that tone, no you didn't. that was just you being horny, and we were having a quite serious talk before."

"hey! planning-a-family talks are serious too. you're disrespecting the possible soul of our future baby. they might hear you, you know?"

"now you're talking nonsense." you rolled your eyes.

"so can i fuck you right now or not?" he deadpanned.

the question left you stunned so much, flabbergasted by his audacity. however a few knocks on your bedroom door arrived faster than your answer to his question. you smiled slyly at him, gave him an answer before quickly getting out of your bed and heading for the door.

"guess not."

he groaned, clearly displeased. you only chuckled before you open the door.

san stood outside of your room, giving you a smile which you give one back to him. "morning y/n," he said to you, before dipping his head inside your bedroom, finding your husband still on the bed, "sorry for disrupting your morning woohoo, woo!" he shouted in jest, laughing when wooyoung replied with a 'fuck off!'.

"sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but hongjoong requests an early meeting today. he said he got some important things to say. better get moving now." san informed. he was about to walk away when he stopped abruptly, "also, congrats and thanks for saving our asses again y/n."

with that, san walked away. you threw a, "thanks, san." at him, before closing the door.

"c'mon. wash your face. get ready. hongjoong wants an early meeting." you pulled at the blanket, urging wooyoung to wake up.

he sighed, "two months of being away from you, and not a single sexy time for the two of us?" he asked, to which he answer by himself,

"cruelty at its finest."

"good morning everyone,"

hongjoong greeted, rather enthusiastically. he even let out a smile, showing his pearly teeth. the remaining eight people around the table exchanged glances, questioning their captain's unusual behavior.

"you look happy." yunho commented, in which hongjoong replied with a chuckle.

"that's because i am happy. and not for nothing," he then proceeded to take a seat, leaning back to his chair. "yeosang, how are things with babel?"

yeosang cleared his throat, "at first we were going for a merge... but unfortunately jang hanseo was killed, and at the same time jang hanseok was caught by the police for money embezzlement and murder. he couldn't propose a force majeure on this case and deemed unfit to lead babel chemicals, so he had no choice but to do a sell off." he stopped, before taking out a brown envelope and waving it around.

"i'm delighted to announce that we've reached the last phase of the sell off. this afternoon, my lawyer and i will retrieve the last signature from jang hanseok and by tonight, babel chemicals is ours."

hollers, whistles, along with the sound hands clapping filled the room. all praises that came out of their mouths were headed straight for yeosang for his work. hongjoong himself walked towards yeosang, patting him on his back acknowledging his hard work and the outcome of that work.

hongjoong raised his hand, quieting the whole room. "we thank yeosang for his work. but keep the praises still because this is not the only one..." he turned towards his right hand man, seonghwa, "tell us more about japan, seonghwa. after two months being there, you must brought something back... am i right?"

seonghwa smiled faintly, "we found the yakuzas working with jang hanseok. after a little bit of push and pull from both parties, we realized jang hanseok haven't paid them as he was supposed to, which brings us down to negotiation."

seonghwa straighten his back before continuing, "if i may say, the negotiation went smoothly. they've decided to forsake jang hanseok for good. our 50 million which was in their possession was divided by half. ateez has received back 25 million, and the other 25 million was taken as a token of first partnership between us and the yakuzas, and uhm," he cleared his throat. "there was a talk about a wedding proposal. of me and the yakuza's only daughter."

"we're getting another sister in law?!"

"another bachelor of ateez snatched!!!"

seonghwa sighed, "guys, it's just a possible proposal. we're gonna have to discuss even further to get down there."

"might as well go forward with it, hwa." hongjoong laughed, rendering seonghwa's face red as beetroot.

"okay! one more thing guys. one more thing to celebrate." he said.

he took a deep breath before continuing, "while pursuing babel, we realized someone important could be getting into trouble along with the damned company, so we willingly offered our hand and pulled them out. freely. no money, no nothing. and thankfully, the family of said person was as noble as i hoped they are. they wanted to thank us in person for the little help we gave, hence,"

"i want all of you to ready yourselves and be at your best behavior when we visit the lee family mansion this saturday, for a private dinner party. this—" he took out an envelope from his inner pocket, putting it on the table. "—is a direct invitation from lee juyeon." hongjoong stated with a proud smile.

hearing the name, everyone once again threw unsure glances at each other. jongho voiced his mind out first, "lee juyeon as in the lee family? the royal mafia family, lee family? that lee family?"

hongjoong shrugged, "there's only one family ruling the south. only one southern kingpin, lee juyeon."

hollers and shoutings quickly filled the room, some even hit the table in front of them, celebrating the best outcome of that mission. a mission that took two painstakingly slow months to finish. best outcome that made hongjoong gave out his biggest smile, going around high five-ing the whole group. why was it the best outcome, one might ask.

the answer is because the lee family is a royalty, and being invited by them is almost like being a commoner in one night, and becoming a noblemen the next.

ateez could get so much just by one word coming out from the southern kingpin's mouth, but a whole dinner?

they're set to be a winner.

yet between the hollers and celebrations filled with pride and joy, no one seemed to notice one person sitting with them, with their lips tightly shut and both hands clenched so hard their nails dug into their own palm. just over the name lee juyeon, the lee family of the south.

to ateez, it's a walk to heaven.

to this particular person, it's a walk straight to hell.

when the meeting was done perfectly, hongjoong had told everyone to leave and rest. there were three people left in that room, hongjoong, seonghwa, and wooyoung. hongjoong had told wooyoung to stay for a while, and he did exactly as he was told.

it seemed important, wooyoung didn't know the point of him being there. he just stood there and listened when hongjoong and seonghwa were talking about japan.

"i'm not sure about the marriage, joong." seonghwa blurted out, "they're a great family with great history. that's already a burden to ateez. and to me, a husband? what if i failed?what if it wasn't a worthy alliance?"

seonghwa voiced out all of his problems. there's sincerity in his voice, in his concerns. that maybe he's not gonna be a good husband, or if she's not gonna be good for him. or if the whole marriage gonna be a disaster. he wasn't wrong for that.

marriage, as easy as it sounds, is not a game. should never be a game in any way. to be tied down to one person for live is one of a heavy decision to make, and will be one of a hell if anyone chose the wrong person. marriage is a company that you built together, and it needs many things, many aspect to build a good one.

divorce might be the answer to a failing marriage. however it doesn't erase the memories, the time spent and wasted for the wrong one. the heartbreak, the pain, not to mention the dent in both of parties' name.

to choose the right person, to be the right person for them.

to be safe than sorry, though it'll still have its own challenges.

hongjoong only smiled, "let's ask someone from that point of view," he said before turning his attention fully to wooyoung. "what do you have to say about this, woo? seonghwa's possible marriage, your own, maybe?"

wooyoung straightened his back when he realized all the attention was put on him. he stuttered, mind blank while being the center of attention. looking around, he caught the look of doubt and curiosity in seonghwa's eyes, clear and visible while he waited for wooyoung's answer.

wooyoung quickly regained himself and answered them, "marriage is a huge thing, i guess. especially yours, hyung, if it'll ever happen. my marriage is a nonprofit one. me and y/n aren't worth much in this business, unlike you and the... yakuza lady. our marriages is incomparable, so it's kinda wrong to ask me this."

"but if we're not talking money, if we're talking about the real thing, then i'd say my marriage is a blessing. i love y/n, and she loves me. we're happy as fuck. i knew i wanted her forever at some point in our relationship. i don't know how, but," he continued, "i guess you'll know. if you want the marriage or not, or if you could handle it. it's all in you."

"and mine is for life."

to the younger's answer, the two elder were left dumbfounded. seonghwa and hongjoong glanced at each other, their minds quickly share the same thoughts, the same question, who the fuck is this guy because clearly this isn't the jung wooyoung they knew.

"damn woo, didn't take you as a romantic type." hongjoong said, still stunned after wooyoung's words. "i thought you're more of a fuck-and-forget type."

"i know right? but fuck, i'm in trouble." wooyoung sighed with a drunken smile on his face, rendering seonghwa and hongjoong agape, as if struck by thunder even more with his last word,

"i think i'm in love, hyung."

groaning and gag sounds soon came out from both seonghwa and hongjoong.

"that sounds cringey coming out of your mouth."

"anyways," hongjoong said, "what i mean is i want you to take your time with the marriage. maybe it'll work out. don't do it if it's not going well."

"i also wanna say thanks and congratulate you, woo, for finding a wife like y/n," hongjoong came before wooyoung and hold him by his shoulders, giving it a squeeze, "you scored the best person."

wooyoung grinned, "i know."

"joong i think he's on drugs."

"babe, you know what?"

"no i don't."

wooyoung came up to you, his chesire grin showing. "hongjoong hyung gave us like 2 days before we prepare for the lee thing to go to jeju beach house." he giggled, before continuing.

"we're definitely making babies there."

his cheesy words surely made you laugh, jung wooyoung and his choice of words has never failed to amaze you every time. "like a little vacation gift for us?"

"exactly." he answered. "i'm not taking a no from you whatever the excuse is."

"we've been away from each other for too long. i miss jeju too, don't you?" he tempted, hands coming up to rub your waist.

wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows, "the beach? the coffee shop? birds chirping in the morning while we stay in our bed?"

you raised your eyebrows. "okay your eyes have changed to bedroom mode."

"as in your favorite mode?"

"...we should start packing."

you both decided that jeju beach house is officially a monument to your love story.

jeju beach house is a two bedroom cottage, with a small garden in front of the house, located by the beach. said house was ateez property which they got as a payment for someone's debt. the first time you both went there, it was when ateez lent it to wooyoung and you to celebrate your 200 days of being together. hongjoong was a bit unwilling, but yeosang and seonghwa, with a little bit (re: heavy) push from san and yunho, were successful in persuading their captain.

that's also the place where wooyoung proposed to you.

you both love the house and the memories made within the walls.

once in a while, hongjoong would lent the house for the both of you to enjoy. there was one night when wooyoung promised he'll do his best to get the whole estate under his name or yours; anyways, just for you to have entirely instead of borrowing it from hongjoong.

you couldn't careless, jeju beach house would be nothing without jung wooyoung anyways.

the sight of grasses and flowers dancing in the wind welcomed you the moment you stepped into the garden. you inhaled the fresh air filled with the smell of the sea. the sound of waves hitting the beach could calm anyone within an earshot.

the sea truly heals.

"woo?"

"yes?"

"can i borrow the car for a sec?"

wooyoung's pace halted before you while he carried your suitcases. he furrowed his brows, "what for?"

"wanna buy some groceries for us. maybe buy us something for dinner too." you replied.

"i wanna go shopping with you too." he argued. you shook your head.

"you stay back, must be tired with all the job and traveling. just stay and ready our bed for us, hm? i'll do the rest." you smiled, convincing him. the peck you landed on his lips was enough to do the job.

after all, it's true that the job had tire him enough. "okay. drive safe." he smiled, before kissing you and making his way inside the house.

when he stepped into the house, he couldn't help the smile that grew even more bigger on his face. he missed going on vacation with you. he quickly put your suitcases in your room, before moving around cleaning the house and changing the bedsheet. he even lit a scented candle that he brought, in hopes of lifting the mood. he freshened up, then waited for you in the couch.

the sunset light shone through the glass windows, luminating the whole room in a dim orange light. wooyoung looked up to the whole room, then gazed around the whole house. he's content on having this vacation with you.

you, on the other hand.

jeju held your's and wooyoung's love for you in that house, and just like him you're excited to have this quick getaway with him.

but jeju holds another story of yours. another life.

that life stood before you as of now.

it was sort of comical, how that life is marked with death in a form of a marble headstone. a name was carved within the stone. you kneeled before the grave, and put down the bucket of lilies before it. gazing at the stone had brought back past memories, along with tears in yours eyes that you had to held back.

"i don't think i can keep my promises anymore." you whispered. "you gave me everything. you gave me a reason to live, to love, a-a whole life. and for that i'm forever grateful and forever indebted to you."

you choked on your tears before continuing, "but i think i deserve more, and now i-i have another life waiting for me. i can only hope you'll understand."

"i'm sorry."

you wiped your tears with your sleeves. standing up, you gave one more good look at the grave, at the name, at every corners and every marbling pattern.

because maybe it'll be the last time you'll ever be there.

and so you left, turning your back on the past life and past memories.

turning the car engine on, you quickly drove away from the gravesite. the gravesite looked further and further away in your rearview mirror. you looked forward to the road in front of you, and thought of wooyoung, signifying your view ahead of the future. of another, new, fresh life with wooyoung.

but a thought of past visited you still. the thoughts that, even after they left, after their death,

you think of how you couldn't say that word to them, still.

wooyoung greeted you with a hug as soon as you entered the house.

"what took you so long baby? everything okay?" he voiced out his concerns, eyes raking up and down your body in search of any injury.

you shook your head, "i was just taking my time. and i don't feel like driving fast, the road's kinda slippery." you shrugged.

it did rained a bit before.

but that was a lie; you did race on the road against time, in hopes the timing was right with going grocery shopping, buying dinner, and going home, with no trace of going somewhere else whatsoever. thankfully you bought the groceries and dinner first.

and thankfully, wooyoung seemed to buy that excuse.

"oh... that's right. you should drive safe." wooyoung replied.

you walked to the table to put down your groceries. then you took of your jacket. "i hope you're okay with chicken and a little bit of seafood. i couldn't think of anything else." you stated.

you took a deep breath, inhaling the air. a scent of lavender invaded your sense of smell and you sighed in contentment, feeling instantly relaxed. you saw a candle on the table beside the couch, lighting the room in a warm, dim light.

then you caught wooyoung's eyes staring at you. his gaze was deep, dark, and you believe lust was hidden behind them.

the air turned hot, the mood lifted, and the both of you could hear your own breaths started racing.

wooyoung stepped forward, invading your boundaries and depraving you of any privacy to yourself when his hands started making its way to your waist, holding you close to his body. that same hands caressed your torso, up and down, creating a friction that raised your hair, making you shiver.

"i've missed you, baby," he sighed, nose poking into your hair, making its way down to your neck. there, his lips rose to action, giving a feathery kisses to the column of your neck.

"want you so bad,"

there was desperation in his voice, a want, a need so bad it consumed him whole. you could feel the heat radiating out of his body. and you couldn't lie even to yourself, how you were so affected by him.

yet it's your most loved thing to do, to tease the shit out of the frustrated man.

"not even gonna let me freshen up?" you chuckled, voice going slightly higher. "you'd take me like this, all sweaty and dirty?" you whined, staring back into his eyes with a faked pleading look in your own eyes.

he sweared he almost gonna went all animalistic on you, taking you on any surface right there and right then, or even with no surface at all. punishing you for all the teasing you gave him.

however, he wanted this night to be a romantic one.

(he thought he'll go all feral on you on some other days)

"we'll sweat it all out then, hm? get us even dirtier. then i'll draw us a bath?" he persuaded. he proceeded to roll his hips into you, and you could feel his hardness brushing against your stomach that had you stunned.

you almost moaned.

"can't you feel me?" he sighed desperately, rutting his hips softly.

"woo— oh."

one of his hand moved quickly down south going underneath your skirt, expertly sliding his fingers through your clothed core that had you whining. you could feel your wetness dampening your underwear.

"you don't need to lie to me baby, i can tell you need me too right now. so let me," he whispered, "let me fuck you good."

it turned out to be your last straw.

you no longer restrained yourself from his teasing, quickly circling your arms round his neck and pulling him down to your height. you caught his lips with yours and he reciprocated right at that moment. the kiss was filled with even more fire when you thread your fingers through his hair and gave it a tug.

wooyoung sighed into the kiss and he squatted, tapping your thighs. it didn't take long for you to take a hint. you quickly jumped, circling your legs around his waist and he easily caught you in his arms. the way he put your core right on his hardness had you squealed, moaning into the kiss.

he carried you to your room, laying you on the bed and not once did he break the kiss. he only did when he kneeled before you to take his shirt off. you couldn't take your eyes off his body that you worship so much, the way he did with yours. the lines adoring his stomach were clearer than it was before his work in japan, and you just knew you're in for a good and powerful ride of the night.

he smirked, "like what you see?"

"fuck, yeah." you answered boldly, already loving his muscle gain. you moved your body, positioning yourself to kneel. "but you'll like what you see more." you exclaimed.

"fuck."

wooyoung had lost any sense of sanity when you took your shirt off, unbuttoning it one by one sensually putting a show for him, revealing a black lacy bra beneath it. his favorite color. all that and not breaking eye contact with wooyoung.

"fuck, baby," he jumped on you, caging you underneath him, "i'm gonna ravish you." he growled.

he wasted no time in crashing your lips with his, kissing you with much fervor, all teeth and tongue fighting for dominance and serving pleasure. his lips went down to your neck and to your chest, mouth sucking and tongue licking, leaving pretty red marks on you that he adored every time. his hands cupped your breast kneading it almost harshly, then he pulled down your bra releasing it from its confinement, flicking your nipples with his fingers that had you whining. he gave both of your breasts a single lick each, before moving even further down. his hand worked quickly in taking your skirt of, and, in the end, ripping your underwear off because he already ran out of patient.

"woo!" you complained, but complains soon turned into begging when he dived tongue first to your core.

"wanna worship all parts of your body, baby, but i can't —fuck, i need to taste and wet you and fuck you now," he said before going back to his job; which was wonderful in licking stripes, kissing, and sucking your nubs. you moaned loosely, not hesitating in voicing out the pleasure he gave to you.

your back arched when two of his fingers went inside you, curling your insides. he scissored his fingers inside you, while mercilessly moving it in and out of you in a pace that had you crying, "fuck, yes- ah! fuck baby don't fucking stop- mmhmm," you rambled, letting out gibberish word filled with moans as your brain failed to think straight.

"fuucck," he purred in between your thighs. your moans and whines made his head spin, made all blood went down to his ever hardening dick. wooyoung put one of his hand down to stroke himself, "so fucking sexy for me, my fucking wife,"

"all mine,"

it didn't take long for that coil to snap in you with his skills and movement. the hot waves in your lower belly was unmistakably growing stronger and stronger.

"'m cum-cumming woo, ahh-fuck!" you sobbed.

"give it all to me baby, cum for me," he urged. your last scream was accompanied by a pool of cum leaking out of your pussy, which wooyoung slurped more than willingly.

"taste so sweet, so addictive." he said while licking the last of your essence.

but you had other idea. with whatever strength you had left in you, you sit yourself up. you pulled wooyoung up, then pushed him back down. you straddled him, trapping him underneath you this time. lowering your body, you went down and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips. the dazed look on wooyoung's eyes and his smirk when you pulled back had your mind went hazy.

"let me do the hard work for you, baby." you whispered as you adjusted yourself on his hips. your hand went down to his dick, stroking it a couple of times before lining it up with your entrance.

the moan you both had when you went down in him was porn-worthy, it drove you both crazy.

"fuck, baby. fit me so well, so fucking tight, oh fuck," he breathed out. the moans became louder when you started to move on him. he watched with with adoration, love, and lust in his eyes, mesmerized by how you look on his dick; boobs bouncing, eyes closed shut, brows furrowed in ecstasy, mouth agape letting out the prettiest moan for him.

you both fucked many times, and every time he still found you so beautiful, so addictive.

you smiled hazily, "yeah? a good girl for you. just for my baby." you moaned out, that had wooyoung's hand move up to your waist, gripping it tight. he moved his leg putting his soles flat on the bed, giving his hips a support as he rammed his dick up to you.

you screamed on top of your lungs, feeling him so deep in you, his tip hitting your cervic in fast pace.

"yes, my good girl. so fucking good for me, ah," he cooed before he shot up the bed, holding you in his arm as he flipped you over. he had your fingers tightly held in his, as he pressed you to the sheets. your thighs circled his hips on instinct, pulling him close as humanely as possible, putting him deep in you.

"my fucking good girl, all mine to have," he bit on your neck. his hips moved harshly hitting yours you're sure you'll have bruises in the morning. but damn, with the way his cock buried deep in you and his pelvic rubbing against your clit on each hit, it had you seeing not only the stars, but the whole galaxy.

"say it baby. say you're mine." he commanded. he said it again when you didn't answer, and you tried your best to answer him with your clouded mind.

"hngg —yes, yours baby- ah! all yours!"

"feels good yeah? i'm fucking you so good, so dumb,"

"yes! s-so fucking go—" a certain angle had his dick hitting the sweetest spot in you, making you scream. "—right there! ah! y-yes, ah, don't fucking s-stop!"

wooyoung was sure he had fucked you brainless at that point. he smirked cockily, but that was quickly wiped off of his face when you clenched around him and he moaned. his hips stuttered a bit, but he could feel his own high coming. he moved to chase it.

"won't stop. won't fucking stop till you're spent and filled to the brim, baby," he groaned, "i'm gonna fill you up— fuck! gonna b-breed you,"

"'m cumming!"

"cum for me baby, cum with me, c'mon baby,"

the whole milky way bursted behind your eyes as you came to your sweetest release, getting you high. wooyoung soon chased after you, coming to his own high, releasing ropes of white, milky cum into your spent hole. he fucked you past your high, while pushing his cum deeper in you and overstimulating you at the same time.

the dazed and drunk look on your face was his cue to stop. he put a loving kiss on your forehead as he pulled his dick out of you. you whined over your loss.

wooyoung had to hold back his moan and stop himself from getting hard again when he saw his cum leaking out of you.

he kissed you once again, "i'll draw us a bath and change the sheets okay? then we'll have dinner. sounds good?" he murmured.

you chuckled breathlessly in your dazed state, "thought you're gonna fuck me all night, that you won't stop."

"don't tempt me. i might. the question is, can you take it?" he taunted, successfully shutting you up. you imagined the amount of pleasure you'll both get. but your mind was still able to think rationally enough to decline the offer so you won't lose your ability to walk tomorrow. as if he read your mind, wooyoung flashed you a small smile.

"but we haven't had dinner and i'm sure our jobs have kept us busy and tired for the past months. we deserve a rest." he reasoned. his sweet act and words warmed your heart, but the smirk on his face and his next words confirmed you that wooyoung is still wooyoung, the cocky and horny bastard of your husband which you love dearly despite how annoying he can be,

and that instead of your heart, he's certainly ready to warm your pussy any time soon.

"besides, we still have tomorrow, haven't we?"

you fucking love wooyoung.

you love fucking wooyoung.

you definitely love being fucked by wooyoung.

that was all you could think of when you were spending your time in jeju with him, it's all you could think about after you came home from jeju. he treated you like a royalty both in bed and out of it, with his aftercares, cookings, with the intercourses even with the roughness, sometimes slow and soft, all of it basically.

as much as you want more, unfortunately, your jobs awaited you both and you had to answer to your responsibilities.

it was saturday, and the dinner party awaits.

you feel absolutely stunning in your nude colored evening dress that fell against your mid thighs, hugging your body and accentuate your curves nicely. yet it still gave a formal look with its bishop sleeves. the nude stilettos on your feet were the icing on top.

the boys were also clad in their suits, looking fresh and clean for the agenda. all of you were waiting in a room before being called to the main hall where the party was going to be held in. you were just enjoying the paintings on the wall when san nudged you.

"are you pregnant?" he suddenly blurted out.

you raised your eyebrows upon the question. making sure, you asked him, words coming out with a stutter.

"am i what?"

"pregnant. y'know, after jeju?" san said. he stepped back, staring down at you before giggling. "but even if you're not, guess it won't be long at this rate with how he's fucking you."

you hit his arms, "san, we're in the middle of work." you gritted with your teeth with a forced smile on your face. his giggles only grew more.

"your soreness is showing, bet y'all fucked goo-"

"choi san!"

"just kidding, just kidding." he said, finally stopping himself with the tease. there were still some giggles coming out of him, which had you glaring at him until it soon died down. you flashed him a small smile, finding the conversation funny in the end.

"but also not kidding. wooyoung kinda promised to give us a nephew or niece. maybe both." he remarked. he moved his sight to the painting before you, and you finally realize it.

it was a painting of lee juyeon, the current southern kingpin and head of the lee family, and his late father, lee minhyuk. lee minhyuk had a prideful smile, standing behind his then young son with both his hand on juyeon's shoulders.

a family picture.

"he was kinda serious about it. i think he's finally in that phase where people want kids in a marriage." he continued.

the sudden question and discussion puzzled you. "really? we haven't really talked about it." was all you could say in the end.

san sensed the nervousness in your voice, and he decided to break the ice. "don't take it seriously, as for now." he said. then he looked back at you, "but him aside, what do you think about it? kids and all."

you gave it a thought. you shrugged your shoulders, "i don't know. the thoughts alone made me nervous." you hesitated. but you gave a reassuring smile,

"but i guess i'm open to it. i think i'll feel better with more preparations, y'know? and more talks of the future with wooyoung. kids are serious matters, don't you think?" you smiled.

he smiled back and nodded his head, agreeing to your statement.

"maybe soon."

not long after your conversation with san, one of the lee family steward stepped into the room, announcing that your table is ready, and inquiring all of you to come into the dining hall.

the lees lived in a huge mansion, so it shouldn't be so surprising if they got a big hall within its walls. but the sight of the grand hall left you all speechless and mesmerized, still. the tall white columns circled the room. the high ceilings gave a strain to your neck when you tried to look up to it. a huge and grand crystal chandelier hanged in the middle of it as if the rest isn't enough to show their wealth.

ateez were seated on a table near the main dinner table, where lee juyeon and his family is seated. and they took pride in it.

around the halls were tables, filled with many royal mafia families like the lees themselves. some gangs that ateez have worked with were seen too, like stray kids, txt, and members of some older and more powerful gangs, like kwon jiyong, shim changmin, kim namjoon, byun baekhyun, and many others.

entrées were served and enjoyed, the hall was filled with chatters and laughs. main course were being delivered to every table when a clinking sound of a glass against a cutlery was heard. the noise stopped, and all heads were turned to the direction of the sound.

lee juyeon stood with with a wine glass on his right hand, and he smiled, "respected folks, i bid you welcome on behalf of my family. thank you for coming here."

a round of applause came and he bowed to it. he raised his hand and continued his speech.

"tonight's dinner, like many before is an opening to our yearly gala, where we all gather and enjoy our night together and hopefully, to make friendships between us. work related or not is up to you all." he spoke.

"but tonight is more special then last years, because tonight is a commemoration for my late father, lee minhyuk. on this date, seven years ago, he succeeded the southern throne and the same time, saved the family, giving many opportunities for us to grow for more. for my father," he raised his glass.

all of the guests raised their glass, in remembrance of lee minhyuk.

juyeon continued, "and last but not least, i want to personally thank a new friend of our family. we all know of the latest downfall of a certain family. my uncle, lee mujin, almost got tangled in it. fortunately, they were considerate enough to save my uncle from further problem, and i heard they got themselves a deal after it. everyone, raise your glasses up once again,"

"to ateez and their help. to their future glory!" he announced your group.

ateez stood up from their seat and raised their glasses along with everyone, taking a bow when everyone in the room clapped for them. hongjoong faced juyeon's table and bowed to him and his family. juyeon gave him a light nod, and lee mujin, his uncle that ateez saved, bowed slightly with a smile on his face.

the prideful grin in hongjoong's face was unmistakable.

juyeon then invited the guests to enjoy their main course, and everyone enjoyed their five star meal served before them. chatters once again filled the hall. wine were poured, desserts served. glass clinking here and there. it was a nice dinner.

the guests were moved to another hall to enjoy snacks, and to enjoy the view of that night's sky from the big glass windows. a count down was done, and colorful fireworks shoots to the night sky, indicating the start of the annual gala week. after the main agenda for the party, the guests found themselves engaging in conversations between each other. hongjoong talked with some gang leaders, yeosang going around engaging in business talks, even wooyoung, san and jongho conversed with some caporegimes from other gang.

you were unknown to the underground world, still, so you opted to stand by the pictures on the wall, observing them.

the walls were filled with pictures of the southern kingpins and queenpin, heads of the lee family. you saw lee juyeon's picture there. he was attired in a full black suit, standing with a cane on his right, and even in pictures, the fierce look in his eyes were haunting enough. it was the third year of his reign over the south, after his father's five year reign over it.

undoubtedly a handsome man.

"y/n!" you heard a voice calling you, and you turned to the source of the sound. hongjoong walked towards you, but he wasn't alone.

lee juyeon walked along right by his side.

"y/n, here you are." he sighed. he moved to your side, holding you by your shoulders and smiled to juyeon.

"mr. lee, i would like you to meet the brain behind our babel project. she was the one who suggested to save your uncle. we wouldn't be here today without her. i'm proud to have her as a part of ateez." hongjoong introduced you to juyeon.

juyeon smiled and raised his hand to you, offering a handshake. "thank you so much for your work and help for my family. it's a pleasure to meet you, miss..."

he halted his word, still not knowing your name. you were stunned for a second, seeing the lee juyeon in front of you, but a squeeze on your shoulder from hongjoong woke you up from your flustered state. you quickly took his hand in yours, shaking his hand firmly.

"jung. jung y/n." you stated your name.

juyeon raised his eyebrows and chuckled in amusement, "you got three jungs in your group?"

"jung wooyoung is my husband. i decided to take his last name since i don't have one myself." you explained. his confused face made you explain some more.

"i was an orphan."

he nodded lightly to your explanations, choosing not to push the topic any further.

"jung wooyoung is a great caporegime from what i've heard." he commented. he then turned to the picture you were observing before, "you seemed fixated on these. anything particularly interesting with our pictures?" he inquired, opening a conversation between you.

you looked back to the pictures, and offered him a small smile. "yes," you answered, "you're a particularly handsome man."

juyeon's laugh filled the room, drawing almost everyone's attention. his eyes crinkled with how big he was smiling, "are you flirting with me, mrs. jung? aren't you a married woman?"

you laughed along with him. "just pointing out things. but there is another thing that interests me."

you glanced at a picture hanged beside juyeon's, where a man, as handsome as juyeon stood in the picture. if juyeon's look were fierce, this man's was haunting enough.

you said his name.

"the iron fisted, lee minhyuk." you spoke, then continued in such an alluring way to juyeon, "an interesting man, don't you think?"

"my father?" he stepped closer to you, while staring at his father's picture with you. "what made you think like that?" he challenged.

"he's an interesting man. an absolute family man. he did many things, all rights and wrongs. that he'd do anything to protect his family." you commented.

"anything, even if it means he should dethrone his other family."

"y/n!" hongjoong hissed.

your last words quickly created this thick air around you, juyeon, and hongjoong. the tense escalated so fast. you could visibly feel hongjoong's nervousness, while he shoot daggers at your back.

but the challenged look on lee juyeon's eyes were more fiery, filled with unexplained mixed feelings. you've stepped over the boundaries.

it wasn't a secret, how lee juyeon got his throne now.

some admired the iron fisted lee minhyuk.

but more than just a few called him the usurper. that for a reason.

your eyes went to another picture beside minhyuk, where a woman stood in the picture. the well-known, fierce and powerful southern queenpin, lee jiyoung. it has been told she was one of the finest mafia queen to ever live.

see, the lee family had this thing where they passed down the throne to their first borns, generation to generation. one case was known where a first born didn't produce an heir, hence the throne passed down to their younger sibling. but that younger sibling died before they even ascended to the throne, so it was given to the younger sibling's first born.

lee jiyoung's case of being the first woman born as a first born into the lee family, was a new case. yet the family chose to honor the first born tradition still.

lee minhyuk wasn't a first born. he was the younger brother to lee jiyoung. the second choice.

lee jiyoung didn't have an heir to ascend to the throne, but even before that, minhyuk led a rebellion against his sister, deeming her unfit to rule over the south because the south became imbalanced under her reign, and she couldn't produce an heir for herself. that she'd be the doom of the lees. a war broke between the two siblings that divided the lees into two side.

the first born woman versus the son of the lees.

it was told that lee jiyoung died because one of her men betrayed her over lee minhyuk. since she had no heirs, minhyuk easily rose to power, and after five years of reigning, death greeted him and now the throne passed down to his first born, lee juyeon.

there was a rumor going around that said jiyoung did marry, and had an heir. some rumor said minhyuk killed the heir, some said the heir ran away and minhyuk tried to hunt them down, some said those rumors were bullshit because there was no proof of jiyoung getting married to anyone nor giving birth to any heir.

some said there was a prophecy that a non first born will bring doom over the family.

yet here they stand, stronger than ever. by the power of lee minhyuk, and his son, lee juyeon.

you gave no shit to any of the rumor.

you're just in for the history lesson.

juyeon, with his hidden rage, came even closer to you. "interesting thoughts, from an interesting woman." he almost snarled.

he offered you his arm, "hongjoong, may i talk with mrs. jung privately? just for a few moment," he asked for his permission, not even looking at hongjoong. it was more of a demand, with how his eyes were fixated on you.

hongjoong nodded with unsure and fear, and he stepped away, leaving you and juyeon alone.

you took his arm, linking your own with his. you could feel his muscle tensing.

you both started walking slowly around the room.

"what made you say that?" he inquired softly, but deep down, you know his blood must be boiling inside. he was challenging you to say what you said before.

you wouldn't dare to wake the lion up from his sleep. aside from his birth, he's a kingpin for another reason.

he was notoriously known for being merciless.

"don't get me wrong, mr. lee. it might sound not right... but that wasn't the direction i was aiming for." you explained softly. he stared at you still, awaiting your words and explanation.

"he was much of a family man, as he was a businessman. he sacrificed his sister, but he saved the whole empire. south was losing their strength to the end of lee jiyoung's reign, but your father's iron fists fixed that, despite the rumored prophecy."

"that prophecy is a bullshit." he snarled.

you nodded. "i believe so, too. and your father proved it further. only five years, and he made the most out of himself. for the empire, and for you, his son." you continued.

"such a passionate, and inspiring man. for me, at least. i strive to be that kind of person."

you sighed before continuing, "and the reason behind that was because of the conversation i had with san, one of our member. apparently my husband told him about wanting to have kids and a whole family, and i just... gave it a thought."

you watched from afar, to the other side of the room where wooyoung was laughing around with seo changbin. "i think of how far i'd go to protect my loved ones, my children if i'll ever have them, my own husband —and right now, ateez."

"and i think i have it in me as well, to do anything to protect them mr. lee. whatever it takes." you declared. juyeon seemed confused with the way the conversation go. the direction was unreadable to him.

"how far did you go then, to protect them." he asked.

"jang hanseo was a good person. he had nothing to do with his brother's dirty work, but he had to take the bullet for us."

the walk was halted.

when lee juyeon turned his body to you, he found you smiling, small and soft. no trace of panic, uncomfortable or whatsoever. like you did not just killed anyone, though murder wasn't a new thing in the underground world. yet the fact was you didn't just killed anyone, you killed this particular someone which caused a domino effect; you singlehandedly took down a whole family. you looked so calm, way too calm to his likings, after dropping such information to him.

"you killed jang hanseo?" he stammered, unsure. "i thought it was jang hanseok?"

"it was jang hanseok." you assured. "i knew he was going to kill hanseo in the end. but i needed it to be dramatic, i needed to trigger it to happen at the right time. so i just did a little something for hanseok to take all the blame. don't tell hongjoong though." you glinted playfully at him.

"what i mean from our conversation, is that i want you to vouch for ateez. to let us work with you, starting with a small job. help us rise to our glory. we're going up and stronger, that i can assure you. our drug business is strong enough and still we strive for more. this is just the beginning. i'm aiming for a bigger and better cause, and i believe hongjoong does too." you declared to him.

"after all, the more power, the more likely it is to win, no? just like your father."

silence filled for some time between the two of you, even though the room was filled with people and their voices. like it was some unimportant background noise.

you left lee juyeon speechless and agape.

this was the first time you ever showed your face to the underground world, first time ever to be introduced into it properly. yet the way you carried yourself, the way you talked to him., like you've been there for a long period of time.

he was almost mesmerized.

juyeon took a good look on your face, studying your calm demeanor. he furrowed his eyebrows before blurting out.

"have we met somewhere before?" he questioned.

you froze for a bit upon the question. your eyes widened. a nervous laughter escaped through your lips with the way he examined you so thoroughly.

"maybe, if you were ever indebted to a loan shark," you chuckled nervously, "but judging from your wealth, then no. this is the first time i've ever been introduced properly to a fellow businessmen, even after being married for a year to my husband."

"you sure? because you sound like you were born for this." he quipped, "either that, or you're bold and talented enough for this." he said with a jested smile. you returned his smile with your own.

"you flatter me. but i suggest you keep your praises, because i have more in my sleeves that'll wow you, mr. lee." you threw a witty remark which had him laughing, once again drawing the attention to the both of you.

"you're coming to the gala right?" he asked. you nod your head, confirming your presence in the said gala in the future.

he pulled a satisfied smile. "good. i'd love to get to know you more, mrs. jung. you've interests me."

juyeon took his arm off of you before moving to stand in front of you. his eyes never left yours when he took your palm in his hand and bowed, landing a gentlemanly kiss the back of your hand.

"i'll see you around." and with that, he left.

when he's no longer in your radar, all the anxiety that you hold back bursts out, sending you in a manic episode.

being so close with lee juyeon like that the first time brought fear to you so much you wanted to puke. the burden was too much for you to handle.

your feet moved quickly than your thoughts, bringing you out of the hall in a fast pace that you almost sprinted out. you ran and ran away from the crowd, your feet opting to brought you out to the garden in the back of the mansion.

before you could stop, your legs gave out first sending you to crash against the grasses. you'd fall face down if it wasn't for your hands withstanding your upper body. you tried to catch up with your breath, but it was hard with all the running you did and with the anxiety that consumed you.

you could feel your breath hitched, hear the high-pitched wheezing every time you tried to breathe, desperately gasping for air.

your vision goes darker and darker as you start to lose consciousness.

"—hey? hey! miss!"

you could hear yourself losing your breath, but you also heard that voice, probably calling for you. by some forced your body was flipped, eyes facing the sky.

it was a dark and dull sky, you thought. but maybe it was just your eyes shutting themselves close.

"miss! can you hear me? hey— wake up. wake up!" the voice had said. you tried your best to follow its command. your eyelids were heavy and fluttering but you tried to open them.

"breathe in, breathe out. do it with me, c'mon." the voice urged. "breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out."

following the instruction was hard, yet you trued anyways. at first it felt like your lungs has been teared apart, but you follow still, breathing in and out. soon the pain subsided, and you found yourself breathing again.

slowly, you gained your consciousness back. realization hit you when you felt a hand on your back and on your cheek, holding you up against their body. you blinked a couple of times, and your eyes started to outline a person in front of you.

you blinked a couple more to clear up your vision.

you were faced, eye to eye with the man holding you. his brown eyes were a pair of the softest eyes you've ever seen, and it was showing how worried he was. his eyebrows almost touched each other in a line. his eyes kept staring at your face, making sure you were okay. by now, you could clearly his soft and honey glazed voice, when he asked you.

"are you okay?"

a... poster... of my own. rounds of clap for myself.

also spoiler alert; it was kim younghoon. i forgot to blur his face and when i tried to, it was weird af so. kim younghoon. is the last guy.

i got nothing to say other than see u on the next chapter lmao. love yall.

[hils79]

Hils Watches The King's Avatar - Ep 31

LOL one speech from Ye Xiu and all his antis now love him. If only it worked like that in real life

A good message that if you only play the way the fans like you won't win

Oh they are going to regret that when they realise that actually their idol is a total gremlin

Even Ye Xiu knows that is not going to go down well. He knows what a little shit he is

Okay I know it makes sense to jump ahead in time given that there's only 10 eps left but we could at least have had a little montage of them winning their other games

The sheer balls on this dude to suggest their teams 'merge' by which he means they get all the good Team Happy players and Team Happy gets...nothing? Yeah, no.

Oh fuck off

Of course Ye Xiu is listening. I hope he puts this dude in his place. Or, even better, I hope Chen Guo does

Yessssss

Aww yay they've got fans now!

Baozi don't walk towards the poisonous fog!

DON'T TOUCH IT!

Ooh is the other team cheating? Are they going to report it even though it would benefit them if Team Happy loses? Good sportsmanship trumps team rivalries!

Oh they've got someone feeding them the other team's positions! The dirty cheating bastards!

Oh come on there's cheating and then there's pulling out cables so you don't lose. Surely they didn't think they'd actually get away with this.

Okay, 1. Any network engineer including me who is not a network engineer can tell when a cable has been deliberately pulled out. 2. Why the hell isn't the network room monitored? 3. A 10 second rewind in the even of a technical problem is a bullshit rule

I'm pretty sure you have more than one option but okay

This absolutely does not condone their cheating but what kind of bullshit is 'if you don't win this one game against the tied best team in the league we're pulling your funding'. It makes no sense!

Actually I kind of think he does

IS HE GOING TO INVITE THE CHEATER TO JOIN HIS TEAM? Look, I get that he was desperate and that his team was going to be forced to disband if they didn't win but cool motive still murder

This dude: here is a list of all my flaws Ye Xiu: already mentally filling in the adoption forms

[proship-bill]

I understand the sentiment that shipping-neutral people have of "shipping discourse is meaningless outside of the internet" because to a degree they're right, but 1) that doesn't mean it isn't an issue worth talking about, and 2) antis are still more than happy to ruin you by doxxing you, encouraging you to self harm or commit suicide, calling up your place of work to accuse you of possessing CSEM, sending you triggering content, and using slurs and hateful language, because they somehow think it's justified to do all that over some drawings and/or fanfics they think are yucky. And all that isn't even taking into account how badly they wanna censor everything, how they're essentially the brand new "comics and video games are turning the children into violent murderers."

So while it's true that to the average person doesn't give a fuck about shipping discourse, and that not everybody has to fall neatly onto one side or the other, it's not the discourse itself that worries me. I think I speak for a lot of pro-shippers when I say that the actual concern we have is the harassment that antis love to participate in so much. The reason I say that being an anti is synonymous with being pro-harassment is because you can't really separate the two. You might be an anti that chooses not to harass anyone, but you still sit at the anti-shipping table with people who condone and often endorse harassment. Antis who say "oh but I don't agree with the harassment" don't do anything more proactive than just ignoring the harassment when it happens, so it runs absolutely rampant in anti-shipping circles and has abso-fucking-lutely become the expectation and the standard for how antis interact with pro-shippers (and shipping-neutral people as well).

It's been said before, but if you find yourself thinking "these ships with upsetting elements to them make me uncomfortable, but I know that they're not real and the people who ship them aren't doing so because it reflects the kinds of things they want to happen in real life, and being a hateful piece of shit to them is wrong" you are very likely not an anti but shipping-neutral and that's ok (although antis typically harbor a lot of animosity towards shipping-neutral people as well so welcome to the club). If you're thinking "I would never personally go harass someone over their disgusting yucky problematic ships, but it's ok if other people do because clearly those freaks deserve it", maybe consider fucking off.

[kachwoww]

More Jegulus Recs because i'm an addict

the shrine of your lies (is where i lay) by Kayaannii Prince!James meets Assassin!Regulus… v well written, and very fun! This is wolfstar as well! Not super long yet but from what I've read so far, there will be a lot of Black Brother Angst in the future. Slight warning, explicit like graphic, also there's very much a knife kink so if you're not into that this prob won't be for you!

l'éphémère (the ephemeral) by @anouri James hits Regulus with a motorcycle. Not the most common meet cute but they make it work. I'm 90% sure I've already recced this oh well. If you like Best Friend's Brother, you'll like this. Sirius and Regulus will make you cry in the most recent chapter. There are a couple pretty intense things in here, so make sure to thoroughly read the tags! I’ve been keeping up w this fic for a while and it one of my favs so I hope y’all read it!!

You, Me & Everyone Else by ygmoony I was grinning the entire time I read this fic. It is wolfstar and jegulus... but Remus & Regulus steal. the. show. They're just so...? I don't even have the words they're literally best friends your honour. I cannot wait for the next chapter, and for the chaos of the plot to kick in because I'm already OBSESSED. I think I’ve seen maybe one person mention this fic and it’s my personal mission to spread it, I’m in love w it

friday night lumieres by raiyag This one has blown up recently so I had to give it a read. I like it! It's very different from a lot of marauders fics, it's American high school au, centred around sports (and sports med). Very fun read. I liked the miscommunication between Regulus and Sirius. It is marked as explicit, even though from what I remember there hasn't been anything yet, remember all characters are in high school so keep that in mind!

For the Hope of it All by Bastetmoon (@alexaryebread) Yall. YALL. This is my fav fic on the list and that is saying something. It's basically a jegulus august au (the taylor swift love triangle) and I cannot (cannot) get enough. I was kicking my feet and giggling the entire time I read this. Every single character in this fic is a MESS and I love them all. Not a single one of them makes a good choice at any point ever and it is so entertaining, there is not a brain cell to be found. In other words, it's actually a pretty realistic representation of high school. It is very early 2000s teen tv show, like riverdale(season 1 anyways). It is so cute, and I cannot wait till it updates!!!

a matter of time by reggiecanswim

Ok I had to rewrite this summary because this fic has updated a lot. There will be spoilers so if you don’t want that, just know it’s an absolutely fan fucking tastic fic, and I highly recommend it. So it’s semi canon compliant. It follows the marauders (plus regulus) through most of hogwarts and that part is very much child/teen hood friendship, relationship drama and is pretty light. It gets darker in the last year (Regulus’ 6th, the marauders 7th) the prank is also featured and it’s incredibly well done, on par with choices’ handling of the prank in my opinion. Then the war. Regulus becomes a death eater and defects, is a double agent for a while gets caught and tortured has a very traumatic brain injury recovers, and has to live with the potters while he recovers. James lowkey cheats on Lily with him by the end. Ok not lowkey he does. I don’t condone this, and honestly I think it’s out of character for James but it is well written and enjoyable to read so if you aren’t into that don’t read it. After that canon… fixes itself. They find out peters the spy too late james and Lily die, Sirius goes to kill Peter and brings regulus with him, and Peter kills regulus along with the muggle (and frames Sirius for all the murders as well as his own death.) so yeah regulus does die. I was a little disappointed by this because I haven’t seen many regulus!lives fics that follow him into the canon story and see how his presence changes things but again it was well written, and I even cried so I can’t really complain. I think there’s one more chapter left so I’ll update when that comes out. Side note, I’m curious to see if they’ll add regulus to Sirius’ victims count or they’ll say he was a part of the plot to kill Peter (and the muggle) and died in the process, probably leaning toward the later because he was a death eater but the former would be very interesting.

You Missed My Heart by pinkpanther1465

Criminal minds au!!! The characters don’t line up exactly, but James is Reid, Remus is Hotch but it’s established wolfstar. Very cute but sort of sad, updates are pretty frequent and it’s different than a lot of jegulus fics I’ve read!

love is not a predicate by mordax

Yall this is the boarding school fic to end all boarding school fics. I literally read all of it (it’s over 100k rn) in like 3 hours with almost no breaks. I ate this shit up. Pandora and Reg are the bestest, and JAMES? He has my whole heart. He just wants to listen to the piano. But the real star of this fic is the absolute perfect representation of Sirius and Regulus’ relationship and their whole family being the worst. It’s just great you need to read it.

En Avant by bluerosebouquet (@sortasirius)

The best depiction of grief I've read in a fic so far. I usually don't like jegulus fics where Lily dies, because the writer is always so eager to get to the jegulus they just brush over Jily, this fic doesn't do that. Like not at all. It's also very sad, but in a happy way? That didn't make sense. You'll cry by chapter 2, but it's not soul crushing depressing. Is that better? As of now the Sirius & Regulus relationship is looking unfixable, I really hope that changes, because I love them and I'd love to see this author's take on their dynamic, and also I really want the specific backstory for their falling out. I put reading this one off for a while because it's very long but I finished it in like 4 hours, maybe less actually, you really get right through it. ANyways go read it and tell them they're amazing.

[aceinacloset]

A clown obsessed girl ranks all of the different versions of Circus Baby because I have an obsession with her.

I'm ranking every single version of Baby the franchise has created only out of boredom.

I'm ranking them from best to worst.

Topping In at number 1 'Circus Baby'

The OG, the classic, practically perfect in every way, Circus Baby.

She was a very well written antagonist for what I thought was a new story fnaf was building, she was a breath of fresh air from the purple guy and I love it. She was intimidating, calculated, manipulative, and tragic. She was an evil you couldn't help but sympathize with like 'damn I feel bad they went through this shit, I don't condone the murder but…' and best of all nothing about her character was kept hidden or obscured from us, we were given everything and just left to collect it all and judge her on our own, I wish more people would do that with characters. Anyway I really feel this is the best version of Baby you could ever find in this franchise and I love her with all my heart.

Coming in close 2nd, 'Ennard'

Ok ok I know Ennard isn't technically Circus Baby, but she Is apart of Ennard so I'm still counting it. Ennard being second isn't a negative on Ennards part only on the lack of screen time, like give me more fnaf. Other than that Ennard is just as great as Baby. I love their design, love how threatening they are, love how they kill and hide themselves as a person. Ennard is based. I have nothing else to say they are just great, I just wish they got more time in the franchise.

Off to the 3rd is, 'The Plushbaby's'

They are my little gremlin children. Yes I've adopted them, they are mine. I understand some people's dislike of the plushbabys I mean they are basically the modern Balloon Boy to sum, but I found their level in HW strangely fun. The reason they are in 3rd is because I can't believe they would be able to kill me, they are a plushie I could just kick them, I wouldn't, but I could. I love them because they are like tiny little babs, I picture them following CB in a little line, shuffling along behind her. The plushkins in the DLC are also wonderful and made me love the Plushbaby's even more, and the Scrap Plushbaby's are just as adorable.

4 below 3 '8-bit baby'

Just look at her she is babe ❤️🥺.

Lucky number 5 is, 'Scrap Baby'

I really wish I could put her higher on this, but sadly her design can't save her from the terrible writing. I don't know what it is. Something about the way she is written irks me, like there's a pivotal piece missing for her change from SL to 6 to make sense. I feel if her character was kept more consistent with CB or her character change felt more natural and actually shown to us then I would be whistling a different tune, but sadly since this isn't the case she has to get 5th. I still like her just not as much as ones higher on this list.

6 isn't anything to scoff at with, 'Heartsick Baby'

Yeah I'm even adding the AR skins. The skins aren't high on this list because we'll there skins, they ain't got much else going for them except looks. Heartsick Baby as a skin is wonderful, I just kinda wish her bow and arrow was like a crossbow attached to her arm. I feel it would give Scrap Baby claw arm vibes you know.

7 ain't all that bad, 'Broiler Baby'

I like this skin. I just wish more was done with it, you know, like it needed more.

You have now reached the bottom, these are the absolute worst versions of Circus Baby the franchise has created, at least that's how I feel about them at least. I couldn't put one before the other because both of them bring me ungodly amounts of rage when I see them.

Now before I rip into these two I'm here to say if you happen to like these two no hate towards you, and more power to yah. I mean no true harm to you, I'm just a salty person hating a fictional character. That being said

In the pits of hell, 'TFC Baby and Eleanor'

[They don't get images because I hate them so much]

I cannot describe how frustrating these two are as characters. Maybe it's Eleanor, such an inconsistent and annoying evil that would make William Afton blush, or maybe TFC Baby's frustrating writing that not even Scrap Baby has, or maybe it's the fact neither of these bitches are even Baby. Their origins are completely different or non-existent to Baby's story. No none of these, ok yes these, but these pale in comparison to the main thing that irks me about these two.

These two are the physical manifestations of how I feel the franchise sees and will continue to see Circus Baby as a character, not as a determined, competent, dangerous, yet tragic threat but as a one dimensional sexyfied villain with nothing going for them except about how evil they are. Whether they intentionally made TFC baby sexy or not (let's face it, if it wasn't intentional I wouldn't be talking about it.) doesn't change the fact that they had no reason doing this, let alone to a character that is big enough and thick enough to kick TFC Baby like a football (I already talked about this) and Eleanor is no better She's like even thinner like malnourished thin, and she isn't even CB she's literally just a bitch who stole CB's fit.

Now I would let this slide kinda if at least they were written well, but there not. Eleanor is a one dimensional villain and TFC Baby is a William Afton kiss ass.

I wanted to like these characters 'cause others liked them so that must mean there is something good about them right? I found nothing except more reasons to hate them, again if you like one of these two go off king, queen, or nonbinary bean you keep doing that I'm just gonna stay far away from that.

Also I will not be convinced otherwise, TFC Baby wants what M3gan has.

TFC Baby fell so M3gan could walk on her corpse and strut to the end.

[kiltongrammarwriter94]

Girl I’ve Always Been | Childhood (1)

Pairing: Andie Bell x fem reader (Becca Bell x reader) childhood best friends

Summary: Her deep silver eyes shot up to you, wide and almost menacing. Her eyes were the same color as your father you noticed. Her lips were calm and poised as they eyed you, running down your figure to stop at your soiled trainers. Her bike was still on the ground, you could just make out the sticker that lined the bars. ‘Property of: Andie Bell’ written neatly on with a marker pen. Andie bell.

Series Warnings: Childhood innocence, toxic parents, Jason Bell being his own warning, hurt/comfort, found family, firecracker baby Becca Bell, featuring the very famous Roadie and Toadie, My take on the Bell family. Pre AGGGTM.

Authors note: I first Read A good girl guide to murder when it first released in 2019, and I absolutely adored it. It kept me on my feet and I fell head over heels for so many characters. I happen to be one of those people that sympathize a great deal with characters. One of those characters happened to be Andie bell. She was so complex, so versatile it was impossible to know her next move. I throughly enjoyed the dynamic between the Bell family, and in turn it made me love Andie more as a character. Not condoning her actions, but there is a saying, hurt people hurt people. I wrote this piece simply to explore Andie’s childhood, and explore it in my own special way. This is again solely for entertainment purposes. I do hope you enjoy it. (The cover photos will be altered when we get picts of India as Andie)

Words: well beyond 7k

Your eyes peered out of the frosty window of the car your parents had been driving for what seemed like hours now. You watched as the bustling streets of London remained a firm solid memory in your mind, your eyes now peering over at the soft country road of a small town. Your mother eyed you with soft eyes from the front seat, leaning down so her firm hand made contact with your cheek, softly moving some strands of hair from your eyes. “I know the move was not what you expected sweetheart, but your father and I know you will grow to love Little Kilton. I hear there are even some lakes? Isn’t that so Charles?”

Your father’s soft smile filled his features as he peered at you with his soft silvery eyes, “Oh yes! Plenty of lakes! I hear they’re known for their tea rooms!”

What town wasn’t known for their tea rooms?

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, watching as your fathers smile lifted at the sound of your voice, at the age of eight you had now moved more than four times. That was just part of the job given that your parents were the top familial therapist’s in the England. They had worked with so many families all over, from the great city of Cardiff in Wales to the great burrowing dales of Scotland. You had been too small to remember the early years, living in wales and Scotland, though you think now you’ll remember this move the most.

The white pale sign greets your eyes, ‘Little Kilton’ leaping of it as your father zooms past, he notices your wide gleaming eyes watching the small city center, the churchyard, the tea rooms. It’s all so new. It’s only when your father turns into a small neighborhood that you really feel anxious, your leg shaking against the car floor.

The houses all look similar to each other, terraced houses, orange brick lined with white window tills, black rimmed picked fences. Your father curses as he flips the map onto the left side, “Jenny do you have that paper I gave to you when we left tesco’s yesterday? The one with our address on the back?”

There is some shuffling as your mother peers through her rucksack, before producing a small piece of paper, you’re observant enough that you catch the street name, Hogg Hill. You laugh to yourself, imagining a street laden with Hoggs, all sorts of colors.

“There we are” your father sputters, twisting the wheel until the car is turning on a specific road. “Hog Hill, number 29”. The house isn’t what you expected, its a detached house, standing alone from all the others, the brick is devoid of color, probably withered away with age. The gate that lines the house is made of brick, metal bars upholding the bricks. The mail slot is pure gold, cleaner than any other mail slot you had seen in your short years of life.

The windows remain clean, and you’re about to ask your mother if the previous tenant had done a clean up when she answered for you, getting out of the car, eyes taking in the house.

“Would you look at that Charles-“ your mother begins, her words a void in your head as she begins to decorate the front door, talking a mile a minute about planting a small garden, to which you take the time to look round. The street is small, but you find yourself smiling as you watch an elderly couple walking their small dog, lead on and tail wagging. It makes your heart swell, but also in a way that has you begging for home. Your grandparents had been sad to see you go, and you along with them. You must have cried buckets upon leaving.

It’s your father who mentions it. You don’t remember noticing it yourself before he had brought it up, “My goodness will you get a look at that tree Jenny?? It’s bigger than five lots combined!” Your father comes near, rustling your ponytail and tickling you as he passes, “it’s a sycamore tree! Your favorite!”

Your eyes follow your fathers and right across from your house stands a tree. Not just any tree, a sycamore tree. Your grandmother’s favorite. It’s big and tall, overlooking the semi detached houses, and all you want to do is rush over and begin climbing. That small curiosity that beats in your chest aching to get out. You bet you could see all of Little Kilton from that high above the ground, you wager you could even see all of London, maybe even London Eye. It’s only then that your mother breaks your concentration, piling up your arms with boxes, as much as your eight year old hands can carry. And the tree is forgotten.

After nearly two days of decorating and helping your mum move the furniture you’re itching to get outside. It’s when your mother is out talking on the phone that you manage to sneak out from under her.

The weather is Cloudy, the breeze feeling nice on your skin, the tiny patch of sun that peeks out through the dreary clouds is warm. You tug your climbing shoes on, before racing across the street.

The sycamore is as big as your grandmothers, and you easily climb on it, making it halfway. You clutch the tree trunk in your hands as you peer down at the land bellow. Although your previous theory of being able to see London had been false, you never realized how small Little Kilton truly was. It stretched miles and miles, but seemed cut off from the rest of the world. A tiny town filled with tiny people.

A vast difference from the bustling Streets of London. Where the people were anything but tiny, crowds of people going to and from. The feel of the underground station rocking your feet, rattling the edges of your skin.

It was quiet here. Almost too quiet. The Unsettling sort of quiet that caused your mind to race with endless ideas. Here there was no underground station, no busy bodies going to and from, just the tiny town, where kids would play in the park and everyone knew your name.

It would only be a matter of time before your mum found you missing and would call for you to come back, help her finish off the garden out back. You sighed, moving to climb off the tree, making sure you were careful on the way, you didn’t want to get any scratches or broken limbs. Not like last time.

You hadn’t seen her at first, the tree had most likely been too high to peer down at, you had mostly kept your eyes on the rest of the town, not bothering to look bellow. A girl was on her bicycle, pedaling angrily down the hill. You watched from your front steps as her front tire hit a crack in the pavement. The first thing you noticed was, she didn’t cry. Or wince. She simply rose up from the road, ashy blonde hair now ruined as she pulled up her ponytail. Her scraped palms and unblemished face were a stark contrast to the fierce determination in her eyes. You could tell she was angry, from her raised brows and lips muttering incomprehensible words.

her knee was bleeding, racetracks of blood spilling over the wound that had no doubt gotten cut from the fall. You weren’t sure what possessed you at that moment to walk over to her. You were normally too scared, too sensitive to go talk to other children on your own. But something in you made your feet walk towards her.

Maybe it was because your parents were therapist or because you were observant and you always knew when people needed to talk, but you stood in front of her, your feet licking against the ground as you walked, alerting the blonde girl of your presence.

Her deep silver eyes shot up to you, wide and almost menacing. Her eyes were the same color as your father you noticed. Her lips were calm and poised as they eyed you, running down your figure to stop at your soiled converse. Her bike was still on the ground, you could just make out the sticker that lined the bars. ‘Property of: Andie Bell’ written neatly on with a marker pen.

Andie bell.

She eyed you for what felt like eternity, until you managed to speak. “I saw you fall”. If the girl thought your words were candid she didn’t show it, only rose those threatening eyebrows, her silvery eyes wild as she eyed you, like she was on the defense. You knew that because your parents had seen to many cases like that.

Andie couldn’t help but feel like your words were contradictory, like you cared but didn’t at the same time.

Her chest puffed outward, like a threatened puffer fish desperately trying to defend itself, and then the stubborn response fell from her lips, “Didn’t fall.” The words were harsh, menacing, with a sudden chill added to them. “just….lost balance is all”

You scoffed, eyebrows raised, clearly she had. The evidence was all around for others to see, You just stared at her for a second, wondering if she was being serious. Surly the way her knees were scrapped and her bike was dented had been evident of the fall, of some accident.

“But you did” you let out, head tilting, eyes soft.

Andie gulped, her nose flaring and eyes squinting in anger. “No I didn’t” she growled out. But you saw it—the tremor in her voice, the vulnerability she tried to hide. She got closer to your face, hands balling into fists. She didn’t like how weak you made her feel, and even more so that she couldn’t read you enough to decipher your emotions. It was beyond frustrating. but it was obvious you didn’t perceive . All you saw was an angry little girl with the same characteristics your parents would talk about.

You shrieked back as she stepped over to you, eyes still mapping out your emotions, trying to catch a glimpse of anything.

It took a second, but you could clearly see her anger, the way it was raw irritation. You planted your feet, stood your ground. She was in obvious need of help, you could tell from the way she held her body that pain was something she was not immune to.

“I have plasters. No shame in falling.” Andie’s gaze bore into yours, as if assessing whether your words held true. She was wary, like a wild animal caught in a snare and at that you watched as her eyes softened, and with a simple nod moved past you, bumping your shoulder lighty as she passed.

She followed you back to the house silently, scratched up bike trailing beside her.

She didn’t talk, didn’t even veer her eyes away from in front of her, pulling her dented bike by its handles. Once you made it to your new house, boxes and boxes still laying out in your fathers boot, evidence of you being freshly new to the town.

Your father smiled as you neared, his eyes kind and sweet, and you watched as his eyes took in the girl next to you, taking in her bleeding knee and soiled clothes. “Oh dear! Have a fall did we sweetheart?” He spoke, dropping the box he was carrying to come and eye Andie.

You watched the blonde girl, who seemed a bit nervous and confused as your father moved closer to her, she stepped back a bit, not too much for it to be noticeable, but you noticed. You could tell by her firm jaw and observant eyes that she was calculating her thoughts about your father.

“This is Andie Bell papa” you spoke out, moving to step in front of the small girl,a small smile perched on your lips. “She had a bit of a fall and I offered to help clean her up”.

You watched as Andie’s silver eyes moved to you, and you didn’t understand why you suddenly felt nervous, the beginnings of butterflies in your stomach.

Your father nodded at your words, moving to grab your head affectionately and drag you into him, laying a big almost embarrassingly kiss onto your cheek. You shrieked, pulling away, wiping at where your father left his lips.

“Always the mediator aren’t you” he had whispered into your skin

You were a big girl now, and you certainly didn’t need to be branded as the girl whose parents still treated her like a toddler with their endless affection. If your father noticed your less than enthusiastic behavior torward his affection he didn’t make it known. Only smiled that wide smile, “well Andie it’s a pleasure to meet you!! I’m sure you’ve made quite the impression on my daughter, you’re the first friend she’s ever brought home”.

You could feel your cheeks heating up at your father’s admission, you were worried Andie would be less than enthused to be around a middle aged man talking fondly about his daughter. You were sure she would take the plaster from your hands and walk straight out of the door, no thank you or words mentioned. She most likely thought you a nerd, a dweed, a good girl who did everything your parents asked, and with a smile. That you were, and you weren’t ashamed, you usually never were. So why was it when it came to Andie Bell did you feel the need to suddenly be cool?

To your great and utter astonishment the blonde only smiled at your father, the lines of her lips lifting into a beautiful grin, and you were amazed at how beautiful her smile was. It was a big difference from the scowl you had seen on her face the whole walk over.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too sir.” It was short and simple, and your father seemed to like that, moving aside and gesturing for you to take Andie inside the cluttered house, where you were sure your mother would be flying around like a headless chicken.

“Don’t let me stop you. Off you girls go, and make sure to clean out those cuts, don’t want them to get infected” he chimed, going back to the boxes laying on the pavement of the drive.

“Sorry about my father” you spoke, “he means well but sometimes I think he fancies making me feel embarrassed” you whispered.

You watched as Andie’s eyes remained on yours, something flickering in them, you didn’t notice it then, the small flickers. Emotions that were too big for an eight year old to feel, that would flicker and make themselves known.

“Your father loves you” she spoke, her voice calm and controlled, a major difference to her angry self that you had met a while back on the pavement floor. “I think it’s wonderful”.

Wonderful? Any other child your age would have agreed with you, would have laughed and said a very different thing, “parents! How embarrassing can they be!!”. But Andie Bell hadn’t, in fact she had saved you from making a small error in your judgement. You peered back to your father, watched as he eyed the boxes, standing that same way he always did when he thought too hard.

A smile formed on your lips. Your chest ached in that way that only ever happened when you thought of your dad. A warm feeling. “You’re right” you chimed. It was only then that your eyes caught the lines of discomfort in the young girls face, the way her lips let out a hiss as she walked.

You immediately without thought reached for her hand, concern etched into your soft eyes, “come along Andie, let’s fix that cut of yours”.

Your mum’s eyes rose from the lamp she had carefully taken out of the box, eyes seeming to take on a surprised expression as you strolled in, hand in hand with Andie. Your mother looked amused, like she’d waited for this moment for years.

“Made a friend already have we dear?” Her smile is genuine and soft, her eyes then turn down to the cuts on the girl and immediately mum mode is activated. She immediately comes near to Andie, “had quite the adventure it seems, come dear let’s clean that cut of yours. What’s your name sweetheart?”

Your surprised when Andie replies, fast and steady, you watch the way she interacts with your mother, her uneasiness of others seeming to fade away as she tells your mother where she lives, “Number 33 four houses down, I have a little sister named Becca, but she’s a bit of a bore, all she does is toddle about and play with her dolls”.

You think it’s the most words you’ve ever heard the girl say in your presence. Your mother seems to love the conversation, nodding along and laughing at the way Andie describes Becca, like any older sister would, with the least affection.

You watch from your place across the table as your mother asks permission to lift Andie onto the granite, and when she nods your mother lifts her on the counter, very tenderly taking the girls shins into her hands before cleaning out her wound. Andie doesn’t wince, nor cry, the only indication that she’s felt any type of pain evident from the way her fingers grip the sides of the granite, fingers turning deathly pale. “I am quite use to cleaning cuts” your mother spoke, moving to get the plaster from the box and placing them neatly on the wound, tapping Andie’s cheeks playfully as she did so. Andie had smiled, not a forceful smile or a big smile. But a soft one. Genuine in nature

“This girl over here is constantly giving me a fright with her tree climbing. I’m just happy that she was there to help you”.

Andie’s eyes meet yours, and to your surprise she nods her head, a mere shake directed at you, but you know well enough what it truly means. Thank you. Thank you for helping me. You can’t fight the smile that fits across your features, or the amused expression on Andie’s face. Once of the counter and onto the floor you watch as Andie’s eyes widen, your ears hearing a distant voice in the distance, “Andie your father is almost home!! Come put the kettle on!” It’s a woman’s voice. But your perspective enough to watch the way Andie’s eyes change when the word father is entered into the equation. Your mother must tell too, because she’s immediately speaking, “it’s about tea time. Why don’t you go along home now honey? I’m sure your mother is looking for you”. Andie is nodding, before making her way out the door and down to her bike, not even looking back at you. A pit opens in your stomach, but it’s only when she’s about halfway down the drive that she turns. “I didn’t catch your name. You’ll have to tell me next time!” She shouts, and then she’s gone, biking down the street down to her house.

Your mother only smiles, moving to kiss your forehead, “well look who made a friend today.” Only your not listening, your made to focused on following Andie as she peddles down to her house. Her mum is outside the house, looking like a carbon copy of her daughter, and she sighs when she sees Andie, speaking words you can’t hear, but you watch as Andie points in the direction of your house. Her mother peers over and you find yourself ducking behind the door, hoping she hadn’t caught you. But you don’t see the way Andie laughs, her eight year old teeth making appearance as she giggles.

You don’t see Andie much during the weekend, your parents keep you busy as you trail alongside them in the center of Little Kilton, holding fast to your fathers hand as you go into the antique shops, your eyes far to busy taking in all the old valuables, old oil paintings and clocks devoid of colour and paint. Although you can’t help but want to run into Andie, you can’t explain why, but you felt this feeling in your chest when you looked at her, you didn’t know what it was, or why it was there. At first you had thought it odd, but now..you enjoyed it. The way it would flit through your whole body, make your tiny heart beat fast in your chest.

As you sit in the ices cream parlor, a cone in your hands you watch as your mother sits in front of you, eating her ice cream with a spoon, much too posh then your father and you. Unlike you barbarians she didn’t feel the need to lick till her tongue was frozen. You were usually a rather observant child, people would comment that you were much to mature for your age, you weren’t sure if that was true. Did a mature eight year old still wear bunny nighties to bed?

But you were observant as ever. Had been ever since you were an infant, your eyes were always so clever, finding things, always searching. Learning, mapping. You could see it now, the way your parents were eyeing each other, you knew those eyes. The back to school discussion. It was practically protocol now.

“I can see you both eying each other, is it about school?” You let out, your tiny eyes flitted between your parents. Your father smiled, that large grin that lifted of his features, his sliver eyes glinted and he merely nodded. “As a matter of fact yes. Your mother and I know you’ll be starting up year eight soon.” Your father moved to pinch your cheeks, “growing a bit old ain’t you?” He joked. You giggled, but the sentiment was just as felt. You were getting older.

You were usually star pupil, always getting the highest marks in exams and projects. You were use to being the new kid, that never changed but it didn’t help when you started school back up again, it usually left you with anxiety, trying to fit in a new environment. You delt with many different children in the past, angry children, cruel, kind, clever, plain mad. That wasn’t what you were worried about. You were more worried about the logistics of the day. Which classroom would you go too, would you need your kit for physical education? What if you lost it or misplaced it? Would the teachers be angry?

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine come Monday.” Your mother spoke, “Kilton grammar School is a perfect educational school, I was just having a chat with that Dawn Bell from four houses down, and she tells me your little friend Andie is starting up year eight as well”. At that you can feel your mothers sly finger meet your stomach, you thrash as she tickles you. But all you can think about is that Andie will be at school. With you. It shouldn’t make you as happy as you feel, but you welcome the excitement.

The rest of the weekend flashes by so fast you’d think it never happened. Your mum finishes the final touches of the house, decorating it with as many colorful portraits and antique clocks. Your father helps you pick out your school uniform. Just as my school you’ve been to Kilton Grammar school is no different. Your father holds up your polo uniform, Kilton grammar emblem embedded in the fabric. He holds it up in his hands, it looks tiny compared to your father. Like he’s some giant. It makes a grin overtake your features.

“I quite like this shade of blue. Nicer than your old pair of uniforms you had to wear.” He puts it down on your bed, “now for your jumper”. You watch as he puts it next to your polo, “I say we go with these smart trousers, it will be a bit nifty when we drop of. Wouldn’t want you catching cold now would we? Or perhaps we could go with some smart skirts and wear some long socks, it’s a while since I was in primary school. Is that still allowed jelly bean?”.

You laugh, “i think I’ll go with the smart trousers papa”. He nods, “grand idea.”

It’s no surprise when on Monday morning your eyes open even before your alarm wakes. It’s the early hours of the morning, you can tell from the way the sun is not quite up, not yet ready to greet the sun. You yawn, pad to the lavatory, brush your teeth and smarten your hair. You settle for a dull ponytail, bunching up your brown bristles of hair. You wish you had gotten your mothers honey curls, but you hadn’t. Dull old brown suited you. It was then that your eyes caught sight of the sycamore tree. And you wondered how the view looked from way up high, it had been otherworldly to be up that high last time. But the colour from the morning sky must have been otherworldly. You had half and to sneak out, have a quick climb, perhaps ease your anxious anxiety, but your parents had woken up a bit long after.

Your mother busied herself with breakfast, putting a plate of fried eggs, one very juicy tomato and some mushrooms in front of your face. You had barley eaten two bites, your stomach filled to the brims with nerves when your mother had dragged you to the car, “we’ll be late if we wait any longer!” She chimed. You buckled in and watched as your father’s car rolled out of the driveway. You couldn’t help but flit your eyes to the Bell house. It looked quiet from the outside, and you wondered if Andie was half as nervous as you were. You laughed at that, Andie didn’t seem like the kind to be nervous about these type of things. You were sure right about now she was as calm and chipper as you were. Perhaps she would busy right at this very moment berating her little sister as they sat in the car, “Becca would you please stop that chattering!! It’s hurting my head!” You could practice hear.

As soon as the school gates appeared you could feel your chest halt, the way it always did when you were nervous. That familiar drop in the pit of your stomach. ‘I can do this. I can do this. Just be calm’ you recited in your head like a mantra. Your mother took your trembling hand in hers, and walked you across the cold nifty England air into the building. You took in the school corridors, watching all the children pass you in the halls. Your nerves seemed to run rampant as you took in the sight of all the halls, endless amount of classrooms and was that a stairwell?? How were you ever going to memorize this information? Where were the lavatories? The Headmasters office? The nurse?

“I can see your feeling a bit overwhelmed at all this new information” your mother’s voice spoke, and she very calmly took your hands in hers, her green eyes soft as she eyed you. “Remember what we practiced last time? Breathe in….” You did, “and out”.

She smiled once you did, moving to kiss your forehead. “Now you are going to have a wonderful day! I’ll let you in on a secret-dad and I are nervous as well. It’s always scary to try new things. But I’ll tell you what, when I come to pick you we’ll pick up a few sausage rolls”. How could you ever say no to that?

After your mum walked you to your class, you breathed in a sigh of relief when Mrs Edmunds came up to you, she was a soft young women, couldn’t have been older than your aunt, fresh out of Uni you assumed. “Well hello Miss Y/n. I’m Mrs Edmund! Welcome to year eight. Why don’t you go ahead and have a seat where you like, you can leave your kit on the table”.

Your brows furrowed as you eyes the corridors, flitting around for your father. He never would leave without saying any sort of parting. Especially on first days. Your chest began to heave slightly faster, what if he didn’t come?

“Looking for me jelly bean?” You immediately let out a sigh, falling into his arms and holding fast. Your father always had a way to calm your racing heart. It was like he just knew what to say. Some kind of magic only he had. After a long embrace and a kiss on the cheek he smiled, that wide glinting smile, sliver eyes looking grey in the light of the hallway. “"After while, crocodile."

"Too-da-loo, kangaroo." You reached down, squeezing his hand.

"Gotta go, buffalo." You squeezed back.

"Give me a hug, ladybug." He moved forward and pulled you into another hug and kissed the top of your head again.

"Take care, polar bear." You squeezed him tighter. He laughed, before pushing you into the classroom, your parents waving once last time before they disappeared down the hall and out the doors of Kilton Grammar. You were officially alone.

You scanned the classroom, eyes flitting to new faces you had never seen before, your hands were shaking in front of you, and you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. You hated the first day of school. Hated it.

“Oi” a soft voice flitted behind your ear, you turned taking in a young boy, his stature was just few inches taller than you, and you noticed the way his hair was dark and neatly pushed back. His dark brown eyes seemed to fill with kindness, it nearly radiated of him in waves. His eyes were soft as they laid on you, like he knew how hard your day had already been. “I’m Sal, Would you like to sit with me? I’m not much of a good talker but my mum says I can listen very well”.

At first you felt the overwhelming feeling of shame fill your chest, you were eight years old not some toddler, but Sal didn’t seem to mind. In fact his smile was wide and calm as he kept his eyes on you. Like a secure hug, and you knew at that exact moment that Sal Singh would be a friend you would never forget. He was still as he waited for you, his cheeks a red shade as you gave him a shy smile. His cheeks reddened, You shook his extended hand, offering your name. He smiled, his eyes alight. “I like your name, sounds like some fairytale character. Much better than what my mum picked. Sal” he retorted, his mouth lifting in disgust. “Not much of a name is it?” He joked.

You took your seat next to his, smiling when he held out an extra pencil. You quickly learned that Sal was smart, clever in the way he spoke. He was more mature than the other kids that sat behind you. He spoke about his mother and father, his baby brother who he adored to bits, Ravi his name was. you couldn’t help but feel like Sal had somehow in his own way, came to your rescue. Like some Angel sent to make your day better. Brighter, jovial.

“Would you mind if we sat together in the canteen?” He had nervously asked, his fingers bending his pencil, like he was waiting for you to run off and never speak to him again. “I wouldn’t sit with anyone else even if I could. I haven’t had a proper introduction to anyone else” you secretly whispered, and Sal’s eyes lit up, his dark eyes reminding you of the bark on the sycamore tree back home. “Wicked” he spoke. “I can introduce you to some friends if you’d like” he spoke, and before you could object he was calling names you’d never heard before.

“Emma! Chloe!” He called, and soon two new girls your age trotted over. Emma eyed you as Sal introduced you, she was shy. You could tell by the way she stood, her feet not quite touching. Lopsided.

“I’m Emma Hutton!” She greeted out, bellowing her name like she was some star in a film. You laughed, shaking her hand. Narcissism tendencies much? “Do you like hamsters?” The girl beside Emma questioned, her voice so high pitched it ricocheted of the walls. Before you could answer Emma was answering for you, “of course she does Chloe!! I was so jealous when Andie got one last summer holiday! And for what?”.

Your heart rattled against your rib cage at the girls name. Come to think of it you hadn’t seen Andie on the way to school, “Andie gets everything she wants because she’s a daddy’s girl”. Chloe sniped back, “As long as she’s the perfect obedient little girl her papa will cave for anything” Emma spoke, huddling up next to you and whispering like it was a big secret no one else should tell.

Curiosity killed the cat, you had seen Andie’s reaction to the mention of her father, had seen her tense and run off. That didn’t seem like the typical “Daddy’s girl” the girls had been referring to but before you could ask it was Sal who beat you too it. “We shouldn’t talk about Andie behind her back. It’s gossiping. Andie wouldn’t like it, and neither do I.”

“Oh come on Sal!” Chloe began, “even you have to admit that Andie gets everything she wants! She never has to work for it”. You could already detect some odd system of hierarchy. All you knew was you didn’t like it, it made something pull in your stomach. Your conscience telling you it wasn’t right. Yet you couldn’t pull away. It was Andie they were talking about.

You watched as Sal’s eyebrows rose, eying both girls. It seemed he was the mediator of the group, the moral compass. “So what of Andie is given everything? Money and gifts aren’t everything girls. And I wouldn’t joke about Andie’s father, it’s not easy being a bell” he stated, his shoulders deflating like he knew something. A glint in his dark eyes. You willed yourself to follow him back to the desks. Waiting beside the boy as he breathed. Simple sigh, he chucked softly, “sorry about the girls. They think they know everyone’s business.” You were about to say something when he spoke, “Andie was right about you. You have a kind heart” he spoke, moving to lay his hand on yours. You could feel your heart race, your cheeks red. No one had ever said that before. “Takes one to know one Sal” you spoke. The smile on his face was victory enough.

As if summoned Andie had appeared through the threshold, school uniform on and tired blue watercolored eyes taking in the classroom, you tried to school your features when you caught sight of her, giving her a small smile, and you felt your heart aching when she only eyed you before walking to Chloe and Emma. You could feel your heart pummel in your chest. But as soon as you felt your eyes get teary the chair squeaked against the floorboards. Andie bell had sat next to you. You of all people. You could see Emma and Chloe let out a huff, obviously wanting Andie to sit next to them.

“Hiya y/n” she let out, her smile wide as it had been when she left your house. You had smiled back, just as wide, but Andie caught your eyes drifting back to Chloe and Emma, eyes staring daggers at you, as if you had stolen their best mate. “I wouldn’t worry about them” Andie whispered, “I sat with them all last year and it didn’t do me any good. Thought I’d sit with you for a change”.

“I’d like that very much” you uttered.

“Good. Because I like you y/n” she said so matter of factly. The words made your cheeks heat up. Andie bell liked you. What a privilege your eight year old mind thought.

Andie had a glint in her eye, the kind that made your stomach twist and your innocent mind twist with fascination, she was a character that was for sure. You had seen the way Chloe and Emma has stood up the minute that Andie had walked in. Like some toppled toy soldiers standing up at attention at the first sign of the commanding officer. Andie had only eyed them as she passed, stopping to say something to Chloe, you had been to far to hear, but it obviously left Chloe with a sour expression on her face. You knew from your first introduction that Andie came from a toxic house, you had met a lot of them moving around so much. But none of them had taking a liking to you, no matter how hard you had tried, expect Andie.

Andie eyed you with her wide childish eyes, “you know mum told me that I should start hanging out with nicer girls. Chloe and Emma are all good and well but-“ Andie halted, her jaw set in a square. Tiny brain trying to make out a sentence. “Your kind. We could use a bit of that. How would you like to join our group y/n?”.

Now looking back you almost wish you could drag your eight year old self back and tell her that this group was not what you had thought it was. That this group would one day leave you high and dry. Dump you like wasted trash in the bin. That it would hurt just as much coming from the eight year old blonde who had looked at you that day like you were an Angel from heaven. Perhaps she had, but those days were gone now.

Andie’s invitation was simple. her eyes wide and pleading. You nodded, and just like that, you stepped into her orbit. In class, she claimed the seat next to you, her pencil case spilling over. “Oops,” she’d say, brushing her knuckles against yours. “Clumsy me.” You found you didn’t mind how many times it would fall into your desk, in fact you wished it had happened more. It was a confusing thought. You remember asking your parents about it on the car ride home. Your dad had nearly stepped on the gas pedal too hard, and your mum had eyed him like they knew something you hadn’t recognized yet.

Andie’s brashness was legendary. She wielded sarcasm like a sword, her words cutting through the air. But you saw beyond the armor—the tremor in her hands when someone mentioned her father, the way her laughter sometimes cracked at the edges. You were surprised when she would eye you with soft eyes, her words far more kinder and softer which was different from the standoffish Girl who had fallen of her bike.

Chloe and Emma eyed you with suspicion, their accents dripping with skepticism. “What’s so special about you?” Chloe would ask, her freckled nose wrinkling. “Andie’s never been this clingy.”

Andie’s soft spot for you was evident. She’d slide into the seat next to you during classes, her elbows brushing against yours. Emma scowled from across the room, but Andie ignored her, whispering secrets to you instead. “Did you know,” she’d say, “that the periodic table is like a giant puzzle? I’ve cracked it, you know. Hydrogen and helium are the corner pieces.” That alone had almost surprised you, Andie didn’t seem like the type of student to study hard. But she had. Sometimes all night. Anything to get away from her parents fighting in the other room and perhaps she had done so because she had seen you looking at the periodic chart a little too long during library hours. You were clever as well. Andie didn’t understand the feeling, she’s never felt it before. This feeling in her gut that made her want to please you.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Andie, stop geeking out.”

But you loved it—the way Andie’s eyes sparkled when she talked about her hamster Roadie, the way she shared her lunchtime sandwich without hesitation often sneaking an extra Jaffa cake just for you. She wasn’t mean to you like she was to Chloe and Emma. Instead, she’d pass notes during maths, doodling random thoughts and questions. She’d ask you questions about what you thought of her outfit, would gleam when you would say she looked wonderful.

Outside of School you and Andie would meet each other by the sycamore tree. “You really weren’t lying when you said it was big” Andie had spoken, her blonde brows raised as she eyed the tree. “You mean you haven’t seen it?” You asked, chuckling. How had Andie not seen it after all these years of living on Hogg hill?

Andie could see your confused amused eyes and she only chuckled sardonically her usual hint of cruel ness left out as she eyed you, shrugging her shoulders. “I guess I never was a much of an observer” her reply was.

“You want to climb it with me?” You asked, grabbing Andie by her shoulders. Excitement bursted out of your veins and the thought of being so high up in the air with Andie Bell. Andie was never afraid of anything, you had known her for a while now. She was the queen bee of the group, confident, alarmingly confident. You had seen her dig sharp mean replies to Emma and Chloe like it was the most easiest thing in the world. So it confused you when she eyed the tree with less than enthusiastic eyes.

“I think we would be much safer on the ground. Less likey to break a bone…or a nail” she commented.

Behind that comment had been fear. You knew that. With soft eyes you came closer to the girl, your shoulders brushing.

“It’s alright to be scared” you spoke. “Being scared means your human. My mum always says that being scared is like a superpower” you laughed. You had never thought that true, till now.

Andie had eyed you with wide unbelieving eyes. Her signature smile on her features.

“Everything in that sentence was wrong. How is being scared like a superpower? If anything being scared is a weakness”.

You knew she believed her words. Was it her father who had told her that? You hadn’t met her father yet. He seemed far to scary, too quiet for your liking. Like he was watching, observing. Your father had met him. “Jason Bell offered to take me golfing next week. He seems like a kind bloke.” But you had seen how his daughter reacted to just his name alone and right then in your eight year old mind you had tagged him as dangerous.

In the end Andie Bell had climbed the tree with you. It didn’t take much hackle, and you were surprised when she had climbed even faster than you. The tree was high up and you could tell from the way Andie’s fingers clung to the bark, her nails digging into the tree trunk with a true fervor.

You watched her gray eyes take in the scene. The wind was soft this time of day. The birds flying past. Little Kilton was no longer a mystery. Andie could see everything. Could feel everything. The sky which was a darker cloudy color. The surrounding woods nearby, the old farmhouse that was deserted that in a few years would become infamous to her.

“Are you still scared?” You has asked.

Andie had scoffed, “why would I be scared? I’m only a few hundred feet of the ground! My father would kill me if he saw me up here this high” Andie spoke, her eyes taking in the view from bellow.

You settled in next to her. Your shoulders brushing hers. Andie’s fingers had made their way down to lay next to yours. Inches apart.

The silence had been what you remembered the most. Pure silence. Nothing but the wind and the soft sounds of Little Kilton bellow. Andie was different up here. With you. The silence seemed to awake something in her.

“My dad never hits me”. The words hit you like a freight train.

“What does he do then?” You asked, watching as Andie’s eyes began to tear.

“He-I know he loves me. Mum says he does. But sometimes I’m not so sure. Sometimes I think he’d rather be somewhere else.”

“Sometimes I think I’m not good enough. Doesn’t matter what marks I get on an exam, he’s always angry. Always quick to yell. He says such mean things. Cruel things. He thinks it doesn’t hurt me…but it does. I try to brush it off, to remember he loves me. But…sometimes I can’t”.

You don’t pry. You hadn’t noticed Andie’s fingers had inched closer and closer to yours till they were touching. Your stomach lurched and you immediately could feel your cheeks flush. It took a second but Andie wiped her tears.

“What was it you were saying? About scared being a superpower?” Andie changed the subject.

You let your eyes look bellow, watching as both your feet dangled of the branch, feet upon feet of air bellow.

Andie looked down too, her eyes widened, her fingers gripping yours a little tighter.

You licked your lips, “does it scare you?” You spoke, eying bellow. Gravity and the tree were all that stopped you two from tumbling down.

Andie nodded.

“Good. My mum told me that’s good. Because your heart is beating so hard..you can almost feel it in your palms. Blood and oxygen is pumping though your brain, think of it like rocket fuel” you laughed. “Right now you can run faster and fight harder. You can jump higher than you’ve ever jumped! It’s almost like you can slow down time. I’d wager that the scariest girl up here is you”.

Andie had laughed. “Chloe and Emma would agree with you”.

You must have sat up on that three for hours. Just you and Andie. You spoke of your time in London. How the streets were always crowded and the kids in your school weren’t any better. You spoke of your grandparents, how your gran always made the best Yorkshire pudding. Andie had smiled at that, saying she was pretty sure her gran made the best Yorkshire pudding.

It was only when a small voice from bellow caught your attention. Andie’s eyes had trailed down and suddenly she sighed, “it’s almost supper time. We’ve been up here for hours. We better get down and wash up”.

You nodded, not quite ready to go down back to real life. Back home. You could tell Andie thought the same. Could see it in the way she took one last look at little Kilton. “Thanks for this” she spoke.

“I’ve never had a friend like you before”.

You smiled, your little heart beating in your chest.

“I’ve never had one quite like you either Andie Bell”.

You let Andie go down first, following behind. It was only when your trainers hit the ground that you noticed the small blonde who had been calling Andie from bellow. You almost laughed. Andie had described her little sister well enough to you. You knew she loved her, no matter how oddly she showed it.

Becca Bell stood staring at the tree in wonder, blonde waves looking like she had just awoken from a nap. Her arms eagerly holding a small hamster in her soft fingers. The hamster looked calm, didn’t put up a fight. Perhaps he had known it wasn’t going to help.

“Andie! Mum wants you home for supper! That tree looks high! Did you almost fall off? Can I climb it?” Becca chatted of like a broken record. You couldn’t help but laugh at her cute little face.

Andie dusted her pants trousers, eyes on alert as she spotted what was lodged between her little sisters hands. “Becca Elizabeth Bell what have I told you about taking Roadie outside his cage!” Andie began, taking the hamster from her younger sisters hands, you watched as the little creature huddled into Andie’s warm hands.

Becca didn’t at all seem bothered by her sisters antics, you assumed she was use to her outbursts and spurts of emotions. She only shrugged her shoulders, “I know what you told me Andie but you should have seen the poor little things! He was thrashing against his bars like mad!! Mum let me take him out because his chattering was making her ill”.

“Is this your special friend Andie!! The one you told mum about? Are you the girl who helped Andie after she fell off her bike? I’m Becca!! I like candy floss and I have a hamster named Toadie!” She squealed of, making you smile. You adored her already.

“Pleasure to meet you miss Bell!” You shook her hand, and she smiled, blushing. “I like you. All of Andie’s friends are quite rude to me. Except Sal. I like him. Do you know Sal?”.

“I do. He’s a very lovely person. Very kind”.

“Can you teach me how to climb that tree?? Ooh! Can you play a game of what time is it Mr wolf?? Andie never plays with me” at this the small blonde loved forward, her eyes mischievous, “She’s a bit of a sore loser! Hates losing”.

You hid in your laughter. Andie had caught on and immediately took you by the hand, putting enough distance from her little sister, “y/n has no time to play childish games with you Becca. She’s my friend! Not yours!”.

You would have loved to hear those words if were not for the fact that Becca looked hurt. Her blue eyes had dropped and her bottom lip trembled. You slowly unhooked your hands from Andie’s. Giving her a pointed look.

“No need for a cry Becca” you began, instinctively you reached out for her, pulling her to your chest. Becca immediately wrapped her arms around you, “so you’ll play with me then?” She looked beyond happy.

You smiled.

“Of course! And Andie will play too, won’t you Andie?”

She just grumbled.

[nolanhollogay]

"can i kiss you?"

in my mikeyjohnb feels.....

cw for mikey talking about nsfw things dgdf but not in a sexual way he's just Talking and also mikeyjohnb smoking oui'd

+

It felt like it had been years since the last time Mikey and John B hung out one on one, which was really kind of sad because they used to live in each other's back pockets.

But it was fine. They had all the time in the world to sit and do nothing together.

Especially now that John B had what Edgar pegged as his "teen divorce" from Sarah. (He'd said it in passing, obviously joking, but it made Pope shoot orange soda out of his nose, so it obviously stuck.)

Mikey knew that it was because of his own pent up feelings, but he was kinda glad they were broken up. He missed when John B was John B and not JohnBandSarah. When they weren't all risking their necks for her every three seconds. He liked her, he really did, but it was good to have his friend back.

So, they were in John B's bed, sharing a weed pen that JJ stole off a Kook. He was supposed to be here with them, also partaking, but he said he had "more important things to do" which was JJ speak for being in gross love and hanging out with his boyfriend.

"Hey," he tapped John B on the arm to get his attention. "When JJ and Edgar bang, who do you think is on top?"

John B went through the five stages of grief in under thirty seconds. "Why would I want to talk about that? That's not my business. And Edgar is, like, suuuper Catholic. I bet they don't even have sex." He paused, obviously thinking about it. "Probably JJ."

"First of all, they're definitely having sex, and they're definitely gross and sappy about it. I've seen the hickies JJ leaves on him. Secondly, I feel like it might be Edgar. Church people are always secretly nasty," Mikey said seriously, passing the pen back. "I walked in on him giving JJ head the other day."

John B gasped. "You didn't."

"I did!" Mikey laughed at the memory. "JJ wanted to murder me."

John B blew a cloud of smoke into the air, laughing as well. "I'm surprised he didn't."

"Edgar doesn't condone murder," Mikey teased, "Gimme the pen back, greedy."

"It's not even yours!" John B said, handing it over anyway. He lied on his side to watch Mikey smoke. "Can I kiss you?"

Mikey choked, dropping the pen onto the bed and sitting up as he hacked up a lung. "What?"

"I don't know. We don't have to. I'm just high as fuck and you look pretty and I want to kiss you."

There was a lot of reasons why this was a bad idea. 1. John B was still dealing with his previously mentioned teen divorce. Mikey wasn't sure he was equipped to be a rebound. 2. Mikey had been half in love with John B for pretty much his entire life, and he thought he was getting over those feelings. If they kissed, he'd fall headfirst, right back in. And it would be pathetic. 3. Probably most importantly, Mikey's ex boyfriend was a literal murderer who wanted John B dead, and would absolutely lose his shit if he found out something happened between them.

Still..

"Yeah, okay."

John B's giant fucking cow eyes managed to get even wider. "Seriously? We don't have to..."

Mikey rolled his eyes. "I'm a fully consenting adult, Johnny Boy. Now man up and kiss me."

John B scoffed. "You're such a loser."

"A loser you want to k–"

John B's mouth cut him off.

Mikey's very first thought was Wow, he really needs chapstick. His second thought was Oh my God, I'm kissing my best friend. Then his brain turned to TV static as John B grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

There weren't fireworks, like in the movies. And it didn't feel like hundreds of hummingbirds were inside of him, which was how JJ described his first kiss with Edgar when he was drunk off of a USA FourLoko. It just felt like it was something that was supposed to be happening. Like puzzle pieces meeting up.

John B pulled away, breathless, and Mikey bit his lip to stop himself from smiling. "S'at okay?"

Mikey nodded, scanning his face to see his reaction. He didn't look upset or confused or anything. He just looked like John B.

"Do you wanna.." He glanced down at Mikey's lips, "do it again?"

Mikey had never wanted anything more in his life. "Fuck yeah I do."

John B laughed, before leaning in again, sliding his hand into Mikey's hair.

[koreandragon]

this one is really coming out of left field so feel free to ignore it, but i think this might be a thought you appreciate. I just feel like the older i get the more i'm thinking the ancient athenians were right when they said you gotta watch some fucked up shit happen on stage to purge yourself of negative emotions. like i think characters in stories should be fucked up little freaks that do some morally questionable if not terrible things to each other because they refuse to go to therapy (1/2)

i just think people have gotten a little too righteous about fictional stories and don't want to consume anything that challenges their world view, but i think doing that is a necessary part of not just any media diet but of knowing who you are and where exactly your morals lie and i frankly don't think enough media is providing people with the catharsis they need to figure it out. anyways if this made no sense to you the wikipedia page for catharsis explains it a lot better. (2/2)

you're absolutely right and you should say it. not to circle everything back to vincenzo but that show (if we're talking in terms of kdramas) i think is the perfect example of that. and while we know the fucked up shit our protagonist does is in favor of a common good it's still fucked up shit. and part of that catharsis is knowing the evil doers get what's coming to them. one aspect of what you mentioned is the anti-hero like vincenzo, deadpool, daredevil etc who achieve good by doing bad but you still root for them. "but they kill people" well susan it's fiction. do you need a warning that states at the beginning that the writer doesn't condone murder? is that what you want?

loved watching dexter. he's not an anti hero, he's only a hero in his own mind. but damn if i did not have the time of my life watching him execute people in his little kill room.

i care a lot with rosemund pike. she scammed old people and yeah i wanted her dead but what an enjoyable time! what a great movie it was.

gone girl another rosemund pike movie. just two people destorying each other hand in unlovable hand.

the john wick movies!! i specifically remember sitting in the cinema during parabellum and just GRINNING throughout the whole movie because the fight scenes and the way he plowed through his enemies was so cold and brutal it brought me near tears. like i genuinely think it altered my brain chemistry and cleaned out all the toxins in my system. genuine catharsis.

so many people want media to be sterile and unproblematic, just an uwu little blorbo who has never even gotten a parking ticket in their life because somehow the fact that you enjoy a movie that has murder in it means you condone murder in real life. because that's how that works.

[terrence-silver]

I had another thought the other day that I just had to share with you!!! 🥰 Tons of love, you da best!

But for real, I was thinking about how Terry would be engaging with one night stands, because even if he doesn't care for them I think he would absolutely want to show off. Young Terry more so than older Terry (not sure if older Terry would bother with one night stands?).

And Terry's just like: Here's my vast collection of cars and all of these paintings are priceless and look at these artifacts I collected and that's the thing I am obsessing over the most. I can see Terry just having a ton of historical pieces and artifacts from eras that in some way, shape, or form, he finds inspiring. But they might be the most violent and horrific eras to anyone else.

Like this person was just welcomed into his home for a quick fuck and on the way to the bedroom Terry stops and gestures at a knife display that would befit a museum:

"This is one of the knives used to murder Julius Caeser in cold blood. Allegedly. And this is a Khopesh, you don't know what that is, but it was used by the Egyptians. Mainly for beheading. Beautiful isn't it?"

And the one night stand is just like... Okayyyyy~ 🙄😬😐

Terry's short gesture to a glass case that holds armor, perhaps becomes an entire lecture on medieval japan, china, korea, etc. (whatever he has decided he likes the most).

"And if you wanted something, they were not above slaughtering someone... as well as their entire family. It's a shame those methods aren't as popular as they once were."

This would extend to everything brutal I think: torture, wars, monstrous political figures, Terry would have a surprising amount of knowledge on all of it. He would refer to these things like one refers to recipes in a cookbook, or utilize these events as a guide for situations he too faces or has faced throughout his life.

Not to mention, in Cobra Kai, he quotes Sun Tzu's the Art of War a lot. I can imagine him keeping a copy in the night stand next to his bed or somewhere closely on his desk.

Back to the one night stand, who is just like wtf?? 🤨

And then maybe one night, he's going through this whole spiel on the french and their love for guillotines and he realizes that the person isn't particularly bored or freaked out and then he realizes that they actually are enjoying themselves as he talks about blood and death and history that fascinates him. And then, one step further, they spew their own facts that they know and they might even disagree with some of his views. In any other case, he might be extremely annoyed or pissed off that 1) someone might know more than him and 2) they don't condone the violence as Terry does. But instead, he comes to the conclusion that this person is never leaving his home again and that they officially belong to him; a conclusion he came to before they even made it to the bedroom.

I have a lot more where that came from, but I thought I might tone it down.

(I know this is a lot, I got a little carried away 🤣)

Terry's like a little boy with his trains.

Choo-choo, watch out, here's an antique torture device I bought on a licitation at an upward of 4. million dollars. An original Robespierre was beheaded with. It belongs in a museum, but instead, it is here, right in my basement, along with a collection of other, equally grizzly items. Choo-choo, here is a silk cord Ottoman Sultans used to strangulate and assassinate disobedient concubines with --- suggestion is, he wants to test it out personally in one of his sex romps and for the sake of kink. Choo-choo, here is a ritualistic Hara-Kiri knife from the 1700′s Samurai used to impale themselves on. The blade is deep brown, like copper, with all the blood it has dried up over the centuries. When Terry cleans it, it bleeds still and he relishes that in particular. And he makes an effort to clean it, or have his one night stand clean it for him while he watches. He gets a kick out of it, yes. It amuses him. It arouses him. I think his one night stands would be exposed to a world of weirdness.Deliberately. The sex is extraordinary, yes, but it comes at the price of his morbidity. Comes at the price of being exposed to his eccentric habits --- which are plenty.

Nothing’s for free, right?

But, I think Terry, especially Terry in the 80's, goes out of his way to showcase a sort of shock factor to his quick fucks and he gets a gleeful kick out of it. One night stands have their uses outside of recreational sex, because people talk and Terry knows they talk. Gossip is a thing, especially in high profile circles. Reputation matters, and if he fucks enough people, sooner or later, the LA area will be filled with stories how that one Terry Silver who lives up on The Hills is a strange, unusual individual indeed, and it is putting it lightly. I think he'd want to cultivate a certain image. A certain mystique. He wants to be that morbid, classy, alluring Billionaire known for strange interests and that he is as seductive as he is daunting --- which isn’t an image at all. It is the truth. Yes, he wants to brag. He wants to show off his treasure trove of unusual things. Unusual cars. Unusual statues around his mansion. Unusual furniture.Unusual sex toys.I think old man Terry in present way does this too, except, in a different way.He doesn’t do one night stands, necessarily. He sometimes does detached relationships that feel like business escorts. Which they are.

But, Terry in his later years?

He ‘tones himself down’ and wears masks in front of his makeshift, equally toned down social circle and all you think you’ll get with him is a mature guy with a penchant for fine liquor he keeps in his private cellar, nodding with amicable, rehearsed smiles whine he sips his vino. Except, he might’ve gotten even darker as the decades passed than his 80′s counterpart. He possibly has even more to tuck away than before. He has developed a sleek, immaculate, pristine exterior, but beneath it, Terry is still about the knives, sharp objects, items and collectibles with harrowing undertones; archaic torture devices are replaced with digitally controlled modern ones, his taste in sculptures became oddly avant-garde and even more questionable (he owns something called The Arch of Pain, featuring a post-modernist rendition of the human body, you guessed it, arched in pain --- his social circle was amazed by that one without realizing quite what it meant), the walls of his house are riddled minimalist artwork that is so haunting in its simplicity it screams unsettling and uncanny valley. He’s clinical. Cold. A bit neon. His space of living seems normal. Alarmingly normal. Until one realizes it isn’t normal. It is tactically devoid of too personalization, so people cannot get to know him outright.

He seems reformed. He seems clear-cut and straight-laced.

Only on the surface, though. 

I think his beloved would have hell of a time realizing all of these things.

Terry is fascinated by the gruesomest aspects of history, yes.

Cruel political figures.

Explicit literature.

He’s fascinated, in part, by the occult.

Wars and massacres and the darkest humanity has to offer.

And all of this is one way or another somewhere in his surroundings.

Hidden, in a clever way, just like he himself is.