#felix lasted one day out of jail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

recoveringdreamer · 1 year

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TIMING: current PARTIES: @closingwaters & @recoveringdreamer LOCATION: darkling lake SUMMARY: teagan and felix find their spa day interrupted by teagan's 'duties.' CONTENT WARNINGS: references to parental death & sibling death

Rage was the tempest of emotions, a turbulent storm churning with sorrow and anger. Like thunder and lightning colliding in the dark, relentless sky that made up the core of the nix’s heart. She didn’t tremble, she didn’t shake. As she set up each new trap in the surrounding forest of the lake, Teagan was the calmest she had been in weeks. For as long as she could remember, the storm never broke, it never ceased to be a calamitous eruption, but now?

All Teagan could feel was a slight rumble. She’d failed before, but this time would be different. She’d be far more calculated and far more careful. Having a desperate wish, Teagan would heed the ghosts of her regrets and failings, accepting that her heart would always be haunted by hundreds of ghosts. There would be no exorcism, and there would be no turning back. She’d done that enough when she let her family die.

“Okay, next we’re going to polish this off with some spritz.” A sweet aroma danced in the air as the bottle was squeezed after the face mask was removed. It had been days since the traps were set, with no bites. Patience would just have to be taken over satisfaction, and as she waited, Teagan would enjoy her times of peace. Invite Felix over, who was quickly becoming something of a very good friend. They needed someone to help them relax, and Teagan needed the same. It only made sense to utilize her time that way.

“How are ya feelin’? Posh and relaxed?”

This was definitely new. Self care wasn’t something Felix had ever really been taught, even before their mother’s death. While she had been more worldly than their father, she hadn’t had much time for face masks and spa days, too busy teaching her children how to live in two worlds without knowing they’d one day be plucked up and forced to exist only in one. After she was gone, of course, the concept itself became laughable. Their father went into survival mode, consumed by his grief and his vengeance, and there was no room for anything outside of it. ‘Self care,’ in that cabin in the woods that was half home and half jail cell, was getting a few hours of sleep before being shoved out the door to patrol the perimeter and kill anything that dared to break it.

So this was a new experience. But Felix didn’t think it was a bad one. They weren’t sure what they were supposed to be feeling with the weird clay resting upon their face, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. And Teagan, as always, was good company. She seemed serious about making sure Felix had a genuinely relaxing day, and they didn’t think anyone else had ever done that before.

“It’s nice,” they confirmed, smiling a little. “Relaxing. What about you? Are you having fun? It’s your spa day, too. And we’re in your house, so, you know, I think it’s important that you enjoy yourself, too.”

A soft smile laid sweetly on Teagan’s face, eyes twinkling with joy that Felix managed to actually feel relaxed. Everything she was, was meant to protect. Whether it was with claws and fists, or with gentle whispers and lingering affections, she could do both. “Good, good.” She booped Felix’s nose playfully, spritzing herself now that she was done taking care of them. Always a second thought, always last to be fed. “Look at me, I’m relaxing, too, enaid. I’m having loads of fun. Taking care of others is my nature.” Her smile was reassuring, and she planted a kiss to Felix’s forehead before grabbing her cane and heading to the kitchen for some snacks.

“All…right! I made a delicious tray of goodies. Stones, berries—not the ones that will make us tired grumps—cheeses, and some salami for your carnivorous side. None for me though. Too much salt!” The tray was placed down with a quiet and metallic clink, the arrangement something like a Pinterest photo. And honestly, that’s exactly where Teagan got it from. She spent hours on Pinterest and YouTube trying to figure out how to do it all. Thankfully, it came out beautifully. “Go ahead and dig in. I’ll get the wine and–” A chime interrupted her thought, freezing Teagan into one spot for a few beats before she collected herself. Traps have been set off. They needed to be checked.

“I need to do something.” She excused herself calmly, lying with a bright smile as she walked backwardly toward the door. “Enjoy the heated blanket and snacks, and I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Taking one last look at the chime, Teagan bursted into a sprint, straight toward the trap connected to the alarm.

Felix looked at Teagan carefully, trying to ensure that she really was relaxing. She worked herself a little too hard, sometimes. They hadn’t known her long, but they could still tell. She reminded them of their oldest sister, in that way; taking on too much responsibility, taking care of everyone but herself. But she did seem to be relaxing now, and they offered a satisfied nod. “Okay,” they said, “good. That’s good.” The last thing they wanted was to be a burden here, to be someone Teagan sacrificed her own comfort for. That sort of thing never sat right with Felix.

They grinned softly at the mention of snacks, nodding their head as their stomach rumbled quietly. Everything she mentioned sounded wonderful, but the salami was especially tempting. The jaguar had been restless ever since their last fight with Razor, the one that left them with an impressive chunk missing from their arm. The injury was carefully hidden beneath their sleeve, and all the other results of the fight were similarly put away beneath clothing. Teagan, Felix knew, would worry, and they couldn’t explain what had happened without explaining the Pit as a whole, and then she’d want to help, and… Felix couldn’t risk anything happening to her. Not for them. It wouldn’t be worth it. “This looks great,” they told her, looking at the spread with an impressed expression. “You did a really good job.”

A chime filled the room, and if Felix hadn’t been looking at Teagan, they might not have thought much of it. But the way she froze up, the way she stilled… There was something about it. And then she was excusing herself, walking backwards and — they heard her feet slamming against the ground as she ran.

Felix was on their feet in an instant. Whatever was going on, it was clearly something dangerous. Why else would Teagan run like that? Shifting enough to allow them to move with all the quick silence of a prowling jaguar, the balam took off after the nymph, silently apologizing as they stalked behind her.

Leaving Felix to their devices felt awful, but there was a responsibility that the nix had taken. She was never one to falter or leave jobs half-done or completed poorly. Seeing her mission through was her only option, until her very last breath. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but nature and Fate didn’t deal in hope, didn’t feed on the prayers of the pawns it moved. Teagan’s journey was a dangerous one, she knew that going in, and she accepted it anyway because that time would be different.

There was more to fight for, a red line to protect. It grew taut with each aching step she took as she hastily made her way through the trees, weaving through the familiar paths until she threaded herself into her destination. Teagan’s eyes widened with wonder and excitement, her focus completely on the hunter struggling to notice anything else, much less the low crunch of dirt behind her.

“Help!” She exclaimed, just as all the others did, not yet realizing what she was there to do. “There’s a trap. Be careful,” She wheezed, frantically trying to remove the small plate of spikes embedded in her thigh. Watching the scene made Teagan laugh, finding it humorous that the stranger had yet to catch on. Though…that was strange. Wardens normally noticed by then, and the woman wore everything a normal hunter would. Could she be a ranger? If she was, then she would still die, but if she was just a human? Teagan bristled at the thought, inching forward.

“What are ya doin’ out here, lass? Dangerous, even in the middle of the day.” Teagan quirked a brow.

“What?! Just help me! Just…” The woman froze, looking every direction and struggling with more ferocity. “Ma’am, you have to come toward me. Please. Get behind me. There’s a—no time! Just listen to me!”

Teagan’s brows knitted together and she looked behind her, seeing nothing. “What ya blabberin’ ‘bout? It’s only—” The sound of something whizzing past the nix interrupted her question, followed by the sound of cracking bark. Whatever she was aiming for, she missed, and Teagan quickly sprang into action by tackling the now confirmed hunter and punching her repeatedly to prevent any more arrows from being shot.

Where was Teagan going? She wasn’t the type to pause an interaction abruptly without good reason, Felix was confident of that. There was a clear sense of purpose to the way she moved, too; a determination that would have certainly been absent had the goal she was striving towards been anything less than important. Whatever she was doing, it mattered. They suspected it was dangerous, too; otherwise, why not invite Felix along?

But Felix could handle dangerous. Teagan might not know that. They knew they didn’t give off the vibes of someone who could take care of themself. They didn’t like violence, even if most of their life had seen various people insisting that they partake in it. More than anything, Felix wanted a life of peace, a way to live without having to fight anyone. But they’d still fight to protect their friends, if they had to. They’d still help Teagan with whatever it was she was moving towards, with whatever that chime had meant.

She slowed, and Felix slowed, too. Their brow furrowed as they heard a voice. Not Teagan’s, not anyone’s familiar, but it was calling out for help. Was that what Teagan had come out here for? Was the alarm to tell her that there was someone in the vicinity who needed help? Felix took a step forward, craning their neck to see what was going on. There was… a woman. She looked like she was trapped in something, though Teagan’s body blocked most of the view.

Shifting their ears, Felix listened in on the conversation, but their confusion only grew as they did so. Teagan wasn’t helping the woman; not right away, at least. And the woman was… warning her? About wh—

An arrow interrupted the balam’s thought process. It embedded itself in the tree next to their head, and they dropped to the ground in anticipation. But no more arrows were fired. Instead, there was the sound of knuckles hitting skin. It was enough to spur Felix forward, the scene laying itself out in front of them. The woman in the trap, with the crossbow full of silver bolts. Teagan, punching her. Blood on the ground that didn’t belong to the nix.

For a moment, Felix was fourteen again. Their father’s claws were dripping red, a man hanging in his grip. These people, mijo, they want to hurt us, their father had insisted quietly. They do. So we hurt them first. What happened to your mother won’t happen to you, to your siblings. We’ll make sure of it.

It made them sick then, the same way it made them sick now. Felix took another step forward, trying desperately to get between Teagan and the woman in the trap. “Teagan, stop! What — What are you doing?”

Felix’s voice was like an alarm bell, a tolling that called for all violence to cease. The meaty and squelching thumping instantly turned into silence, which was quickly replaced by panicked breathing. “I’m-I’m…” Teagan choked out, finally, trembling when she locked eyes with Felix. That’s when it clicked, why the woman had tried to protect the nix and why she had been quick to attack. The hunter was no warden, and she never would’ve been a slayer to begin with—it was daytime. She was a ranger, and she would’ve most certainly hurt Teagan’s friend had she not attacked.

Looking at her bloodied and bruised hands, the fae took a few moments to respond to Felix’s question, unsure and terrified. They had just become friends, relaxing and truly connecting the way they were supposed to. What would Felix think if Teagan told them what she’d done? Knots weaved and tightened impossibly in her stomach, and she stood up to back away. She didn’t dare lock eyes with her friend. The rejection Teagan expected to be there would prove too much for her to bear, and she was terrified of what that would do to what was left of her heart. There was no way she’d be accepted. If her family couldn’t, then how could someone with no ties to her leave their arms open? Losing Felix was inevitable, Teagan knew that. She just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.

“I…I set up traps. After-after one hunter, it started with a few.” A pause, if only to prolong their friendship. “After the second, a few more. Then-then…” Breath hitched in Teagan’s chest, tears streaming warmly down her cheeks. “Then my tail. He took my tail, and I held back as much as I could! I did! I did!” She wiped her cheeks, smearing stinging blood on her face, but hardly caring. “These monsters just take and take and take! When does it end? When, Felix? Because everyday, every night, I see what they did in my nightmares. They took my family, and I watched them do it.” Teagan’s eyes reluctantly landed on Felix’s, desperation filling them, and acceptance trickling down. “Who’s going to stop them?” She croaked, falling to her knees, right next to the still breathing hunter. “Who’s going to stop another child from sitting in blood like me?”

Felix was fourteen the first time their father came home bloody, eyes wild and face alight. They remembered the panic that set in at the sight, remembered running up to him with their heart pounding. Their mother’s death had been so fresh then, so recent, and the idea of losing the only parent they’d had left had been terrifying. What happened, papi? They’d asked desperately, tracing their hands over his arms in search of injury. But there had been none to be found. The blood wasn’t his, he’d told them. There was someone outside. She’d stumbled onto the property, and Felix had never known if she was a hunter tracking them down or if she was just a human who’d gotten lost in the woods. Their father never specified, and they’d been too afraid to ask; they didn’t know, even now, whether or not their father had known the answer.

She’d been the first. She hadn’t been the last.

It wasn’t a common thing. They were far off enough into the woods that people finding their property was rare. Sometimes, they went a year without anyone stumbling onto it. Other times, there would be several spread across just a few months. Every time, though, regardless of the frequency, the end result was the same. Someone came home covered in blood, with a body behind them. The ground outside that cabin in the woods went from a sanctuary to a graveyard, with the parts of the bodies that weren’t ‘put to use’ buried in the dirt in mass unmarked graves. Felix used to keep count of them. Some desperate attempt at retribution, they thought, some quiet way of pretending that they weren’t a part of it. But they lost track, after a while. There were so many bodies. There was so much blood. The ground was rotted with it.

They missed their family. There was no doubt about that. They ached with the absence of them, yearned to see their siblings again, wished they could ask their father for advice on how to get out of the mess they’d made for themself with the Pit. They missed them, so much that it hurt like a physical thing.

But they didn’t miss the blood.

And here was more of it. A different forest floor, a different nearby cabin, but the blood smelled the same. The ranger in the trap was barely breathing, half-dead and very likely entirely unaware of the conversation happening around her. Felix couldn’t take their eyes off of her, couldn’t stop staring at the blood. Their throat felt tight, like they were fourteen again, like they were still in that cabin across from a father they both loved and feared trying desperately to remember how to breathe. “You can’t — It isn’t an excuse,” he choked out, eyes darting to Teagan’s. “I get it. I do. But you can’t… You can’t use your grief to — to justify more violence. Because where does that end, Teagan? Where does — It keeps going. Over and over and over again. You kill her, and — and her child comes to avenge it. And then — and then you kill them, or they kill you and someone avenges that, and it’s just — This isn’t preventing anything. This isn’t stopping anything. It just… prolongs it.”

They moved forward carefully, hands trembling. They did something they’d never done with their father — they knelt down next to the broken body in the trap, and they pressed their fingers carefully against the side of her throat. There was a faint thump against their hand, and they closed their eyes for a moment with a sigh. “She’s alive,” they said quietly. “She’s still alive. Can I — I want to… To get her help. To take her to a hospital, to try to save her. That — Teagan, that’s how you stop it. You can’t end violence with more violence. You can’t stop death with more death. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what you went through, but you can’t keep using it as an excuse. You can’t. You’ll never move on if you do.”

Their father certainly hadn’t, and Felix didn’t want that for their friend. They didn’t want her to be in a cabin in the woods someday with children who loved her just a little bit more than they feared her, didn’t want her to be the monster in her children’s closet the same way the hunters who had hurt her family were the monster in hers. Teagan’s experience was one of a child who lost everything and grew to avenge it, but Felix’s was one of a child who lost everything because of their father’s desperate vengeance. They knew what this sort of thing led to. They wanted better for her. “Help me. Please, help me get her to a doctor. It doesn’t have to be… this.”

Teagan could tell memories were flooding Felix’s mind, a reel of horrors projecting and flickering painfully. Had they bore witness to the same, or something just as vile? Two sides of a coin, flipping endlessly and growing the nausea in their stomachs. But the source of their disgust was not the same. Felix made that clear when they found relief in the beating of the hunter’s heart. She supposed they didn’t understand, couldn’t, no matter how hard they tried.

True, death would never cease if the nix continued to fight. Why was she supposed to move on, though? Why was it okay that the ranger attacked with no regard to the beautiful life she could’ve ended, had the bolt met its mark? “You don’t get it, then.” No one ever could. Teagan watched through a slit of the door as her family fought, one by one being taken out like common animals. Watched as Catrin crawled to the door of the closet her daughter had been thrown in for her safety.

At ten years old, Teagan had witnessed what true evil was, how quickly everything could be torn away. At ten years old, she sat in the warm and sticky blood of her family until it grew cold and thick and dry against her skin. How was that fair? How was it right that Teagan let go of a monster so she could continue and possibly do the same to another family? “I can’t let you do that,” She shook her head vehemently, voice thick and riddled with pain.

“If she lives, then she will heal and hurt someone else. The cycle never ends because hunters will never stop. Who else is going to stop them? What if they hurt you? I won’t let them hurt you. I can’t! You don’t know what I’ve seen!” Teagan all but shrieked, begging Felix to turn around, to let their friend do what she must. There was no malice, no anger toward the Balam. There couldn’t be. “Felix,” Teagan began, crawling to them and hovering her hands over their cheeks so she wouldn’t stain his skin.

“We can’t stop the violence, we can’t, I know that, but we can stop them. That’s what I’m trying to do. I don’t want the families they hunt to live through what I did. I don’t want families to be cut in half because of their traditions!” But Teagan saw no budging, Felix’s eyes were resolute in their decision on helping this monster. She sighed, scooting away and stumbling to her feet as she searched for a direction to run. Watching Felix defend that thing was hard enough, anything more would just be salt in the wound, burning worse than usual. “I won’t help. I won’t. But I…I won’t stop you.” She continued to back away, receding into the trees. “I won’t hurt you. I never want to do that. You’re my friend, okay? I just…I just can’t help. I can’t.”

“Teagan,” Felix murmured gently, “you’re not the only one who’s lost people.” Hadn’t everyone? Wasn’t that what this life was? Not just for supernatural beings like the two of them, but for the hunters, too. For the humans whose loved ones had disappeared in the woods near the Mendoza’s cabin, for the children whose parents never came home and the parents who turned off lights in empty bedrooms at the end of every day. Felix understood the ache of it. Their mother was shot like an animal in the woods, her body left to rot because someone was afraid. People did terrible things under the guise of fear and protection. The blood on the forest floor was proof enough of that.

They tensed a little as Teagan approached, the same way they used to tense when their father got near. Her hands, like their father’s, wouldn’t hurt them. They knew that. Everything their father had done had been done in the name of protection, just like Teagan. But there was blood on those hands, anyway. And what did it matter what the intention was? What did it matter if it was done for protection or for vengeance? It didn’t change that terrible shade of red.

“You don’t know that,” they insisted. “Maybe she lives and goes right back to hunting, but maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she grows. Maybe she becomes better than she was yesterday if she just — If she gets a chance to try. People will never change if you snuff them out before they can try to, but if you give them the chance, they — People are capable of being better. They can work towards it. They can try to be more than they were yesterday. They can. And everyone — everyone deserves a chance to do that. She does. You do. Everyone does. What she does next is on her, but what you do next? That’s on you.”

They had to believe that. They had to. Because if people weren’t capable of change, what did it say about them? About the father they loved just a little more than they feared him, about the siblings who’d done what they were told no matter what shade of red it left their hands? Felix wanted the hunter to be capable of change, wanted Teagan to be capable of change, but there was something selfish to it, too. They wanted a second chance. For themself, for their family, for everyone.

Teagan scooted away from them, and disappointment tasted acidic in their throat. She wasn’t going to help them. They’d figured that might be the end result. But… maybe it said something, still, that she wouldn’t stop them, either. Maybe it meant something for them both. “You’re my friend, too,” they said quietly. “This doesn’t change that. Not for me. But I need to get her help. I need to try to make sure she’s as okay as she can be.”

“O-okay.” She finally managed to whisper painfully. It felt like betrayal, just for a moment, the way Felix fought back so hard. There was no changing their mind, but maybe, Teagan thought, their desperation said something more. The use of everyone wrote some much in a story that she hadn’t yet heard. There was no judgment, not really. Just hurt and disappointment.

The balam had their own pain, and the nix had hers. Teagan could respect that, especially for a friend that wouldn’t become a ghost of the past. There would be no longing wishes left from a broken relationship. That was a relief, even as heartbreak set in motion with each respective decision. With each trembling step toward the darkness Teagan had led herself into, digging further still.

“Don’t do anything foolish, okay? I’m sorry I ruined our day.” That’s what she did best though, wasn’t it? She did it constantly with her family, and she was doing the same with the new connections she’d made. Still, the pain lay thickly in Teagan’s chest every time. It wasn’t easy doing what she must, but the pain was deserved. She knew that. Because all broken shards are cut when one wasn’t careful while they picked up the pieces, and Teagan broke into several more as she made her exit.

She agreed, and it felt like a weight off their back. It felt like an accomplishment. Felix had tried to argue with their father, so many times. They’d put their foot down only to have it forcibly removed, had been called so many terrible things and accused of such awful atrocities just for wanting to save a life. And for a moment, they’d been afraid Teagan would do the same. They’d been afraid that they couldn’t save her or the hunter or anyone at all. But Felix put their foot down and, for once in their life, it was respected. It was honored. It was a good feeling, even if there was still a tightness in his throat and a nausea tugging at his gut.

“Nothing foolish,” they replied with a small smile. “And it’s not — It isn’t ruined. Just… rescheduled. Okay?” The friendship could survive this if they let it. It could. Felix could save someone, for once. Could save more than one person, maybe, if Teagan took their words to heart. (They wouldn’t hold their breath on that, though. Felix’s words had never counted for much. They’d always known that.) And tomorrow, maybe, they could try again. Tomorrow, the rain would wash the blood off the forest floor, and they could move forward. It was a pretty thought.

They heard Teagan leave, swallowed their feelings in response. Carefully, they extracted the injured hunter from the trap and lifted her. They’d get her away from Teagan’s cabin before calling for an ambulance — less questions that way.

Standing, Felix began a quiet trek out of the woods. Behind them, blood soaked into the dirt.

They pretended their hands weren’t covered with it, too.

#closingwaters #teagan: hate to see your heartbreak #wickedswriting #parental death tw #sibling death tw

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anthonysstupiddailyblog · 6 months

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Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (743): Sat 30th Mar 2024

Cycled to work in the sunshine this morning. It's been a while since I've been able to enjoy my journey to work due to not worrying that my mode of transport is going to break down on me. At least with a pedal bike if the chain comes off I'll be able to wheel it to work / home rather than forking out £180 to get the fucking thing towed. The journey was made even more pleasurable by listening to Frank Skinner's latest podcast from Absolute Radio. It's been years since I've been on a pedal bike so my legs weren't quite used to the strain and I did have to stop a few times to get my breath back. As shitty as my jobs at Aldi, TSB and HMRC were, they were at the bottom of the large hill that my house is at the top of so I could get there for free and I got to stay in bed until twenty minutes before my shift started. This is the first time I've ever had to pedal on my bike to get to get to work rather than just sit on it and gradually wake up while the bike takes me there. Luckily I set off an hour before my shift was due to start and got there in forty five minutes. Hopefully once my leg muscles get used to riding this thing on a regular basis I'll be able to cut the journey time down to half an hour.

When I got home I tuned into yesterdays episode of Hollyoaks that I missed because I was busy fantasising about all the ways I would torture the inventor of the Keeway Superlight 125 to death. The episode was mainly focused on Ste wondering how he was going to protect himself from Warren because although he survived being pushed off the top of the building by him…somehow…Warren has friends in jail who are willing to kill Ste for him. I put the following hypothetical exchange on Twitter:

Ste: Warren's got mates on the inside and one of them will kill me. Please can I stay an extra day? Sharon: I'm sorry but we don't have the bed space Ste: There's only one thing for it James: A plea deal? Ste: No, I need you to break my other leg The thing I don't understand about this whole Warren / Ste thing is that James has been Warren's lawyer for years so you'd think he would have plenty of dirt to get Warren locked up. At the very least why doesn't James just kidnap Warren's kids and threaten to glue both their heads to an airplane unless Warren agrees to leave Ste alone? That's what I would do.

I found out that Sharon is leaving the show. I'm not going to act like she was a great character but I think she had potential. However like so many characters with potential over the last few years she was relegated to just being a bystander in someone else's story (Mainly Felix's). If a character is in the show they should be part of a meaningful storyline, not just be there for the centrepiece of the storyline to talk to or vent at. You'd never get this in a sitcom or a drama where you have a regular actor on salary and all they ever do is come in whenever the actual characters need to discuss their feelings or aspects of the plot. I also learned that Jamelia, the actress who plays Sharon has actually been in the show twice before this regular role, both times as different characters so someone involved with this show clearly likes her and wants her to be in the show but just doesn't want her to do anything ever.

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hh0320 · 2 years

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𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥;

part three of the velvet opiate series. part one, part two.

pairing: rockstar! hyunjin x reader (+ minho, felix, chan)

word count: 4.6k

genre: visual gothic rock band, romance, dark smut, hurt/comfort, toxic skz, set in the late 90’s-early 00’s.

warnings: profanity, mature themes, drug & alcohol abuse, foursome, unprotected sex, filthy talk, light bdsm play, light sadism.

🏷: @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @svintsandghosts.

tunes: radiohead (go slowly), mareux (the perfect girl).

Recordings for the new album lasted for a month and a half.

In those forty five days, none of them could move an inch away from the studio, without Joon breathing down their neck, threatening to kick them out the band. Some nights they would sleep in there, dreaming of riffs, and melodies.

Felix had lyrics. But lyrics were nothing but pretty poetry without the music, and Velvet Opiate were not looking to sell books—Chan was very aware of that.

He hadn’t been sleeping properly, if at all. Notes came to him organically, he could get inspired by anything, had a natural talent in song making, and got paid good money to keep it up—yet, he was fucked.

They needed a title track, and all they’d made so far were B sides. And it was on him. It was his fault, because he was so busy running around saving his band mates from themselves, that he’d had no time to sit down and produce. The one thing that was truly of any significance, for them, but to him, especially, solely.

Bang Chan had his music, entirely. Without it, he was just an entitled clown with a drum kit. The company needed a title track, and he’d provide, even if it killed him.

Nothing else mattered.

“From the top!”

The four of them inwardly groaned, fingers raw, sweat dripping from their hair. That was the fifth time they had to repeat that damn song, and they were fucking sick of it.

“Jail would be better than this,” Felix muttered under his breath, throat dry.

Minho chuckled, discarding his wet, sweaty shirt, bass propped on his thigh. His hair stuck to his forehead, dark circles around his brown eyes; he looked like he’d escaped hell.

Maybe he had, Hyunjin could never tell with his older friend.

“What do you know about jail, sunshine?” The purple haired man asked, sarcastically.

Felix rolled his eyes, a devilish smile on his lips. “I know that I’d drop the soap for you, handsome.”

Minho smirked, leaning forward. “All you gotta do is ask, sweetheart.”

“Please stop flirting, it’s making me fucking nauseous,” Chan interjected, a disgusted look on his face.

Hyunjin laughed, going through the tabs. “D’ you think they’ve already fucked, Bang? The tension is palpable.”

“He wouldn’t be able to handle what I give, doll face,” he concluded with a wink, and Hyunjin shook his head, smiling.

“What are you into these days, anyway? Satanic summonings?” Felix widened his eyes, in emphasis.

“Boys, get serious,” Joon said, through the microphone, on the other side. “Again.”

“Lix, shut the fuck up, before he ties you to a goddamn cross.”

Felix pft’ed, while Hyunjin started playing the intro of the new song. “He wouldn’t—”

“Oh, I would,” Minho warned, staring at the singer. “Careful what you ask for.”

Felix swallowed hard, and started:

‘His eyes were heavy

He carried a gun…’

Minho was bored.

His whole life, it seemed, was a mundane routine of waking up to uneventful days, eat, breathe, piss, fuck, repeat. Such was the mortal existence; to have your little time on earth, and then fuck off to whatever afterworld you believe in.

How mediocre—plain. Lee Minho refused to succumb to the monotonous, the tedious. That is why he joined Velvet, that’s why he is the way he is.

Tragic fucking backstory aside, since who the fuck really cares, Minho won’t blame the orphanage beginnings, or the loveless child trope that he’s carried throughout the years.

Juvie at fourteen, mental rehabilitation institute at sixteen, the freezing streets of the capital when freshly eighteen—could he condemn his bad luck? Ignore the responsibility of his fate?

Minho was many things, indifferent to everything, numb to surprise and pain, but he had a sense of responsibility for his actions—he’d never inconvenience anyone, especially the people he associates with the most, because of his own self destructive tendencies. His personal life was his, and his only.

That was the kind of picture Lee Minho painted. A rational one; a competent, sane person, albeit a little unreliable as a narrator.

Some called him a heartless son of a bitch.

Alas, no one was perfect.

It was well after midnight, a Friday on their second week of recordings, when they spotted the fans they’d been warned about.

They were waiting patiently on the side of the exit door, girls in their early twenties, masks hiding their faces, giddy eyes searching for their beloved artists. Joon had given them black caps, and advised the band to keep their heads low, and wave.

Felix broke first, but he later swears it was only because of their long time fan, and founder of his fan club, holding out a gift for him. He hugged her, and signed some pictures for her next giveaway.

Felix was like that—thoughtless, whimsical. It wasn’t exactly a fault, Minho thought, though Chan had reprimanded him quite a bit for his capricious actions.

That night, Minho had a craving. It was an urge, a thirst he couldn’t shake off. And what Minho wanted, Minho had—absolutely.

His gaze had caught the brunette on the far left of the group. She noticed him looking at her, and lowered her eyes immediately, succumbing to his intense stare.

She’ll break easily. That was fine by him, he wasn’t searching for a challenge, not tonight.

A nudge and a knowing look to his bodyguard, and he entered the van after Hyunjin, who’d nearly ran there.

He texted, ‘and her friend,’ to his not so little helper, and smirked down at the screen, feeling Hyunjin’s curious eyes.

“Fuck me,” the blonde boy rolled his eyes. “Just fucking—keep them quiet, will you? It’s a hotel, not your goddamn torture chamber.”

Minho chuckled sinisterly, watching everyone get in the vehicle. It was somewhat unfortunate he didn’t have his…toys with him, but if he was being honest, his patience had ran thin after all the work stress, and not being able to be at the comfort of his own home.

He just needed…release. And they’d have to fucking do, for now.

“I make no promises, doll face.”

Felix turned to that, confused. “Wait, what?”

“Shit, Minho don’t fucking tell me—” Chan started, annoyed.

Hyunjin snorted, lighting a cigarette. He could hear the girls yelling goodnight’s, and I love you’s, and absentmindedly smiled at the words.

“It’s true,” he mused, crossing his arms over his chest, and leaning back against the seat. “Minho’s gonna bless our ears, and get his dick wet.”

“Charity work, boys. You’re welcome,” the perpetrator finished, amused by the attention he was getting.

Chan groaned, while Felix scrunched his nose, wanting to retaliate.

“We’re gonna get kicked out, again. Fucking watch.”

Hyunjin had gifted Minho a pair of Vivienne Westwood pearl earrings for Christmas. It was her original design, and he’d gotten them as a last minute thing, a thank you for all the times the older boy had covered for his ass to their manager.

Hyunjin would follow Lee Minho inside a burning house. He would, if only to see what invisibility truly was. Minho was deathless, a distant form of a man that got away with everything.

His cunningness, his endearing personality that made you blindly follow him to the edges of the sharpest cliffs—where Hyunjin would free fall, searching for any kind of high, Minho could convince people to jump in his place, manipulate them into thinking they’ll be okay once they reached the bottom.

You had to really know the question mark, to know the fairytales it spewed. And Minho did tell a lot of stories. It depended on the kind of person you were—what you did and did not deserve to find out. For some, dragons have been slayed, princesses rescued—others know of the tales of the cavernous forest; about the tough fight against the darkness, how it stole everything, fed on his soul—

How he lost that soul, and what it cost him in the end.

There were a lot of stories, all of them fake. What was Lee Minho in his essence—a con man, hiding inside a thousand mirrors, each one containing only an echo of the small, scared boy he still was, deep down.

Hyunjin caught a glimpse of those earrings, dangling in the bright lights of the long hall leading to their rooms. Hair shining an intense purple, Minho disappeared behind his door, voice lost and now trapped against the four walls, no doubt a warm greeting to his guests for the night.

Chan was leaning against the railing, smoking one of his rare cigarettes. If nicotine was involved, Bang Chan was fucking stressed. Valid, considering.

“I’m worried about him,” he admitted, running a hand through his silver hair.

Lighter already in hand, Hyunjin copied his band mate. He stood next to him, silent for a while, wondering how could anyone worry about a snake.

The level of danger depends on the kind, but most snakes are adaptable, secretive creatures. They shed their skin when they’ve outgrown it, are reborn stronger, stealthier. A snake cannot truly die. If Hyunjin had to guess, Minho would be a saw-scaled viper, quick to attack, so you never see him coming.

He could survive anything, because he always put himself first. No exceptions, unless specified.

“These walls are paper thin.”

Chan sighed. “I could fucking care less about that, I’ve seen him fuck and get fucked forty different ways. I’m talking about his coping mechanisms—” he lowered his voice, glancing around.

Joon had their entire floor cleared, so it was only the four of them staying there, but some things Velvet Opiate kept close to their heart of hearts, never daring to speak about them out loud. It was an unwritten rule.

“Ever since his accident, her death—he’s never been the same again. I couldn’t possibly know what the fuck he’s thinking now, if I ever did back then.”

It was true. Minho had been in a fatal car accident, a couple years back. He ended up with several broken ribs, a fracture, and a broken leg, but the truck had come into impact with the passenger seat first. His then girlfriend was pronounced dead as soon as the paramedics arrived at the scene.

Perhaps, his most severe wound had been her passing.

The band had gone on hiatus for three months, and Minho didn’t once leave his house during the entire time, except to attend the funeral. And that had been a horrible thing in itself—the freezing cold mask he wore accepting condolences, the ghost that’s followed him ever since.

Lee Minho is the burning house. He’s been in flames ever since he was four years old, and the fire has only grown worse overtime. Hyunjin could only hope he knew how to put himself out before it was too late.

But wasn’t he the same way? Didn’t he also have a time limit—a certain amount of fuck ups before it was game over? What the fuck did he know?

Hyunjin exhaled smoke, nodding at the words his friend had said. “You have to walk through the pitch black darkness, to come through the other side.”

Chan finished his cigarette, shaking his head. “Hyun, he’s fucking drowning. You two are more alike than you think.”

The two boys looked at each other, brown on brown. Hyunjin could see the effort it took for Chan to be this vulnerable about his thoughts—he’s always been the crutch, the lifeboat.

The glue that held everything together.

“Maybe you could pull each other up,” he said, patting Hyunjin’s shoulder, and turning to walk to his room, three doors down.

Hyunjin would follow Lee Minho blind. He mused over the stick between his fingers, slowly turning into ashes, how it would always burn, always reduce itself down to the butt—there was no other outcome, no other way.

Predictable. That’s what Hyunjin was becoming. Inevitable.

He thought of you, and the way your skin felt underneath his own, how your eyes looked up at him with the brightest glint, the angel, the untainted. The holy.

You were probably waiting for him at that bleeding bar, wondering how long until he came back to sweep you off your feet. Tasting him in everything, laying awake panting, dreams of him stuck on your eyelashes. He hoped. He wished.

The damned have their prayers and their credulous hopes.

How expected of him to be this weak. Unsurprising.

What other fucking way does Hwang Hyunjin know, except the dark, thorny one? Except the mud, and the monsters, and the hopeless fight?

There’s only one story for him.

He gets up, knocks on the white door. Pearl Vivienne Westwood earrings greet him, an insouciant Minho blinks at him once, and moves out the way.

Hyunjin enters.

The lighting was dim, atmospheric.

One girl was tied on the headboard, the other on the floor, on her knees waiting, gaze downwards.

Both naked.

Hyunjin momentarily wonders if they were aware of Minho’s sexual preferences. Judging by the girl on the bed, her content face, he decides they probably don’t even care—too happy to be near their favorite idol.

Minho nods over to the vanity desk, thin white lines laid out, a credit card, and a bill next to them. A bottle of whiskey was open, three glasses empty around it.

This was the scene. The car accident, the neon lights, the siren. The death over and over—the self destruction was a suicide. The eventual joining, on the other side.

Hyunjin was familiar with this best of all, because he’d been guilty for it too. Only for him, there would be no rejoicing, no motive. No reason beyond the high.

Minho had moved to the mattress, sitting next to the gagged girl, that had been whimpering and fighting against the restraints. He spoke low to her, almost a whisper; his mouth was sinful, his language filthy.

“How wet is your cunt right now, love? Sprawled like a fucking whore for us. It’s what you wanted, right? To be fucked by a couple rockstars?”

The woman’s thighs rubbed against each other, no doubt aroused by the scenario.

Hyunjin had his eyes set on the submissive one on the floor, though. She had made no move, no sound, ever since he’d entered. She remained perfectly still, deliciously compliant.

He hadn’t used in three weeks. That was a record for him, though he couldn’t entirely put it on himself—everyone’s been micro managing him, monitoring his every move. His phone had been taken from him, all contacts removed.

He hadn’t fought it—he’d actually wanted to give sobriety a try, if for nothing but the sake of the band. But Minho had seen right through him, apparently, had spotted the beast inside Hyunjin, and promised to take care of it.

How expected of him to be this weak. Unsurprising.

Cocaine wasn’t his drug of choice, but anything is food to a starving man. He snorted a line, and rubbed his nose.

Then got close to the girl. Her hair was long and black, a curtain around her face. Hyunjin got on one knee, lifting her chin with his thumb.

Watery eyes stared at him, innocent and willing. Like yours.

“You’re being so quiet, sweetheart. Such a good girl,” he praised, taking in her body.

Perky breasts, tiny figure, hands balled into fists on her thighs. It wouldn’t take long at all—this girl was already broken.

Hyunjin loved broken things. There was no reason to be careful with them, at all. He fisted her hair, inspecting her reaction. She blinked at him, lips parting.

“You know what’s gonna happen, don’t you, pretty girl?”

She nodded weakly, never once breaking eye contact. Oh, she’s fucking done this before alright.

His other hand slapped her cheek, once. Softly, testing the waters. She flinched closer, but there was no pained look, no widening of the eyes. Just plain, unfiltered desire for more.

“Turn around, on your hands and knees,” he ordered, unbuttoning his shirt.

It was a split decision, her mouth opened—

“Can I touch you?” She regretted it as soon as she said it.

The second slap was harder, his palm leaving a red mark on her pale skin. She bit on her lip to keep from crying out, and scurried to get into position, afraid of worse punishment.

Hyunjin had no limit when it came to this—he would take it as far as his partner was willing to go, no second guesses. It was the only thing that gave him control, the only thing that truly gave him pleasure.

Feeling someone physically and mentally submit to him, connecting through inflicting pain on them… he’d been wired that way, it seemed. Violence got him fucking hard, the detachment, the deep emotions of the one receiving—the sweet release. All of it was incredibly arousing.

You had been the only exception, in all his years. With you, he wanted to take his time, defile you slowly, take care of you properly.

You were his angel, untouchable otherwise. You were different.

He pulled this girl by the throat, bringing her back flush against his own naked chest, mouth next to her ear.

“You’re fucking helpless. This is for me, and only me. You better keep fucking quiet, and take it, do you understand?”

She nodded frantically against him.

“Now, what’s your safe word?”

“Burn. It’s burn.”

Burn… This fucking girl.

“A true fan,” Minho commented, amused.

He was fucking the other girl’s mouth, both hands holding her face still. She was struggling to breathe, a slobbering mess, but there was no voice to her.

“I wrote that song, beautiful,” he winked at Hyunjin’s girl, and she blushed, before going back down, position resumed, lesson learned.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he slapped her ass.

Sliding two fingers in her cunt, he found it soaking wet. Cursing, he fucked her like that for a while, making sure she’d keep to her word and make no noise. Her face was pressed against the carpet, arms barely holding her up.

He grabbed them, holding them behind her back, and removed his fingers. She clenched around the loss, juices running down her milky thighs.

What a fucking slut.

Hyunjin entered her roughly, using her arms to get deeper inside. She screamed, and then apologized immediately, her whole body tensing up, waiting for punishment.

“Didn’t I tell you,” he groaned, drilling into her, “to keep fucking quiet?!”

The girl on the bed was crying by this point, Minho relentlessly pounding her ass, hands still tied, a black scarf covering her eyes. It was like he was deaf to her screams, not present, as his movements quickened, her knees giving way, falling flat on her face, and yet never once shutting the fuck up.

Hyunjin glanced at his friend once, noticing the stoic expression, the hard lines of his mouth. He wasn’t there mentally, he was dissociating. It was what usually happened when Minho was high—he had no restraints, no way to stop, not unless he got what he wanted.

“Get on the bed,” he pulled his girl’s hair, slipping out of her.

She tripped, but did as told. He circled an arm around her waist and placed her right next to the moaning myrtle. The need to gag her was overwhelming, but Hyunjin knew Minho left her like that on purpose. To block his mind; static noise.

He slammed back inside her, cunt now a sloppy mess, lifting her legs over his head. Holding them with one hand, he fucked her brutally, exorcising the thought of you.

Minho stopped, as if awakening suddenly. The girl came hard, spasming violently. He pulled her up by the throat, and bit her shoulder.

“Join them. Let me see you.”

The two women started kissing, completely fucked out, while Hyunjin continued his pounding—close, so fucking close. Eyes shut, you’re there, a vision in black, red all around, getting fucked by him against a wall, like a fucking whore.

His whore. Hyunjin holds you up, your cunt heaven, a church he build to hide inside, praying to your name on his knees. Important, bigger than life, your half naked frame filling his mind, driving him over the edge.

“Burn! Burn! Fucking burn, fuck!”

He spilled inside her, growling, head falling on her stomach. She shook him off, pulling away, wrapping her arms around her knees, exhausted, tears streaming down her face.

You’d hate him for this. But you didn’t understand, yet. He’d make sure you never found out.

“All yours,” he says to Minho, getting off the bed.

“Don’t be scared, kitten,” Minho reasoned with her. “You didn’t think we’d go easy on you, did you?”

Hyunjin quickly slipped into his pants, remaining shirtless. He saw as Minho tamed both women, his voice level and soothing. It’d be a long night.

Pouring himself a drink, he downed it in one go, lines tempting him again. But he could already feel his high, and he really could care less about cocaine, so he left, right as Minho took out a vibrator—

Kinky motherfucker.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Minho called out to him, as the door clicked shut.

For the first time in his life, Hyunjin listened.

Back in his room, he showered off the sex smell, and sat by the window smoking, clad in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms.

He thought of you. Your scent, your soft hands, the way you reached for him. The way he’d scared you by attacking that scum. It’d been too long since then, and his need to see you, to touch you, only grew stronger.

But his life was a golden cage, and he remained a prisoner. Hyunjin had the least freedom of them all, and he had nothing but his addictions to blame.

Grabbing his guitar, he played through random notes, smoke burning his eyes. His fingers settled over a strumming pattern, and he repeated it, a faint melody coming together.

Hyunjin went through it again, and again, building on it, the music descending on his heart, painful and familiar. Reminiscent of the way you said his name.

He hummed along, and where lyrics failed, they now came to him freely, devastating.

‘I tried counting

Her smiling pain…’

He shot up from his seat, cigarette long forgotten, hanging limply from his mouth, and run out of the room, two doors down. Chan’s door was always open, because he never fucking slept.

He was in front of his equipment, free styling on the keyboard, when Hyunjin burst in and stood in front of him, grinning from ear to ear.

Chan squinted up at him. “Are you high?”

Hyunjin shook his head, guitar in hand. “Never mind that. I got us the title track.”

At that, the silver haired boy’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his seat, intrigued.

“No shit. Never thought I’d see the day, Hyun.”

It was true. Hyunjin never wrote songs—there’d never been anything inspiring, until he met you. And he was so sure of you, his brave girl, so enamored by what you showed him, by what he felt.

“It’s called Knife.”

Chan gestured for him to sit on the bed. “Let’s hear it.”

Hyunjin played.

It was a bit past four in the morning, when Minho’s groupies left. Disheveled, and bruised, shoes in hand, they tiptoed to the elevator like thieves, giggling to themselves.

Hyunjin and Chan were taking a break out in the hall, and watched as they let out similar high pitched screams when they noticed them there.

The black haired one screamed, “I love you Bang Chan!” She looked drunk.

Chan chuckled, waving at her. “What’d he do to them?”

“You want the politically correct answer to that?” Hyunjin asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Never mind.”

They both looked down at the lobby, and met the security guard’s gaze, as the two women passed by him. He probably thought, fucking rockstars, thinking they can do whatever the fuck they want, and he’d be right.

Sometimes they did the most excessive shit for the hell of it. Money and fame gave them the right to do so. What was a hotel’s security guard going to do about it?

Look the other way. They all did.

“What the fuck are you looking at, asshole?” Chan provoked him.

Hyunjin smirked, elbows resting on the railing, letting the scene unroll before him.

“Go back to your rooms,” the guard told him, scowling.

Chan scoffed, laughing humorlessly. “And what if we don’t, tough guy? Are you gonna spank us?”

At that, Hyunjin snorted. Chan had the worst temper of the four, and he loved getting riled up. Shit talking was his favorite pastime, only second to making music.

They had only gotten kicked out of a hotel twice before; once when Minho’s birthday orgy got out of control, and then back when they first became well known, for vandalism. That’d been Hyunjin’s fault—he’d been high as a fucking kite, and decided trashing his room and knocking on every door of his floor, screaming lyrics from their debut song was a great idea.

He got arrested for private nuisance, and fined three thousand dollars for destroying property. He’d barely made it to their first concert in America, and Joon was mad at him for a month after that.

He hoped this wouldn’t be the third, but did nothing to prevent it from happening.

The guy talked in his walkie-talkie, no doubt requesting back up. Hyunjin doubted he’d need extra men, but then again, Chan was known to be unpredictable when messed with.

“What a little bitch. Do you need me to show you, fuckface? Have you ever properly fucked a woman before?”

The receptionist came into view, looking up at them. “Sir, I advise you to calm down, or we’ll have to call the police. Please go back to your rooms, or you’ll be escorted out of the premises.”

Right on time, Minho and Felix came out, curious faces staring at their band mates. Hyunjin sighed, tugging on Chan’s sleeve.

“Do you really have to start shit, Bang? This hotel’s been pretty flexible with us.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Felix asked, rubbing his eyes, looking down at the lobby.

“I’m calling Joon. Chan, fucking calm it, before we’re front page news again,” Minho warned, opening his flip phone.

Chan hit Hyunjin in the back, taking a deep breath, and nodding at Minho.

“You’re right. But let me just—fuck you!” He shouted to the guard, a maniacal smile on his lips.

“Okay, I’m done. Fuck, that felt good.”

Felix laughed, following him to his room. “Fucking Bang Chan…”

Hyunjin stayed behind with Minho, who was on the phone with their manager, explaining the situation.

“So much for laying low,” Hyunjin mocked Chan’s words from earlier that month.

Minho smirked. “We’re Velvet fucking Opiate, doll face. We don’t lay low.”

The blonde smirked back, and put his arm around the older’s shoulders. “Sounds about fucking right, honey.”

“I wrote a song, by the way!”

“About fucking time. We all just thought you’d be a pretty face forever.”

“Fuck you, Lee.”

“Next foursome, doll.”

A week later, the new publication for ‘Nicola’ magazine was out. It was the go to for every teenager in Japan, and Velvet Opiate had been a regular issue on their pages, mainly for their fashion appearances, and hot gossip.

This time it was the latter.

The title read as such: ‘Velvet Opiate fans confess—we slept with the band! EXCLUSIVE’

“Guys!” Joon yelled, reading through the article anxiously.

The band gathered around their manager, peaking at the magazine, curious.

“Fuck,” all four collectively exclaimed.

They were in deep shit.

#ficscafe #straykidsland #hyunjin scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop scenarios #stray kids #hyunjin #skz #hyunjin fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #kpop smut #mine.

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uchiha-7thsingularity · 2 years

Text

Last legacy MC/ OC getting their period and their LI taking the time to understand the situation. To comfort/heal with spice and fluff in the mix of this shitpost. I might go back and proofread it later. Also, decided to focus on last legacy more (rime and felix) in the future FYI. Might do a part 2 with the side characters. Enjoy!

Felix Iskander Escellun:

At the beginning he was perplexed as to why you looked pale and sweaty during your lessons with each Starwsworn. Then he acknowledged Anisa, Sage, and Elowen sometimes checking on you constantly after sparing or meals. Especially Stella following your every move throughout the halls of blackthorn. He would even see Scylla, Florian, and Tulsi giving you little treats every now and then. Saaros or Ayanna had checked-in to see if you were coping throughout the day as well. As always you tell them your fine but none believed your false words. Nevertheless, the minutes tick by as the world continues to live and rotate on it's axis. Not stopping for anyone or any cycle or season if you know what I mean clap your hands and cry.

Then when he sees you go to mid-redemption Rime who seems to give you a pat on the head with a small smile he hasn't seen in years. This man feels useless without magic already on top of being newly confident nowadays. You guys are usually awkward but it's your thing he doesn't know how to be straightforward. Panic attack! Slap in the face! Heave a breathe. Then cry in a corner as Stella watches to judge you silently. Okay, I can handle this. You got this felix!! :)

Believe me when the pain was worse this time around to the point on the third day you collapse during your lesson with Felix learning a shield spell and incantation. Of course, you had told him you were fine, except he didn't take your word anymore and carried you. (YES, I said carried you on pure adrenaline and motivation to your guy's shared bed this man had activated).

Once he tucked you under the warm covers with stella he kissed your forehead to only grab every single book to learn more about the body he overlooked before. I would think he was there for Scylla when she got hers but never asked many questions. Knowing him and rime these idiots skipped health class because they're know-it-all's. (Escell grounded him for a week or two. He tried to run away but failed to realize his Insigna. Note to self get rid of that blasted thing in the future.)

Anyway he seeks help from the others by asking questions this time. Afterword, he comes back to you by laying out a makeshift heating pad on your stomach. Anisa created with Florian that has your favorite herbs to settle your nerves. He puts extra pillows from Sage and Rime's room to help you sit up. Tulsi, Elowen, Saaros, and Ayanna had been at the market when Felix asked them to buy you fruit and cheese with crackers to dine on with water. He also brought his midnight olives to feed you in the meantime. Right before bedtime he runs a bath for you, if you want one, with bath salts by Scylla he owes a favor too by the way.

The warm water feels heavenly. He asks you if he can massage your shoulders or hips in the water. My man's got hands that are smooth like butter (hint:bts). If your ticklish he slowly eases you into it by distracting you with his CHARM and SHARP TONGUE.

Felix: Relaxed now? Do you need confirmation of my underlying love? I'm pleased to help you understand the importance of self-care?

MC/ OC: Seems intriguing. Although, professor I learn better with hands-on activities than self-taught. You taunt him smashing water at him he blocks with his freckled arm.

He licks his lip gazing upon you and all your glory thanking any gods for meeting you when he needed a new beginning in his life. All while you evaporate amongst this heat as he enjoys your blush expression. Excuse me judge(horny jail).

Toweling each other off you head to bed. Cuddles, your honor. Stella licks both your toes before bed as a kiss good night. You try to sleep but stare into each other's eyes, rubbing circles on each other's backs whispering nothing but fantasies you both want to experience together in your future. Thanking him you promise to come to him when you need comfort or satisfaction. Bumping foreheads you lead him into a slow soft kissing session. Only to share giggles when you guys catch your breath to fall asleep into a warm embrace full of freedom.

Rime Solano Varela:

We're talking about before redemption this man has stalked you for gaining your weaknesses and downfall. He notices firsthand that you look ill or hunched over when the others glance away for a moment. His pride bargains to take you out when he realizes you just seem closed off or don't bark an insult to him. Not even an attempt to summon "his" relic. To which leads himself to backtrack for the day and reconsider what the hell's wrong with you? He feels conflicted in his broken state of mind every time he thinks of you in pain. Bambi feels a pain in his coldhearted chest. He ignores it and continues to seek more info and learn new spells to attack you with next time you feel yourself again to have a real battle.

If this is redemption rime who tries gaining his old comrades and ex lover approval/ trust he teaches you with one-on-one healing or elemental spells. He seems to call you out this week when he recalls the exact tired look he's seen you suppress certain weeks when he stalked you beforehand. As a healer he took it upon himself to comprehend the human body by the books and manuscripts over the years. He's rusty but not dumb unlike a stinky cat man. (Somewhere sage sneezes into his keg). Taking precaution he grabs your wrist to lead you to Florians garden sitting you down gently.

Unaware of his next actions thinking he will lecture you on poisons he grabs a bowl and mixes red and orange plants and powders together he found in a glass cabinet nearby in the greenhouse. Curiosity burns within you or a fever coming on. You shiver. Oh no! He strides over to sit next to you and ask to cup your hands together. As you do with a confused expression he pours the mixture into your sweaty hands. Stare?!

MC/ OC: Is there a point to what you just did or is this a prank to make me suffer?

Rime: Hush and watch starlight. ;)

Surprise his gloved hand hover over yours as he twirls his hand above in a circle. You notice the powder twisting into a small tornado. It soon spirals around you both as your amazement shows he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close. It astounded you to feel he has warmed his hands with a heat spell to rub circles on your hips and thighs. Pure bliss! Your lidded eyes gaze at the powder which appears to show small creatures galloping in the wind.

Then rime caresses your cheek to cup your chin and turn your gaze upon him instead of his magic. You hate to say he came into your life as your enemy but in turn you were a villain in his story as well. Earlier you offered a hand to him and asked to work and forgive each other slowly over time he accepted. Only for a second he leaned in to peck your nose as he chuckled at your red-tinted features comparing them to the red-ish powder he just prepared on the dot for you. You pushed him away at the comment to bumble for a comeback but flushed ever more at his raised brow.

Still, the sun setting he leads you into his guest room felix gave him for the convenience of him being there and to piss escell off more likely. Laying on your back to relieve the pain he leaves for a few minutes to return with a hot meal Tulsi and Scylla made as elowen snacked on his cookies he announced irritated. (She knows what she's doing.) He also mentions lecturing felix, sage, and anisa to be more aware of your period signs before it starts to become worse for you and the team as a whole. Passing saaros on the way back to the room he asks them to let the others also know you will be out for a week. Until he heals you back on your feet. For the team sake not his. (Stop staring at him fandom with hope in your eyes. It's disgusting). He makes sure you have your fill and stay hydrated.

Lastly, he put a cold wet towel on your forehead to relieve the fever you failed to hide. He rambles about the old days as you listen content on his soothing choir voice. He's about to clean up the room until you poke his butt with your foot and ask him to sing you a song. Silence. Why are you like this to him only? Because you caught feelings for him! ….What? ….what?! Giving up he lays with you to cuddle you that has him twirling your hair in his palms. Singing a tune of, "Your Love" by Daithi De Nogla cause I said so. Breathing on his chest listening to his silky voice he might fall asleep forgetting the mess for the next morning to find you fast asleep. In his bed. With him. In his arms. Holding tighter he kisses your head to thank the stars for giving him a second chance to learn to live again not as a broken abomination but a person you can be comfortable to survive long enough for him to swallow his pride and love again.

Anisa Anka:

Typically you both pig out at the market and feed each other when you're alone together. It was hot as usual while holding hands to keep close in the crowded area. Sage and Tulsi headed back early to eat lunch at her shop to wait for more customers to wear her out. Rime and Felix decided to look for more ingredients to brew more protection spells. That's what they said but you and anisa noticed them head toward a stall filled with questionable novelty. (Don't be suspicious. Don't be suspicious.) Saaros was busy with escell and orion to meet up that day. And Ayanna had kicked you both out with her thick thighs and swift movement of her fluffy tail. And Elowen just bailed liked a ninja promiseing to meet up later.

Sweet, savory, spicy, and sour juices flowed over your tongue. Enjoying the moment with your lover had been short-lived. Cramps we're motherfudger. :( pure agonizing pain creeped up your spine with no warning what so ever. Whimpering silently next to her you try to bite your lip to not ruin the atmosphere of serenity but your period fights back. Clutching the table of nearby food stall anisa finally turns to notice you bending over yourself. Sweaty as you are she pampers you expecting you to tell her what's wrong. I think she knows but would want verbal confirmation from your bruised lips to be left with the option of hauling you back to her place by piggyback. As a women she knows all to well about the unwelcome friend that stops by every month.

Ayanna waiting for your return had cleaned up to realize anisa's haste to boil water on the stove. She catches a look at you seemingly past out on the bed with drool coming out your mouth. She heads out to get you necessities for your cramps with the intention of giving privacy as a perk of her absence. (Cough...cough. Wink...wink.Kiss the girl!) Rolling her eyes anisa goes out of her way to cover you up and fluff the pillows leveling your timid frigid figure. Thanking her she pats your hand to only say she will never leave your side no matter the cost. Anisa: I promise on my life to honor the knighthood to protect my dearest companion in trying times! Nothing will stop me!

MC/ OC: Kitten….the stove is on fire…..and yes I will be your soldier too now and forever!

Stop. Drop. And roll. The fire is out and you tell anisa just to wait for ayanna to come back with safe supplies for you. She rubs her face in exhaustion and you giggle beckoning her to sit in the bed with you. Moping on top of your stomach she takes her gloves off to rub circles around your lower abdomen while her teeth graze your chest. It tickles but she wants to take your mind off the pain for merely your sake and a little of her feeling excited to ravish you in your time of need. Peck's here and there on your thighs to licking up your stomach while looking at you. (I need help…I just want her to pin me your honor. And I'm not even gay. But I still deliver!!)

Eventually, anisa mom returns to see you both fell asleep wrapped together in the blanket like a burrito. She had bumped into the others at the market when they asked of both your absence and she gladly told them of you two missing. And to expect it for the harsh days to come. Later that week they all would check up on the two of you for reassurance of your health. Sadly, she wakes you up to let you change and wash up for dinner. Anisa helps her mom in the kitchen fixing a meal you favored. To then layout an outfit she wore in her old training days. She helps you dress slowly to worship your beautiful body and wants to make you blush more than she is right now. Sharing a homemade meal ayanna shares some anisa childhood stories to leave you and her in a fit of laughter with tears beading your lashes.

Anisa cleans up and you both say goodbye to ayanna who salutes you two to have fun tonight but not too much because you need to rest. And her daughter just hisses at her to leave while ayanna just swishes her hips abandoning you to giggle at her teasing. Having the home to yourself you grab anisa by the waist and pin her to the mattress burning your neck into her neck. She sighs as she squeezes you to tell you she is so glad to have you thrown into her life when she wished for a purpose to serve. Now she realizes she just yearned to be seen for her self-serving hard-work which you were the first to call her out on her BS of rulebook 101.

Manuvering to peep at her she turns to peep back with a simple creeping on her cheery rose face. You tell her nothing but sweet words with sweet promises to hear her heartbeat rise in her chest at each syllable. You tossle her pink brownish hair with your nimble fingers to gently coax her into a slumber. Silly you had slept after being lulled to slumber by her intoxicating scent. The next day she watches you sleep propped on an elbow to be joyful to exist together until you decide to leave on a white steed into the sunset like in her childhood books. Rather this time she will be holding the leash to guide you on your journey with her forever more.

Sage Lesath:

Cat man is clueless to why you've been avoiding him this coming week. He thought he did something and got frustrated so he went to the other three. Rime assumed it was his presence that scared them off and led sage to snap his teeth at him. (Boys will be boys) Then felix added that maybe it was the fact he takes up half the bed with a shitty grin. Tired of the two mages he turned to anisa who sipped her tea and coaxed that he should ask you personally. Ruthlessly teasing him that it was probably the bite marks he had left on you every damn time his hair was combed by you. F u all I'm not needy!?

Roaming the halls of fanthom he heads outside to see you sitting in the grass near the water with the big tree and broken bridge up above. Heading over he wraps his tail around your shoulder to throw your guard off to tickle your nose with his as you turn to him finally. You beam at him with the animated look you give him when he sees you. However, this face has bags under their eyes with blotches on their cheekbones and goosebumps all around their legs and arms. You try to say your well but he ignores your words and carries you off to his room by hauling you over his shoulder like sheep did with fiona. You know the scene.(Donkey! Right behind you shrek!)

Pining you to the bed he wraps any blankets he can find as you taunt him to be more gentle since it's his first period. He bites back that tulsi is on her way to help the star sworn make dinner for you and bring you your lady things.(in my opinion, raising tulsi he might had stole stuff to help her in her time of need but never pushed her to talk about it). In the current time anisa stopped by with saaros and her mom to drip off spa treatments you can use to clear off your face and relax your body.

Rime and felix were busy making a disastrous dinner while elowen jumped into salvage the meal cussing them out to stop adding random stuff into the pot. Scylla and florian stopped by to visit felix and then heard of your situation to fill a basin of water with ice cubes to keep you hydrated. And a potted small tree to leave as a period gift to admire with a bottle of aroma from Scylla to mix in your bath. Wink at you and sage. Additionally, sage was busy guarding you with his life to anyone who got to close to you two. Stella was kicked out twice and somehow found her way back. (She on demon time)!? So on the minutes ticked by as he made sure you were hydrated and warm in his rough embrace with his big arms.

Sage: Is this enough? Do you need me to go get a healer or anisa again?

MC/ OC: The one thing you can do for me is to let me touch those fluffy ears and tail!;) Red like a hot pepper he lets you caress his tufts of white/silver fur to purr until his heart skips a beat like a madman. Grabbing his tail you yank on it a little along with his braided hair coming undone like him. Biting his lip he adores you, stating how he wants you to do whatever you like to him. Smiling like a fool you kiss his abs to hear him growl under his heated breath. Pulling back you boop his nose and say time to eat as you smell a savory aroma in the air. He lays there for a minute to then follow you to the main hall to eat while sharing a glance here and there. The others roll their eyes at the display you guys fail to hide admit the humble chatter.

Returning to the room after saying good night to your friends and foes(sage vs rime). You go back to cuddling on the bed to have sage's tail wrap around your lower core to pull you into his chest. He rest his chin on top of your head to purr to distract yourself from the mild painn you felt from all the affection he showed with the other today. You could cry. Instead, you grab his scarred hands to lead them to straddle your hips as he catches on to heat up with his skillful hands he brags daily about to you.

Sleeping peacefully in the night he wakes up to home you close and wonder what the hells you see in him?? An alcoholic with commitment issues that can't handle discovering a friend or lover in pain again. He peers at you to pay attention to his random thoughts filled with you and a toothy grin spreading across his lips. Mother night. His thoughts reel to one conclusion. In his final moments of sanity, before corruption takes over, he will do anything to vanquish the darkness within him to see another starlit sky with you. A chance to put his beer down. Wipe his face. Flash you his signature look(you know the look). And tell you that he will howl your name till his throat gives out to let the world know he's yours and you are his and no one will change his mind.

#fictif #last legacy #female reader #felix iskandar escellun #rime solano varela #anisa anka #sage lesath #fictif last legacy #slight lemon #soft fluff

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thespiritofvexation · 2 years

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Some fun facts you might not know about Jack Bruce

He started writing music at a very young age, some of the songs on "Things We Like" he wrote when he was only 11

Got stranded in Italy, aged 17, when the manager took off with the money. No problem for Jack who got adopted and pampered by the ladies at the brothel where the band was staying

On his second trip to Italy he had to be sent home due to accidentally setting fire to himself

Told prince Edward to fuck off when said prince asked him if they (Alexis Korner's Blues Inc.) could play a waltz

In Graham Bond Organisation, while on tour supporting Chuck Berry, the band used to play a game against The Moody Blues which involved among other things slapping each other with wet towels, tweaking of inner thighs and biting each others ankles. The games ended when Ginger almost killed Graeme Edge

at a gig with Manfred Mann the crowd started rioting and they had to escape. Manfred found Jack hiding in a cupboard and had to drag him out and force him to jump out a window

On the first trip to the US with Cream, Jack naively accepted popcorn from a hippie girl as the other's looked on in horror. The popcorn was of course spiked and Jack ending up tripping for days

He once saved Ginger Baker's life from an overdose. When visiting him in the hospital, Ginger called him a c*nt and told him to fuck off

Got very drunk on a day trip to Mexico, decided to hide the car keys at the border control and proceeded to yell in anti-american, landing him in jail despite protesting "you can't arrest me, I'm number one in the charts!". When finally released fans had covered the jail in flowers

When Cream dispanded, Jack bought a Scottish island with 300 sheep

Spent a night with Felix Pappalardi's wife Gail Collins. They did have an open marriage, but Gail enjoyed the night so much so that she wanted to run off with Jack and a business associate had to persuade her not to. Oh, and Jack was best worst man at their wedding

Swears he once saw a UFO while on route to a gig, the other half of the band (Lifetime) who travelled in another car on a different road saw it too

Threw an amp at Larry Coryell for calling Jack and drummer John Marshall "the best UK rythm section". He missed

Once tried to fly off of the roof of the Hyat House, fortunately he didn't manage to take off

Threatened to cut the balls off of a supporting musician on tour for copying his act and/or playing his piano

Accidentally set fire to a hotel bed, when the staff came he reportedly said "the bed caught fire, thank god we were here to put it out!"

Recorded his voice on the mellotron. [The vocal samples was used by They Might Be Giants in the song I Like Fun!]

Actually composed music while in coma following a liver transplant!

When he finally was released from hospital following the transplant, he had just about a year to learn how to walk, talk and sing again in time for the 2005 Cream reunion

Jack released his last and final album "Silver Rails" in 2014, only months before his passing

#from deep down in the depths of my drafts #it will have to do for a birthday special❤#jack bruce

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kpop-dungeon-dark · 3 years

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His Little Princess. (Nerd!Hyunjin x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, humiliation, punishment, degradation, kidnapping. Both of you are legal in this. Read at your own risk.

Hyunjin's hands were a little shaky as he stood in front of the busy table during break time, knowing it was the only time when he'd be able to approach her as their schedules clashed. Adjusting his round spectacles one more time, the boy turned his head to look at his friends at a table far away. The 8 boys gave him huge smiles and stuck their thumbs up at him, nodding at their friend as they silently encouraged him to go for it. Taking in a huge breath, Hyunjin turned to look forward again, taking the few remaining steps towards it.

"Y- Y/n…" His soft call went unnoticed as all the cool kids on the table continued to eat and enjoy their break. Looking back at his friends, he groaned inwardly but they shook their heads and warned him not to come back without asking her. Yes, it seemed easy in the heat of the moment but now… standing in front of all these people… even thinking of proposing her while she looked so pretty with her pink dyed hair… busy on her phone like this…

"Y- Y/n!" Hyunjin let out after standing there for 5 minutes. The whole table went silent as his heart started to thump anxiously. Okay snap. Maybe that was too loud. Everyone slowly started to quieten down, heads turning toward Hyunjin and just why was a nerdy loser like him calling someone as the pretty and beautiful Y/n like this so informally?

"U- Uh…" The girl who had averted her gaze from her phone sounded, raising an eyebrow because she remembered him from one of her classes last year. Maybe…? She wasn't even sure if she'd even seen him before.

"I- I was wondering…" Biting the inside of his cheek, Hyunjin gave himself a whole mental peptalk, feeling like his heart was about to burst from all this attention on him. Come on. It wasn't this hard… right? He'd prepared for like two weeks now. Ever since senior prom was announced. It was his last prom. Last year's had been terrible too. It was now or never. "I was wo-ndering i- if you c- could come with m- me t- to senior p- prom-" before he could finish his sentence, some people on her table started chuckling.

"Wooooooh! Is our very own Y/n getting asked out right now?!" A girl bitchily laughed while clapping, causing the girl in question to bite her lip, cheeks flushing.

Fuck. Why couldn't he have just slid in a letter or something like the rest of her admirers? Was embarrassing her like this in the cafeteria necessary?

"I cannot believe this nerd just asked Y/n out!" A guy shook his head before the whole cafeteria started to buzz with whispers.

"Hey boy!" Hyunjin fell to the floor when a muscular guy from the table, who always followed Y/n around like a dog, suddenly got up, pissed. "Get the fuck back! Why're you embarrassing her?!" Grabbing a carton of juice her angrily splashed it at Hyunjin's face. "Is this your little attempt at making her a laughing stock or what?! You know damn well people like her don't go with people like us!"

Everyone started laughing at Hyunjin, pointing at him while ridiculing him, causing tears to form under his juice covered spectacles, only getting further ruined when a girl from the table tossed her lunch on him. But none of that humiliation could have broken his heart as much as when Y/n got up without sparing him another glance, picking her bag up before leaving the cafeteria in anger and embarrassment.

"Who the fuck does that girl think she is?" Minho spat in pure hatred as Hyunjin finally went to sleep in his room, the rest of the boys now downstairs in his living room. "I knew she was a self proclaimed Princess and all but this?!" It was already really hard to impress the boy and this had angered him.

They had scooped a crying and heartbroken Hyunjin up from the cafeteria, the muscular guy insulting them as well as he 'advised' them to bring Hyunjin off his little cloud. Then they'd brought the boy home on short leave before forcing him to shower and then he just shut off, collapsing on the bed before going to sleep.

"These popular people are ruthless…" Changbin sighed, tiredly relaxing on the couch.

"They're nobody's. Changing groups is nothing to them. Friends don't mean anything to them neither do feelings. If you're popular, they're your friend. But if you're not, you don't matter as a person." Chan shook his head in distaste, all of them hurt for their friend.

"You're right." Jeongin agreed.

"Guys…" Seungmin, who was the only one that hadn't spoken until now ever since the incident sounded, raising his head. "I… have a plan."

Y/n slowly raised to consciousness, blinking and groaning when she didn't recognize her surroundings, feeling a painful bound around her wrists as her ankles burned too. "W- What the…" She tried to speak, blinking as the girl tried to recall her recent memories, gasping once she remembered. Oh yes. She was in the parking lot of the school, walking to her car when she felt someone grab her from behind before a wet, funny smelling towel was pressed to her mouth.

"I- Is someone h- here…?" She whispered, throat painfully dry. "Hello…?" Her voice broke. "H- Help! Someone… h- help!" Y/n's body slowly started to fill with panic as she tried to struggle, realising that she was in a basement, placed on a chair whilst her hands were cuffed and legs were tied to a damn spreaderbar.

"Nobody will help you so I suggest you stop that pathetic little screaming already, Princess." Felix spoke as him and all the boys except Hyunjin entered he basement, smirking at her panicked state.

"Oh look who's awake!" Changbin ridiculed with a mocking smile.

"Tsk. Do you even deserve the 'help' that you oh so desperately want?" Han was disgusted with her as he glared at her.

"Y- YOU- WHO ARE YOU?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" Y/n yelled at them, trying to break out of her restraints pathetically, trying to recognise them before realising in despair that she didn't know any of these nerves. "LET ME GO! OR YOU'LL GO TO JAIL- AHHH!" The males laughed at her when she fell off the chair, falling on her face as her skirt flew up.

"We will go to jail?!" Woojin raised an eyebrow as he crouched in front of her. "When disgusting whores like you get to roam around freely?!" Pulling his hand back, the boy slapped her across the face, making her cry out.

"Uhuhuh~" Chan shook his head as he sat on the chair and pulled her back by the spreader bar. "Now, now, Woojin. Little girls shouldn't be hit like that." Before the stronger one of them all picked the girl up by the spreader bar, all of them laughing at the humiliating sight since her skirt was up all the way. "This is how brats are supposed to be handled." Laying her over his knees, Chan landed a smack on Y/n's ass, making her legs kick in pain as she tried to struggle but it was literally impossible.

"Do you think you even deserve to struggle?! After you've been so disgusting and rightfully deserving of this punishment?!" Minho slapped her jiggling ass now, not one of them willing to get effected even though she was a living breathing female with a gorgeous body and they were all inexperienced virgins. Why? Because she was Hyunjin's.

His little Princess.

"O- OKAY PLEASE S- STOP! PLEASE! I WON'T TELL THE COPS! JUST STOP! PLEASE!" The girl started begging now, making them chuckle at her, the rest landing smacks on her ass now as Chan manhandled her struggle, not allowing her to move one bit. "P- PLEASE! O- OUCH!"

"You popular people are so pathetic. Acting all mighty but actually not capable of anything." Jeongin shook his head in disdain.

"Oh it's not just that reason but one of the many behind these popular kids being pathetic!" Han smacked the back of her head, enjoying how she shook under them.

"Hyunjin better punish her well! Tsk! He was just trying to ask you on a date! With all due respect!" Changbin pulled at her hair.

"And you treated her like he disrespected you or something." Seungmin shook his head in disgust.

"How do you like it now, huh?" Felix suddenly splashed ice cold water on her face, causing her to cry out as he ignored her begs, a cold expression on his face.

The boys were ignoring her constant pleads and cries, laughing and spanking her before a voice came from upstairs, a shadow forming on the stairs. "... Guys?" It had been 2 days since the whole incident, Hyunjin was slowly recovering. "W- What are you doin-" the boy's eyes widened as he moved further down, his legs going shaky at the sight before him.

"I- Is that… WHAT THE HECK?!" Rushing the rest of the way to Chan, Hyunjin crouched down in front of him, moving the weeping girl's hair out of the way. "IS T- THAT Y/-" gasping loudly, the boy looked around at his friends, getting angry at the sight of her red face with her skirt resting on her back, limbs tied up tightly. "WHAT ARE YOU-- LET HER GO!" Getting up on his feet, he tried to fight Chan, being pushed back by Han and Changbin as he tried to reach Y/n.

"Don't you remember how you were insulted for literally only trying to ask the girl you like out?!" Felix yelled over the commotion he was making with Han and Changbin.

"We are not your enemies!" Han panted heavily, having a hard time pushing the bigger boy back.

"They dumped food on you! Pushed you to the ground! Made fun of you! The whole cafeteria laughed at you!" Minho added in to the fire, frustrated from how fucking whipped their friend pathetically was.

"B- But that's n- not Y/n's f- fault!" Hyunjin wavered, biting his lip as his heart started thumping.

"Yes it fucking is!" Seungmin shot at him. "You think anyone would have dared done anything had she not done that pathetic cute little act before walking out on her Princess heals like that?" Hyunjin blinked at them and then at her struggling and crying form, his fresh wounds cutting open once again as he remembered all of it. Pushing Han and Changbin away, the boy walked closer to her now, crouching in front of Chan as he tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

"H- HYUNJIN PLEASE! PLEASE! I DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! PLEASE!" His heart flurttered from how his name rolled off her tongue, throat getting dry. Oh how he'd wished to hear her say his name.

"Yes, you did." Reaching for her ass, Hyunjin placed his shaking and sweaty hand over it, feeling it up before he groped it, instantly getting hard. "Yes, you did. You allowed them to treat me like that." Y/n was shaking her head repeatedly and he grew frustrated, slapping her already spanked cheek. "Don't lie… baby. I fucking hate it when people do that."

Getting up, he started undoing his belt before he could stop himself, pulling it out the hoops before doubling it and bringing it to her ass, feeling a strange kind of satisfaction from her cry of pain. "All I asked was a question. I never stepped past my boundaries…" Going for her beautiful sit spots now, Hyunjin forced himself to not drool before he made her scream again. "And you had them humiliate me like that as if I did something disrespectful… tsk…" Y/n was shaking in Chan's hold as she hysterically cried from the pain, shock and terror. "And now I have no choice but to humiliate you back, huh?"

"Exactly, good little girls don't behave like that at all." Jeongin shook his head, making Hyunjin look up at all of them, a new kind of darkness in his eyes.

"Get out." That was enough to make them all empty the basement of his house as his parents were never home, taking Y/n from Chan before he followed others and closed the door behind them. "Had you not done that disgusting little act, you wouldn't have been humiliated like this, baby." The girl trembled as he sat in the chair, throwing the belt away.

"H- Hyunjin, p- please… I am sorry…"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, I am afraid, darling." Affectionately brushing her hair out of her pretty face, Hyunjin admired her beautiful features that were currently swollen and red, pressing his lips to her nose. "Not when you're looking so beautiful like this with your ass tight in this lace underwear, baby." The girl felt a shudder go down his spine as he caressed and groped her ass to soothe the pain. "I hope you didn't let them see too much, huh? You're all mine."

Y/n let out a weak little whimper when he placed her on the ground, spreading the bar which forcefully held her legs open, causing him to get even more hard from the sight. "I wasn't planning this, Princess. But now that you're here…" Hyunjin's voice was dangerously low as he opened his pants, hurriedly tugging them down along his boxers and allowing his hard cock go spring out.

"W- Wait!" The girl tried to look behind her as she was on her chest. "What are you d- doing?!" Her time was alert and alarmed, breaths heavy.

"What am I doing?" Raising an eyebrow, Hyunjin wiped the sweat off his forehead and pushed his hair back that was heavily sweating, adjusting his spectacles as he crouched behind her. "What do you fucking think?" As Y/n slowly realised what was about to take place, her struggles became frequent and loud once again, begging him to stop. "Tsk… sorry but I don't listen to nasty little whores. I bet you're not even a virgin despite barely being 18, huh?" Grabbing her panties, Hyunjin ripped them off, leaning down to kiss and lick at her bruised ass, the marks caused by his belt and his friends -which he wasn't so happy about- making his cock twitch as the tip grazed against the soft skin of her sitspots, causing the girl to shudder.

"H- Hyunji--"

"Just shut up already, Y/n-ah…" His fingers started to graze against her squishy pussy lips that were leaking. "You're leaking so much… Tsk… is it one of your fetishes? Being punished by your… owner and his friends? Was that maybe why you overacted so much on the situation? Purposefully acting out… perhaps?" The girl could only pathetically cry in response, hating how his finger pushed in her pussy lips, the spreader bar forcing her to open up as his index finger slowly rubbed her up and down.

"So what if a… nerd likes a popular girl? Must it be so complicated? Must it always be so fucking stereotypical? Why? Are we not humans?" His nail prodded against her opening slowly that he wasn't honestly sure was even her opening, looking down to make sure he wasn't doing anything wrong, his only knowledge all the porn he'd watched. "Why am I treated like trash, huh?" A gasp left Y/n when his finger suddenly slid in her cunt, slowly pumping up and down. "Just because I wear spectacles for my bad eyesight and am good at studying? Is that so bad, huh?!"

"N- No! No! Please!"

"Yes… yes…" Hyunjin slowly spoke, rage filling him now as he smacked her ass with his free hand again, continuing to finger her. "That's exactly what it is. I am trash because I am better than you, right? You popular kids are nothing but pathetic little disgusting insecure jealous shits." Adding another finger inside her, Hyunjin scissored her walls and prepared her for his surprisingly big cock.

"And do you know what should happen to disgusting little kids like you?" Gripping his cock with one hand, the boy started to piss on her red ass, making it burn before he pulled his fingers out of her, getting her shirt out of the way and spraying some on her back too, making her squeal loudly in disgust, trying to get away. "They should know their place and be kept in it. All of you should have an owner like me to make you learn."

Shaking his head at her crying, the male pushed his still leaking length in her hole, moaning and grunting at how tight but pleasurable it really was, spreading the bar to it's highest limit before gripping her thighs, his lips falling open at how good it felt. "N- No!" Hyunjin grunted and turned her around on his cock. "I want to see you as I fuck into you and claim you! You're all mine!"

Starting to fuck her hard and rough, the boy reached over and kissed her swells, using one of his hands to rip her bra off. "Fuck…" Hyunjin couldn't believe the beautiful sight before him. "You're so beautiful, Y/n…" He complemented, genuinely affectionate. "Truly… both up here" he finally kissed her lips, moaning at the taste of her raspberry chapstick. "And down here" the boy kissed both of her adorable little fat tits, licking at the nipple and giggling when they hardened. "It really happens in real life!" He excitedly remarked, twitching inside her, already close from all that he got to see.

"I am lucky I have friends that care for me" his hips were moving at a quick pace, Hyunjin's cock bulging against the skin of her stomach, it's shape and movement easy to make out as he used her as a literal sock. "Because I was planning to give up on you. The last 3 days have been so hard. I was starting to believe that maybe there really was no way. That maybe all pretty and popular girls have to go to the cocky muscular jerk that just plays them, makes them cry. Maybe guys like me are always nothing but a mat for Princess' to wipe their feet on." He couldn't help but softly smack her face, pulling at her hair before biting down at her neck to leave marks.

"H- Hyunjin… p- please sto-"

The boy sighed in disappointment at her whisper, shaking his head before pinching her nipple and kissing her again. "No, baby. No. You'll be good and behave. If you don't behave, I promise this will go on and on. There is no way out of this unless you act good. Like a good little Princess." Kissing her lips again, Hyunjin finally managed to push his balls in, collapsing against her as his own sweat fell on the glass of his spectacles. "M- My little Princess. I've always liked you in silence. Ever since Kindergarten. But I won't anymore. You will be mine now that we are of age."

Y/n could only shudder as she felt him cum deep inside her, kissing her lips again as he went motionless, holding her as tight to himself as he could.

It went on for another two hours, Hyunjin losing a track of just how many times he came deep inside her, fucking her in unconsciousness too as she helplessly dozed off and woke up again before she agreed. She will be a good girl. For him.

That was the only way.

Y/n didn't really go to school after that incident, the prom approaching just 3 days later. "You look absolutely stunning, Princess." Hyunjin's voice rang in his bedroom and from behind Y/n as she stared at herself in the mirror.

"Ehhh~ s- stop…" The girl whimpered out, blushing as she lowered her head and turned around, slowly reaching him before she nuzzled her face in arm shyly, not even looking at him. "I- I don't."

"Yes, you do" the boy's eyebrows furrowed as he softly grasped her wrist, tightening his hold on it possessively. "You're the prettiest Princess to ever exist. And you look so beautiful in this moment that my heart might just stop" gripping her ass that was locked in a chastity, Hyunjin pulled her closer, growling lowly before he gripped her chin and forcefully kissed her.

"I- I love how I c- can be at my utmost c- comfort with you…" She whispered, so glad that she was in a comfortable dress that she liked and not a high-end extremely revealing dress that she didn't even like deep down but wore it for the name and price, being uncomfortable in it the whole time. Before her eyebrows furrowed because he wasn't wearing his spectacles.

Her pussy shivered from just how Hyunjin kept her in her little place as well.

"That is a normal feeling for those surrounded by people that actually care for them and not their status, Angel." Y/n sighed and nodded slowly, knowing he was right. She knew her friends were fake and bitched behind her back. Of course she did. "Now…" He heavily sighed and moved past her and towards the dressing table. "Let's get those uncomfortable and irritating contacts in."

Y/n quickly reached him, stopping his hand from grabbing the container before she reached for his spectacles resting not so far away, unfolding them before resting them on his nose and pushing them up. "Must the nerd always change for the girl he likes?" A bright smile made its way on his face at her words, chucking deeply before he nodded and kissed her forehead appreciatively. "What you did was wrong but I was no good either. Thank you, Hyunjin. Please always keep me as your little Princess. It's the only time I wanna be a Princess honestly."

His heart was fluttering. "That is the only thing you were born to be, Angel." She giggled at his words before stopping, realising that he was serious and gulping at his serious expression.

"Y- Yes, Hyunjin…" She felt so damn small. Fuck. Fiddling with jacket, Y/n sneakily looked up at the handsome boy. "I- I've been g- good, right Hyunjin?"

His hands toyed with her ass as he swayed them side by side slowly. "Hmm…?"

"T- Then… w- will you please m- make me feel g- good?" Her locked pussy was leaking.

A deep chuckle left him. "Hmm. Maybe?" When the girl whined and pouted softly, Hyungjin gripped her hair and pulled her face closer before kissing her deeply. "Behave tonight and I'll consider, alright?" Before both of them left to prom.

#non con #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #skz #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x you #skz x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #skz scenarios #skz imagines #dark kpop #dark fic #dark skz #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader

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yvonneloveposting · 2 years

Text

The Forgotten Princess's Family

Hi! Just a little some thing I made. You guys know hurt/comfort? This is comfort/hurt/comfort/HURT

Words: 858

Tw: Child Neglect, Ghosts, Murder, Hanging, Coups

Lily raises Claude's abandoned child in the ruby palace, out of sight from her murderous father. The child looks so much like Diana it hurts, but she raises Athanasia with all the care and love she has, and she watches her little girl grow until she can read the old fairytales Lily had read to her by herself. Her little girl grows by the day, and she couldn't be more proud if what she's become. The other maids come and go, but Lily stays by the forgotten princess's side for years.

When her little girl turns five, the red knight who usually never leaves the emperor's side comes with a little gift for her girl. She doesn't expect to see him again, but he comes nearly everyday afterwards, even if he can only stay for a little, playing dolls with Athy when Lily is busy, or helping out. Lily wonders why he does this, but she never questions it. They settle into routine, taking turns playing with Athy while the other cleans up, silently brought together by the memory of a dancer woman with shining magenta eyes, long gone but still there in some way.

One day little Athy asks what her mother was like.

"Your mother was wonderful, just like you." Felix says before lifting his little girl high into the air while she giggles. And Lily smiles, her little family complete. The ghost of a long dead dancer hovers with them, watching her child be thrust into the air by a man whose smile still makes her heart flutter, while she stands side by side with Lily, whose kisses she still remembers. And they're happy. All of them.

On her ninth birthday Athy meets her birth father for the first time. He has the same jeweled eyes as her, so she knows it must be him, but when she introduces herself, he acts like he doesn't know her. She's ignored, like she's not important enough to even count as his daughter in his eyes. She runs away until she doesn't know where she is, she's lost, and a pair of arms wrap around her.

It's ok dear. You'll be okay, trust me.

She see the arms now as they wrapped around her. She felt protected in this woman's arms. Safe from everything that could harm her.

Now, follow me Athy, I'll take you back to the Ruby Palace.

The woman's arms released her, and she took her little hand, and Athy trusted her. This felt right, as she looked up at the beautiful woman leading her back home, who looked so much like herself, and felt right. Like this was how it was meant to be.

The woman lead her to the doors of the Ruby Palace, and that's when it clicked for her.

"Mom?" The woman smiled softly and nodded, before holding her daughter in her arms like she wished she could've in life.

I have to go now sweetheart. But know I love you.

The woman disappeared leaving Athy alone outside of Ruby Palace. Lily had been up all night waiting for her with Felix, and they embraced their child happily, as she told them of her mother, who'd led her back to the palace, and he knows it's silly, but still Felix can't dismiss the feeling Athy is telling the truth.

Years pass, and their happy lives are disrupted during the debutante, when Roger Alpheus presents a new princess Jennette, and somehow she melts Claudes icy heart with her kindness, something Athy was never able to do. Lily and Felix comfort her best as they can, but some part of her will always long to be loved by Claude. And then, disaster strikes.

Jennette is poisoned and Athy is accused. Claude throws her in jail without a second thought, to be hanged at dawn for her treason. Lily and Felix know it couldn't be her. They know how much she used to long for a sister, they saw how much she loved Jennette, and Lily defends her. She tells the emperor he's wrong, and how much Athy loves her sister, and he has her taken to the dungeon for being complicit.

Athy and her mother spend their last night in jail together, as Diana wishes she could comfort them. But she can't. She already used up her one visit to the ground world, and so she can only watch as her daughter sobs into Lily's arms, knowing by this time tomorrow she'll be long gone.

Morning comes, and Athanasia is marched to the noose, dying almost immediately, and soon after Lily joins her. All the while Felix's blood boils as he itches to kill the king he'd sworn to protect. But Felix is smart. He knows it won't work. He'll have to find some way to kill Claude, but it won't be today, where he would get caught for it. He just needs someone to help him, and it just so happens the lovely princess has just awoken from her coma to find the most important person to her dead because of the emperor.

Claude will be lucky if he survives past midnight.

#wmmap #lily wmmap #wmmap diana #felix robane #felidia #liliana #lp athy

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ahjustroza · 3 years

Text

Last Legacy Headcanon

💤Sleeping Together💤

(SFW)

Kind of a self insert type of headcanon. So that you beautiful people can imagine yourselves in Anisa’s arms. Or wrapped by Sage’s tail. Or Felix on top of you. Pick your poison ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

✨MC is always gender neutral in this blog✨

Enjoy~

Sage

I feel like in his case you are the little spoon most nights unless you tell him otherwise

He will always face you

Not because he doesn't trust you to turn his back at you

But he has to have you within his eyesight at all times

He wraps his arms around you or lets you wrap him with your arms while he rests his head against your chest.

He is probably the one to sleep on the wall side as well

Meaning, no matter which side you turn he can still cuddle you while keeping an eye on the room, window, or door for any possible threats at night

He won't let you know tho

oh no

He'll make sure you get your sleep without worrying about anything

He'll worry for you

Also will make everything so causal as well, unless you ask too many questions about his sleep routine you will never know he guards you even at nights

He'll purr and wrap his tail around your leg each time

He likes to have his tail around your leg

That way he can pull you even closer and feel your body more

Hair pets are a routine if you are willing

Kisses are also a must

He'll either kiss you on the cheek causally if you are both too tired and need to just lie down or give you longer and more sloppy kisses here and there

Playful on the bed for no one's surprise

Not always for heated follow-up moments if you catch my meaning, but romantic and intimate closeness is always there

You two are just too comfortable with each other and can lie down any way you want

He just has to feel your presence at all times

Also Sage is a light sleeper in my opinion

He has the potential to sleep like a bear but he also can intentionally sleep light as well

He'll check you each time you move away from him in your sleep

Either with his hands or by opening his eyes slightly

When you wake up for the bathroom or to grasp water he'll sit upright and look where you are going

Maybe ask you half asleep where you go in the middle of the night and if you don't answer he'll get up and follow you to see what you are up to

And he doesn't like walking around half asleep

Some nights he'll hold your arm and make you lay back down and grab you a glass of water himself

You two are way too comfortable

You won't mind if he purrs too loud in his sleep or throws one leg on you in his sleep

He also won't mind even if you sleep on top of him, take all the space in bed to yourself, or even drool in your sleep

He also won't mind morning hair or morning breath

He'll kiss you good morning and beg you to make/find breakfast every morning

Anisa

She actually cares for your sleep schedule a lot more than you do

Anisa is not like the controlling and then lecturing you for not getting enough sleep kind

She instead gives attention to how energic you wake up after long or short sleep every day and calculate how much sleep you need in her head 😌

Everyone's body works differently, some needs more than 8 hours of sleep while others are fine with only 4 hours of sleep

If you sleep less than her she'll make sure to lie down beside you if you like to spend time in bed until you sleep yourself

She enjoys your company in any way possible

While giving you your space

She'll learn your sleep habits as well

What kind of pillow do you sleep well with

Is it high or low? Hard or soft? What kind of pillowcase do you prefer?

Oh you bet she'll even change the bed with a new one if you are not comfortable with the old one

She likes to talk to you before going to sleep in the bed too!

She mostly would like to talk about the future of you two in my opinion

Where would you go together or what new things to try...

She'll ask you many questions about your world and home

I can also picture you two just wear your most comfortable pajamas and just be yourselves and really, really enjoy each other

Your pajamas might look ridiculous but have an insane level of comfort

Like you can wear just a random shirt with a really old coffee (or anything really, maybe soup stain? wine stain? pomegranate stains are a bitch to get rid of as well) stain that is just not going away no matter what you do

Or you can just wear a potato bag all she cares

She is nonjudgmental

She accepts you with your everything

And she actually likes it when you be yourself without having a need to look perfect at all times

She LOVES it when you just be comfortable around her

So just be natural

Wear your ugliest socks

She'll still call you gorgeous 🥺

Ah and she'll be comfortable around you as well

She is calm around you

Like really calm

Peaceful

Safe

Her muscles are relaxed as if she were just out of a spa day

You two start off by cuddling but when you both fall asleep it is just a matter of which position do you sleep most comfortable with

She just needs to feel your presence but won't sleep on top of you as Sage does

She might like to just put her arm around your waist in her sleep or sleep close to your body without putting her arms around you

I feel like she won't take a lot of space in bed to herself either

She is good with sharing

If you are a clingy sleeper she is fine with it as well

You can sleep on top of her and she'll caress your cheek before finding herself a comfortable position while not disturbing your sleep while you're still on top of her

She might want you to make a coffee for her in the morning while she takes care of the breakfast most mornings

You are the mighty barista after all 💪

If you don't know how to cook she'll teach you so that you can surprise her with a nice breakfast one day

While she might enjoy drinking her coffee with you in bed, you are not allowed to eat in bed

Felix

Yes.

He is ✨smol and pretty✨ but definitely has the potential to take a lot of space in bed while sleeping

His bed was huge and comfy before he signs to the Starsworns too in my opinion

Filthy rich and with a big comfy bed hmmm

But I also think he will just curl in your arms too so

It is a 50/50 situation with him

You are mostly the big spoon because he is

a bottom

yea

I don't decide the rules here

He will have a hard time getting comfy sleeping beside you early in the relationship

He is nervous for funny reasons

and adorable

He cares how he looks around you

Also, he is grown up in an almost perfectionist environment. Appearance among the upper class is always important.

His pajamas are comfortable, most likely silk or something soft

You have to take the first step to break the uncomfortable walls with him

It is not like Felix is pushing you away or don't want to sleep in the same bed with you

He does

But he is shy and nervous like I said

Be casual around him, wear your most comfortable pajamas without caring how ridiculous they might look on you

I am saying this way too much but I don't believe people wear fancy pajamas at all

If they do they belong to jail.

Wear that shirt with Spongebob print that you bought in 8th grade y'all

He'll find it reassuring but will also make comments on your pajamas

Because he is a "quick answerer"

He has a comment for everything 😌

But he'll relax after seeing you being yourself around him without worrying about how you look

Also not making comments about his bed hair or the way he sleeps will help a lot as well

Just be gentle with my sub bottom boy

Caress his hair when you hold him close

Maybe murmur a calming melody while stroking his back

Just enjoy his presence as much as he does enjoy yours

It is all looking mesmerizing and cute. Just like straight out of a romance movie awe

Holding the love of your life in your arms and feel his warmth

Until he falls asleep.

He is a blanked hog

I am not accepting any opposite commentary about this and baby boy takes all the blanket for himself in my dreams

And you will let him as well. as I do in those dreams

hehe

No, but I am serious.

He will wrap himself with the blanket

If he could breathe easily he would put his head under the blanket as well

Felix does this so that he can feel pressure around him

Something to hold him tight all around

Blanket hogging can be a huge sign of self insecurity and fear of outside factors/ harm coming to them in a sleep state

People that had a lot of sleep paralysis during their childhood tend to wrap their body with a blanket for the sense of security and sometimes feeling nervous even sleeping on their back

Those people usually sleep sideways or on their stomach

Felix has traumas and a not too peaceful childhood so I believe he will unconsciously feel like he is not secure in his sleep

I also think he is a heavy sleeper unless he is napping

He is a night owl yes

but it is only half because he doesn't need too much sleep

I think he might feel nervous in the dark. Not afraid, but nervous.

He saw a war against Lord of Shadows and lost the entire Starsworn

He also knows necromancy and nighttime rituals

There are also many abominations and monsters in The Last Legacy universe as well. Most likely he fought many during the war

My point is, sleeping is partly torture for Felix without him knowing it

So when he got used to sleeping beside you, he started to feel alive when he woke up

His unconscious told him that he was safe with you

That you would protect him

That you will always be beside him, ready to pull him in your arms

And your scent is a calming factor for him too

He started off by getting more and more clingy with you in his sleep each night

When you hit the final/ 100th Level (the chosen barista: Felix’s hug pillow) with making Felix comfortable in his sleep, he starts sleeping in positions such as curling in your arms, tangling his legs to yours, and getting the blanked all the way up to your necks

Or if you turn your back to him in your sleep, he will sleep either pressing his back to yours and hugging the blanket at the same time or wrap an arm and leg around you with the blanket covering his entire back

On summer nights tho you will have to put your arm around him with a small space between you two to not get sweaty

Or he will not care about the heat and sleep on top of you

He mostly gets lucky with the summer breeze on top of you, but you'll feel super hot beneath his body

Put your arm around him if you want to sleep

Either way, he wakes up looking healthier each day

Just seeing how relaxed his shoulders look in the mornings feels heavenly for you

You are good for him

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lumosinlove · 4 years

Text

PREVIOUSLY ON RELIC KEEL:

We get our first glimpse of Finn, who is still in Saint Clair orphanage. Finn has worked out that Crucio is being given to the orphans because it allows them to see their families again and makes them want to stay at Saint Clair so they can keep receiving it—even if it means reliving memories every day that are not their own. Finn doesn’t want that at all, and he’s been in solitary for the last week because he refuses to eat, realizing that the drug is mixed in with the food.

Luke is struggling with his mother, who seems to be delighted that Luke’s father is gone. She has completely transformed into a woman Luke doesn’t recognize, offering him alcohol, and wanting to get rid of Luke’s father’s things. Luke escapes her words, retreating to his father’s study where he can take Crucio and re-arrange the events in his own mind, making it so his father never got taken away.

Remus and Sirius, at James’ house for a movie night, have an awkward exchange in the kitchen. Remus wants to ask Sirius if he wants to go sailing with him, quickly realizing the unexplainable but seemingly unavoidable crush he’s developed on Sirius, but they get interrupted by Saint.

Saint asks Remus to help him sneak into The Hogwarts History Museum, where Remus is working for the summer, but when Remus refuses, guesses he has to take matters into his own hands.

Saint finds Luke on the grasses with the others, watching a movie. Luke wants his father’s watch, which Saint stole, back, but Saint refuses. Luke can’t believe Saint has never seen many movies, but rudely puts it up to Saint’s “fucked childhood.” They argue, and it just makes Saint quietly angrier. Saint thinks more deeply about it than he lets on, though, reflecting on people’s need to control things—a need that Crucio plays on. Saint leaves, but not after stealing the keys to Luke’s car, deciding he can control things a different way—with ancient gold from an ancient pirate ship, perhaps.

Sirius follows Saint out of the house. He can tell that he’s more on edge than usual, that he has been ever since Logan arrived. Saint won’t tell him what he wants from the museum, though—a treasure map to the Voldemort. Sirius is hurt. He’s angry at himself for liking Remus. Both Sirius and Saint, it seems, have a hard time distinguishing pity and friendship.

Leo and Logan are waiting for Saint so that they can all go to the museum together. Leo asks about Finn and finds out that Logan and Finn are in love, that they’re everything to each other. It stings Leo’s slowly developing feelings for Logan.

Remus and Sirius go to the history museum to try and thwart Saint and find out he’s working with Logan and Leo, and that they’re all after The Voldemort. Saint confesses he’s trying to help Sirius, to Sirius’ surprise. Leo wants to finish his father’s work. Logan wants Finn—but no one seems willing to help him bust Finn out. When they find the drawer where the map should be kept in the museum’s archive room, however, it’s gone, having been taken out on loan by Luke’s father, Victor Deveaux. Victor and Luke loved the tale of the treasure, too. Perhaps it has something to do with Victor being sent to jail.

They go to Luke’s house where Saint climbs through Luke’s bedroom window. Saint studies a sleeping Luke, a strange, unexpected constant—a brooding, rude, beautiful one, that is. And oh, how Saint hates letting things surprise him. Saint wakes Luke, who has taken Crucio, and plans to use his father’s watch as leverage to get Luke to help them find the map.

*****cw: mentions of drugs, mentions of use of drugs, mentions of past deaths, mentions of past abuse, mentions of blood*****

part vii

Luke’s father was standing over Remus’ shoulder, flickering as the Felix wore off, and it was really fucking with Luke’s head.

“Some fellow treasure hunters,” his father said with one of his soft smiles. “Sounds fun.”

“Sober up,” Remus’ voice filtered in. “What makes you sober up?”

“I’m not drunk.”

Luke watched Remus just shake his head at him. His father’s flickering frame was looking closely at Saint, who was picking up everything in sight.

“We both know what you are,” Remus replied. “Now, come on. Coffee? Anything I can do without waking your mom up.”

“She’s not going to wake up,” Luke rubbed his eyes. “She takes these—sleeping things, I don’t know.”

“Well—“ Remus hesitated. Behind him, Luke’s father flickered out.

“I’m fine,” Luke said. “What’s going on?”

“We’re bargaining, remember?” Saint held up Luke’s father’s watch again. “Tell me about your father, Deveaux.”

Luke blinked. “What?”

“Well, Lupin’s already told us a little. You, him, and your treasure hunting days.”

Luke looked at Remus, who looked half-guilty and half-curious. “You mean—like when we were kids?”

Luke didn’t want to tell them about the time he had spent with his father in here, just the two of them, fantasizing about gold and pirates.

“We were at the museum just now,” Remus began slowly. “Your dad loaned out a map…it’s of the Cradle. Of a, what was it, a trading post?”

The tall, blond boy standing in a corner nodded.

Remus looked back to Luke. “Have you seen it? Here?”

“A map?” Luke scrubbed his hand over his face again. “What fucking time is it?”

“Oh, he’s swearing,” Saint said as he opened another drawer. “He’s back.”

“Fuck—” Luke clamped his mouth shut. He turned away from Saint and fully towards Remus. Sirius and another dark haired boy were standing near the blond one. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Treasure?”

Remus winced. “Like the Voldemort.”

“The—what? He was never serious about that stuff,” Luke replied. “It was just for fun.”

“And yet he takes it upon himself to acquire an ancient document,” Saint piped up from behind him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luke said again over his shoulder.

“Um—“

Luke looked towards the blond boy, who had taken a hesitant step forward.

“I know what it looks like. My dad had a copy.”

“A true father’s affair,” Saint mumbled.

“What?” Luke asked for what felt like the one hundredth time.

“If we could just look around—” the blond began.

“You come here at ass o’clock in the morning to look around may dad’s study? For a treasure map that your dad has?”

“Used to have,” the blond’s eyes went colder. “His version was lost with him and his boat.”

Luke swallowed, eyes drifting away from the other boy’s blue ones. He looked back to Remus. They used to spend hours playing pirate when they were younger. Remus looked like he was remembering those hours, too.

Luke only had to blink for that golden-edged memory to mingle with the hours Remus had held Luke close in Luke’s bed, letting Luke soak his t-shirt through when they’d taken his dad away.

“Why do you think my dad has it?” Luke said now. “What do you mean loaned?”

“We went looking for it at the museum just now,” Remus explained. “Well—not not we. Saint stole your car—”

Luke looked back at Saint. “I’m aware.”

Saint flashed a smile.

“—and went with Logan,” Remus pointed to the somber looking brunette, “and Leo,” the cold-eyed blond, “to more or less, God, break into the museum archives. If they’re going to find the treasure—which, in my opinion, they’re not—they need—”

“A map,” Luke said, then scoffed out a laugh. “You guys are fucking crazy.”

Remus ran a hand through his hair. “Look, none of this was my idea, but your dad’s name was on the loan card. If it’s here, it's here, and then they’ll take the picture they need and we can all leave. I mean, shit, I have work at seven tomorrow morning, guys.”

Luke let out a long breath. He was tired, from being woken up and from the Felix, and he frankly wanted Saint to stop messing with his father’s things.

He nodded at Remus. “You can look around. And I will. The rest of you, don’t fucking—” he snatched one of his father’s fountain pens out of Saint’s hands. “touch anything.”

Saint just tiled his head defiantly. Luke couldn’t help but hold his gaze for a moment, remembering waking up to those syrupy eyes and feeling—he didn’t know what. Like he was standing on the edge of the Howler cliffs, above a storm-warmed, rough ocean. Saint’s hand had been in his hair, and it had been ever so gentle, unlike the rest of him. His words were tough, and, from what Luke could tell by his own jabs at Saint, so was his skin. He guessed a kid didn’t grow up the way Saint had without at least a little armor—Saint was practically drowning in his own.

As if Luke could talk. Luke looked away and gestured towards Remus. “Let’s get this over with.”

Luke opened drawers and cabinets. He looked through stacks of paper and under dressers. He checked the den, even, just in case, but there was nothing. Everything was orderly—and even more, the police had taken so much. Any paper they could get their hands on. His mom wouldn’t tell him what they were looking for, and neither would the lawyers that occasionally came to the house.

But there was no map.

Luke began to double check, if only at Remus’ insistence, but he was at a loss. There were only so many places—

“What’s your birthday, tweedle?” Saint said suddenly.

“What does that have to do—” Luke began as he turned, but his words died in his throat when he saw Saint.

Luke’s father had had the old map of Hogwarts framed and hanging in his study ever since Luke could remember. He knew its markings as well as he knew the island as it was today. Saint had it tilted to the side, revealing a sliver of sleek steel. A safe.

“I told you not to touch anything,” Luke said breathlessly. He hadn’t known about that safe. He’d stared at that map a thousand times and he hadn’t known. Did his mother know? The lawyers?

“I bet you one of Leo here’s best breakfast sandwiches that the map’s in here,” Saint replied, nodding to the frame. “Little bit of an X marks the spot, don’t you think? Now,” Saint reached for the painting and unhooked it smoothly, setting it on the ground to reveal the neat square metal sunken into the wall with a dial in the center. “Tell me your birthday.”

“Why do you think the combination is my birthday?”

Saint rolled his eyes. “Because you’re his son. Fathers do that. Don’t they?”

Saint asked the last part like he was trying to be sure, but wasn’t.

“January first,” Luke replied.

Saint hummed as he leaned in. “New year, new you, huh?”

Luke just swallowed dryly as he listened to the dial tick. It felt so loud in the room that was now holding its breath. It felt like it lasted forever, but, finally, the safe opened with a gentle click.

“Damn, Saint,” Sirius said softly.

“I know, I’m so good,” Saint said, and made to push the door open when Luke pushed forward and grabbed his hand. Saint’s fingers were warm in his own. Saint raised an eyebrow.

“Like you said,” Luke still felt breathless. “I’m his son. I’m doing this.”

Saint raised his free hand in surrender until Luke let go, and he backed away. Luke faced the safe. He felt the Felix in him all over again, though it was long gone. He felt his father, smelled his cigars. Luke reached for the door, too aware of the four pairs of eyes on him, and pulled it open.

It was relatively empty. There were papers that looked like they had once bound money, but lay ripped and lifeless now. There was a case of expensive cigars.

And there was an envelope with Luke’s name on it.

“There’s a letter,” Luke said faintly, picking it up. “For me.”

He looked up at Remus, and Remus nodded.

“Like the clues he would leave us?” Remus said quietly.

Luke went for the seal—only to have it snatch out of his hands.

He looked up, eyes wide, and found the unfamiliar brunette—Logan, Remus had said—staring back at him, at all of them, with wild green eyes.

“Logan,” Leo said, voice filled with surprise. “What the hell are you—”

But Logan just backed up towards the door. There was a familiar click, and the flame of a lighter appeared in his other hand.

“Hey—” Luke stepped forward, panicked, but Saint’s palm pushed against his chest.

“Don’t,” Saint said softly, for Luke’s ears only.

“That’s mine,” Luke snarled, shoving Saint away.

“Yeah, well I have something I want, too,” Logan snapped, and then looked at Saint. He held the flame closer to the envelope. “You want to know what this says? Then—”

“So do you, Logan,” Saint said. “You need that money. You know you do. The Carrows know it, too.”

“You owe me something first. I want Finn.”

“I don’t owe you,” Saint replied evenly. “I don’t owe anyone. That’s kind of my general idea in life, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Logan faltered, and the flame slipped close enough to the envelope to make smoke trail, but when Luke stepped forward, Logan took another step back. He looked small, framed by the grand desk and leather chairs. Small and scared.

“You left us in there,” he finally whispered, and Luke thought he heard Saint’s breathing stop and hold, like a punch to the gut.

“He was seven years old,” Sirius growled, and Luke didn’t know what they were talking about, was done waiting.

“Do you know the last time I talked to my dad?” Luke said, voice raising. He glanced upstairs, careful of his mother despite her pills, and dropped it to a deadly whisper again. “He’s not allowed calls. Not until the investigation’s over. This could—” Luke hesitated at putting his wildest, most desperate hope into words. “This could prove he’s—”

“Do you think I give a shit about the last time you talked to your daddy?” Logan snarled just as harshly. “When’s the last time I talked to mine? Oh. Right.”

“Please,” Luke heard the word rip out of his throat before he could help it, but Logan wasn’t even looking at him. Logan’s eyes were on Saint.

“Help me get Finn out. The windows are barred now. There are alarms, I’ve seen them.”

“I didn’t use a window,” Saint replied.

“Then show me how you did it.”

“You won’t be able to get in the way I got out.”

“Then do it for me.”

If Luke was begging, so was Logan.

“Fuck, I’ll help you,” Luke shouted. “Just don’t. Please. My father—”

“You don’t know shit about Saint Clair,” Logan snapped, then looked back at Saint. “We both know where he is. Why I haven’t seen him. Saint—”

“All right,” Saint said, voice calm. His brown eyes reminded Luke of stormy seas, ruddy with stirred up sand. “All right, Logan. Just don’t burn the letter.”

“Promise,” Logan said.

Saint laughed, cold and clear. “What has a promise ever meant to either of us? I said I would. Take it or leave it.”

There was a terrifying moment in which Luke worried that the letter would go up in flames anyway. That he would never know what his father had wanted him to have, wanted him to know. He didn’t know Logan, didn’t trust him.

The lighter clicked off and Logan held out the envelope. Luke took it and gave Logan a shove towards the door for good measure.

“Get out,” he said. “Get out of my house.”

“What does the letter say?” Logan replied firmly. “It could be about the map.”

Luke laughed, and it rang a close twin to Saint’s in his own ears. “You should have thought about that before you held it hostage for your orphan friend.”

Logan took a step forward, mouth opening to protest, but Luke was bigger than him, stronger and taller. He met him chest to chest.

“I said get out.”

“Logan,” Saint sighed. “Listen to him.”

Leo stepped forward then, a gentle hand on Logan’s fiery frame. Logan simmered for another moment, but let Leo lead him from the room, lighter still clutched in his fist. Remus followed them with a whispered, I’m sorry that Luke barely heard.

He faintly heard Saint say something to Sirius, who followed Remus.

Saint, the only one left in the room now, looked at Luke steadily. Luke expected some sort of joke, or a snarky remark about the desperation Luke had shown—something he tried to never let slip through. He didn’t care what it was. He just wanted to be alone, to have this room feel like his father’s again. Instead of a crime scene. Instead of a lead, or a pin-point on a map. Just his father’s familiar room.

Instead Saint tossed him something that shone—his keys.

“Let us know, if you want,” Saint said simply, and held the gold watch out. Luke took it with shaking fingers, watching him go.

Then, he looked down at the letter, at his name in his father’s familiar scrawl. He peeled back the seal with a lump forming in his throat.

Remus’ steps slowed to a stop when he saw who was waiting for him at the end of his dock in the five-AM light.

Sirius had his flip-flops beside him, his feet dangling over the edge into the water, the Wolfsbane rocking gently in the early morning waves to his left.

“Sirius?” Remus called, more so that the first thing Sirius felt wasn’t the shaking of his footsteps than anything else.

Sirius jerked around, startled either way, and scrambled to stand.

“Hi,” he said. “Or, morning.”

“Morning,” Remus laughed a little, glancing at the boat. “I…is this you taking me up on my offer?”

Sirius ran a hand through his thick black hair. “Ah, well, I’m here to say sorry about last night. Dragging you into it and all. That wasn’t fair of Saint, but he’s…I don’t know what he is right now. I usually do but…not this time, I guess.”

Remus nodded, trying to buy himself time to figure out what to say. He stepped onto his boat and took a rope in hand, just for something to do. To hold onto. Sirius had spoken the words plainly enough. There was nothing about Saint and himself being together, but Remus still sensed some sort of intimacy that wasn’t quite friendship, just as he had at the museum.

“It’s okay,” Remus said. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

Sirius’ smile was a small, relieved one. “I guess so. Still. He was on some sort of mission. He still hasn’t told me anything, so.”

Remus leaned back from stowing his phone and keys securely in a hatch. “He doesn’t seem like the type of person you can really get things out of.”

“That’s true,” Sirius laughed, and it was easier this time. “Anyway, I’ll let you…I just wanted to say.”

Remus wanted to ask again, if Sirius would come with him, but Sirius was already backing away and so Remus just nodded.

“Thanks.”

He turned after he said it, breathing in the ocean air and trying to still himself, to let the familiarity of his boat and sails wash over him. He would find someone. Maybe they weren’t Sirius Black. Maybe they just weren’t here. Maybe he’d fall in love on the water, or in a classroom, or—

“Can I?” Remus heard Sirius say, and turned to look. Sirius had stopped half way down the dock.

Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Take you up on your offer?”

Remus smiled, even if his hope at Sirius’ words paired with the thought of Saint made his heart a little tender.

“Of course you can,” Remus said.

Sirius jogged towards him with a grin of his own, but he paused before he stepped onto the Wolfsbane, looking down. Remus wondered for a moment if it was the gap over the water, but Sirius had said he sailed, too, he’d said—

Remus understood. He unmoored the nose. “Get that rope back there if you finally want to do something other than watch.”

Sirius jumped to unknot the rope with ease, and then stepped onto the waves beside Remus, using one of his feet to push them away from the dock. Remus let them drift a moment, feeling for the wind. It was quiet for now, but he could see rougher waves out past the point.

“Is it just yours?” Sirius asked as he watched Remus with the tiller.

“Yep, birthday present,” Remus patted the side. “My baby.”

Sirius smiled. “It’s a beautiful boat.”

The wind began to pick up as they got farther from the land, pushing towards the open water. Remus’ heart seemed to pick up with it and, glancing at Sirius, who looked contemplative and—well, beautiful—Remus didn’t think it was merely the sea’s doing.

Remus had never thought too much about Sirius Black. Sirius had been there one day, gone the next, and in the run-ins at James’ house once Sirius had started working there, he had been a suddenly handsome face. Grown into himself and strong from his outdoor work. In turn, Remus always became suddenly awkward around the boy who obviously didn’t like Gods. He and James poked fun at each other, he and Luke were downright hostile, and Remus didn’t know where he fit in.

He hoped the water and the Wolfsbane would do some talking for him, and maybe some listening, too.

They didn’t speak as they began to fly. The pontoons skimmed the waves and the wind would have snatched their voices away, but Remus swore he heard Sirius laugh.

Sirius knew how to sail, too. He breathed it all in, just as Remus did, and they worked together, balancing and pulling and leaning out to trace their fingers along the water’s surface. It felt as warm as a bath against the cool air.

Remus didn’t let them go too far out, he had to be back, but he would have. He would have sailed right to the horizon with Sirius without looking back.

As the wind died down, as they turned around, Remus felt something different. Like a wind change between the two of them. They grinned at each other, flushed with it, and as the wind cut down more, as they past the point, Sirius’ turned self-conscious but it didn’t disappear like before.

The boat settled into a glide towards the shore. Remus let his feet dangle in the water.

“So, the treasure,” Remus asked, because Sirius looked hesitant to talk, sitting there soundly on the other side of the boat. “Do you think it’s real?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sirius replied, and Remus laughed. “But if Saint thinks it’s worth it…I’ll try to go along with it.”

Remus nodded, taking that in. Saint. The mention of him slowed his heart back to a glide along with the boat. Remus cleared his throat and Sirius looked back at him from the horizon questioningly.

“What was that thing with—Logan? I mean, you don’t have to tell me but…”

Sirius took a long breath. “Logan has someone, Finn, inside Saint Clair. Finn helped him escape. And I don’t know if it’s guilt that’s making him help to get Finn out, or something more, but…Saint's the one who can help.”

“Because he escaped.”

Sirius nodded. “Right.”

“Is it complicated?” Remus asked. “Like, is he worried he won’t be able to do it twice?”

Sirius shook his head. “It’s not complicated.”

He was silent for a moment, and Remus didn't want to push him. He waited, seeing if Sirius would continue.

“Saint walked right out the front door,” Sirius finally finished, and looked at Remus. “I think he’s worried because it wasn’t a grand escape, even if he tells it that way. Even if he makes it seem like he climbed walls or something. He’s worried because…because it was a fluke. Sometimes there are doors you can’t walk back through.”

Sirius said the last sentence heavily, as if he had a door of his own. Remus guessed that maybe everyone did.

“So, what’s he going to do for Finn and Logan?”

Sirius just shook his head again. “I have no idea. But I’ll help him in any way that I can.” Half a smile raised Sirius’ mouth. “If he lets me.”

“No.”

“Tell me,” Sirius demanded. Saint just rolled his eyes and popped a sweet potato fry into his mouth.

“Tell us,” Dorcas cut in from her place beside Marlene.

“Right,” Sirius said. “Sorry.”

“Saint,” Marlene sighed. “If you’re not going to tell us, it’ll make us think you have no plan at all.”

“Who invited the God?” Saint said airily.

“My girlfriend,” Dorcas scuffed the back of his head.

“Not for long she’s not,” Saint replied, and at Dorcas and Marlene’s expressions, waved a hand. “Come on. She’s going to college, Dor, you’re not…don’t tell me you haven’t talked about it.”

“We—” Dorcas began, but flushed and closed her mouth. Sirius glanced at Marlene, whose eyes were firmly down towards her burger.

“Stop trying to change the subject,” Sirius sighed.

“I’m not, I’m just telling everyone what to expect.”

“Saint,” Sirius leaned forward. “How are you going to get Finn out of Saint Clair? You said last time—”

Saint cut in quickly, “I say a lot of things to you that are just for you, Black.”

“Well, I don’t know what to do with what you said,” Sirius replied. “Come on. Please. Is it because you don’t know? Is that why you won’t say anything?”

Saint stayed quiet, looking down at his food. “I know. We’ll just have to see if it works.”

“Saint,” Dorcas leaned forward and Saint turned his palm up for her hand. He knew they were trying to help. “Babe, we just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You mean you want to make sure it’s not too insane.”

Sirius nodded. “That, too.”

“Can’t you just rest assured that I’m doing this for myself, too?” Saint said. “I’ll get Finn out, Logan will calm the fuck down, and maybe Luke will let us know about the treasure.”

“Who gives a fuck about this treasure?” Dorcas said harshly.

“It probably doesn’t even exist,” Sirius added.

“You want off this island, like you said? Then you give a fuck.”

Sirius began to shake his head. “It’s not—” he said, but Saint pushed on, voice raising.

“We’ll get Finn out, we’ll get Luke’s help, we’ll get the map, we’ll find my mom—”

Saint stopped talking, frozen by the words that had ripped out of him of their own accord.

Sirius, Dorcas, and Marlene’s eyes were wide. Pity. The word seemed to hang in the air.

“The treasure, I meant,” Saint managed. “We’ll find the treasure and…”

“Saint…” Dorcas said, and when he looked at her…Pity. “Do you know where she is?”

Saint was furious with himself for the slip. He was looking for Sirius. He wanted the treasure for Sirius, he didn’t need it for himself. He didn’t need anything, especially not people who left. Not his mom, not Sirius.

“I don’t need help with Saint Clair,” Saint said and pushed his chair back, leaving them staring at each other across the table.

Saint hadn’t let any of them come. He didn’t want anyone here to see him tremble and shake at doing the one thing he had always promised himself he would never do. The one thing he didn’t think he could do.

But, thinking about it, the trick wasn’t getting out. Anyone could walk out the door. The nuns needed it that way, for business. For the appearance of normalcy. The real trick was getting inside without being let in. The way to keep secrets, after all, wasn’t keeping everyone out. Walls begged to be breached. The secret was to filter the truth. Let people see half, a quarter, or different parts at different times. The trick was getting in to see the whole picture.

Maybe Saint was half of Saint Clair, keeping his cards close to his chest.

The offices. He needed to get the the offices, and then he needed to get to Finn. In and out—just not through the door this time.

“What’s the plan?” said a voice just behind him, and Saint closed his eyes.

Sirius.

“I told you not to come,” Saint said.

“And I told me yes,” Sirius parroted. They rolled their eyes at each other even as Sirius rested a gentle hand over Saint’s where it was clenched over his own knee. They crouched beside each other, staring at Saint Clair in the darkness. It was two in the morning, maybe a little past it now, and Saint wanted everyone to be asleep.

He looked towards the chimney. It was wide and old fashioned. It would be too hot for them to be using it tonight.

“Jesus Christ,” Sirius sighed, following his gaze.

“The windows are barred. The doors are alarmed. I’ve cleaned that thing, I know it’s big.”

“Yeah, everything looks big to a seven year old,” Sirius countered.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

“And getting out?” Sirius asked.

“Alarms don’t go off if you open the door from the inside. There’s a kitchen door around the back. We’ll use it. We just have to get in.”

Sirius nodded slowly, and then asked, “Your mom?”

Saint pressed his lips together. He needed to get to the office, and then to Finn, and then out.

He started forward towards the drain pipe, just like on Luke’s house, and didn’t look to see if Sirius was following him.

Marlene didn’t like seeing that contemplating look at Dorcas’ face. Dorcas was chewing on her lip, eyes staring at the movie playing on Marlene’s laptop, but she was somewhere else entirely. Marlene put her pencil down at wiggled her toes, which were in Dorcas’ lap. Dorcas blinked and looked at her.

“Don’t listen to Saint,” Marlene said. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

But even saying that ate at her. Marlene thought of the acceptance email, of California and Berkeley, buried in her inbox right now. Tell her, said everything inside, but Dorcas already had that look on her face. The worrying, I-want-everything-that’s-good-for-you-regardless-of-what-it-means-for-me-or-us look.

Marlene didn’t want to see that look. She’d seen it the first time her father had banned her from seeing a Salazar girl. They had been fifteen and Dorcas had offered to stop, and Marlene had kissed the idea right out of her mouth, right out of existence.

This was different. She couldn’t kiss college away. She didn’t want to. But she also wanted Dorcas, and California felt far, far away.

Dorcas chewed on her lip some more, then rubbed a soothing thumb over Marlene’s ankle. “We haven’t really talked about it, though.”

“I know,” Marlene said softly. She pushed herself up and set her sketchbook aside before reaching over to close the laptop, cutting the actor off in mid-sentence. “I guess I’m sort of…avoiding it.”

“We are, you mean,” Dorcas offered her a small smile. “I…I know we said we wanted to just have our summer, and I do want that. But I think I would feel better knowing what you think. About, you know…about when you do start hearing back.”

Marlene looked down as she whispered, “I got into Berkeley.”

A short sucked-out sound of silence filtered in between them for a moment. Marlene looked up.

“I should have said,” Marlene sighed. “I know I should have. I just…”

“Sweetheart,” Dorcas sighed, and then Marlene was pressed back onto the bed, Dorcas’ hard kisses bringing a hot blush to her cheeks. “That’s amazing.”

Marlene hummed against Dorcas’ mouth, a sad-happy sound, and wound her fingers into her hair as Dorcas kissed along her jaw. “It can be as amazing as it wants, but it’s really far away. And you like it here, and—”

“I like you,” Dorcas said, and pushed herself onto her forearms so she could look down at Marlene. “Marls, the question about us was never a debate about you following your dreams and going to college, just like you want. The question lies with me. I don’t know how to pull off following you yet, but I’m working on it.”

Marlene looked up at her and felt tears join the heat within, felt her voice wobble. “I’ll miss you. I want you to be safe, and I want you to be with me.”

Dorcas’ kiss was softer this time. “Me too.”

Marlene enjoyed it for a moment, relief bubbling in her chest, until Dorcas began laughing into her mouth.

“Maybe the boys will find that treasure and give me a piece of it.”

Marlene laughed, too. “God, if that’s our best option…”

They wound tighter together, snuggling down into Marlene’s quilt. Dorcas pressed her forehead against Marlene’s.

“Whatever I can do, I’ll do it,” Dorcas said. “I want you, wherever we are.”

Marlene just kissed her again.

Sirius was noisier on the climb than Saint would have liked, but they made it to the slanted roof without trouble, standing on its apex to stare down into the soot-dark.

“Is this really going to work?” Sirius whispered.

“It could.”

“Why not climb the fence? Maybe that door is open.”

“Too loud.”

“Why didn’t you let Logan come with us?”

Saint huffed out an annoyed breath. “Because if this goes wrong, what Finn did was for nothing. If this goes really wrong, at least there would still be one of us on the outside who knows what it looks like inside,” Saint stared out at the trees and bit of coast they could see by moonlight from here. “One of us who doesn’t return every night, that is.”

Saint went down the chimney first, one step at a time. The stones and rusted iron rungs provided easy enough footholds, they just had to hope no one was having a midnight cup of tea when they reached the bottom. He looked up once, blinking through the fine grit of ash that seemed to hang in the air, at Sirius’ face, the silver moonlight like a halo around his dark hair.

And Saint kept climbing down. He went slowly, listening hard. If someone was down there, they’d hear him, and then he’d hear them, and he could scramble back up the chimney and out of sight. Once he was down, however, who knew what they would do to keep him that way. He could practically taste the heavy sleep of Crucio, and his stomach rolled against the images it brought back. The many different families—fathers, siblings, and mothers. So many mothers that he didn’t even know which had been his own anymore.

He hated them for it. He hated them for thinking he wanted that.

Saint’s trembling foot slipped on the last hold and he tumbled out, only barely withholding a cry as the log holders scraped heavily across his side.

“Saint,” came Sirius’ harsh whisper from above him, and Saint waved a hand beneath the flue to show he was okay, then pushed himself up from the now ashy floor, gripping his side.

He knew this room too well. He knew it through the over-active eyes of a five year old. He knew it through the only slightly more alert gaze of his seven year old self.

It was smaller than he remembered. Shabbier than it had seemed then, with its hard couches and children’s books, its desk by the window that still held a letter opener that he had eyed a few times, wondering if he could fight his way out like heroes did in the books he read. Now, he willed all to stay quiet as he walked over and picked up the dull knife. He hated the sight of it.

Sirius came after him, more smartly, landing feet first.

“You could have fucking impaled yourself,” Sirius whispered.

“I didn’t, though,” Saint said, and looked at his ribs. The cuts stung, but the bleeding didn’t look too bad, just enough to dot uneven lines across his t-shirt.

Sirius lifted his shirt to see, and passed a careful thumb near the worst of them, his other a familiar weight on the side of Saint’s neck.

“Let’s go,” Saint whispered.

“Wait,” Sirius said, and turned Saint’s gaze gently to meet his own.

“We don’t have all the time in the world,” Saint began, but Sirius just shook his head, silencing him.

“Listen to me,” Sirius whispered. “All right? Just this once. Just listen to me.”

Saint closed his eyes briefly. “We don’t have time to talk.”

That only succeeded in bringing Sirius’ other hand to his cheek. “If something goes wrong, you just run.” Sirius reached down and took the knife, setting it back on the desk. “Don’t think about me. They can’t keep me.”

“They’ll give you to your parents,” Saint warned.

“I don’t care,” Sirius said. “They can’t keep me. They could try to keep you and I won’t let that happen.”

Saint looked up at Sirius. The only person he could ever remember caring. Saint didn’t like that a side effect of being cared about was caring back, didn’t like that risk…but he liked Sirius.

“You’re leaving anyway,” Saint said. “It doesn’t matter where I am.”

“I never said that and you’re wrong.”

“But you will say it.”

Saint turned away, keeping a hand laced with Sirius’ to pull him towards the dorms. He knew the words sounded accusing and regretful, but he only half meant them that way. Sirius deserved to go.

Sirius didn’t respond. It wasn’t the moment, and they needed to listen for other things.

The dorms came up on their left. Boys to one side of the hall, girls to the other. Saint paused, looking in.

You’ll sleep here with the rest of the boys, Sebastian. Be a good boy and make your bed every morning and you’ll get a treat with breakfast. Chocolate milk, how does that sound?

“Was this you?” Sirius whispered, and Saint shrugged.

“I slept all over this place,” Saint breathed to Sirius. “I’d sneak into the other dorms, the attic, the reading room. I was just…” Saint turned away, unable to stand the softly rising and falling chests of the boys within. “I was just trying to find a place where I felt like myself. Maybe it wasn’t the place, though.”

Maybe it was the dreams. Maybe the drug.

“Maybe it’s just me,” Saint said.

Grimmauld was the closest he had ever gotten, the most settled he’d ever felt. He loved the ocean, and his gold draped vanity, and Sirius always beside him. But there was still—something. A misplaced, tweaked something inside of him that was feeling around in the dark for a comfortable position. Saint didn’t even know what he was looking for, but he did know that it was too dark to find it right now. Sirius had been the first gleam of bright, a pin-prick of a star, a friend, a lover, and a safe place. But stars weren’t a moon or a sun. He needed light to see.

“Let’s go,” Saint said. “This way.”

They walked the halls carefully, listening after nearly every step. Saint knew that the nuns slept at the other end of the house, but that they woke to check in on the children. He couldn’t remember when, though. With the Crucio, his young age, and the late hour, the nights had felt the same and endless. He’d shuffled around like a small ghost, trying to escape the unfamiliar dream-faces. They’d only caught him a few times. A slap on the wrist. Solitary.

That’s why he nearly jumped when they heard the first footsteps. He was seven again, haunting this place and being haunted in return. Saint froze, eyes on the bend in the hallway.

“Here,” Sirius whispered, and together they ducked into a room—the offices, Saint realized—and behind the open wooden door. They huddled together, barely daring to breathe as the footsteps got closer.

“Sirius,” Saint breathed, and didn’t realize he was trembling again until Sirius’ arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Shh,” Sirius hushed him.

The footsteps passed right by them, towards the kitchen, Saint realized, and Sirius pressed Saint against him more tightly, no doubt feeling the dry pants that his breathing had turned into. They would be caught. They would be seen. Saint hid his face in Sirius’ neck.

Don’t be a waste of space, boy. Line up, after number six, come on.

He took up too much space here.

Try that again, Sebastian, and you know what happens.

Saint hated that name. He couldn’t remember who had given him that name. His mother? The nuns? What was a name if it was just a number, too? A way to keep track of him. A way to tell him what he was. Orphan boy. Five. Six. Seven. Abandoned. Good. Bad. Asleep. Awake.

Go to sleep now, there’s a good boy.

The hall was silent again and Saint felt Sirius’ embrace ease, felt his hand running soothingly along his spine.

“I’ve got you,” Sirius said the words so quietly they were barely words at all. “Let’s just go. Let’s get out of here.”

“Finn,” Saint rasped.

Saint looked up and saw the protest in Sirius’ eyes. It was wrong of Logan to make you come here.

“I told him to stay away,” Saint said softly. “I needed to come. I needed to come and get out again.”

Saint needed to get rid of some of this damned dark.

Saint pulled away from Sirius carefully and peaked around the door with a dry swallow before walking over to the cabinets. Records. They weren’t in alphabetical order, though. They were numbered.

Saint fingered his cross, looking towards 1-20.

He traced a finger over a key hole dejectedly, and tried the handle anyway. Locked.

“Saint,” Sirius breathed. “Your mom?”

Saint shook his head, clutching his necklace. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I didn’t know you wanted…”

“I don’t,” Saint snapped. “Let’s get Finn.”

The door to solitary was one that Saint knew well. It was a normal door, and the room beyond was a normal room. It was the memories that made it unbearable to see. Almost every kid Saint had known knew what it meant to be in that room. Alone, the wallpaper flowers withered, the bed turned cold, and the ever-changing family members flickered through your mind without anything to counter it. No reality. There was a glass window with the shade pulled. Saint hesitated for a long moment before lifting it up.

“Finn,” he breathed.

Finn’s red hair was fiery against the white bed spread. He was asleep, and Saint swore he could see Finn’s eyelids flicker from here.

Saint wrapped his fingers carefully around the door. The trick was getting in to see the whole picture.

Everything in Saint Clair felt locked from within. Everything in Saint did, too. It had taken years of wandering around at night for Saint to discover that he could open more doors than he had thought. He was still trying doors eight years alter.

The hinges didn’t so much as squeak, and Saint felt like a ghost again.

“Don’t let this close on me,” Saint whispered to Sirius. His voice shook and just one of his feet just barely breaching the threshold.

Sirius held the frame fast and shook his head, leaning forward to press a steady kiss to Saint’s forehead.

Saint crossed the small room in two slow steps and knelt beside the bed, the motion making the punctures on his torso ache. He pressed a hand to Finn’s cheek and stroked a gentle thumb across the freckles on his skin until Finn stirred.

“Bash,” Finn murmured, eyes barely open.

“Hi, Finn,” Saint said softly and gathered Finn into a sloppy sitting position. “Let’s get you out of here, huh? See if you’re worth all of this fucking trouble.”

“Crucio,” was Finn’s only half-spoken reply. “They make it.”

And then Finn went limp again in Saint’s arms.

All Logan could taste was sour guilt, despite the heaven Leo had placed on a plate in front of him not too long ago.

For Saint. For Leo. For the letter and even Luke. For the map. The treasure. The Carrows.

Finn.

His heart ached with the thought of seeing him. Of holding him.

“Why weren’t we allowed to go with him?” Logan asked Leo for what he knew was the tenth time, but he couldn’t help it. “I asked him to help me, not go for me.”

“It’s easier to get one person in and out than two?” Leo said. He was puttering around the small kitchen, had been for the last hour, and the entire house smelled like sugar and cinnamon now, replacing the herbs, lemon, and chicken. He didn’t look at Logan when he said it.

He hadn’t looked at Logan much at all since the night at the museum.

Logan watched him taste a bit of what looked like frosting and wet his lips.

“Are you mad at me?” Logan whispered.

Leo’s restless hands paused. Logan watched his chest rise and fall once.

“I’m not mad,” Leo said finally. The heat of the oven had fluffed out his hair. “I mean, I’m not sure if we reached a dead-end or not…and you could have told me you were going to do that. I said I would help you, didn’t I?”

“I needed Ba—Saint,” Logan replied. “But I also…I should have told you. And I shouldn’t have made Saint go. I just want…he’s my family. Finn is my…”

“I understand why you did it,” Leo cut in softly. “I probably would have done worse if I thought that there was something that could save my dad.”

That just made Logan feel even smaller, sitting at the table. Leo glanced at him, gave him a tight smile, then went to the sink and began scrubbing dishes.

“Hey,” Logan said, then rose and strode over to Leo. “Hey, let me clean up.”

“I just need something to do,” Leo said shortly.

“Me, too.”

They stood, their shoulders pressed together. Logan washed. Leo dried. He slipped cinnamon rolls into the oven and then returned. They kept close to each other at the sink and it felt…so normal. Like a home. Leo felt like a home.

“I never really thanked you properly,” Logan said into the now more comfortable silence. “For letting me stay with you. And—I just want to say, and now with Finn…I understand if you want us to leave. I mean, three’s a crowd.”

“You’re welcome here,” Leo said quickly. Logan watched his throat bob. He was looking away again. “You should do what feels best for you, but you’re both welcome here. Just—”

Leo paused, and Logan found himself suddenly desperate to hear what he had to say. He knew he hadn’t been friendly all the time. He knew he’d been selfish. Leo had been nothing but kind. He was funny and warm, teaching Logan how to weld two pieces of metal, talking about the latest book he was reading while he whisked batter and handed Logan different new recipes he was trying out.

Finn would like Leo, Logan thought, and glanced towards the door. Maybe he was about to find out.

“Never mind,” Leo said, and flashed a smile.

Logan went to protest, but then his phone began buzzing madly on the table and he all but lunged for it.

Luke stared down at his father’s handwriting.

Luke, it began. And then there was a name.

Pascal Dumais.

There was no mention of himself. There was nothing. Luke had thought this would make him feel better, make it easier. Only, now, he was frustrated to the point of tears. He couldn’t seem to ease the lump that was lodged in his throat. He clutched the paper in his fingers hard enough to tear, willing something else to appear on it. He thought of Felix.

“Well?” said a voice from his window.

“Oh—” Luke flinched, surprised, then cursed at Saint, who was stretched out on his window sill. “Come on. Are you kidding me?”

Saint’s mouth twitched up in a smile, but it was strained. He was sitting awkwardly, tense rather than his usual languid posture.

“What’s wrong with you?” Luke asked hesitantly, trying to discreetly wipe at his face.

“What isn’t?”

Luke spotted the blood between Saint’s fingers and rose. “You’re hurt.”

“I fell down a chimney.”

“Is that a joke?”

“No.”

Luke blinked. “That’s how you got into Saint Clair? And you climbed to my window?”

Saint pulled himself all the way through the window with a soft groan and Luke walked forward, hands hovering near Saint’s shoulders, unsure if he should help.

“The orphan?” he asked instead, then at Saint’s sharp look, “Finn?”

“Sirius is bringing him to Grimmauld.”

“What’s Grimmauld?”

Saint sat down heavily in Luke’s desk chair, hand still pressed to his side. He had what looked like soot on his hands and face. “A place.” He picked up a book. Jane Eyre. “Didn’t take you for a romantic.”

“You’re bleeding all over my room.”

“Lucky you.”

Luke tucked the note into the pocket of his shorts. “Fuck—come here. Jesus.”

He walked into his bathroom and jammed the light switch up, looking back when Saint didn’t follow him. “Come here.”

Saint rose, still holding the book. “I am coming!” Saint quoted, head tilted in a way that made his neck look long. “Wait for me! Oh, I will come!”

“Very funny,” Luke sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a reader.”

“Why?” Saint said as he stepped out of the darkness of the bedroom and into the yellow-lighted bathroom. His brown eyes took on the soft yellow, too, and he leaned forward as he pushed himself up onto the counter carefully. “Because I don’t buy my books and,” Saint looked down at the book, flipping through it. “Write all over them like you do?”

“Because you didn’t go to school,” Luke said with a raised eyebrow as he ducked for the first aid kit beneath his sink. It was good to have one near during the lacrosse season—or it used to be.

Saint rolled his eyes. “You Gods and your single paths in life. You’re all stupid.”

“Then why are you here?” Luke asked as he unlatched the kit.

“Because this is the last place anyone would look for me,” Saint replied. “And you’re mean.”

“Mean? Are we in seventh grade?” Luke scoffed as he wet a towel in the sink. “I don’t know if it’s healthy to want to be around people who you think are mean to you."

“I just don’t want to talk about it,” Saint said. “And that’s all Sirius will want to do. And I don’t want to. And we don’t have this shit at Grimmauld.”

“Is that where you live?”

Saint just set the book down and reached behind himself to tug his shirt over his head. Luke tried not to stare at Saint’s smooth, light brown skin. He swallowed, busying himself with the bandages and the wet towel again.

“For all the breaking into places you do, maybe you should invest in some band-aids,” Luke said, and glanced down at the finely woven muscle on Saint’s ribs, at the red edges of the slashes. “If you flinch too much, you’re doing this yourself.”

Saint smiled. “Mean.”

“Fuck off,” Luke said, out of reflex, and then pressed his lips together. Saint laughed and then hissed as Luke pressed the towel to the cut.

They were close like this, Luke leaned in to dab the blood away, and then dot it with disinfectant, all while Saint’s muscles jumped beneath the palm he had steadied low on his belly. He could feel Saint watching him, and remembered waking up to those eyes. Saint’s hand in his hair.

“How did you do it?” Luke said into the small space between them. “Get in and out.”

“The chimney.”

So, he was serious.

“What did the letter say?” Saint asked.

Luke glanced up at him warily, but wiped a hand on his shorts before fishing the letter out of his pocket and handing it over. “Do you know who that is?”

Saint read it quietly, and then met Luke’s eyes. Luke was stuck there, pinned like a tack in a map, marking the place to be.

“Yes,” Saint said, and smiled brightly. “I know exactly who this is.”

#relic keel lumosinlove #Harry Potter fic #lumosinlove ocs #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #dorlene #jily #saint #Luke deveaux #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #finn o'hara #o'knutzy #wolfstar

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captastra · 2 years

Note

how did junlei and felix meet? (be as specific as you like)

the game established a sort of older sister-younger brother dynamic, so i wonder how it happened…

The game actually does touch on this a little in a conversation between Felix and Parvati (x).

Going a little further though and taking in the ages I assume both characters are, Felix being 24 and Junlei early 30s, there probably wasn't any time they crossed paths for longer than a few minutes.

From Felix's perspective, he probably viewed her like everyone else did: the Captain. As Captain of the Groundbreaker, he is right in her being the busiest woman because she had to deal with taking care of a ship that was starting to break down from wear and tear and having no time really to interact with everyone that lives on the groundbreaker. Not someone that would ever give him the time of day.

Unless they were causing trouble, which we know Felix is prone to do.

If you bring him to meet with Junlei (watch here), she actually does know him by name and congratulates him for no longer working in the back bays and being in a captain's custody. She also tells him to not steal any critical parts which Felix admitted to the captain he did and swears he only did it that one time (which can lead into a completely other conversation I won't start here lol).

This to me shows that they probably had at least one conversation after this incident and that Junlei probably knows majority of the people that live on her ship. Also, because Felix is prone to causing problems, she has probably heard his name spoken much more than he could have imagined.

For their first interaction then, I would assume it went like this. Junlei is told that some kid named Felix (who she has already heard about by this point) had tried to steal an important piece from the ship and had been in the jail cell for the night. Going down to the guards station, she’d probably have a very short but stern conversation with him about not stealing from her ship eitehrwise she will throw him out the airlock. Felix has enough sense to know that he’d better keep his mouth shut except to agree to never do it again. Groundbreaker is still his home and the last thing he’d want is to lose that too.

Felix continues to be a trouble maker because this is Felix we’re talking about, but he knows not to go too far to get the attention of Junlei again.

Their relationship to me is that of a Captain and someone from the extremely lower decks, but with Junlei being the person she is, she still is aware of those who live there.

#the outer worlds #felix millstone #junlei tennyson #my headcanon #answered #thank you for asking <3

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jasmine-the-fox · 4 years

Text

I did the work... You guys were lazy

For this salt fic, I want you all to see what happens to the class for believing Lila and her lies and leaving behind Marinette... Also Damienette ship!!

For years Marinette didn’t think about her old class... Caline Bustier’s class was gone like the wind to her when she left Paris to go to Gotham for college, there were times when Alya and some of them will text her old number about demands of baked goods, dresses or new date Adrien plans... She would ignore them and at one point got rid of her phone as she was done with them, the only people she spoke to was Chloe who never believed Lila and even worked hard to be forgiven by Mari, Sabrina did so much research on Lila with Max that they too were forgiven with time, then was Alix who was visited by a furious Bunnix who showed Alix her future if she follows Lila.

Nathaniel was also someone who believe Mari, from the start he thought Lila was strange and one day with Marc spoke to Mari and has been loyal to her... Lastly was Kitty section, Luka was furious with them for listening to Lila about music and warned them about him quitting if they keep this up, after a while they heard Mari crying to Luka about what Lila did to her and they ended up leaving Lila, outside the class was of course Luka and Marc, Kagami, Aurore, Mireille, Ondine and Felix who is Adrien’s cousin, he was furious when Chloe told him about Adrien’s take the higher road line he told Mari.

Each of her friends did sadly go to different places and she only had Chloe with her in Gotham but that was fine with her, she still texted and did video calls with them so that was fine to her... And then she met Damian Wayne, the boy was cold and rarely spoke to anyone unless for a project he had to do in a team, slowly she began talking to him outside of class and that made him at some point want to speak with her about anything at all that wasn’t even related to school, with time Chloe helped her with there friends to change Marinette’s style, she went from pigtails to her hair down or in a braid, from white pink and gray to black and other kinds of colors.

She also began to wear make-up and she opened up a website for her designs, a blog so people can see tips and tricks on how to do things with clothes or how to fix something, she also took down all her previous accounts she had with the class following her and opened new accounts for her real friends to be seen with her, Damian would glare when his brother’s would talk about a new post on her social media or on her blog while his father often commissions her for clothes, this caused for her to become famous in Gotham and Clark interview her... Making her also famous in Metropolis.

And while she was becoming famous while still in school... Her class was losing there dreams, Alya was the first one to go through this, Nadja Chamack got to interview Lois Lane who ripped into the Ladyblog by pointing out posts she made that were lies and the consequences that would have happened if certain people saw them... Leading to her blog being taken down, she with Lila got sued and Lila was exposed as the liar she was including the bonus of Lila being deported back to Italy to live with her grand-parents who were sending her to a private school.

Slowly everyone including Adrien were targeted, Adrien being found out as Lila revealed that he and Marinette were the only ones who knew she was lying from the start... He was homeschooled once again but was able to go to college, he picked one his friends were going to with the grades they had but they all glared at him... But none of them thought to apologize to Mari for bullying her and claiming her to be a liar... Not until there bank accounts were frozen because there parents received from Tom and Sabine bills for each of there kids for baked goods, clothes, babysitting that Alya and Nino put on her at the last minute for a date and anything else that they never paid back.

That’s when they remembered Marinette, they all began trying to call and text her... But her number wasn’t available anymore as it wasn’t use so they couldn’t talk to her, Alya thought she was being petty while Adrien thought Mari was being selfish, with time they got back to work on what they wanted... And then they saw Mari on the news in Metropolis as an up coming designer, Gabriel Agreste saw a solution to the problem Lila brought to his work and told Adrien to try and talk to her and see if she would date him... Except Adrien didn’t have her current number.

It took some time but Gabriel ended up being invited to a Wayne Gala, he took his son and instructed him to try and get Marinette’s new number to try and then date her, Adrien was certain it would all go well and he would get her new number... Then everyone will be able to contact her and things will go back to normal for them, when they got there, Adrien began looking for Mari but saw Chloe with Damian Wayne and some girl with short hair, he decided to ignore them for now and focus on searching for Mari but couldn’t find her at all.

“Adrien? I’m surprised that your here since your father always comes alone” he turned to find Chloe and the girl from earlier, Damian wasn’t with them now and was instead talking to some guests “Hey there Chlo, my dad heard about Mari on the news and wanted to meet her and so I was just trying to find her for him” he explained as the girl looked annoyed at him while Chloe looked disappointed “Mari has been next to me from the start... You should have come over the moment you got here” she said as Adrien looked shocked at Marinette, her hair was now chin length, her dress was a beautiful red dress with a beautiful dragon design.

Chloe had to then walk away to speak with a guest, leaving the two alone, Adrien began trying to start a conversation but Mari simply went with short and simple answers... No going into detail of things, this was not the Marinette Dupain-Cheng he knew so he had to do something, he then began asking her if she could show him around Gotham while he was here, if she would like to have lunch with him at some point and even if she would like to dance with him... She said straight up no and didn’t give him a reason as to why, still wanting her number to begin contacting her, he decided to wait until she was drinking wine before snatching her phone from her purse and adding her number to his phone and sending it to the class before putting it back into her purse.

He just had to tell her she gave it to him while she was a little drunk, it would be just fine in the end and nothing would go wrong... He was wrong, the next day, police came to arrest him for stealing her phone and sending her number to others who contacted her the whole night... He tried to defend himself but security camera’s caught him stealing her phone and slipping it back, he was being sued and a restraining order was on him to stay away from her while she once again changed her number and ended up telling her clients about it... Gabriel was disappointed in his son for he had to go meet with her to try and fix everything... While trying to get her to agree to going on a date with his son.

She was already dating Damian though.

He found out when he saw them together, Damian had called her Angel and they kissed before he left, she refused to go on a date with his son or to remove the restraining order on his son... But Gabriel won’t give up “Make one of them hate the other, anything will do but make one of them dump the other!” he ordered his son who nodded to the demand, since Adrien couldn’t get close to Mari... He had to aim for Damian, he decided to us a few pictures he took of her in the past to make Damian think she has been dragging around a bunch of guys and girls, he didn’t care that Nino and Kim knew from childhood, he also didn’t care that Chloe and Kagami were in a relationship with one another, he didn’t care about Luka and Felix’ pride.

He was going to win this no matter what... He will make his father proud of him.

He was sent back to Paris to be put in jail there three days later, he really didn’t know what went wrong, all he did was show Damian the pictures and told him a few lies about her... And next thing he knew police was at his hotel room door and took him away to get to the airport to get to Paris, what he didn’t know was that Damian had seen those very pictures on Mari’s old friends and current friends social medias, so he knew he was lying from the start and called the police about it, Gabriel tried to stop them but he too was sent back to Paris for Nathalie had given the police a recording of Gabriel telling Adrien to try and get Mari’s number and have her date him.

Because of this both of there miraculous were taken, since Ladybug was now part of Batman’s team and had warned the police about the Agreste father and son having one each, Nathalie of course gave up her’s with the info and then returned early to Paris to take care of things there... And get Lila into even more trouble as she did work with Hawkmoth all this time, even so it wasn’t over, after a while in prison Adrien was released but not his father, after that Adrien saw his friends and fixed everything with them since he did get Mari’s number for them... If only for a while, so they forgave him, Adrien ended up getting the whole Agreste fortune and he then sold the mansion and the fashion company to live in an apartment.

His friends all worked hard to save up money to have a class reunion, with time everything was planned out and they got the whole class notified about it so they know when it happens and where to go at what time, they were so happy to have it happen as they couldn’t wait to see everyone, when the day came they were shocked at the friends they thought were evil...

Max and Sabrina ended up getting married, it was big and hard to get into a news reporter was able to find out from Sabrina that her dress was made by Marinette herself, Kitty section ended up breaking up, Juleka was now a model for Mari while Rose became a writer, Mylène was now a famous actress and happily married to Ivan who was now a famous song writer, Chloe and Kagami also got married, Chloe was Marinette’s assistant while Kagami opened up a Tsurugi fencing school in Gotham, Luka was now following Jagged Stone and becoming a famous singer and guitar player, Nathaniel become her website artist, helping her redesign her site page depending on new themes and seasons while Felix was Marinette’s image manager.

They were all there, even Lila... But Marinette was nowhere in sight, they all tried getting answers but the gang had ignored them, Aurore, Ondine, Mireille and Marc found it funny that they would try to get answers on Mari after all this time they had bullied her, Marinette then walked in arm in arm with Damian Wayne, they looked amazing in there outfits, just like all of her friends as they too were wearing her designs, the two walked around to greet her friends and see how they were doing since the last time they had spoken together, Alya and the gang tried to talk to her but all she did was ignore them... Lila on the other hand glared at Mari.

Everything Marinette was doing and getting... Should have been her, Lila should have been the one to meet Damian Wayne, she should be the one dating him, SHE should be the one becoming famous! But no! She was found out as being dangerous, working with a villain like Hawkmoth destroyed everything she could hope for... Now she worked part-time at some little restaurant in Italy being barely paid much with the hopes of meeting some rich guy to sweep her off her feet, she looked at times towards Adrien, he may no longer be a model for his father’s designs but he was now modeling for an agency who knew of what he liked, disliked and wanted to work in.

Even so she was disappointed when she saw how Adrien was focused on Mari, he still wanted to be with her, he began walking towards “Agreste! You know that the restraining order is still on you! Take one more step towards Mari and I will call the cops!” Chloe shouted making the other’s of the class look at her in shock, Restraining order? On Adrien? To not get close of sweet innocent Marinette? Chloe must be lying, so of course Alya snapped back with Nino on her side on how Adrien has a right to greet Mari, they claim he’s allowed to go see her and insist he does, Kim pushes him forward towards Mari while Sabrina calls her dad to inform him about Adrien breaking the restraining order.

He got there in just a few minutes...

“Mister Agreste due to the fact that you broke the restraining order miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng placed on you after you stole her phone during a Wayne gala and then sent her number to an unknown number of people you will be coming with me to the station” Roger said as he cuffed Adrien and forced him to follow to his police car, Alya, Nino, Kim and Lila were in a massive shock at this... So Chloe was right, Marinette did put a restraining order on Adrien... Because they wanted her number to talk to her again since she changed it after all this time, and now here she was, changed and not allowing them to talk to her and to apologize for what they did.

The whole event ended and by morning everyone was on a plane to get back to where they live or are to be staying for work, about a week later Alya found out in the paper that Marinette was going to become a Wayne soon, she so badly wanted to report about in order to help her make it big so she with Nino got to the airport and paid for plane tickets to Gotham to speak with her, they found where she worked and begged to see her “Alya? Nino? Can I ask why your here in Gotham?” they turned to find Mari with Damian, they were just about to leave for lunch when she saw them “Mari! Gurl you NEED to let me report about your wedding! This could give me a huge break and get to become a reporter again!” Alya claimed as Mari glared at her.

“What do you mean by again? Alya all this time, you were not a reporter... You were the owner of a tabloid that posted every single lie Lila spoke to you, and as for this big break of yours it was destroyed the second Lois spoke about the Ladyblog, try anywhere and they will reject you because Lois is the one who reveals who is a good reporter... And those who are like you... Trash under our feet” Mari hissed and began walking with her fiancé too the door until she turned to the front desk “Alissa, please get these two on the blacklist and kick them out, I don’t want to see this trash by the street when I get back” she said and walked out like this wasn’t anything new for her to say.

Marinette worked hard to get to where she was... With the help of her friends and Damian... But her three remaining classmates all believed that Lila would help them skip up to the lifestyle she has now... But everyone knows you need to put the effort into things to get there.

#miraculous ladybug #salt fic #alya salt #lila salt #adrien salt #damienette #lila gets exposed #adrienette #damian wayne #batman

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sunshinee0-0 · 4 years

Text

Warnings ⚠: a little bit suggestive, like a tiny bit & one curse word

Requested: nope

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 521

Author note!!: This took longer then expected but it's okay! Hopefully it doesn't sound like i'm promoting crossy road TT Thank you @es-kay-zee for helping me! Enjoy

20 minutes you've been engrossed on something on your phone, how dare something that's not him take up all your time and attention, when he was sitting right there.

scooching over, he wraps his arms around your waste. He attempts to put his head on your chest but you whine in protest. "Jinnie move! Your head is in my way!" You complain trying not to get hit by the moving cars.

"Why are you denying my cuddles?" He pouts looking at your face. Today was supposed to be his day, but instead that stupid devis is taking it. How can something so small take up all your attention?

"I'm not denying your cuddles, i'm just doing something right now" you protest, trying to convince him but not taking your eyes off of the screen. "Wish i was something..." He mumbles.

"Huh jinnie?" You questioned tilting your head to the side, not taking your eyes off of the screen. A blush spread to Hyunjin's cheeks to the tip of his ears, a part of him was happy that you were so focused. "Nothing! I said nothing." He squeaked, "Okay jinnie whatever you say." You giggle at the panic in his voice.

Your giggling dies down as your now entirely focused on the game. "Y'know ignoring me and my cuddles should be a crime," hyunjin nagged, "You should be in jail!" He chuckles lightly hearing how dramatic he sounds

" Your such a drama queen jinnie!" You huff, "i'm just trying to beat Felix's high score!" Oh so Felix started this? Hyunjin made a mental note to scold him later for starting this. "Y/nnnn!" He drags out the last syllable of your name, you hum in acknowledgement. "Pay attention to me!", "Jinnie! I promise I will, after I beat his high score." He whines at your responses

"Baby please!" You blush at the nickname looking at your current score "256" the numbers taunt you, you were so close but so far away from beating him. A little bit of you thinks "fuck it." And turning off the phone.

The other piece of you is thinking "If i break his stupid high score, he cant brag anymore but y-" "Angel!" Hyunjins god like voice pulls you out of your head. You could see your character near the end of the screen, tapping at the screen quickly, you manage to not get hit by any cars.

"Please baby" hyunjin whispers in your ear, causing goose bumps all around your body. Your about two seconds from throwing your phone and jumping in his arms. Looking at your screen, you see that stupid bird take your character away. "Oh well" you thought.

"C'mere Hyunjinne" his eyes light up as he cuddles up to you, i mean he already has his arms around you but i guess he wants more, it's not like you would complain tho, he was warm and snuggly. "Thank you." You hum to him as to say "your welcome", closing your eyes as you hear the faint sound of the TV.

"I love you Y/n." He whispers into your neck.

"I love you too jinnie."

Taglist: @es-kay-zee @han-min @bugsbinnie @bratforbin @crispbang

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #wari write >°<#here you go!#hwang hyunjin #skz hyunjin #straykids

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wherevermyway · 4 years

Text

why can’t we drink forever? (1/2) // minsung // 18+

one: i will only complicate you series navigation: [desktop] [mobile]

⚠ POTENTIAL TW: READ WITH CAUTION! ⚠ pairing: lee minho x han jisung rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: creator chose not to use archive warnings, explicit sexual content past character death, alcohol abuse/alcoholism, depression, edgy cynical depressed jisung, ambiguous/open ending. word count: 5,883 also on AO3

originally posted: 20 january 2021

After being arrested for driving under the influence, Jisung learns that money can buy his way out of jail time, but it can’t buy his way out of his feelings.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

“I don’t know how things got this way, Sungie, baby. I’m worried about you.”

A sarcastic huff leaves the lips of the young man seated in the passenger seat of a sleek, new all-white Audi. He kicks his feet up on the dash, earning a frown from the middle-aged woman driving the vehicle. The young blonde stares out the window as he fumbles around his hoodie pocket. Out comes a white pack of Marlboro Gold cigarettes and an engraved silver lighter.

“You and me both, ma,” he tuts as he pops a white cigarette up from the pack into his mouth, flicking the dial of his lighter as he takes in a deep breath. He jams a finger down on the window button, the crisp winter air blowing the grey cloud around, the acrid scent of burnt tobacco filling the car. “Guess if we knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be in the car now, huh?”

“Maybe you’d have gotten into a better university,” his mother sighs as she shakes her head.

A devious smirk curls up on the young man’s mouth as he brings the cigarette up to his lips again, taking a long drag. He knows better than to verbally respond with a cynical quip.

Maybe I’d be fuckin’ dead.

Alcoholics Anonymous sounded like a cult following: a twelve-step programme where all of its members had to follow a strict code, be mentored by a sponsor, and thank some bullshit deity to be given a new chance every day. “Every day is a new chance,” the cult leader would say at the beginning of every meeting. “May God grant us the serenity…”

“I’m Jisung, and the courts told me I’m an alcoholic, so I guess I’m an alcoholic,” the artificial blonde shrugged his shoulders, the ghost of burnt coffee still dancing on his tongue as he spoke.

The mindless cult drones spouted off a casual “hi, Jisung,” in monotonous, unenthusiastic unity as the young man sat down.

“How did you get here?” The meeting’s leader was relentless in prodding the young man. “You’re not obligated to tell us, of course,” which was a boldfaced lie, “but acknowledging your problems might help your recovery.”

Jisung brought the styrofoam cup full of lukewarm, acrid coffee to his lips and took a long sip. He winced at the taste and pursed his lips as he made eye contact with the leader. “I was abducted by aliens, man, now I’m here. Shit was crazy.”

The leader frowned, ready to interrupt Jisung.

“Nah,” the young man kicked his feet out from under the metal fold-up chair, flipping his hood over his head with his free hand. “I got drunk, went out to get more booze, then hit a tree on the way back and the cops pulled me over since my headlight was out. The internet wasn’t lying when they said all cops are fuckin’ bastards.” His quip earned a laugh from a few younger members, whereas several of the older people shook their heads in frustration.

“Please,” the leader sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “let’s refrain from political commentary. Thank you for your,” there’s a pause as the leader clears his throat, “for your candor, Jisung. Now that we’ve introduced all of our new attendees, why don’t we move along with the next step in the meeting?”

The meeting was pointless, all of the same shit that Jisung had read about in the fliers that were handed to him with his sentencing. He had to endure twelve months of this, but it wasn’t like he was doing much else with his life, anyways. Jisung poured the last of the disgusting coffee from the cardboard takeaway box into his cup, then tossed the box into the large rubbish bin at the end of the table. One last cup of free shitty coffee before he left; it would pair nicely with the cigarette he so desperately craved.

“Hey!” A bright voice came up behind him and Jisung rolled his eyes at the way optimism dripped from the trill. He slowly turned around, taking a sip of the cold coffee in his cup. A young man with neon pink hair, probably the same age as Jisung, smiled widely as he stuck his hand out. “I’m Felix, nice to see someone here that’s about my age.”

Jisung gingerly accepted the hand and shook it twice before quickly sticking his hand back into his pocket. “Charmed. How long are you stuck here for?”

“Oh!” Felix shook his head, smile still wide on his face as he pensively looked down to his shoes. “I’m not here for… well, I’m a psychology major.”

Of course he was.

Felix tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and tapped his foot twice as he continued to smile at Jisung. “I’m also new here and was hoping I could make friends.”

Jisung shook his head, reaching into his hoodie pocket for his pack of cigarettes and familiar silver lighter. “I’m not a good influence. Don’t think I’d make good friends with someone so… nice.” He meandered a white cigarette out of the packet with a single hand, then tucked it behind his ear, lighter still tucked into his palm. “No offence, dude.”

The smile finally fell from the pink-haired man, who quickly pulled his hands from his pockets, “wait, wait!”

Jisung cocked an eyebrow at the man, biting his tongue as he felt the clawing at the back of his head, his synapses screaming a plea for him to get a hit of more nicotine.

“I don’t wanna sound desperate,” Felix ran his bottom lip under his teeth as he looked around nervously, “I just really wanna talk with someone that’s so different than me. I’ll even buy you dinner or something from the diner down the street.”

As insulting as the words ‘so different than me’ came off to Jisung, desperation was a bad look for anyone. “You got a car?” Felix nodded twice, biting his lip as he stared at Jisung. “Lead the way, psycho student Felix.”

Felix’s eyes went wide and his bright smile came back, beaming brighter than before. “It’s psychology, not psycho.”

The blonde rolled his eyes as he plucked the cigarette from behind his ear and tucked it in between his teeth. “I know what I said.”

The food at the diner was mediocre at best: rubbery scrambled eggs and burgers made from frozen patties that were likely a concoction of rejected organ meat slurry and textured vegetable protein. It was cheap, but it was always good. Rich in comfort, lacking in quality: the antithesis to Jisung’s life.

Jisung hadn’t been here in two years, not since his friend turned on-again, off-again boyfriend Changbin left for university, halfway across the country. This was the place they’d come to at three in the morning after hitting up a house party, where they would drunkenly curl up with each other and swap kisses that tasted like stale beer and watery coffee.

This was the place where Changbin broke up with Jisung for the final time, Changbin citing that they wouldn’t be able to stay in contact much anymore. However, he hadn’t told Jisung that he was sleeping with someone that graduated a couple years prior and was conveniently attending the same university as him.

That night tasted like vodka and strawberry soda, the latter of which Jisung never let grace his tastebuds again.

The blonde scowled down at his orange juice, watching the ring light above their table shimmer and ripple in the liquid. He hadn’t heard from Changbin in two years, and he was as bitter about it as the black, burnt edges of the hashbrowns that stuck to his plate.

“You okay?” Felix poked his fries with a fork, bringing one to his lips as he scanned Jisung’s expression.

“Are any of us okay, psycho student?”

Felix furrowed his brows and set his fork down against his plate, chewing on the crinkled french fry a bit before he swallowed. He folded his hands together and rested his chin against the interlaced fingers. “No, like,” he shrugged, eyes shifting around a bit, “I mean it. You seem kinda distant.”

Jisung rolled his eyes up to meet Felix’s and he cocked his eyebrow. He was starting to regret tagging along with this kid he barely knew, feeling like this was less of a potential friendship and more like a therapy session. “You don’t know me, man.”

“No, but I know people.”

“You’re a sophomore psychology student, dude. You don’t know shit.”

The pink-haired man sighed, back thudding against the plasticky booth. “I guess you’re right about that. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to know, though.”

“Your funeral, then.” Jisung followed suit, leaning up against the booth with a bit more tact, swinging his arm around the wood frame. “I had my first sip of alcohol when I was thirteen. Got bored when my parents fucked off to Italy on some shitty trip without me.”

Felix tilted his head up like a dog, suddenly alive with renewed interest.

“They’re only parents in blood and title.” Jisung looked down at the table, scratching inanely at a chip in the pale green linoleum. “I was raised by nannies and tutors until I was fifteen. Most parents would probably panic when they leave the house, coming back to an empty liquor cabinet. My parents? Nah, they just restocked it and told me not to drink too much at once.”

“That’s,” Felix’s voice trailed off as he looked away, milling over the new information.

“It’s fucked,” Jisung finished the sentence, then brought the plastic cup of orange juice to his mouth and took a long sip. He set the cup back down and pulled up the sleeve covering his left arm, presenting the flesh over the table. Felix visibly recoiled as he eyed dozens of scarred lines littered across the skin, some marks still relatively fresh. “Their response to this? ‘We’ll get you into therapy and you won’t do this again.’ It was always the best money could buy, but their money didn’t do shit to my brain.” He shuffled the cloth over his arm again, ignoring the look of pity Felix offered him.

“If money could buy them a better son, they would’ve traded me out, like upgrading a car on a lease.”

Felix stumbled over his words a bit as Jisung rifled through his pockets, pulling out his phone and his wallet. “You still wanna make friends with someone like me?”

It took a moment, but Felix tentatively nodded his head. “Doesn’t sound like you have many friends to begin with,” he nervously sputtered out.

Jisung cocked his head to the side and licked his teeth as he smiled. “I don’t do friends. But life’s full of surprises. Anyway, gimme your phone so we can swap contact info.”

They exchanged phone numbers and Jisung dropped a couple of bills on the table. “Don’t worry about it,” he said as soon as Felix opened his mouth to protest, “you’re a university student and I’ve got my shitty parents’ cash to burn.”

“I’ll see you next week?” Felix questioned as Jisung stepped out of his shoddy 2003 Toyota Camry.

Jisung nodded once, tipping his index and middle fingers off of his forehead. “You got it. Thanks for the ride, mate.” He slammed the door with a fake smile that faded as soon as he turned around. Sure, Felix was the antithesis of everything Jisung was, but he could prove to be a source of entertainment over the next year.

Despite being cynical and vehemently anti-religion, Jisung always said a quiet prayer to himself as he opened the door, hoping his parents weren’t home when he arrived. Today, it seemed like luck was on his side: his mother’s keys weren’t on the key rack, and his father had yet to return from some bullshit ‘business trip’ off in China. Perhaps it was Morocco or Norway; they all blurred together in a haze of indifference. All Jisung was sure of was the fact that his father had probably taken one of his mistresses away to some foreign country he was pretending to secure a business deal in.

“Everyone’s favourite fuck-up is home!” Jisung shouted in the empty vestibule, his voice echoing against the cold walls. He didn’t expect a response, so when he was greeted with a comfortable silence, he smiled to himself. He kicked his shoes off and unceremoniously tossed them into the corner by the key rack.

His heavy, heel-first footsteps echoed as he made his way towards the kitchen, pulling a bottle of wine out of a glass display cooler as he padded towards the main refrigerator. He pulled out a box of takeaway Indian curry from the night prior, setting both the box and the bottle on the marble kitchen island, shuffling his feet towards a drawer. He retrieved a fork and a wine key, tossing them onto the countertop as he pulled out his phone, pack of cigarettes, and his lighter.

Jisung opened the bottle of wine as he sat down on a stool next to the counter, tossing the cork towards the rubbish bin, shrugging as he missed. That was a problem for later, and he didn’t feel like dealing with it now. Completely ignoring the takeaway carton, Jisung grabbed the wine bottle, then took a long guzzle directly from it. He winced a bit as the flavour of fermented floral grapes perfumed his mouth with a sharp, sickly rotten scent. The bottle clattered loudly against the marble, the echoing reminding Jisung of just how alone he was in such a large house.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, bringing his phone up in front of his face, scrolling through one of his playlists until he found the right song. With a few taps, some Drake came through the kitchen speakers. Jisung turned up the volume to near max, his head subconsciously moving to the beat of “In My Feelings”. He took a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit it, the tip turning from paper and plant to a red, ashy ember as he inhaled.

Was he allowed to smoke in the house? Of course not.

Did Jisung give a shit? Absolutely not.

A text message popped up as Jisung aimlessly scrolled through his various notifications. He opened it, barely scanning through the entire message from his mother until his eyes stopped on a blue phone number. His eyes narrowed, poring over the entire message. “A coworker of mine offered to be a sponsor for you: Lee Minho. He’s a few years older than you, but he’s nice. Here’s his number, please reach out to him.”

Jisung sarcastically scoffed, locking his phone as he placed it back on the countertop, swapping it for the bottle of wine. He took a drag off of his cigarette, then took another long swig from the bottle. “We admit we’re powerless to alcohol,” he mutters the first step under his breath as he slams the bottle down on the counter.

“Maybe I don’t fucking care.”

Jisung woke up on the couch to the sound of heels clacking against the hardwood floor just before eight in the morning, his fingers jostling an empty bottle of scotch on the floor as he brought his hands to his face.

“Get cleaned up, please.” His mother’s voice was accompanied by bright spotlights suddenly shining directly on his face. “I’ve invited Minho over to meet with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Jisung’s voice was low and gravelly, groaning as he sat upright. The world spun, his body carried by the false inertia his mind had created.

His mother trotted off to the kitchen, shouting over her shoulder. “I know you didn’t. I did it because I care about you, Sungie.”

The blonde rubbed his clammy hands against his face again, attempting to wipe the sleepiness from his eyes. He grabbed his phone off of the floor, then wobbled his way upright, the living room spinning around him in a familiar sense of uneasiness.

“You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself,” he muttered under his breath.

Somehow, Jisung managed to make his way upstairs to his room, stripping an article of clothing off with each lazy step from his bedroom door towards his personal washroom. By the time he got to the glass enclosure of the shower, he was totally stripped bare. Jisung distantly stared at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, a gaunt and ashy doppelganger staring back at him with a pained, empty look on his face.

Instead of stepping into the shower, Jisung approached the mirror, subconsciously bringing his hands to touch his flushed face. His cheekbones were more prominent now than they were earlier in the year, dark circles painted in broad strokes under his eyes. His gaze trailed down the scars he had inflicted on his arms and on his thighs, reminders of the failed attempts to take his own life that he was now forced to carry with him, wearing each line and mark as a badge of shame.

A warm tear rolled down his face as it contorted into an expression of terror and hurt, before he took his fist and crashed it into the mirror in front of him, a spiderweb of the impact left behind in the cracked glass as he pulled his bloodied knuckles away. Some glass shattered to the floor, some still wedged in the gaps between his fingers, and Jisung stared at the crack that split his reflection into several fragments.

How he was still alive was beyond him.

“Mrs. Han, please,” a lilted, unfamiliar laugh travelled up the staircase as Jisung slowly made his way down towards the first floor. He squinted at the noise that caused his head to throb, realizing that someone unknown speaking to his mother, likely the Minho she had mentioned earlier. With each step he took towards the drawing room, the voice got louder, each staccatoed laugh more pronounced.

“Jisung, come sit,” his mother said, replacing the genuine smile on her face with a fake, ‘Vaseline-on-the-teeth’ smile. She motioned towards the empty space on the couch, opposite from the young brunette that turned around.

Jisung met his eyes and it suddenly felt like his surroundings cracked and shattered around him, like the mirror upstairs. Rich brown eyes glistened behind the black and gold browline glasses that rested against the bridge of his nose. Rose-tinted lips curled upwards in a shy smile, revealing large, rabbit-like front teeth that rested softly against his bottom lip.

“Hi,” the stranger said with a gentle wave, “I’m Minho. Resident biochemist at the pharmaceutical company your mother works for.”

As Jisung made his way over to the open spot on the couch, he squinted, refusing to break eye contact with the strange invader. It felt like he was a wild animal on display, about to be poked and prodded by zookeeper staff or by scientists in some sort of underground, off-the-books laboratory. It would fit, after all, since the man was some sort of scientist.

“I’ll let you be,” Jisung’s mother says, rising to her feet. “Maybe you should tell Minho about your little misstep last night, hmm?”

Jisung rolled his tongue over his bottom lip and shook his head sarcastically. “Go enjoy your overfilled glass of wine at nine-fucking-thirty, ma. I’ll be here spilling my guts to a stranger that gives more of a shit about me than you.” Minho winced and his expression fell from cheerful to shocked.

The men stared at each other, Jisung’s gaze layered with arrogance, and Minho’s heavy with awkward discomfort. “So,” the younger man kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, pulling a pack of cigarettes and his trusted lighter from his sweatshirt pocket, hoping to wrap up the conversation as soon as possible. “I know you work with my mother, you’re an alcoholic, and your name’s Minho.” As quickly as Jisung could take in a breath, the cigarette between his teeth was lit, and he was glaring at the intruder through the grey haze that came between them. Their eyes met again, Jisung growing more and more wary by the second. “Why should I pick you as my sponsor, when I feel like you’re just gonna snitch to my mother?”

Minho’s jaw looked like it was clenched too tight, his bottom eyelids squinted upwards as he studied the younger man in front of him. They watched each other, eyeing each micromovement the other’s face made. About halfway through Jisung’s cigarette, Minho finally broke the uncomfortable eye contact, and took a deep breath. “I’m not asking for you to trust me, or to spill your life story,” he shifted, sitting upright, “but for you to see me as a mentor when things get hard and you want to dampen your feelings with alcohol. I’ve been there, Jisung.”

Indignation washed over the younger man’s face, quickly replaced by a familiar wave of arrogance. Jisung shook his head, ashing his cigarette directly onto the floor. “Doubt it,” he tutted, licking his teeth as he nodded his head, staring at the ring on Minho’s finger. He smirked to himself, then turned his head away and up towards the ceiling. “Looks like you’ve got someone that loves you. I don’t know what that feels like; never have, never will.”

The elder chewed on his bottom lip, clenching his fist as his eyes subconsciously scanned the ring on his finger. “Had.”

“What?” Jisung turned his head back towards Minho with a look of disgust on his face, ashes falling from his cigarette.

The brunette sighed, leaning further into the couch, nervously running his thumb over his balled up fingers. “He’s the reason I turned to drinking, to fill the void he left in my heart when he died.”

Shit.

For the first time in ages, Jisung felt a slight pang of regret twinge in his abdomen.

Minho swallowed hard, almost as if he were holding back his emotions. “We were married for five years, together since high school. You’d think I would’ve known the signs, but Chan was so good at hiding things, hiding his pain from everyone.”

The ember in Jisung’s cigarette died out as he found himself enraptured in Minho’s story.

Chan was Minho’s high school sweetheart. They started dating their sophomore year of high school, both attended the same university, and they got married when they were twenty. To Minho, Chan was everything. They supported each other, making the other man stronger and gave them a reason to go on.

Minho had no idea that Chan was severely depressed, holding his true feelings to his heart. Not long after Minho’s twenty-fifth birthday, Chan disappeared, only leaving a journal behind. It had started off with an apology, that if Minho found his journal, that it was too late to save him and that Chan had simply given up. On nearly every page, Chan reiterated that it wasn’t Minho’s fault, that Chan was just too far gone beyond repair, that Minho had given him a new lease on life, but it wasn’t enough.

Exactly three weeks after Chan had gone missing, police were on the doorstep of their shared home.

“Dental records,” Minho whispered, his eyes distant and glazed over as he lost himself in the memory. “That’s how they knew it was Chan. I don’t remember much after that, but I thought that I could find the answer to why Chan took his own life at the bottom of a bottle.”

Jisung’s grip on the arm of the couch was so tight, his knuckles had turned white and they were starting to ache.

“Several bottles,” Minho continued, “several bottles and several near-death experiences waking up in the hospital later, and I still hadn’t figured out the answer. I figured that maybe I’d see him again if I drank enough. Now,” he folded his arms, tucking his chin into his chest, “I’ve accepted that I’ll never know the answer to that question, that I need to live on for him. If there’s an afterlife, maybe I’ll get to ask him myself. Until then, though,” Minho rolled his teary eyes up to meet Jisung’s uncomfortable gaze, “I just want to atone for not doing enough before. I want to help others that are hurting, you know?”

They continued to stare at each other for what felt like hours, until Jisung finally shook his head. His voice cracked as he tried to speak. “Sorry,” his apology was shockingly sincere, “I guess I spoke before I thought.”

Minho awkwardly smirked, dismissively waving his hand in between them. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted you to know that I’ve been at rock bottom and that there’s a way up and out, as long as you’re willing to put in the effort.”

Maybe Jisung was willing to give Minho a try.

At first, Jisung agreed to meet with Minho once a week after the mandatory AA meeting he attended. It took seven visits spanning seven weeks before Jisung eventually opened up about the neglect he faced from both of his parents, the emptiness he felt from being raised by nannies, feeling like money was more important than his own life.

Ten weeks in, they started hanging out on the weekends. Their relationship shifted from mentorship to friendship, and it was somewhat a relief that Jisung finally had someone he could trust enough to call his friend.

Week fourteen was when things started to shift further. Jisung hadn’t consumed alcohol in eight weeks, and things were clearing up, slowly but surely. He had been meeting with Felix more and more, too — maybe they weren’t quite friends yet, but Jisung was at least trying.

Things were looking up for the first time in Jisung’s life.

At week sixteen, Jisung stayed over at Minho’s apartment, convincing him that he needed to watch Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. The blonde had vehemently pressed that it was, quite possibly, one of the best series of all time, animated or otherwise. After some gentle pressure, Minho finally caved, and they sat on his couch, diving into the show and into some mediocre takeaways.

They had gotten through the first three episodes and Minho finally relented that, yes, it was a good show and that, yes, Jisung was right.

“I knew you’d like it, dude,” Jisung snickered, playfully poking at Minho’s chest. The corner of his lips tugged upward into a crooked smile, and he wore Minho’s seal of approval as some sort of badge of honour.

The brunette turned away, softly smiling into his shoulder as a rush of crimson started to tint his face. “You’ve got me trying all sorts of new things, Ji,” Minho rubbed the back of his neck for a moment before he flashed his teeth at the younger man. “So much for me being the mentor here, huh?”

Jisung sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth at the nickname, trying to ignore the warmth blossoming up his face. He tried to stumble out some sort of response, but he caught himself getting lost in the way that the overhead lights shimmered in Minho’s eyes, highlighting the soft amber and warm bursts of hazelnut that erupted around his pupils. His expression started to falter, and he felt a familiar rush of excitement bloom in his chest, causing his nerves to come to life all around his body.

He remembered that this was how it felt right before he shared his first drunken kiss with Changbin, but something about this felt different. Perhaps it was the fact that Jisung was completely sober, but he desperately wanted Minho to kiss him, to want him back. However, Jisung wasn’t sure if it would have been a good idea, pondering over if Minho was really ready to start a new relationship, especially with someone he was supposed to be mentoring.

“Something on your mind?” Minho’s voice was soft as it gently guided Jisung back to the moment. “You’re kinda spacing out on me.”

“No, no,” Jisung stumbled around the words he wasn’t sure he could say, suddenly distracted by the television in the background. “I guess I was just thinking about the show.”

Minho’s head tilted to the side, concurrently lifting his brow in confusion. “You guess?”

Jisung waved his hand in between them and readjusted his posture so he was further away from Minho. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve seen it so many times, but it’s one of those shows that you watch and you see something new each time and—”

Warm fingers were suddenly on the side of Jisung’s face, pulling him back into Minho’s space. “You’re a terrible liar.” The voice was soft, yet assertive; low, but so loud. Jisung’s eyes went wide as Minho’s apartment blurred around him, his vision suddenly taken over by the sight of the brunette’s face right up next to his. In front of him.

Before Jisung could process what was happening, he was subconsciously pressing his lips into Minho’s, trying to remember exactly how kissing worked. It was years since the last time he had any practice, but it all came back to him as Minho helped guide Jisung’s face with his hands.

Minho’s tongue was soft, warm, and damp as it gently pressed up against Jisung’s lips, wordlessly pleading for entrance. Without letting his mind mill over the fine details and concerns he possibly had, Jisung parted his lips. Timidly, he rolled his tongue around Minho’s, his hands quivering as his fingers scrambled for purchase in Minho’s hair.

Unlike anyone Jisung had kissed before, this felt right, even if there were some uncomfortable grinding of teeth and awkward nose bumping. Within a reasonable amount of time, they slowly became experts at training the way the other wanted to be kissed. As if Minho could read Jisung’s mind, he would interrupt his soft kisses with gentle nips and grazes at Jisung’s bottom lip.

“Please,” Jisung’s voice cracked as Minho pulled his teeth down his bottom lip, “my neck, I…”

Minho swiftly moved his lips from Jisung’s, peppering tiny pecks against his jawline to his ear, stopping to take the blonde’s earlobe into his mouth with his tongue, grazing the tender flesh between his teeth. Jisung’s back involuntarily arched as the grooves of Minho’s teeth pulled at his sensitive skin, the sensation causing his nerves to come to life with an electrical jolt from head to toe.

The brunette chuckled, his warm breath brushing up against the tiny hairs on Jisung’s ear. He said nothing, simply moving down to press a few soft kisses to the skin just below the younger man’s earlobe. Minho’s lips were soft, gentle, only to be quickly replaced by a sudden, harsh bite into the tender flesh.

A yelp, accompanied by uncontrollable twitching, came from Jisung, who was simultaneously melting into Minho, but also pulling away. The elder’s fingers dug into the blonde’s waist, keeping him in the same position, not allowing him to escape. Jisung’s yelp had faded into a whimper, which evolved into a moan as Minho sucked the flesh between his teeth, quickly repeating the process several times in various spots along Jisung’s neck.

The moans were increasing in volume and breathiness, Jisung subconsciously, frantically rutting his pelvis into the couch. Minho must have caught on to this, letting go of Jisung’s waist to ease him down onto the couch. He pressed his lips to Jisung’s again, dancing his fingertips down to the waistband of the younger man, who was completely blissed out.

“Can I help you with this?” Minho’s voice was somehow both soft yet assertive as his palm pressed against Jisung's clothed erection.

Words eluded Jisung, verbal language suddenly turning into complex algebraic equations that didn’t translate from his head to his tongue. Instead, he groaned in affirmation as he hopelessly rolled his hips upward, finding himself pitiful that he was so desperately craving for Minho to just keep fucking touching him.

Things started to blur in a haze of wanton desire. Minho’s hand gently stroked Jisung’s cock, paying special attention to the way that his fingers and palm brushed against the head. Involuntary twitches took over Jisung as he whimpered and mewled, his shoulder blades grinding into the couch. Minho continued to nibble and bite at Jisung’s neck, occasionally whispering words of assurance and praise into his ear.

“You’re doing so well,” as he slowly dragged his hand from the base of Jisung’s cock up to his head.

“I can’t imagine how incredible you would feel around me,” as he gently thumbed the slit, rubbing precum around the sensitive head and causing Jisung to bite the back of his hand as he failed to stifle a cracked moan.

Jisung’s breaths turned erratic and he was nearly convulsing as his body started to twitch. Minho shifted his weight to his knees, slowing his strokes just enough so that he could awkwardly shift one leg off of the couch to position his head in a way he could take Jisung into his mouth.

“What are you—” Jisung started to question, until he found himself losing control of his body as Minho rolled his tongue around his cock. “Fuck, Minho!” He clamped his eyes shut, arching his back upward, hitting the back of Minho’s throat as he convulsed, his orgasm suddenly completely taking over him. “Minho,” he whined and unclenched his fists; “Minho,” he panted and opened his eyes; “Minho.” With one last breath, he was back to reality.

This had to have been the closest thing to heaven that Jisung thought he would ever experience.

Jisung had stayed over at Minho’s that night, too tired to function like a normal human. They slept on the couch together, necks crooned in uncomfortable positions all night long, bodies stiff from the unnatural firmness that Minho’s couch held. The next morning, they chose not to discuss the night prior, but they did exchange some soft kisses, until Jisung protested, mentioning that their morning breath was distracting him from actually enjoying the kiss.

Their weekends continued on like this: spending time watching a couple of episodes of their chosen programme until they got distracted and lost within each other. Nothing progressed further than handjobs, the occasional blowjob, and the one time that they rolled around naked, making out for so long and so intensely that the way they pressed their bodies together caused Jisung to come without any additional stimulation — and, hey, they liked it.

The budding relationship between them was confusing. During the week, Minho acted like the appropriate, wise mentor, with Jisung as his eager pupil. When the weekend came around, however, all bets were off. In everything but title, they were boyfriends for all intents and purposes. Every time Jisung tried to bring it up, Minho would shut down, saying that he wasn’t ready to really think seriously about it yet.

So, Jisung didn’t press. He was sure that their intimate interactions were causing conflicting emotions to arise within Minho, emotions he probably had been ignoring since Chan’s death, trying to shove them down as time went on. Even though he wanted to navigate the full spectrum of sexual experiences with Minho, Jisung remained silent until Minho was ready.

#why can't we drink forever?#skz fics #skz smut #minsung #lee minho x han jisung #han jisung x lee minho #minho x jisung #jisung x minho #wherevermyway

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