#i was very young when we got our first dog and very young when she passed away so i think losing lola truly feels like

[kimjiwoong]

I went on a random walk around my neighbourhood and I realized a few minutes in that I was accidentally taking the route I always took with my dog and now I'm literally heartbroken all over again lmao

[persephonewritessometimes]

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.

Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?

Smut n fluff

Please

Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full

Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.

"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.

"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.

"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.

"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."

"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.

"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.

"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."

"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.

"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.

"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."

"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.

"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.

"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.

"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."

"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.

"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."

"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"

"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.

“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.

“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.

I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.

“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.

“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.

“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.

“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”

“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.

“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.

“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”

“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.

“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.

“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”

“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.

“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.

“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”

“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”

“My…hands?” He says slowly.

“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”

“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.

“They’re big,” I whisper.

“And what does that make you think about?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“No, no I want to hear you say it.”

In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”

“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.

“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”

“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.

“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”

“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.

“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.

“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”

“I understand completely, sir.”

“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.

“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.

“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.

“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”

“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.

“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”

“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I understand!” I blurt out.

“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.

“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.

“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.

“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.

“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”

“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”

“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.

“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.

“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.

“Green,” I say quickly.

“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.

I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.

“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.

“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.

“Try again, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. Daddy.”

“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.

“Daddy, people will see.”

“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.

“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”

“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”

“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,

“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.

“Daddy, please, too much.”

“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.

I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.

“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”

“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”

“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”

“Okay, let me grab a condom.”

“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”

“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.

I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.

“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.

“How long was I out?” I say softly.

“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.

“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”

“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.

“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”

“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.

“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“Good, because I don’t want you to.”

[mkkk12345]

Divus Crewel x Wife Reader How they met

Sorry this took so long to write, I was once again procrastinating lol Feel free to request situations (I write slowly and I’ll be pretty busy for the next while sadly, but please do request if you would like to! I'll do anyone in twst for the most part with your usual restrictions) (side note I got the names for the dogs from the 101 Dalmatians)

1.2K words

------

Oh how Crewel would come to regret what he had done that day, he really should have seen it coming. “Hey! Professor Crewel, tell us how you met your wife!”

This had all started when Crowley had approached him with a challenge. “If you manage to raise the class average of the first years to let's say~ 80 percent? I'll give you a raise! Am I not so incredibly generous? Hahahhahaaaa” He cawed to himself as Crewel walked away absolutely done with the crow mans shenanigans

Rolling his eyes he responds “I guess there is no harm in attempting it”

As an encouragement to study harder he had told his students that if they were able to raise the class average to 80 percent by the next semester he would allow them to ask one question about his personal life. Of course all of the students had jumped at the chance to glance into the oh so mysterious and strict teachers personal life.

And that is why we are here now.

Professor Divus Crewel, now being forced to tell the oh so embarrassing story of how he had met his lovely wife.

“Well it's not the worst question you lot could have asked. I would rather not share this story but if I must I will do so…”

—----

Divus was around 17 when he first met Y/N It was a bright and sunny day, the weather was perfect and it just so happened to be a long weekend, a rare opportunity to visit home in the Queendom of Roses.

It was also a perfect day to take his beloved pet dalmatian Perdita for a nice long walk in the nearby park for some long deserved bonding time.

When Crewel was home from NRC he would often take Perdita to the park. Whether it was actual exercise or for some relaxing time outside to sketch new fashion designs, Perdita never really minded. But today was different, the minute the pair stepped out of the door the spotted dog went bolting in the direction of the park. “Hey! Slow down girl, why on earth are you in such a rush today?!” he said, trying to keep all his sketching supplies from falling to the ground.

Luckily for young Divus, the dalmatian did eventually slow down once they reached the park. “You act as if no one has been bringing you to the park since I left for school.” he said exasperated from the impromptu run.

Soon after catching his breath Divus and his companion walked over to a nearby bench so the boy could start sketching, but right as he put his sketching equipment down there was another sudden tug on the lead and once again they were off “hey! Slow down! What has gotten into you toda-” CRASH he had been cut off suddenly, crashing into another person as Perdita and what seemed to be another dalmatian were running circles around the two very effectively tying the two together.

When he finally pried his eyes away from the dogs he finally realized the full situation he was in, tied up with a very beautiful young lady. “Oh my god I'm so sorry he doesn't usually act like this, Pongo would you stop that already?”

“Don't worry it was neither of our faults really, I guess these two have taken quite the interest in one another” he said as he pulled his arm out of the leashes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck a blush forming on his face as he looked at a very interesting tree behind her.

“They've actually been like this for weeks!” she laughed as she finally met his eyes, “Oh you must be Divus! Your mother talks about you very often.” He was surprised, not only was this girl absolutely stunning but she already knew him. Although he would never admit it, he practically fell in love with her right then and there, the way she beamed with joy, the slight blush on her cheeks, her laugh even in the strangest of situations.

In an attempt to calm himself he averted his gaze again and began to untie him and his new developing crush from the entanglement of leashes they were trapped in “Oh you must have met mother while she was walking Perdita I do hope she didn't tell you anything embarrassing” a strained smirk appeared on his face, knowing how his mother liked to tell the most embarrassing stories of his childhood.

“Well I cant say she didn't say anything” she laughed softly again drawing Divus’s attention for a moment the blush on his face growing ever brighter.

Snapping out of his short trance he asked “Might I ask for your name then since you already know mine?” With blush remaining on the tips of ears he held out his hand like a gentleman, both with the intention to give her, her dogs leash back but also to lead her over to a bench so they could hopefully continue their conversation.

“Oh my apologies how rude of me, My name is Y/N nice to finally meet you.” She bashfully took both the leash and his hand, walking over to the bench.

“The pleasure is mine”

—-

“And whilst that was all happening I looked over to our dogs, only to find them looking at each other with what seemed to be a grin on their faces like they planned that all out.” Crewel sighed as he recalled how proud those little devils looked. “After quite a long conversation that ended up in me never actually starting a new sketch, we traded contact information and left the park.” he looked up at his students now regretting all his life decisions.

“And that is how I met my wife, now it seems like class is over, please leave quickly so I can question why I ever became a teacher in the first place.”

“But prof how did you ask her out?” “Yeah yeah! Who was the first one to confess!” “How did you propose????”

Frustrated crewel quickly answered “If I recall correctly you were all only given the privilege of asking one question, now if you don't stop pestering me I will be giving you even more homework.” a completely very unnoticable blush began to form on his face.

“Sorry sir!” Everyone shouted in unison, but on their way out the students did not miss the slightest hint of red that dusted their professor's cheeks as he pretended to sort through papers.

Once everyone had left and silence had fallen through the classroom a laughter could be heard coming from the Professors phone. “Awwwww darling, you retell that story so fondly~” Crewel sighed as he finally looked over at his phone

“I honestly can not believe I let you talk me into letting you listen to that.” he said with a hand firmly planted on his face covering any sign of pink that appeared.

“Consider it as repaying me for when I dropped those papers off for you. Now hurry home our two rascals of dogs are looking at me like I should thank them for getting us together.” she laughed nervously

“Yes yes honey see you soon” ending the call with a small smirk as he muttered “I should buy some more dog treats on the way back.”

[hongmingoo]

Still You

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!Reader

Warnings: Brother's best friend, Best friend's sister, Slight underage relationship, Slight teacher-student relationship, Domestic Abuse (not explicit), Exes to lovers, Angst, Fluff, Forbidden love tragedy

Word Count: 11k+

Inspired from: Still You - Seungkwan

Summary: Tragic love story between two lovers who met at the wrong time, having to go through trials after trials just to end up finding each other again.

Jeon Wonwoo has never believed in love at first sight. He always thought that it takes time for people to get to know each other and eventually fall in love. But with you, it's so different.

You were his best friends' sister. A young girl compared to the circle he is used to. You were away, living with your grandmother in Jeju while your brother lived with your mom in Seoul. Six years younger than Jisoo is, you are instantly adored by his peers.

So, Wonwoo thought it's only normal for him to adore you too. You were a nice kid, polite and kind, also very understanding– very unfitting of your young age. You didn't complain when you're left alone at home after school because your mom works until late and your brother is busy with his school and part time job.

You'd do the chores at home on your own, cook simple dinner to eat, do your homeworks and go to bed early for school days. Sometimes, your classmate, Seungkwan would bring you food and side dishes that his mom made since he lived just next door. And because his younger brother Seokmin is in the same class as you too, he often sees you when he comes to pick Seokmin up from your house after his part time job.

"Poor Y/nie" Seokmin would say one day when they both walk home from your house.

"Why?" Wonwoo questioned.

"Because she's always left alone. Her mom's busy working, same as Jisoo-hyung. But when I asked her if she's lonely, she'd say she's okay with it because they're working hard to make extra cash now that she's staying with them. She's allowed to say she's lonely right, hyung?" Seokmin sighed, his tiny shoulders slumped from the heavy exhale.

Seokmin is caring, more than a 10-year-old should be, but that made Wonwoo proud nonetheless.

"Should we prepare a welcoming party for Y/nie? It's been 2 weeks since she came, right? We haven't had the time to welcome her properly. So, go tell Seungkwan and Soonyoung tomorrow that we'll throw a party for Y/nie at our home on Saturday" Wonwoo suggested, bending down to match his brother's eye level.

Seokmin's face lit up, nodding enthusiastically at the idea.

Still, Wonwoo didn't expect you'd be so happy when they threw the small party for you that Saturday. Didn't expect you'd cry and hugged him while saying your thanks. You'd hugged Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung too, promising that you'd be best friends forever.

Jisoo and his mom had come at 8pm to pick you up and thanked his family for welcoming you so warmly which made his mom pat his back in pride. He'd kneel down in front of you to wipe your tears, told you to smile because you looked so pretty smiling.

Wonwoo didn't expect to fall for you, the way he did because he shouldn't. You are his best friend's sister, the one he looks up to as his own brother. And most importantly, you're way too young for him, plus you're also his brother's best friend. By the time he's 17, he realized that his first love is someone he can't get, someone he isn't supposed to love, someone he has to give up entirely on.

At 17, Jeon Wonwoo realized he had fallen in love with the 12-year-old you.

But, in his defense, you're way too mature for a 12-year-old. You're as attentive and caring as your brother Jisoo. You'd give him your handmade cards on his birthday, accompany him and Seokmin for dog walking, never attempt to drag him to a pool or a lake because you knew he had a fear of drowning.

There was one time where you'd knit a scarf for him because he got cold so easily. Tell him you learnt how to knit at school. You said you wanted to make him some mittens but it's too hard so you ended up making him the dark blue colored scarf instead. Then, you also promised that you'd make him a beanie with cat ears because he likes cats once you've practiced enough.

And Jeon Wonwoo realized he is fucked up because he can't possibly love someone so young. The guilt is eating him alive, he felt like he was betraying the trust Jisoo had on him. So, he did the only thing he knew at the moment. He ran away.

You were told by Seokmin that his brother had left to live with his grandparents in Changwon. So he could focus on his studies since he's a high school senior now.

"So, today our class will be taken over by the new student teacher. He's here for his internship for 6 months. So please be nice to him" your homeroom teacher, Mr. Yoon reminded his students. He welcomed the new teacher, that you didn't even notice his presence in the class, not that you cared.

You were just doodling when Soonyoung slapped your arm hard, to get your attention.

"Ow! What is wrong with you?!" You whisper-yelled, still having the decency to be quiet in class. You gave him a nasty glare but he paid you no mind, eyes still glued on the figure at the front of the class.

"Isn't he Seokmin's brother? The new teacher" he whispered, eyes not leaving the front.

"Hello, my name is Jeon Wonwoo. I'll be teaching you Math for this semester. Nice to meet all of you," the deep voice introduced himself with a smile. Your eyes widen, because you remember that voice, that face and most importantly, that smile.

"Hyung! It's me, Soon–" Soonyoung was about to expose himself, raising his hand in the air, but you quickly pulled him down together with you to hide your face on your table.

"Why are we hiding?!" He whispered, confused by your actions.

"I don't know?!" You replied, shaking your head.

"What?! Are you on your period or something? You're acting weird. Anyways, we're gonna have to introduce ourselves, so act proper" your friend scolded. You were stunned because he played Uno reverse on you since usually it's the other way around for you.

"My name is Kwon Soonyoung. My birthday is June 15 and I like tigers! I think you already knew me since we met when I was 10. I am Seokmin's best friend too" Soonyoung introduced himself happily, his hands flying everywhere. Wonwoo's eyes lit up in recognition upon seeing him, his smile widened.

"Oh, Soonyoung. You've grown. Nice to see you again. I look forward to seeing you around more" he chuckled at the boy's excited giggle. Soonyoung turned around to his side, a girl with long dark hair was sitting next to him, face hidden behind a book.

"Come on, your turn" Soonyoung chirped. You wished he could just shut up for one second. You groan inwardly as you stand up, feeling eyes on you already. You reluctantly meet Wonwoo's gaze but it accidentally turned into a glare from how hard you clenched your jaw.

"My name is Hong Y/n. I was born in winter, my hobby is reading" you mumbled your introduction, barely audible but Wonwoo heard it so clearly. It's you, the girl he missed the most. The girl who's still so pretty donning her summer uniform, even though it's already September, despite giving him a harsh glare with a pair of hazel orbs. Wonwoo's eyes widened slightly and his breath hitched but he masked it with a polite smile, the kind that teachers usually have.

"Did you miss your breakfast this morning, Hong Y/n? You seemed grumpy," he teased, for the sake of shaking off the heavy air hung in the classroom. The whole class erupted in laughter and you took a seat after blowing air to your bangs in annoyance.

"How did you know that, teacher? Y/n's only grumpy when she's hungry~" Youngji teased, earning a glare from you too.

"She reminds me of my cat at home. Grumpy when hungry, hehe" Wonwoo chuckled, making the whole class laugh again, except you of course.

"Anyways, I hope we get along just fine this semester. Pleased to meet all of you"

...

"Did you not have any decency to tell us your brother is back and he'll be teaching our class?" You scoffed, sitting at the table at the park for lunch.

"He told me to keep it a secret. He wanted to surprise you guys," Seokmin grinned, opening his lunch box carefully and picking up his chopsticks to start eating.

"I thought I was dreaming when I saw him walk into our class," Soonyoung said, sipping on his strawberry milk.

"So, he's back to your home?" Seungkwan questioned, munching on his sausage.

"No. He rented a house in town. He visited last weekend. And told me to keep it a secret. And here he is today" Seokmin laughed at your incredulous face.

"Are you still mad at him? It's been 5 years. Forgive him already. I thought you moved on from him?" Seungkwan asked.

"I didn't like him"

"Okay? So why are you mad?"

"He left without saying anything to me"

"You weren't anyone to him, Y/n. Why would he tell you? Haven't you thought of it like that?" Seungkwan questioned and you went silent, glaring at him. Soonyoung choked on his sandwich while Seokmin eyed the two of you warily.

"You didn't have to be so blunt about it," Soonyoung coughs, reaching for his strawberry milk. But Seungkwan was right, you were just a friend to his brother, why would he even tell you anything at all? But part of you is still mad at him, because you thought you were special, maybe you mean something to him. But no, you need a reality check. There's no way someone as perfect as Wonwoo would fall for a kid like you.

"Can I join you guys? We haven't had the chance to catch up," a familiar voice rang from behind you, making you frozen on the spot.

"Hyung! Have a seat, let's eat together," Soonyoung cheered and Wonwoo thanked him with a smile. He took a seat on the empty spot next to you, setting his tumbler and lunch box down before he began eating. You still froze, unable to look his way at all.

"You have to call me Teacher at school though. Please remember that," he scolded lightly, nose scrunching up in a cute smile. He still looked so cute and dainty, despite his body having bulked up from the last time they saw him. It's such a contradiction, but he looked hot anyways so who cares.

"Right, sorry. It's confusing," Soonyoung complained.

"When did you come back to Seoul?" Seungkwan asked, looking up at the older male eating his lunch cutely. Tiny bites of everything but somehow still has his mouth full and cheeks puffing up.

"2 weeks ago. I had to settle down in my new home and get ready for school. So yeah, haven't had the time to reach out"

"I see, I thought you just moved back in with your family, that way we could hang out again" Soonyoung whined.

"We can, once I've settled down properly sometime later. Though I wonder, would you younglings even want to hang out with an oldie like me?" The teacher teased.

"Ayy, come on. You looked the same, since 5 years ago. Even Seokmin looks older than you" Seungkwan scoffed before getting into a debate with Seokmin. Wonwoo looks over to you, who has been eating your food silently, not engaging in any of their noisy banter.

"I heard Jisoo is teaching at the private school out of town?" He asked, gently seeking your attention. You just nodded, not sparing him any glances and he had to hold back a pout at your lack of interest in him.

It used to be so different, you would have given him your full attention before he even opened his mouth. But now, you wouldn't even spare him a glance.

"I'm heading back to class. I forgot to do the notes Ms. Jung told us last week. See you in class, Soonie" you retorted, standing up from your chair to leave.

"Didn't you finish the notes right after? You even let me copy it yesterday–" Soonyoung cuts himself off immediately upon seeing you throw him yet another dirty glare, stomping away immediately.

"Sorry, she's on her period. Mood swings" the boy chuckled, scratching at his nape sheepishly.

Wonwoo's eyes trailed your leaving form. Your shiny hair, the tight shirt that clung to your form, your skirt dancing in the slight breeze, your long legs, cute socks peeking from your shoes. 5 years of being away trying to move on has gone down the drain, at the mere sight of you, the beautiful you who is mad at him, the pretty you who owns his heart.

He can no longer deny it. He loves you. He's madly in love with you.

"Is it your mission to follow me around now?" You questioned, irritation obvious on your face as you eyed Wonwoo suspiciously. You were working part time at the local bookstore, the one the elderly couple owns. It was your favorite spot, the place has become your mini library since there's rarely any customers anyways. Wonwoo knew this place, he was the one who brought you here in the first place. So, it's not weird to see him hanging around you because to them, you guys have always been close since you were kids. And today, they left the store for you to handle in favor of going to visit their grandchildren who had just given birth.

"Because you're mad at me and you're avoiding me. I need to know why" he explained, eyes soft as he looked up at you from his sitting position on the bench in the back corner of the store.

"I'm working. You could have meet me sometime later"

"You won't meet me even if I try. So I had to come here"

He was right, you have been avoiding him except in class because there was no way to run and you needed the knowledge because you suck at Math. Other than that, you would have bolted somewhere else if you even saw just a tiny tuft of his fluffy hair poking somewhere.

"Tell me why you're mad?" He persuaded, right hand reaching out to curl around your smaller one.

"I don't know, ask yourself. You were the one who left without any notice. You could have told me and I would have waited for you. But then you decided to come back here, unnoticed. What am I supposed to do?" You grumbled, pulling your hand back, unable to stop your rambling as you focus your gaze on the books you need to stack.

Wonwoo stood up from the bench, towering over you, and you made yourself smaller, fitting your body in the corner, avoiding his stare.

"Have you ever thought that maybe because I'm a coward? That I might have fallen for you but I shouldn't do that because you're my brother's best friend and my best friend's sister" he says, leaning closer to you.

"So what if I am your brother's best friend? So what if I am your best friend's sister? Is there some kind of rule that says that people like that shouldn't date each other?" You countered, glaring up at him. Wonwoo was quite taken aback from what you said, so you continued.

"Plus, I'm not that naive enough to think that you'd like a kid like me. Now move, I have tons of books to stack by today" you pushed him aside to grab the books on the cart and began arranging them neatly on the shelf.

"What if I say you're my student? Someone I shouldn't have developed any feelings on. Someone I should have clear boundaries with?" He questioned.

"Then, why are you here Mr. Jeon? If you know you should have clear boundaries with me, you should have just ignored me instead of following me around like this," you challenged, turning around to look into his eyes again. It shocked Wonwoo to the core to see you so upfront like this. He forgot what he wanted to say when his eyes met the blaze in your orbs.

"If you need to know, you are a person to me first before you're a teacher to me. The person that I liked when I was 12. Now please go. I'm working, you're disturbing me" you sighed, pushing him backwards to stumble towards the door. Wonwoo was stunned, he didn't expect that you'd just confessed to him. That was his answer, you were mad because you liked him but he left you behind without any news.

"It's okay to be naive sometimes, Y/n-ah" he breathes, large hands grasping your wrist gently to stop you from pushing him away. You glared up at him again, a frown decorating your pretty face. You didn't say anything, but it's enough to know you're questioning his motives.

"It's okay to be naive, to think that I liked you. No, actually… I love you. I'm sorry for being a coward and running away," he confesses. Your frown deepens and it was obvious to him that you're not buying what he says.

"Stop playing with me, Mr Jeon. Is this some kind of hidden camera you planned with the guys?" You asked, looking around the store warily. He smiled at you, hands traveling up to cup your face before planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I'm not playing with you. I genuinely love you. My heart is about to burst out of my ribcage from nervousness, you know. You can listen and be the judge," he chuckled, pulling your smaller body into his arms, your head resting on his chest. It was true, his heartbeat was going frenzy. It feels warm, being in his embrace, surrounded by his scent. It makes you feel safe. You realized you miss this, you miss him. Slowly, you wrap your arms around him– clutching at the fabric of his cardigan.

"I don't know if I can trust you. You were the one who left me behind after all," you mumble into his chest, voice muffled by the fuzzy fabric. He chuckled, tightening the embrace.

"Let me make it up to you, okay?" He assured, kissing the crown of your hair affectionately. You let yourself be comforted by his warmth and steady breath. Loving how he feels around your figure, you nuzzle your face into his neck and let out a relieved exhale.

"Thank you for coming back," you whispered.

You were having a study sleepover with your besties at Wonwoo's house for the upcoming college entrance exam which will be held in 2 weeks.

It's already 2am and your friends are passed out on the couch and the carpet, leaving you alone still trying to answer one more question for the past hour. Wonwoo came back from his room with extra blankets and pillows to place over the scattered boys.

"It's late. You should rest and continue tomorrow," he says, kissing you on the cheeks. You pull back in surprise, afraid that your friends might see you but Wonwoo only smiles and kisses the tip of your nose.

"They're dead asleep, baby" he chuckles. You sighed, falling into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your boyfriend tugs you closer to him until you're straddling his lap, wraps his arms around you securely, kissing your temple.

"You're working so hard. I'm so proud of you, baby. You didn't have to worry so much. You'll do just great. I believe in you" he assured, rocking you back and forth in a comforting manner. You hummed, loving the attention he showers you with.

"Let's get you to bed" he says, carrying you up to his bedroom. He took you to the attached bathroom first to let you do your nightly routine, before carrying you to bed and tucking you beneath the soft covers of his queen sized bed.

"Get some sleep, I'll sleep with the boys outside. Just call or come outside if you need me, okay?" He whispers, kissing your forehead and brushing your hair out of your face lovingly.

"Won't you cuddle me first?" You pouted as he moved to leave already.

"Don't act cute like that baby. I'm trying my best to be nice here" he grunted but relents when you bat your eyelashes at him. He slides under the cover with you, immediately tangling himself with you. An arm sliding under your head, another pulling you close by the waist. Your hazel orbs are shimmery from the moonlight that peeks through the curtain and he couldn't stop himself from leaning into you.

He places a soft peck onto your plush lips as if to test the waters. Diving right in when you close your eyes and lean into the kiss. The hand that was on your waist cupped your jaw to tilt your head so he could kiss you better, your lips meshing together in a passionate liplock. You pulled away to gasp for air and he chased you back, capturing your plush pillowy lips in a kiss because he couldn't get enough of you. He's addicted to your taste.

It wasn't long before he pushed you to lay on your back and hover over your small body, forearms bracketing your head. Your arms curling around his neck, nimble fingers playing with the hair on his nape. Your hearts are beating erratically in your chests, excitement thrilling through your veins making you feel as if time stopped and it's only you and him in this world. You love the feeling of being smothered in his scent, overloading your senses. You love the feeling of Wonwoo on top of you.

When Wonwoo pulled away, it's you who chased his soft lips this time. He smiled, resting his forehead on top of yours, breath heavy. You could see it in his beautiful obsidian, the way he looks at you with so much love in them. He doesn't need to spell it to you, because his eyes are already screaming 'I love you, Y/n'. It makes you overwhelmed, that tears start prickling at your waterlines. You pulled him down, flushed against you to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

"I love you"

...

"So, when do we stop acting like we're oblivious about how they're head over heels for each other?" Seungkwan scoffed under his breath, munching at the slightly burnt toast that you made (only because he absolutely loves you) giving his best bombastic side-eye at the two of you being giggly while cooking breakfast like a bunch of teenagers. The three of them are bunched together at the kitchen island, watching the couple being lovey-dovey in front of them.

"I'm actually hurt that they don't trust us enough to tell us the truth," Soonyoung commented, lathering more chocolate spread on his toast.

"I think they have their reasons. You know how timid my brother could be. Plus his position right now has so many disadvantages to him. It could ruin him" Seokmin added.

"Did you think Y/n could ruin him? Are you serious?" Seungkwan was about to throw hands when Seokmin looked at him, eyes serious.

"Not Y/n. Jisoo-hyung. You know how strict Jisoo-hyung could be"

The two went silent. Agreeing with what Seokmin said.

…

"Are you dating Y/n, hyung?" Seokmin asked as Wonwoo drove him from his apartment. He could see his brother froze for a while, knuckles gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"I could see how you look at her with hearts in your eyes, hyung. And she's not any different either" the younger added. He saw Wonwoo hesitated in the corner of his eyes and sighed.

"You know I'm fully on your side, right? I saw the way you looked at her with such adoration from the first time we met her. You've been in love with her for quite a while, right?"

"Seokmin-ah… I…" Wonwoo trailed, unsure how to continue his sentence, biting his lip in anxiousness. Seeing this, Seokmin sighed.

“Hyung, do you know how long I’ve been gatekeeping Y/n for you? Not just me though, both Seungkwan and Soonyoung did. Seungkwan literally chased away a guy who tried to confess to her. You don’t have to be scared, we knew that you’ve like each other since we were kids. And you don’t have to be scared about dating a student. We’ll protect you both until we graduate, only 3 months left. I just need you to trust us. Trust me. I’m on your side” Seokmin assured.

Wonwoo wasn’t able to say anything else after that. His tears kept flowing down his cheeks. He forgot how kind and caring his brother has been. He was honestly glad that at least he has Seokmin on his side in his ‘forbidden love tragedy’ with you.

“Thank you, Seokmin-ah. I really needed to hear that. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Good luck for CSAT” Wonwoo thanked his brother after he safely parked in the driveway of their family home, wiping his tears with his sweater paws.

“Won’t you look at me or give me a hug though? Am I not your baby anymore?” the younger brother pouted, his arms wide opened for Wonwoo.

“Always my baby. Even until you’re 70” Wonwoo chuckled, pulling his brother towards him and ruffling his hair affectionately. Seokmin giggled happily, nuzzling his nose in his brother’s neck and he squeezed him a little bit tighter.

“Please remember that I am always on your side, hyung. I love you” Seokmin whispered.

The four of you finished CSAT, after struggling for so long, and finally has sometime to enjoy. The school will be holding a Christmas festival before the winter holiday started, so your friends prepared for a performance with Youngji included. They’re only a group of highschool seniors, but they managed to hype the crowd so much that it almost looked like its their concert.

“Y/N!! Come to the stage! Let’s dance!!” Seungkwan screamed from the stage. You laughed and only shook your head from your seat.

“Mr. Jeon! Join us!” Seokmin called, and Soonyoung immediately dragging the older man to the stage to dance with them. Wonwoo is surprisingly a good dancer, you never knew that and were impressed that he managed to keep up with the boys despite just seeing the choreography. He was smiling so shyly when the students cheer him on for a solo dance break.

Your eyes met his, and he blushed madly– tearing his gaze away. He complained that he’s too tired for hardcore dancing but continued to dance for them when the trio gave his their puppy eyes. Its cute, to see such scenes again after a long time of being apart and hiding beneath the student - teacher facade.

Wonwoo sang a song after that, it was a song that he and Seokmin frequently sing, a song you knew all too well– ‘It Must Have been Love’. The whole school went into uproar at the sound of his voice, it was so beautiful, fitting for a man as beautiful as him. It was deep but it’s also so soft that it touched your heart. Wonwoo’s fanclub is cheering madly, lining up at the front of the stage to get a closer look at the young teacher.

“Wow! Such a beautiful song and beautiful voice! Mr. Jeon, who hurt you that badly for you to sing this tearful song?” Mr. Yoon coos.

“Ah, no… I’m just singing it” Wonwoo answered timidly, a shy smile on his lips as he fleeted a glance towards where you were standing on the upper corridor of the school hall. He doesn’t notice it but his fangirls followed his gaze towards you and whispered amongst them.

“What a bad girl. Please be nice your boyfriend girlies, we have feelings too. Or else, all of us will end up heartbroken like Mr. Jeon here” Mr. Yoon tuts playfully, patting Wonwoo on the back. You on the other hand notices the glares his fangirls threw your way, but you pay them no mind. Your eyes met with Seungkwan, the latter just nodding along signalling you he got what you were thinking about.

It’s almost the end of school day when your instincts prove you right. You were dragged by a bunch of girls to the swimming pool– pushed to stand on the edge while the rest of them surrounded you. You knew why they deliberately chose to drag you here, out of all the places in the school, because this is the only place Wonwoo would not come into. The safest place to assault someone because of him, in the name of ‘protecting’ him. Plus, it’s winter right now and the pool is out of bounds for the students.

“Are you Mr. Jeon’s ex-girlfriend?” one of them asked. She was the supposed leader of the fanclub, a self-proclaimed fan of the Math teacher. You remained stoic, showing no emotions on your face.

“I knew you were childhood friends with his brother, Seokmin. but , you dared to flirt with him too? And even broke his heart? And now you’re dating his brother?” another voice condemned.

“What has all that information has anything to do with you guys?” you questioned, unbothered.

“Aren’t you being a bitch right now?! You hurt Mr. Jeon’s feelings and now you’re playing with his brother. You think we’ll let a girl like you get close with them? Who do you think you are?” the leader yelled.

“Damn girl, your voice,” you winces, glaring at her. You stood up straighter, raising one eyebrows in a challenging manner.

“Do you think Mr. Jeon would appreciate you harrassing his ‘ex’ like this behind his back? Do you actually think he’d thanked you guys for dealing with his ‘ex’ for him? At the place he fears the most? Stop being delusional” you scoffed.

“We don’t care what he thinks. We’re dealing with you here because you don’t deserve to be around them at all. Not a poor girl like you with no dad! Mr. Jeon and Seokmin are precious, someone as disgusting as you doesn’t deserve to hover around them. We’re protecting them!”

“You don’t care what he thinks and yet you say you’re protecting them? What a contradiction. How can you guys be so selfish? It’s embarrassing” you chuckled, sarcasm heavy in your tone.

“Who do you think you are, you rude bitch?!” the leader screamed in your face, tugging at the collar of your coat harshly.

“I’m his student, who actually cares about what he thinks unlike you guys” you spat, successfully irritating the girls more. You only managed to hear the door to the pool bursts open and a shout before you were thrown into the water, your heavy backpack and thick coat pulling you down even more. Shucking off your backpack to lessen the weight, then you tried to remove your heavy coat. But you realized you’ll be drowned even before you manage to unbutton the fabric.

“Seungkwan-ah!” you gasped, hanging off the edge of the pool. You noticed it was Mr. Yoon who was scolding the girls and no Wonwoo in sight.

“Gosh, what happened to you?” Seungkwan muttered angrily, hauling you out of the water like a fish caught. You panted, breathing heavily as you lay down on the edge, gulping as much air as you could.

“What happened here? This is a prohibited place during winter. Did the school not tell you that? You are seniors already,” Mr. Yoon scolded, looking between you and the groupies.

“I don’t have anything to say. I was dragged here without consent” you answered, trembling from the cold of the wet clothes. Soonyoung burst in through the door a second later, towels and your gym clothes in his hands.

“What happened? Seungkwan told me to bring you your gym clothes and towels here?” he rushed, panicked to see your state.

“Go change first, we’ll talk after that” Mr. Yoon ordered. Seungkwan pulled you up to stand on your feet, then helped you shrugged the heavy fabric off your shoulders– leaving you in your uniform. You trotted to the bathroom with spare clothes in hand.

“You’re lucky its close to graduation that these kind of things happened. Or else, I’m not sure what the principal will do with you. Y/n, go collect your things from the pool, the rest of you go straight home” Mr. Yoon sighed. You just nodded and walked away, fetching your stuff that the janitor had helped fished out of the pool. You thanked them, wished them a happy holiday and began dragging the wet stuff behind you.

You told Seungkwan and Soonyoung to go first since they had to run errands for their family and Seokmin has gone home with his brother. You’re glad that the brothers weren’t around when something like this happened, because to you, it’s embarrassing. To be bullied at this age, and because of something so ridiculous. You’re used to be mocked as poor girl without a dad, you can take it all and it wasn’t as bad before because Seungkwan and Soonyoung were always there to chase off anyone who dares to open their mouth to insult you. But now that Wonwoo is here, it became terribly worse, just because you have that ‘childhood friend’ connection with him.

You won’t tell him what happened today either, because you refused to make him worry and blame himself. Wonwoo doesn’t deserve that. So, when Wonwoo appeared in front of your door teary-eyed that night, you knew things are about to go down real bad.

“I’m in love with Y/n”

Jisoo, who had just came home that day for Christmas went silent. His smile fell and the air around them hangs heavy. Your mom was with them in the living room too, while you were out with your friends for Christmas shopping. Wonwoo, who was sitting on his knees kept his head low, eyes staring at his fists that were clenching the fabrics of his slacks tightly on his lap.

“What? I didn’t catch you” Jisoo questioned, trying to put a smile on his face again.

“I’m in love with Y/n. I’ve been dating her for almost 3 months. And, I know that I shouldn’t keep this from you because you are my best friend. I’m sorry, Jisoo” Wonwoo explained. A punch was thrown, and the younger guy ended up on the floor, clutching his bruised cheek.

“She’s a minor, you bastard! And your student! Are you crazy??? She’s my baby!” Jisoo yelled, throwing punches after punches until he ended up straddling Wonwoo’s torso and hit him continuously.

“Jisoo! Stop, you’re hurting him” his mom called out.

“I trusted you! And this is what you did to me? You’re sick! Going after my sister behind my back?!!” Jisoo yelled, still punching him– not caring about his mom's cries. His best friend laid there, just taking the hits given to him without any fights at all.

You ran back home after getting a call from your mother, saying your brother is livid and has been beating the living out of his best friend, with your best friends in tow. As soon as you opened the door, your heart broke at the sight of Wonwoo, bloodied and pliant under your brother who was still screaming at him and punching his face.

“JISOO! ENOUGH!” You screamed, pulling him back by his shoulder only for you to receive a punch on your face too, making you stumble back.

“Jisoo! What are you doing?! It’s your sister!” your mom screamed, rushing towards you to make sure you’re okay. You stood up quickly, pulling your brother off Wonwoo with all your might and threw him on the couch.

“Take Wonwoo away, Seokmin. Call an ambulance, make sure he’s okay” you say before Jisoo yanks your hair harshly.

“YOU’RE SIDING WITH HIM?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” he yelled in your face.

“I should be the one to ask that! What’s wrong with you? He’s your best friend” you shouted back, trying to get him to release you.

“I have no best friend who’s a sicko like him! And you shouldn’t be around someone like that!” he exclaimed, throwing you away harshly until your side hits the coffee table.

“I’m turning 18 in 2 weeks! I can do what I wish. You have no control over me” you argued, only to earn you a harsh slap to your left cheek, making you fall to the floor, your lips cracking from the impact. You wince in pain, but the stinging in your scalp is back when your hair is pulled harshly again, to make you look at your brother. His eyes are crazy right now, it scares you to the core. Your mom froze on her spot to see his son beating up his sister for being in a relationship with his best friend but at this point, she wasn’t so sure what was the reason behind this fight anymore.

She looked to her right, to your three best friends, who was busy tending to Wonwoo, while waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Her eyes made contact with Soonyoung, who came up to her and pulled her into an embrace.

You didn’t realize how long had you been fighting with your brother, you feel lightheaded after bumping your head on the drawer when you’re struggling with Jisoo who went insane.

“I SENT YOU TO SCHOOL FOR YOU TO STUDY! NOT FOR YOU TO FLIRT WITH THIS MOTHERFUCKER! HOW MANY MORE BEATINGS SHOULD I GIVE YOU FOR YOU TO GET THAT IN YOUR STUPID BRAIN?!” another punch to your right cheek this time, before the weight on your body is pulled off of you.

Jisoo is being pulled away by police officers from what you could see with your blurry vision, Wonwoo being taken away into an ambulance with Seokmin following him. You saw Soonyoung who was patting your mom on the back to calm her crying, then you saw the phone clutched tightly in her hand. You heard Seungkwan calling for you from your side but your eyes locked with your mom's.

“I’m sorry, mom” you breathed before your vision turned black.

…

You opened your eyes three days later, in a hospital with only your mom with you. She looked sad and stressed. Her eyes are tired, there are bags under them. She told you that Seokmin, Seungkwan and Soonyoung had testified against Jisoo, for assaulting them and the judges are waiting for you to release his verdict.

“Are you sure you want to do this, mom? He’s your son” you say quietly, toying with your food. Your mom stayed silent, folding the towels and clothes into the cabinet as she tidied up your space.

“We can drop the charges and let him free, if you want. I mean, being in the prison must be hard for him–”

“And what? Let him hurt you again? He may be my son, but you are my daughter too. He went on about Wonwoo betraying his trust but he betrayed mine too! He hurt you behind my back. No, actually, this is my fault for always absent. For not being there for you, I was afraid that we wouldn’t get enough to eat to abandon your safety. You must have been so scared, my baby” your mother broke down. Her hands clutching at your shoulders tightly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry…”

“Let’s get you to testify, okay? He deserves a punishment” your mom sobbed, and you only nodded.

When she learned how long you had been beaten by Jisoo, your mother broke down.

At the age of eleven, you had to face your brother's wrath even though it was never your fault to begin with. You had shielded your friends from Jisoo's assault when they accidentally knocked over a plate one day when they came over. It started light, with just a cane but Jisoo eventually lost his control seeing how well you took the beatings.

Seungkwan had begged you to tell your mom and asked for help, but you refused because you solely believed that might hurt Jisoo. You believed that Jisoo had become like this because he's been exhausted and overworked since you came to live with them. So the only way to help him is to let him punish you.

But what you didn't know is that he became addicted with that power he had over you. He had someone he can lash out to when something goes wrong.

"He told me it was for my own good, it was my punishment for being naughty. So, I gladly accepted it and kept quiet," you said silently, not looking the police officer in the eyes. Your mother felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest, punching the air out of her lungs.

"What's the worst injury he inflicted on you?" The officer asked, jotting down on his notebook.

"I broke my arm once when I tried to cover myself. Twisted my ankle when he pushed me down two flights of stairs and hit my head on the dresser a couple times" you tried not to look at your mom, when she let out a shuddering breath, she was seated on the chair next to your bed, trying to hold back her tears from falling.

The police officer turned towards your mother with a grim expression coloring his face. You knew it wouldn't be good news, Jisoo might be prisoned for more than a year, if you're well averse about the law. The two adults walked out of the room, to talk amongst themselves and you found yourself reaching for your phone on the side table.

There was a text from Seokmin, saying he's there too in the hospital with Wonwoo but his parents won't let him see you due to the situation with Jisoo.

'But, they're not here now,' was all it took for you to make a mad dash towards the upper floors where Wonwoo's ward was located. You got a stern scolding from the nurse to be careful which you only apologized sheepishly and continued your journey.

You saw Seokmin standing in front of a door to a ward room, scrolling down at his phone, with a worried look on his face.

"Seokmin," you called out weakly, feeling your muscles burn from your sudden spree. He saw you and quickly rushed towards you to pull you into his embrace. Seokmin was crying, apologizing for not coming to you quickly.

"It's fine. There's nothing you can do. Your parents must have their reasons to not let me see you anymore" you say but he shook his head, pulling away to look at you with teary eyes and a pout on his pretty face.

"You know you'll always be my best friend right? I'll find a way to go see you after this, so don't be sad, okay? I'll bring Wonu too" he sobbed, unable to stop the tears streaming down his cheeks. He said that, but he's crying harder than you are. But, only because Seokmin is such a pure soul who is so sensitive about everything, and tends to cry easily, especially at other people's misery.

You followed the boy into the ward room to check on his brother, and your heart broke yet again at the sight of your boyfriend. His beautiful face was littered with red and purple bruises everywhere, lips cracked at the sides, cuts on his forehead and the underside of his brow.

"I'm sorry that I let this happen to you," you croaked, gently caressing his face with your knuckles. Wonwoo stirred in his sleep, brows furrowing. You reached for something in the pocket of your coat, something that you stuffed there in a rush to get home from shopping the other day.

It was a box of a silver bracelet that you bought for him. It wasn't really expensive, but you still worked your ass off for it. It was a simple silver bracelet, with a diamond shaped piece with his name and a cute cat as charms.

You put it on him, loving the way it dangles around his left wrist prettily. Seokmin was guarding the door, constantly checking his phone in case his parents decided to come back.

"I have to go now. I'll come back to you again, when the time is right, I promise. I love you so much" you sobbed, kissing the crown of his hair and forehead. Seokmin, who heard what you said, turned his head towards you so quickly he almost gave himself a whiplash, eyes widening in terror.

"What… What are you saying? You're talking like you want to go somewhere far. Like you won't see us again. What are you planning?!" He urged, panic lacing in his voice. He grabbed your arms, squeezing them tightly without meaning to and only stopped when you wince in pain.

"What are you planning? Don't go, don't go anywhere. You know none of this was your fault right? You couldn't have guessed he would do that to my brother, to his best friend! You did everything you could, Y/n, don't go" Seokmin pleaded, fat droplets of tears rolling down his face again. He's hiccuping now, from how bad he's sobbing, shaking your smaller form to listen to him.

You don't say anything, only smiling sadly at him which made him break down even more. You pulled him into a hug, rubbing circles on his back as he sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Seokmin. Please tell Seungkwan and Soonyoung too. I love you guys so much. Thank you for being my friends" you choked, voice breaking at the end.

Just like that, you disappeared from their life.

10 years later.

You arrived at the lobby for the engagement party that will be held on the garden rooftop of the hotel. Nervously, you stood in front of the large mirror to check your outfit and makeup. You were wearing a long, backless, black satin slip dress with cowl neck, and spaghetti straps. There's a slit up to your thigh, and you wore a pair of black pumps to match the dress, and a small clutch bag in your hand.

You haven't attended an engagement party in a while, much less one of your closest friends is the host so you're very nervous. You took a very long time to choose the outfit, until you thought black is the safest option, so you went with it.

Glancing at the mirror one last time, you sighed heavily before making way towards the elevator. It was early spring, still a bit chilly but the weather was so nice and the flowers started to bloom already, decorating the glass hall with beautiful colors.

Pushing open the heavy set of doors, your eyes met with the ones you haven't met in 10 years, one of your best friends, Seungkwan.

“You bitch, is that really you Hong Y/n?!” He screamed, gaining the attention of the small crowd who was already there. You cowered, not liking the attention, pressing your pointer finger on your lips to shut him up.

“Did you know how long I've been trying to find you?! You didn't even tell me you're leaving, you nasty piece of shit and now you're suddenly back?! How dare you, you bastard–” Seungkwan cursed before he practically bawled his eyes out right then and there.

“Seungkwan-ah, no! Not now, please, I'm sorry” you begged, pulling him into your arms trying to hold back your tears. You know you will cry tonight, the only reason you're putting on absolutely waterproof makeup tonight, but you still try not to cry, at least not this early into the party.

“I miss you, you piece of shit. How are you alive without me? Who reminded you to take all those vitamins if it's not me?! At least you're looking so snatched so I'm not gonna be ashamed to admit you as my best friend” He grumbled, pulling away to look at your face as fat tears still rolled down his eyes.

“It's you, I was reminded of your voice nagging me all the time, if I dared to skip my vitamins. Thank you for keeping me alive, even from far away” you laughed, wiping his tears with your thumbs. He rolled his eyes at you, while muttering a small “of course”.

“Come on, Soonyoung's with the DJ. He needs to see you” he said, tangling your arms together and navigating you through the hall to go meet Soonyoung. But, you bumped into someone you missed so dearly on the way there. The reason why you left South Korea in the first place to study abroad.

“Wonwoo-hyung! Y/nie is back! See!” Seungkwan chirped excitedly. Wonwoo was frozen in his spot, eyes wide open as saucers. He still looked dashing as always, in his black suit with black tie, hair slicked black neatly with black horn-rimmed glasses decorating his handsome face. His obsidian jewel met yours, there's flashes of emotions in them and you could even see them turned glassy before someone interrupted your moment.

“Wonu, who's this?” Someone asked, it was a woman's voice and you barely managed to hold your glare before turning towards the voice. She was standing close to Wonwoo's side, looking up at him before turning towards you, giving you once over.

“It's my best friend, Y/nie. Y/n, this is Yul-noona. Wonwoo-hyung’s… er…” Seungkwan trailed, looking everywhere until the lady connected the sentence.

“Future fiancée. I'm his future fiancée” she answered, holding out her hand for you to shake. A smile curls on her lips. You could see Wonwoo's jaw tightened, the look in his eyes hardened, like he didn't want to be there, as if he wished the ground would just open up and swallow him.

“I'm Hong Y/n. The old friend. Nice to meet you” you smiled, it was fake, but still a smile– shaking her hand. You swore you could see the hurt in the older man's eyes when you introduced yourself as the old friend, nothing more than that. She couldn't see this, but you know Wonwoo's hinting something towards you, he's letting you see the emotions in his eyes but there's nothing you can do.

Of course, you expected this. No one is willing to wait for someone that long. People are bound to get tired at some point. It wasn't Wonwoo's fault that he found someone to replace you. In fact, you dated some guys too, when you're trying to move on from him. But you broke it all off because it wasn't fair for them. But still, it still hurts like a bitch to see him with a woman that's not you. Wonwoo is making plans to have a family with a woman that's not you, and you couldn't do anything about it.

You excused yourself with Seungkwan in search of Soonyoung, and you could see the latter was babbling nonsense at the DJ who looked so done before the party even started. You laughed.

“Kwon Soonyoung!” Seungkwan called out, pointing towards you as soon as the said male turned towards him. Soonyoung visibly gasped, before jumping off the stage to make a dash towards you. He practically swept you off your feet as he twirled you around before embracing you in a tight hug.

“I miss you!! How the hell did you end up here, not that that matters because I'm so happy to see you again but how the hell?!!” he cried, pulling away, squishing your cheeks with both of his hands.

“I met her at a conference 2 years ago and have been in contact since then. So I invited her today,” a voice answered from behind Soonyoung. It was the soon-to-be groom himself, Seokmin.

“Minie~” you coo, moving to give him a hug too which he gladly accepted with tiny jumps.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! 2 YEARS?? AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO TELL US?!” Seungkwan barked, pulling you away from Seokmin to nag at him, eyes blazing with betrayal.

“DID YOU NOT TRUST US TOO JUST LIKE HOW Y/NIE AND WONWOO-HYUNG KEPT THEIR RELATIONSHIP A SECRET FROM US 10 YEARS AGO?!” Soonyoung added. You flinched from their loud voices, and you could feel all eyes looking at you, including Wonwoo and Yul’s.

“Let's not do this here, I was just respecting Y/n’s decision. She wasn't ready to come back so I wanted to give her time” Seokmin reasoned. The two calmed down almost immediately, frown disappearing as they looked over your form and crowd over you to pull you into a hug.

The rest of the party went smoothly, it was fun. As it turns out, Seokmin's fiancée was your roommate back in college. She went back to Korea as soon as you graduated and you haven't had the chance to reconnect with her until now. You were really happy for them, because they really suit each other, and are so sickeningly in love. What a small world.

You were just sitting at your table, watching the couple dance to the slow beat of the song, while your other two rowdy friends were going around practically everywhere, hyping up the crowd.

“Can I sit next to you?” A voice asked and you just agreed without thinking, only to see that it was Wonwoo. You froze.

“They're still rowdy as always, aren't they?” He chuckled, trying to make a conversation with you. You just smiled and nodded.

“How are you doing? I haven't seen you in so long” he inquired, slowly swirling the glass of red wine in his hand.

“I'm fine. Just alive and breathing,” you say with a sigh. You couldn't understand why it hurts to talk to him again. Maybe because your heart still yearns for him but he doesn't reciprocate that.

You were the one who left him– your mind supplies helpfully.

“How are you?” You asked, wouldn't want to seem rude and uncaring. He was silent for a while before letting out a rather heavy exhale.

“To be honest, when you left, I wasn't myself. I went insane. I went crazy, I was mad. I cried every single day. I can't accept the fact that you left me. But then I remembered I was the one who left first. I remember Seokmin telling me how sad and heartbroken you were. Even at that time, it must have been very heartbreaking for you too, wasn't it?” Wonwoo said, his voice was soft and soothing and you missed it so bad. You were silent, so he continued.

“I'm sorry that I didn't notice you were in pain. I'm sorry that you had to go through all those painful moments alone. You were so small, but you're so strong at the same time. Seokmin told me that you protected me with your body that day too. Thank you, for being so brave, Y/n” he added, his voice faltering, dark eyes glimmering with unshed tears under the lights. He reached out to give your hand a squeeze, and immediately, droplets of tears fell on his knuckles when you looked down to see how easily he covered your smaller hand in his bigger ones.

Wonwoo almost wants to pull you towards him and give you kisses until you calmed down. You were whimpering sadly, like you're in pain but he had to settle with just squeezing your tiny hands for comfort.

“I'm going to the toilet, please excuse me” you stood up abruptly from your seat to leave the hall in search of a washroom. You left your clutch bag on the table so Wonwoo took it to bring it to you.

–

“Why are you doing this?! She's your sister!”

“It's not about my sister. It's about you! Stop dragging her into this!”

“What about me? Why can't you understand that I don't want him? I love you! And I know you do too,”

“No! Why are you settling for someone like me?! Wonwoo is a good guy, he can take good care of you, you two can be happy together–”

“We can't! We've tried this for almost a year, Jisoo. It won't work. Our hearts won't let us be together. I don't want him and he doesn't want me too. He loves someone else and you know that too!”

You froze when you heard Jisoo's name. You turned around to see Wonwoo behind you with your clutch in his hand. He had a sullen expression on his face. You turned back to confront the arguing pair, your eyes widened when you saw your brother.

“Y/n why– how are you here?” Jisoo stuttered, his eyes not believing what he saw in front of him.

“Why?” You asked., trying your hardest to stay calm despite your almost leaping out of your chest.

“Why what? What are you saying?” He questioned.

“Why did you say ‘why are you settling for someone like me’? What's wrong with you?” You retorted fist clenching at your sides to hide the fact that you're still shaking at the sight of your brother.

“Everything is wrong with me! You out of all people should know that. You didn't remember what I did to you? To your friends? To my best friend?” He asked.

“Mom told me you've been reflecting on yourself, going on therapies and you've been doing so well. So what's with you degrading yourself like this?” You gritted out. Jisoo was taken aback that you've been keeping up with him through your mom. He didn't think you'd care about him anymore after what he did to you. He thought you'd hate him.

“I don't deserve to be loved anymore after what I did to my baby sister, Y/n” he croaked, trying to hold back his tears.

“Who said that? These people know you're trying, I know. So what else matters?”

“Y/n…” Jisoo called, taking a step towards you which you responded by jumping back involuntarily, startled.

“You're still afraid of me,” he frowned.

“I- I do. But it doesn't mean that I hate you. I don't. And you're still my only brother. But give me some time to be able to be near you again. So don't do that, don't push the people who love you away. You've suffered enough” you rushed to answer. Jisoo's frown melted into a soft smile. His hand reached out to hold Yul’s, squeezing it softly.

“Do you still love him?” Jisoo asked you. You were silent for a bit and you could hear a breath hitched from behind you.

“I do. Even after all these years, all these mess and pains. I still love him very much. Even if I tried dating other guys, I only ended up breaking their hearts because I couldn't let him go. Even if he doesn't love me anymore, I still do” you breathed, the tears that had stopped a while ago coming back, wetting your cheeks.

Your brother stared at the person behind you, a soft and apologetic smile pursed on his face.

“You have your answer,” he said. Immediately, that person is intertwining his fingers with yours, tugging you along with him to who knows where. You arrived at the parking lot, and before you could comprehend anything, Wonwoo is shoving a helmet on your head, buckling it securely. He then zipped up a leather jacket around you that he stored under the seat of his big motorbike.

“Hop on,” he called out, staring at you with shiny and hopeful eyes but you're not entirely sure if your dress tonight is made for bike riding but who cares about that when you have gleaming kitten eyes in front of you.

Wonwoo made you wrap your arms around him securely after you finished tucking your skirt so the fabrics won't get caught in the rims.

“What the fuck!! Wonwoo, too fast!” You screamed as he zoomed away through the night, passing buildings and trees. You're not sure where he's taking you but you just got to trust him. You ended up in another parking lot, this time it was in an apartment complex.

It was somewhat familiar, maybe you have been here before but you’re not remembering it clearly. But then it came back to you in slow motions, as Wonwoo guided you through the hallway towards his apartment. He let you in as you took hesitant steps, removing your heels at the doorway as he shuffled inside, turning on the lights to illuminate the dark apartment. It was just as you remember, the change being he has more shelves now and there’s cat towers, box houses and playpens.

“I’m home,” he said and a bunch of furry little kids, three to be exact– surround him in an instant. They were all black. He immediately took a seat in the middle of the living room to let those kids hover around him, asking for attention. A curious little one sneaked on you, sniffing at your legs who was still standing awkwardly at the doorway. A thought appeared in your head and you looked at Wonwoo who only smiled as if he understood what you were thinking.

“Are they Mong’s family?” you asked, remembering the black cat that you picked up from the street on your way home from school back then.

“Yeah. One of them was her child. The other two, I adopted them 3 years ago,” he explained. You looked around, for a sign of Mong, thinking she might be sleeping or hiding as she’s a senior already.

“Mong had passed. Last week. She had missed you terribly ever since you left, barely survived when she was delivering, only one of her litters survived, who are looking at you right now. We stayed together comforting each other these whole time but I think she needed to rest now. I kept her ash after cremation in case you’d want to see her when you came back,” he says, standing up to take your hand and tug you towards the glass shelf next to his TV. he showed you the small urn that kept your beloved pet’s ashes and the small memorial space he made for her.

“I’m sorry I was so late…” you croaked, choking up on your tears again.

“Since when have you become such a cry baby? My Y/n was very brave back then” he chuckled, teasing you as he pulled you into his warm embrace. You love the way he called you as ‘his’, your heart fluttering in your chest. Inhaling his musky scent, you let your head rest on his broad shoulder.

“It’s you. For me, it’s still you. The one for me, it’s still you. It has never changed, after all these time, no matter how far apart we are, for me it’s still you. Even when you weren’t here with me, the way I live resemble you. I was able to be brave because you taught me to, and that I knew you’ll come back, eventually. I won’t let you go anymore, not anymore, ever. I love you, Y/n. i love you very, very much. Will you please be mine again?”

He was hugging you so closely to his chest, letting you hear his frenzied heartbeat, large hands at the small of your back and one your nape. You were silent because you’re basking in his warmth but he mistook it for disagreement so he pulled away, to look at you, panic in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for proposing like this, I promise I’ll buy you rings, I’ll buy you a house, a car if that’s what you want, anything, can you please let me be yours again? I promise I’ll bring you a ring next time, tomorrow even! Please be mine–” he rambled, eyes looking everywhere until you squish his cheeks with your hands. His eyes blinked in confusion.

“Nonu, calm down!” you laughed softly at his panicked state, your eyes crinkling. Thumbs gently caressing his handsome face as you stared at him. Wonwoo calmed down when he saw the look in your eyes.

He realized you weren’t planning to go anywhere anymore, that you're right there, in front of him, ready to listen to whatever he has to say. Not moving even an inch away from his hold. You're there, with him, at last.

The dam to his waterlines broke, clear droplets streaming down like waterfalls. The relief washing his form to know that you're finally there, in his arms is beyond his imagination. He couldn't utter how happy he is at the moment, how grateful he felt.

“It's still you” he choked out, pulling you flush against him, face hiding in the crook of your neck. Hands resting on your hips, he let out shuddered breaths, before wrapping his arms tighter around your torso, engulfing you fully in his warmth. You curled your own set of arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair on his nape while your other hand patted his back comfortingly.

“It's still you for me too. I love you, Wonu. I'm all yours. Has always been and will always be,” you whispered into his ears. He pulled away again to stare at you, your eyes twinkling under the dim lighting of his living room. You wipe away his tears with your thumb, cooing at how cute he looked, like a lost kitten and he pouted, before a smile crawling across his features again. He nuzzled his nose with yours, slowly leaning and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, sealing the vow of love you shared.

He misses this, misses your touch and your lingering scent floating around him, burning his skin. Before he could deepen the kiss, you pulled away in a hurry, scrambling to find your clutch bag that you've forgotten.

“What's wrong?” He asked, tone heavy with concern as he eyes your form crouching down on the floor to pull something out of the bag. His eyes widened when he saw a black velvet box with matching rings in it. The design was simple and elegant but he could tell how much thought you put into it. To say he was impressed was an understatement, because it was beyond that. You never fail to amaze him.

“I did say I'll come back to you again when the time is right. So, I've been preparing these for almost a year and got this custom made to our sizes and designed it according to our preference. But you were planning to get engaged with someone else?! I almost threw it in your face!” you say before ended up grumbling cutely at him, a pout on your lips.

He laughed at you, no wonder you were trying so hard not to glare at Yul when she came to him earlier. Instead of being disappointed, you were actually mad that someone tried to take him away from you. This side of you has always been amusing to him.

“Why are you laughing? Did you not see how close she was standing next to you? Are you sure you deserve this? Or, I will return it to the store later–”

“We love each other right? We just sealed our vows with a kiss. Am I not the rightful lover of yours? I wanna be yours, so you should put a mark on me so that today's incident won't happen again. If it did, you can just give them your hardest glare, babe. You looked so hot earlier,” he snickered, arms coiling around your waist.

“Are you playing with me right now?” You eyed him suspiciously. He grinned lopsidedly, before shaking his head, then planting kisses all over your face.

“I'm all yours, baby. But, I'll buy us our rings next time. I can't let my baby be my provider even though I know you're more than able to afford it now. But, give me my chance to pamper you like a spoilt princess you deserve to be” he coos. You finally laugh, finding it ridiculous how you're all tears earlier and all of sudden, bickering like you used to be out of jealousy and adoration. He smiles when you slide the ring onto his ring finger and he does the same to you, ending it with a kiss to your ring finger.

You kissed again, passionately this time, with a promise to stay together through life, never running away from each other again. Promising to still be each other's lover until the end of time.

-Fin-

[abibliophobiaa]

a little blurb about babys first halloween? from daylight?

baby blurb from the ‘daylight’ universe, wherein one night stand on halloween changes everything.

dad!eddie munson x mom!reader

——

“I can’t believe you made our baby dress up as a rat,” you grumbled, adjusting the little hood on your daughter’s more-mouse-than-rat costume. A gummy smile greeted you, something she’d only recently started doing. “Eddie, are you almost ready? Chrissy and Steve will be here with Melody soon.”

“One second, trying to recreate the magic of the night we met, you know? Needs to be perfect.” He thundered down the hall to where you stood in the kitchen, Elena curled into your side. “Minus the making of party favor number two, obviously.”

“Party favor number one needs to be sleeping through the night and walking before I even consider it,” you teased, grinning into a kiss as your “Westley” leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips.

“We had to stay on theme,” he argued, in reference to the baby rat/mouse on your hip. “And she’s the cutest little ROUS I ever did see. Isn’t that right, Elena?”

Her reply was a coo, and you watched as Eddie’s heart melted all over again for his little girl. Smitten, he was absolutely smitten with her and didn’t care who knew it. His hands reached out to curl beneath her arms, drawing her up and out of your hold and into his, where she immediately tucked herself into like it was her favorite place in the world to be.

You understood completely — the cradle of Eddie’s arms, the feel of his chest beneath you at night everything you could have ever dreamed of.

She was your daughter, after all.

And had her father wrapped around her tiny little finger from the moment she entered the world.

“Although…” you trailed off, eyes roaming over Eddie’s form in the same costume he wore the night you met him. That mask tied around his head, the tight pants hugging his thighs, the tunic tucked into them, the leather boots and gloves. Heat simmered in your belly, and lower, the burning behind your eyes making Eddie’s jaw tick.

“There are young eyes and ears here,” Eddie warned, leather gloved hand curling around your waist to tug you in close, “need I remind you?”

He paused, kissing his daughter’s still semi-wobbly head as she shifted against him, nearly thumping against his cheek. “Later, sweetheart. You know how much I liked seeing that dress on the floor last time.”

He winked, and heat flooded your chest and cheeks, heart thrumming at the mere notion, disrupted by the insistent knocking at the front door.

——

Halloween looked a lot differently this year, you realized, walking beside Eddie as he pushed the baby’s stroller along the bumpy Hawkins streets.

Instead of parties with blaring music, you paused to give Elena a bottle while Steve and Chrissy helped Melody hobble up to house after house, coming back squealing every time with her spoils of trick-or-treating.

Instead of sipping drinks at a table with Eddie as he danced his way into your heart, he leaned over to draw you in for a kiss, clutched your hand in his, whispered he loved you every chance he got.

Different, and yet perfect, your heart light as Elena babbled from within her stroller, grinning up at her dad as Chrissy and Steve skipped back over as a little trio, the three of them dressed as Woody, Bo Peep, with Melody in a makeshift Slinky dog costume.

“‘Lena!” Melody squealed, practically climbing up Eddie’s thigh in order to look over at her tiniest best friend.

Eddie grunted, hoisting the little girl up onto his hip, blowing a raspberry into her cheek when she leaned down to hand a rattle toy to the currently cooing little one.

“Melody, ask Uncle Eddie please,” Chrissy admonished, pinching her brow. “Poor Uncle Eddie is going to run out of arms soon.”

“Huh?” you asked, pulling your eyes away from the very attractive sight of the man you loved with one (now bared, since he got warm) tattooed arm curled around your daughter’s stroller, and the other filled by a toddler.

Steve grinned. “In about seven months soon.”

“No way!” you shrieked, arms curling tight around Chrissy’s neck, wide smile pressed into her neck.

“Congratulations,” Eddie said, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

So, yes — Halloween looked quite different this year. But different could also mean perfect, and standing there on that busy sidewalk, with your best friends, and the two loves of your life, you realized it was just that.

And later, after Elena had gone to sleep down the hall, Eddie made good on his promises to reenact the night you met — your dress discarded at the edge of the bed, where it remained as he showed you over and over and over again just how much he liked it.

——

[filmbyjy]

COLLIE DUTY

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

THIRTY - layla the puptress

WARNINGS: none :D just Layla being a good girl🥹

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

Why were you so nervous?

Your hands trembled as you scanned through the most appropriate outfit you could find to just ‘casually’ hang out with jake. Which was weird to say considering he is still your boss.

Oh god, he’s still your boss…This was so wrong!

Maybe it was because you two almost kissed which made you forget he was your boss. Either ways, this wasn’t right but Jake was expecting you so you had to go over. As per usual, you made your way past the community gate and parked right outside of Jake’s house. Mrs.Matilda wasn’t at the porch so you assumed she must be having her afternoon nap.

You could feel the way your hands were starting to sweat. The nerves getting to you the closer you stepped onto Jake’s porch. You clicked on the doorbell. You nearly winced at the loud (fancy high end) doorbell he had, like a complete horror movie kind.

The black haired boy opens the door, a cute smile adorning his face. As he was about to say something, Layla perches at your legs and tries to somehow climb at you. Which was impossible considering how big of a dog she was.

“Layla, (name) is our guest. We don’t climb our guests.” Jake warns the puppy. The small whimpers Layla gave out was obviously hurting Jake’s heart so he gives a small ruffle to her fur and turns to look at you.

“Sorry, she’s umm…really excited to see you.” He says as he scratches his nape in shyness/awkwardness.

“is Layla excited to see me or are you excited to see me?”

“umm…both? god, I’m sorry.” Jake groans.

you chuckled, “it’s fine. this is our first time actually hanging out causally. usually, I would be over to puppy-sit Layla.”

“oh, right. wanna order something to eat? unfortunately, as you know…from jay, that I have zero idea how to cook.”

“sure, why not.”

This was very awkward…

You were sure Layla could feel how awkward it was because she started getting a little rowdy. Just as you sat down, she jumps onto your lap and starts licking your face.

“Layla.” Jake warns her a little. The puppy doesn’t stop until you were smiling genuinely. Jake pats the empty spot beside him to get Layla to sit next to him but she doesn’t listen.

She only whimpers trying hard to get you to feel comfortable. Ah if only she understood how hard it was to act around your boss who you were pretty sure knew about your crush on him. Maybe she knows.

“I’m sorry about her, I have zero clue why she’s acting this way. She usually listens to me very well.” Jake apologises.

“it’s alright.” You held Layla close and hugged her. She calms down a little. Her heavy breathing dies down due to her excitement. “She’s just really good at reading emotions sometimes.”

Jake tilts his head. He didn’t understand what you meant but it’s fine. Maybe when the time comes. For now, he could only hope for you to actually notice him making a move.

Or was it too quick? Was he moving too fast? Oh god.

Jake was internally panicking. Why was he so nervous around you? You were his secretary for 4 years now, he shouldn’t feel scared or nervous. It’s not like you were going to bite him.

Just as jake opens his mouth to utter something, his phone rings. He looks at you apologetically and goes to answer the call. You were waiting for him. It took longer than you expected and so curiously got to the best of you.

“Dad, no. I am not marrying her. She’s not the woman I like. What? What do you mean, I have no choice? That doesn’t make any sense. Yeah, I am growing old but I want to find a woman I like to marry. Not be arranged to marry.”

You felt sad. Well not for yourself but for jake. Why is it that rich young people always have to be arranged for marriage. You couldn’t help but wonder. The way jake paced back and forth while on the call with his dad only led you to do one thing…

“baby?” you called out. Jake turns around in shock. “you were taking too long, even Layla was getting riled up.”

You looked down at Layla and she seemed to get the note. She whimpers a little at jake. Her tail drooping and wagging slowly. “You said you would take 5 minutes…it’s been almost 15 minutes. I was worried sick.” You jutted out your lower lips, giving Jake a small pout.

Jake was frozen, he couldn’t say a single word. All he heard was his dad blasting him questions and demanded answers. However, that went a complete blur since his brain sort of short circuited.

Did you just call him baby?

“Sim Jaeyun.” His dad on the call says in a stern voice. Jake finally gets back from his little moment. He felt his face heat up.

“yes, dad?”

“who was that?”

“umm.”

“don’t ‘umm’ me. was that a girl? or more specific, was that your girlfriend?”

“well…she’s umm…” Jake looks up at you. “yeah…”

“shes my girlfriend.”

a/n: OOOOOOOOOO THE SPICE🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

taglist[open]: @svarcq @wooonkies @ajayke-reads @peachysunooooo @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @lunakua @bubblytaetae @aureliaxuuu @nikiluvr16 @sngvhs @watermelon-sugars-things @bldelaine @enhaz1 @yeoungie @heart4hees @mimimovv @enczen @enhastolemyheart @woon2u @kyanmeai @4townn @skzenhalove @s00buwu @ce1ight @markleepooh @sparklingsjy @rizzshimura @bluxjun @beomgyusonlywife @jyndre @blamemef0rit @fanfangying1304 @kwiwin @heart4hees @luxurystark-jackson @yunjardi @ioszzn @mrowwww @hyhees @25dejulho @neoculturewhat @wtfhyuck @dianzed @143lele @ajybeo @teddywonss @nyfwyeonjun @alwayswook @shinrjj @manooffline @heavenhannie @bmnyy17 @jayujus

[shannankle]

DFF, Found Footage, Technology, and the Real

Okay so I've been slowly looking into horror and technology since watching Shadow, and now DFF has me going down a related research spiral. So let's call this a sibling post to my Shadow technology series (which I am slowly working on I promise).

I just thumbed through a great book on found footage horror and a few other pieces on technology and wanted to use these as a lens to think about DFF and how it's navigating a number of themes including the distinction between reality and fiction.

DFF draws on the concept of found footage films like The Blair Witch Project. Even if DFF's main framing and style isn't found footage, the film the characters are working on is. And we get our most direct reference to a horror film when Jin references The Blair Witch Project--an iconic found footage film. So I want to start by thinking about the Blair Witch Project.

Part 1: The Blair Witch Project and DFF

Part 2: Paranormal Activity, DFF, and the Myth of the Real

Part 3: Films within Films, Surveillance Technology, and Other Connections (Man Bites Dog, Cabin in the Woods, Shutter)

Part 1: The Blair Witch Project and DFF

While found footage horror doesn't purely originate with the Blair Witch Project it certainly rocketed the concept into the popular zeitgeist. I watched the film for the first time this week, and while it didn't scare me*, I could easily see how influential it would've been at the time. The media landscape looked very different in the late 90s, and the film's marketing deliberately played up the idea that this was real footage in a way that simply couldn't be done today with our current media landscape and familiarity with the found footage genre. We're now much more familiar with fakelore as a concept in general.

*The scariest part of watching was the censored subtitles! Stop that please! They seriously were replacing things like "Oh, fuck" with "Oh, boy." I also got a car add about going out to enjoy national parks, and how they can be accessible to Deaf people, which was an interesting moment of double irony.

In her book Found Footage Horror Films: Fear and the Appearance of Reality, which I will be citing quite a bit in this post, Alexandra Heller-Nicholas notes that the Blair Witch Project came out at a time when amateur films were still relegated to home videos but entering public viewing through shows like America's Funniest Home Videos. The style was thus associated much more closely with trying to capture reality than tell a fictional story. The marketing played into this heavily--for example: using the actors' names for the characters, circulating missing persons flyers in areas where the film was being shown, and creating a website that gave background on the Blair Witch myth and information on the "missing" trio of amateur filmmakers. I chatted a bit with @slayerkitty who saw it in theaters. She explained how part of what made the film scary at the time was how real so many people thought it was and the tension of being in the audience.

TBWP and DFF Similarities

Let's start by going over some of the ways DFF might be directly pulling from the film or making homages before jumping into what I think are probably the more significant thematic connections with found footage.

Myths and an Ambiguous Antagonist:

The Blair Witch Project is set against the backdrop of a local myth about a witch in the woods. Three young adults (Heather, Josh, and Mike) go to make an amateur documentary about the witch, get lost in the woods, and are then hunted by an unseen presence. We get information about the myth through interviews with locals and a book Heather reads aloud briefly called The Blair Witch Cult. We learn about the slaughter of 5 men (which is described almost like a ritual), disappearances and deaths, and a man who was compelled by the witch to slaughter children. Similarly in DFF we have our Janta cult, which slaughters people in the name of a supernatural or spiritual force. Now I'd say this could be a nod to TBWP but it also draws on plenty of other ghosts stories and urban legends about the woods. I'm sure there are also particularly Thai valences as well beyond just being Buddhist on the surface.

Like the trio in The Blair Witch Project, the group in DFF goes into the woods to film--though they aren't traipsing through the woods, and the horror they're filming is a story of their own creation. In the present, however, the horror becomes much more than fiction, just like in TBWP. In the film, we see and hear signs that something or someone is following the trio but it's ultimately unclear if it's supernatural, locals scaring them, or them slowly cracking and turning on one another. In DFF's opening episodes it's likewise unclear if what's happening is being caused by a person, hallucinogens, or something supernatural.

Maps and Marketing:

TBWP also shows the characters turning on one another, arguing, and cracking in a way that fundamentally sabotages their survival. At one point, Mike reveals that he threw their map, their only lifeline, into the river. This is paralleled in Fluke turning away their transport and means of leaving. The map is an important focus in the film. We see Heather orienting the group and insisting she knows where they're at, while Mike insists they're lost. This culminates in them losing the map as things start getting worse. DFF slips in what I read as a potentially more direct reference to the film in episode 8. An odd new detail in the group's film where they rely on the hope of a map to get out before they're attacked by the masked killer again.

Another potential similarity to draw on has more to do with the outside marketing of TBWP. Interestingly it was marketed to appear like an indie film despite having pretty extensive funding. This makes me think of the group's film in DFF. This is meant to be a student film but they received a huge boost via Por's dad giving them extra money for a camera.

Smoking and Being Alive:

One other parallel I find interesting is the emphasis on smoking. To be fair TBWP is probably not the first or last horror film to have people smoke (the pot head is a character trope of it's own), and I was likely primed to notice because we already had "Tan smokes and has asthma" on our list of clues for DFF. Now clearly the writers of DFF are smart and are using Tan/New smoking in plot relevant ways. These details feel purposeful to the story they're crafting. But let's briefly look at how smoking shows up in TBWP.

The characters all smoke and drink alcohol. As they get lost and the days tick away they run out of food and smokes. Josh has moments that could be attributed to withdrawal where he laments that they're out of cigarettes. However, after he disappears, Mike finds some remaining cigarettes at the bottom of one of their bags. Mike comments "We're still alive cause we're smoking." For him, it signals even if briefly that they are still alive, that they're surviving.

But in DFF, smoke seems to be attached to death and dissociation. We know that New is a smoker, something he perhaps picked up in England. It starts then as a sign that he has a life, one outside of being Tan. Yet it's that very life, being abroad, that led him to be so far from Non when he disappeared. For New, his life is now tinged with guilt and loss. As @syrena-del-mar noted here, there are moments where he forgets he is supposed to be New. But the smoking becomes his one reminder that "New" is still alive.

Yet this reminder turns more and more painful. Under the exterior of Tan, he is haunted by New, the brother who didn't make it in time. And this spirals further when his mother and father die. Each time he's a step closer but still too distant to stop their deaths. At this point, he starts getting high to a dangerous degree--dissociating, hallucinating, torturing himself with visions of Non. When Phi steps in we have a parallel moment to Phi stopping Non from taking pills. Smoking turns from a sign of life to one of death as New tries to commit suicide, telling Phi "I don't want to live anymore." And New takes this further when he drugs the rest of the boys. Perhaps he didn't intend it to go so far, but he certainly is happy with the result. His drugs, his smoke have caused fear and death, rather than hope and life.

Except for the map I feel like most of these parallels can as easily be chocked up to direct inspiration as they can be attributed to both pulling on a similar well of genre conventions. What I find more interesting is the thematic conversation TBWP brings to the table for DFF.

TBWP and Thematic Resonances with DFF

Filtered Reality:

In her work on horror, Brigid Cherry remarks that The Blair Witch Project is "about the way in which technology gets in the way of seeing" (qtd in Heller-Nicholas 23). Heller-Nicholas further notes how the camera is constantly in contention with the audience's desire to look at what we want to see. In the film itself, one of the characters even remarks that looking at the world through the camera is "like a filtered reality" because you "can pretend everything isn't exactly like it is."

This looking but not seeing resonates to me with Jin. He looks at Non through the camera, seeing him as innocent, in need of protecting. But there's so much he doesn't see about Non, including the reality of poverty. Jin's perfect view of Non breaks at the moment he sees Non with Keng. But as Jin's filtered vision of Non cracks, he adds a new filter. He frames Non as a slut, someone guilty in his mind, at least in the he heat of the moment. So he records him. In doing so, he papers over the nuances of the situation, that it is SA and that there is so much of Non's life that is outside of Jin's lens.

After Non's disappearance Jin doesn't stop using his camera lens to view the world. In episode 9, he watches the others play soccer and then Phi through his camera. He is pretending nothing happened just like the rest of the group, but for him to do that he has to filter his reality. And just like with Non, Jin isn't able to see the full story around Phi from this small frame of a perspective.

I also think it's worth noting how the show, especially in the flashbacks tends to use strong framing (I note some of this in episode 5 but it persists strongly at least up until episode 9). While they aren't using a found footage style, there's still a sense at times that the camera is limiting our view as it closes in around the characters. It's as if the camera frame becomes hyper-visible, similar but not exactly like in found footage. I'm not entirely sure how to read this just yet, but it feels appropriate for both a mystery and for a story so deeply invested in perceptions. There's a strong focus on what is made visible and what is rendered invisible by the characters, by the story structure, and by the frame of the camera itself.

Gender, Space, Control:

In her discussion of TBWP, Heller-Nicholas discusses the gendered dynamics of the film and how scholars have read the film as invested in the horror of female control. This is captured in two ways. First in the way the woods as a space become imbued with the horror of the Blair Witch (pulling on a tradition of witches being women), and thus the feminine. Second, in the way that Heather, who is the director of their film, leads the group to folly. Scholar Linda C. Badley, has argued that "Heather represents a serious breach in having taken possession of the conventionally male--and often murderous--gaze" (qtd. in Heller-Nicholas 108). Heather thus enters the domain of the typically masculine and the results are disastrous.

I find it interesting to compare DFF with TBWP in this respect because they've taken a genre that often is infused with binary gender dynamics and given us all men, and predominantly queer men. This is obviously a dynamic of BL, but it's interesting to consider how this plays with the themes of gender that often proliferate in horror. This is a much broader topic, and @brifrischu and I are currently reading through Carol Clover's seminal work Men, Women, and Chainsaws so I wager we'll have more to add to the discussion at some point.

But let's look at a few things. First, if the Blair Witch imbues the woods as a space of feminine horror, DFF paints the woods as masculine. After our cold open, we are introduced to the group as they ride into the forest via Por's narration about the legend of Janta. The subtitles at the very least, refer to Janta using masculine pronouns. I don't want to assume that Thai gender coding and dynamics are identical to western ones but we might consider the way that the group of boys, packed into the back of a truck paint this as a masculine, homosocial space.

This is reinforced by the mention of Por's father. Por says "My dad warned me that, so I had to listen to him." This masculine authority is doubly highlighted by the campaign posters that literally mark his control of the space. To go any further the group must pass through these signs as a threshold to the space. Here we have not just masculinity being signaled but wealth, power, and control--something that contrasts distinctly with Non, for example, who has none of this. And of course, as we move through the story much of the horror comes from the actions of the core group of boys rather than the masked person we started with.

I find it interesting too that as Por tells the tale, it's White who comments "You almost had me scared." They then have a discussion about Tee liking to teaser "the younger ones." This focus on White as the most vulnerable is interesting given that he reads as perhaps the least traditionally masculine of the group*.

*Another reason why I'm excited to read Clover's work, is because she came up with the final girl formula in her discussion of gender in horror. I'd love to think about how we apply that in a queer context, especially given how so many of us have collectively felt White will be final girl. What might DFF be doing re: gender within the context of queerness, and what might it be asking of us as an audience?

The second aspect of this is the directorial gaze. In TBWP we have a woman taking on the control of a film project. This is important not just because Heather takes on a typically male profession but also because of the way films are imbued with what Laura Mulvey has termed "the male gaze." The view from which we see the world and the terms on which stories are told are traditionally male, while women are objects to be looked at--something Heather bucks and is punished for.

In DFF we have a similar struggle over authorship and directorial control. Instead of a strict division between feminine and masculine gazes, we get a struggle that is imbued with distinctions of class first and foremost. Por stands in as the more traditionally masculine director. We see the violence he does in trying to maintain control of the project. Of course he mostly does this through exerting his wealth. In contrast, Non doesn't fit the more aggressive masculine role, he comes from poverty, has mental illness, and is generally at the bottom of the social pyramid. His authorship comes into tension with Por's desires for directorial and social control.

There's a strong thematic exploration here of not just who gets to tell the story, but who's story gets to be told. In the end, the camera is Por's, his wealth and framing win out, and Non's authorship is buried. Much like the male gaze relegates women to objects rather than directors or authors, the only film that Non gets credit for is the sex tape in which he becomes objectified by the camera.

Of course we then have the fact that, in the present, Non's revenge script is being played out. There's a new director here, and clearly it's not entirely Phi (who tries his hand at directing in episode 1). Regardless of who is orchestrating these moves, we have an inversion of power happening. While we can't say for sure until the show has wrapped up, I suspect that DFF will lean into this inversion, rather than, like in TBWP, punishing this transgression of the norm.

That's all for now on TBWP, but certainly not all on DFF. I'm going to turn now to another important found footage film, Paranormal Activity, to unpack a bit more about DFF and it's themes.

Part 2: Paranormal Activity, DFF, and the Myth of the Real

In her work Heller-Nicholas notes how, after Paranormal Activity hit the screen, our view of found footage as a genre shifted. It was no longer seen as necessarily authentic per-se but a stylistic form. Heller-Nicholas puts it like this:

As these more popular found footage horror films made their way to the forefront of the genre, what became important was not that the audience necessarily believed that they were real, but rather that they offered a framework to knowingly indulge in a horror fantasy of the real. The solidification of a recognizable found footage horror style meant that horror audiences understood and identified them as such, defining a subgenre where an authentic style (rather than claims of authenticity itself) prevailed (Heller-Nichols, 128)

I won't go into smaller parallels between the film and DFF (partially because I haven't seen it, so if you have please add anything you notice), but I want to cover a few thematic resonances.

Heller-Nichols sketches out a few ways that critics have interpreted the film. First, as an allegory for materialism in the context of the US housing market crash of the time. Second, as a reflection on surveillance and the way changes in technology changed our relationship to cinema.

The first theme, materialism and consumption play out in the film through both the financial disparities of the characters and the more metaphorical spiritual/demonic possession that takes place. Both DFF (at least episodes 1-4) and Paranormal Activity take place in a luxurious house and themes of greed and materialism are present. In DFF, Por takes this role, flaunting his wealth and using it to get what he wants. Of all the characters, he is the one most willing to steal credit from Non. In Paranormal Activity the wealthy boyfriend even brags about buying a nice camera on only half-a-day's pay. Similarly Por brags about getting the nice camera for their film with his father's money.

One thing that set Paranormal Activity apart from earlier found footage films like The Blair Witch Project, was it's use of security camera footage. It relied on a new type of gaze that made the private public in the context of shifting surveillance technologies. While DFF largely centers itself around a film camera, it also includes other forms of technology in the background, including surveillance cameras. The CCTV cameras in Por's house come to mind as a significant way this technology comes into play. On the one hand, it helps Por identify that there is an intruder, and it helps the group find him when he is hurt. On the other hand, it encroaches on the private, capturing White and Tee having sex. This private vs public line is of course horrifically crossed when Jin records Non and Keng and when this video is circulated--surveillance right in our hands via cell phone.

Heller-Nicholas notes that post-Blair Witch, and by the time Paranormal Activity was released, audiences were much more genre savvy. She notes that the genre's "pleasures are not reliant on our gullibility, but rather our willingness to succumb to the myth of the real that these films offer..." (26). Relevant to DFF, I want to stress the "willingness to succumb to the myth of the real." I discussed earlier how Jin doesn't see Non; instead, he is happy to succumb to a myth of what could be the real Non.

But it's not just Jin who does this. Almost everyone around Non believes they see him correctly--as "Greasy", as a bad son, as a cheater, etc. This takes on even more public dimensions as the police enter the picture, as the sex tape circulates, and as the police report that he has run away with Keng. What people see and believe about Non, the narratives they tell about him, help reinforce people's existing understandings of the world--their prejudices, their assumptions, their myths of how the real world works.

And of course, film is at the center of this. The police believe that Non wasn't with the group when he disappeared because any footage he was in was hidden from them. Non is erased from the film (both in the footage and in terms of credit). The entire film premier is one big moment where everyone in the group is playing into this myth. It is taken as fact that Por's name being in the credits means this is his work--that nothing or no one of note was hidden behind the frame.

In her work Heller-Nicholas points to discovered manuscript fiction (such as Dracula) as a precursor to found footage horror. This connection highlights the way these works rely on the fiction that someone has organized the documents apart from the original author. The fictional framing of found footage as pretending to have an original author or filmmaker other than the actual director, hides the fact that The Hidden Character has in many ways literally stolen credit from Non. The genre expectations obfuscate the real story.

And then there's the sex recording (the only film Non gets credit for). We see a number of reactions to the recording from people in Non's life as well as those outside of it. The social media posts in particular stress the way Non's vulnerability is quickly slotted into pre-held narratives of sex and sexuality that refuse to see the reality of SA.

Non's SA is taken as truthful evidence of his consent via social media, while the film the group made is found footage but not seen as real. I think this marks an interesting change in the aesthetics and narratives we find "real." Horror and found footage are legible, a chance to engage in "a fantasy of the real". Meanwhile, the real story behind the film is erased, just like Non. Sadly, the most legible narrative of a young queer boy is that the phone footage is slutty or even hot. No one questions the authenticity of the recording, it is viewed as real. Ironically, compared to the horror film the group shoots, the sex tape is the real found footage film. Yet the "reality" it shows is filtered through interpretation. Non's reality gets buried.

Meanwhile, as an audience, we have the opposite reaction. We are slowly given insight into the discrepancy between Non's reality and the myths people hold. We keep asking why other characters can't or won't see the truth, why they won't help Non until it's too late.

DFF may not be found footage itself, but it is certainly interested in exploring and extending the thematic conversations about authenticity, reality, and narrative.

Part 3: Films within Films, Surveillance Technology, and Other Connections

Despite the fact that DFF references and dialogues with the found footage horror genre, it formally has more in common with films that center around technology and films within films. So I wanted to cover three more films that I think dialogue in interesting ways.

Man Bites Dog:

I'll start with Man Bites Dog since I have the least to say about it. It is a 1992 French mockumentary and black comedy, that Heller-Nicholas notes is a pretty significant and well-acknowledged precursor to the found footage horror genre. I'm not sure I want to get to deep into themes with this one. But I thought the parallels were interesting. A film crew decides to make a documentary where they follow a serial killer named Ben around only to be pulled into the crimes and become culpable themselves. That is, until Ben is killed and the film crew are taken out one by one by an unknown killer. We have a film crew that slowly gets involved and more culpable in wrong doings, just like in DFF we have the group working on a film while slowly becoming more and more culpable in harming Non. Meanwhile in the present both "film crews" are suddenly being hunted and picked off by an unknown party.

Cabin in the Woods:

Cabin in the Woods is a 2011 film that satirizes horror. A group of college students go to a cabin in the woods and are slowly picked off. The twist is that this is all orchestrated by an organization that is simultaneously surveilling and orchestrating their deaths to appease ancient deities. Many of the shots are done through drone's and other similar visuals to highlight the way the group is being surveilled. In a chapter from a collection on horror and gender, Hannah Bonner looks at Cabin in the Woods and a few other films that include surveillance and social media. She discusses the way technology in these films revolve around slut shaming young women. As she puts it, "It is the 'fact of being constantly seen', whether by high key government surveillance systems or by judgemental peers, that throws these characters into disarray or death" (89).

For Cabin in the Woods one thing Bonner examines is the way the film frames the group's "slut" character Jules. Jules and one of the guys go outside to get intimate. And the film moves between this scene and the men surveilling them who watch eagerly. Bonner reads this as a commentary on the violent gaze with which horror frames women. She makes a distinction, noting that "The voyeur is no longer just the audience, squirming in their seats from Michael Meyers's point of view as he tracks down his naked sister and her boyfriend in Halloween...now the audience as voyeur watches the voyeurs watch the surveyed" (90).

DFF makes a similar move by staging multiple instances of filming (a film within a film, or in this case a film within a show). We get a moment in episode 1 where Tee steps forward to block the group watching the CCTV footage of him and White. But this denial is in contrast to other moments. The show draws us most into being voyeurs watching voyeurs, when Jin films Non. I think it's important to note that both the moment that Bonner discusses in her chapter and this moment in DFF are sexual. In CITW, Jules is literally labeled by her surveillers as "the slut", a role she must fulfill and be killed for to appease the gods. Her lack of agency is made quite apparent. In DFF, Non is also slotted into the role of the slut by those around him, including Jin when he films the moment out of anger. While the show is not as on the nose about the whole thing, it's still clearly establishing a discrepancy between how Non is viewed by those around him due to the tape and the lack of full agency he possesses.

Moreover, by making us viewers voyeurs of this voyeurism, DFF creates a critique rather than simply a simulation of voyeurism. I am considering how this might not just be a commentary on sex shaming, but sexuality within a space where BL has historically crossed the line at times in terms of depicting SA. Or even the way that BL actors in Thailand are often expected to blur the line between the private and the public through fan service. It's interesting because clearly the show also doesn't shy away from letting us be voyeurs to sex. The show perhaps draws a distinction between representing queer sex and SA. But it's fascinating how this is mediated through voyeurism and the camera's gaze.

Shutter:

I couldn't wrap this post up without talking a bit about Shutter. Shutter is a 2004 Thai horror film (and probably Thailand's most well known horror film globally). It was part of the horror boom of the late 90s and early aughts in Thailand and Asia. If you throw Thai horror and cameras my way, I will think of Shutter. I watched it as part of some research I've been slowly doing on late 90s/early 2000s Asian horror and technology (writing meta for Shadow the series). It's a story about haunting that takes inspiration from the idea of spirit photography.

The film follows a couple, Jane and Tun, both photographers, who start seeing shadows and faces in their photos. Jane discovers that the ghost is a girl named Natre who Tun used to date in secret. They proceed by trying to figure out how Natre died (suicide) and how to get her to move on. Meanwhile Tun's friends suddenly start killing themselves. Ultimately Jane learns that Tun's friends raped Natre, and Tun not only didn't stop them but even photographed the assault at his friends' request (so Natre wouldn't snitch). Jane confronts Tun who expresses his regret, that he "never forgave [himself]." In the climax of the film Tun uses a polaroid camera to try and find Natre's ghost in real time before being driven out the window. Natre let's him live, in a near catatonic state, unlike his other friends because his betrayal hurt the most.

We once again come back to themes of voyeurism, SA, peer pressure, and culpability. The film has strong focus on the effects and betrayal of being a bystander, much like DFF does. Again this parallel is made quite strongly with Jin. Non may not have had feelings for him, but he is the kindest of the group, making his betrayal hit strongly. Jin filming Non and Keng has it's own nuances within DFF, but it certainly parallels Tun photographing Natre's assault. Similar to Non, Natre disappears in the aftermath, while Tun and his friends go on with their lives.

On a smaller note, both Tun and Jin use polaroids in what is potentially a reference to the film.

As the truth is revealed, Tun goes from a protagonist to a villain, and Natre goes from the horror of the story to the victim. DFF seems equally interested in the idea of how truths get hidden and justice withheld. It also gives us an inversion of the source of horror. By the time we end episode 5, the group we've gotten to know over four episodes are clearly villains in our minds, their cruelty becomes the horror rather than the masked killer who we come to empathize with (or at least root for to some degree). Now how this fully plays out in the end might shift things. But currently (up through episode 9) this is a horror story locating horror in power and cruelty rather than simply reinforcing a more conservative world view of the non-normative monster.

Concluding Thoughts

Dead Friend Forever is mixing genres in a smart and deft way. It's clear that the writers and director are well versed in horror and are ready to play with genre conventions to deliver their ideas and themes. Some of the connections I'm making here might be happy coincidence where the works speak to each other mediated by my own perspectives and interpretation. But I also believe that the show is building on themes and traditions in horror and found footage horror specifically in smart ways. From the framing of shots, to the way they deftly speak to themes of (in)visibility, power, reality vs fiction, agency, and sexuality (among others).

Through all this, DFF has been incredibly genre savvy. While found footage plays on the idea of reality, DFF shakes that up by throwing a who-done-it mystery our way. Like in The Blair Witch Project, for much of the show, we don't know what's real or what's in the characters' heads. DFF, however, picks up where TBWP stops. At the end of TBWP, the characters are likely killed off camera, the source of the horror still left up in the air. DFF gives us this ambiguity, but then pivots and makes the show a mystery to solve rather than locating the horror in ambiguity. This is because the horror lies elsewhere. Like in Shutter, the monster becomes the victim, our sympathies are played with, and we're left with a show that is as interested in social and political critique as it is in having fun playing with horror tropes.

Sources:

Heller-Nicholas, Alexandra. Found Footage Horror Films: Fear and the Appearance of Reality. McFarland & Company, 2014.

Badley, Linda. Film, Horror, and the Body Fantastic: Praeger, 1995.

Bonner, Hannah. “#Selfveillance: Horror’s Slut Shaming through Social Media, Sur- and Selfveillance.” Gender and Contemporary Horror in Film, edited by Samantha Holland et al., Emerald Publishing, 2019, pp. 85–99.

Cherry, Brigid. Horror. Routledge, 2009.

Shutter (film, 2004)

Cabin in the Woods (film, 2011)

Man Bites Dog (film, 1992)

The Blair Witch Project (film, 1999)

Paranormal Activity (film, 2007)

[celemilii]

NOT IN LOVE- FERNANDO ALONSO| 00;CUPID TEAM

WATTPAD | INSTAGRAM | MASTERLIST

warnings: curse words; in this universe Sebastian Vettel is getting divorce and starting dating Alessia (this is part from SHS saga on wattpad); english not being my first lenguage so my apologies if you see any mistakes :)

taglist: just tell me in the comments if you wanna be tagged in the following parts!

a/n: I hope you like this chapter!

⇚previous part next part⇛

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

2022

At a very young age I discovered that love is an illusion that, sooner or later, disappears without saying goodbye. It's just a mirage that shows how false it is when you get closer. I never understood how love can outweigh common sense and passion override logic, and how it's so disconcerting that no one else really knows how you feel when the only person you can trust with your back is to yourself, always. That's why when my intuition told me to send my resume to Mercedes, the Formula 1 team, without having any idea about the sport, I listened to it. Even when that didn't make the slightest sense.

I check my reflection in the mirror of the narrow bathroom in the Mercedes garage before heading back outside. There is a dress code that we must comply with when we come to the paddock. According to Mr. Wolff, we are the face behind the drivers, even when I am not involved in any way with them or the cars.

The clicking of my heels against the floor catches the attention of several of those present there, who turn to look at me strangely. The only ones I had had the opportunity to meet were the pilots and a few engineers who from time to time had meetings with Toto that I had to take care of.

"Mr. Wolff, I'm sorry to interrupt," I say in a strong voice, drawing the attention of the Austrian and the man I was with, who I believe is called Bono.

“Victoria, no problem. What's happening?” he crosses his arms and waits impatiently for what I want to say. The first warning I got as soon as I started working here was that Toto would try to intimidate me to prove what I'm made of, but he has no idea who he messed with.

“Interview with Sky Sports on 10,” notice, “with Webber and Chadwick,” pats the man's shoulder in farewell and tells me to follow him.

"Okay, this is what I want you to do today," he says as we leave the tent. “When you're in the garage, keep an eye on Roscoe…”

“Hamilton 's dog?”

“Yes, you have to take care of him. Besides…”

“With all due respect, I wasn't hired to be a babysitter, sir. I sort papers, schedule and remember appointments, I'll even bring coffee, but, as much as I love animals, I'm not anyone's caregiver.”

"It seems fair to me," my boss exclaims. “And you can tell me Toto, Victoria, that we are going to be together too long not to call each other by our names.”

"Of course, Toto," I say forcefully.

“Now, bring me a coffee like the usual ones for when the interview is over,” I look at him waiting for him to say what I want to hear and he seems to understand it. “Please.”

I walk away from the Austrian to look for wherever they sell coffee here.

I started working with Toto as soon as the year started, so we haven't been around for long. During pre-season I stayed at the England base because I was "not ready" to go to the paddock, as it seems I am now.

"Excuse me," I caught the attention of a girl who was walking around. “Do you know where I can buy coffee?”

"I'm looking for exactly the same thing as you," she tells me. “I've never been here.”

“Yeah, me neither, but my boss sent me to buy him coffee,” we started walking together almost without realizing it, so I guess we would look for it together.

“Your boss? Do you work here?”

“Yes, I am the assistant to the Director of Mercedes.”

“You are Toto's assistant!” she exclaims as if he had discovered the most interesting thing in the world.

“Are you a fan?”

“No, it's just... let's say I'm dating one of the pilots.”

“Oh, you're a wag.”

“No, my God! I hate when they say that. Besides, Sebastian and I are taking it slow,” Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian, which one was Sebastian?

“Sebastian... Vettel?" Fortune teller.

“Yes, exactly! By the way, I'm Alessia,” she introduced herself. “I'm already talking to you about my relationship and I don't even know your name,” I giggled at how nervous she had become and introduced myself as well.

“I am Victoria.”

“You are Spanish,” Alessia notes. “I like the accent. I am italian.”

“Oh, that's great.”

"Yes... I'm trying to learn Spanish," she says with excitement.

"I can help you if you need it," I offer.

When I left Spain, I left everything.

Friends, family, acquaintances, customs. It wouldn't hurt to have someone to talk to, someone who is in a similar situation to mine.

“Oh really!? I'd love to. Let's do this,” she says, taking her phone out of her bag, “save my number. We can go out if you want,” she smiles shyly at me and I nod. “There's Seb. Come let me introduce him to you.”

"Alessia, it's not necessary," I say as she drags me towards her boyfriend and his friend, whom I recognize from several advertisements they show on Spanish television.

His gaze crossed with mine and I didn't need words because I saw it all there.

Fernando Alonso

An idiot, a womanizer, who thinks he is better than anyone else just because he won two championships and because the national press idolizes him as if he were some kind of God.

I know I said I don't know things about sports but I don't live under a rock either.

Also, it's not the first time I've seen him. A few years ago, my ex-boyfriend and I went to a club where famous people used to go, to see if we could meet someone and, indeed, we did. Fernando Alonso with his hand under a girl's skirt in the middle of the dance floor.

A very good first impression.

"Mein Leben," the German exclaims when Alessia enters his field of vision and she laughs like a teenager in love.

“Vita mia,” greets the Italian. “This is Victoria,” she introduces me. “She is Toto's new assistant”

Sebastian barely looks at me when Ale greets me. He can't take his eyes off Alessia, who keeps talking about how we met by chance looking for coffee. The love in the blonde's eyes is evident, idyllic and I would even dare to say nostalgic. It looks real.

“The coffee shop is over there,” Alonso comes in, who doesn't take his eyes off me. “I'm Fernando,” he introduces himself.

“I know.”

“You are Spanish. A sports fan I guess," he says in a humorous tone.

“I can't be further away.”

"Wow, that's good too," he laughs nervously. He definitely wasn't expecting that answer.

"Alessia, I have to go," I warn her. “If when the interview ends, Toto doesn't have his coffee, he's going to get annoyed.”

"No, wait," the brunette man stops me.

“What's happening?” I ask confused.

“I…” he tries to find the right words while his hazel eyes merge with mine, as if he were looking for what he can't say in them, “nothing. I hope you find your coffee.”

[...]

I see Victoria go towards where I had pointed a few minutes ago wanting to go after her.

"You two have to help me," I ask the couple.

“To what?” asks my friend.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” I question before agreeing with them.

“No.”

“It's stupid,” supports Alessia.

"I didn't believe in it either," I admit, "but I just fell in love with Victoria.”

___________________________________

taglist:

@bellinghamsbitch

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: steve having 4 rabbits (all male) as pets bc he loves them. They are super rambunctious aside from his last one which he recently adopted from a shelter. But HE SPOILS THEM??? He refers to them as his kids???? The party doesn't know what kids he is referring to until they see him with his babies. Thats all just pure flufff

First of all, title on AO3 is from Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter because Steve loved that story as a child and that was the inspiration behind most of this. Second of all, this is ridiculous and fun. It's so very unserious. I cannot stress enough how much this is just absolutely silly. As with any of the stuff I write, there's some emotions and discussions of Steve's shitty childhood, but the rest is just some hilarity between Steve, Eddie, and Robin with a guest appearance of the party. - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve’s parents had never bothered with a pet, had never even thought about the fact that most kids got to have a dog or a cat or a turtle when they were young.

They didn’t think about how much Steve needed a companion of some kind.

It didn’t stop him from always playing with his friends’ pets, or stopping at the pet store after work sometimes to show some love to the ferrets nobody seemed to want. He volunteered at the animal shelter when he had time, always getting too attached to the dogs coming and going.

When he moved into a house with Eddie and Robin, they all agreed he could and should get a pet, as long as they could all agree on what it was beforehand.

The problem was, he knew he didn’t have time to commit to a dog, not with how often he was working and taking the kids where they needed to go and helping Eddie with his band. He knew Robin wouldn’t admit it, but being around cats for more than a few minutes left her stuffed up and teary-eyed. He didn’t really want fish, or anything that he couldn’t hold or cuddle with. Birds were out because they were loud and on his migraine days, even the tiniest hint of sound would make him nauseous.

He’d never even considered rabbits.

But on his way home from work on his birthday of all days, he passed a truck with a cage full of bunnies in the back.

He pulled over, not thinking about what he was doing, just knowing that he wanted to hold one.

Robin, who was in one psychology course at the community college, called it healing his inner child.

Eddie, who liked to get on Robin’s nerves as frequently as possible, called it being his inner child.

Steve, who loved them both very much, thought they were maybe both right.

“Can I hold one?” Steve asked the older woman who was sitting on the tailgate of her truck.

“Sure. You have any rabbits?” she asked as she grabbed one from the cage.

“No ma’am.”

“Lovely pets. Unfortunately, we didn’t know one of ours was a male and now we have about 22 of these suckers to get rid of. You got room for one?” she watched him carefully as he held the baby rabbit to his chest.

All of the rabbits were gray except for four, which were an off-white color with speckles of brown. Steve didn’t know how genetics worked, especially not for rabbits, but he knew they were unique.

“I got room for four.”

He didn’t.

Not really.

But he would make room.

The woman only charged him for two, said he was doing her a favor by taking four anyway. She gave him a bag full of some food pellets, but told him they would probably still prefer to get lettuce and other vegetables often.

“I guess I should think of some names,” Steve said out loud on the way home. “I should probably also warn you that I didn’t talk to Robin and your other dad about this yet. But they won’t mind. I can build you guys a home in the backyard! And during the winter, you can stay in the shed.”

He had it all planned out in his mind, and nothing would ruin it.

—------------

“How many?!” Robin exclaimed.

“Rabbits?” Eddie asked, surprised, but not quite as shocked as Robin.

“It’s four males. They’re still babies, but they grow quick. They’re pretty low maintenance, and they can live outside so you won’t have to worry about allergies or noise or anything. And they can eat a lot of vegetables and some fruit so I won’t have to spend tons of money on special food.”

Eddie cupped his cheek in his palm and smiled.

“You don’t have to defend your choice to us, sweetheart. If you’re happy, I’m happy,” he kissed him on the lips quickly before pulling away and giving Robin a look that said she better agree.

“I’m happy you found pets?” Robin said, still clearly unsure about it, but giving a genuine smile.

“Okay, now names!”

It only took five minutes for Eddie to excuse himself from that conversation to start working on their enclosure.

“Steve, you cannot name a rabbit Edward.”

“There are no rules when it comes to naming rabbits. If I want to name the one who doesn’t stand still after my boyfriend, then I will!”

It went on like that for nearly an hour as Steve took turns holding each of the rabbits, keeping them close to his chest and petting them, giving them all a little kiss on the head before he put them back in the box they were temporarily in.

Eddie came in not long after they finally settled on names, giving Steve a kiss on the cheek and grabbing a glass of water.

“So? What are their names?”

Steve picked them up one by one, showing them off as he spoke.

“This one is Marty, and this one is Hobbit, and this one is Bard, and this tiny little guy is Pierre. Robin insisted on it because the speckle on his face looks like a mustache and goatee.”

“I hate to say it, Stevie, but I don’t think I’m the father,” Eddie teased as he rubbed Pierre’s head.

Steve gently pushed Eddie’s chest, but smirked at him.

“Despite your best efforts, I don’t think actual children will be biologically possible for us,” he said as he put Pierre back in the box and picked the entire thing up. “Now, show me their home!”

—----------------

Steve was a natural caregiver, had always been one even when he was alone.

Everyone knew it, everyone loved it about him.

But no one had expected him to treat his new pets as his actual children, not even Eddie.

He knitted them sweaters.

“They have fur already, Steve,” Robin said.

“But they’re so cute in them!”

Robin and Eddie shared a glance as Steve handfed them some lettuce.

—----------------

No one expected him to also come home with a fifth one right before Christmas.

He was holding it against his chest, under his jacket, whispering to it.

“Stevie? Whatcha got?”

“Don’t be mad. He was dropped off at the shelter with a few puppies and they said that they couldn’t keep him. I couldn’t-” Steve’s sharp intake of breath made Eddie drop what he was doing and get closer. “We have room or I can make room. He’ll fit right in! I think he looks like a Frodo, don’t you?”

Steve unzipped his jacket and a completely white rabbit shuffled around so it’s head was nestled further in his shirt.

“Sure, Stevie. Hi Frodo, welcome to our home. Rent’s due on the first, lettuce is available for free, and bath days are every other Saturday,” Eddie said quietly as he petted the rabbit’s back.

—---------------------

The first time the kids held the rabbits, Steve hovered like a worried parent.

“Just relax, love. They’re being careful,” Eddie whispered in his ear.

“I know. I just don’t want one to get loose and end up hurt or stuck somewhere,” Steve said, keeping his eyes on a constant rotation between all five rabbits.

“Can we feed them?” El asked with a beaming smile.

“Yeah, please!” Will said excitedly.

“Sure. But everyone only gets to pick one thing so they don’t overeat and get sick,” Steve agreed.

Eddie watched as Steve continued to hover, physically biting back comments about the way the kids were feeding them.

Eddie could sense his anxiety getting to a boiling point, knew he would probably explode in a minute if he didn’t intervene.

“Alright kids! Time for us to put the rabbits up for the night. They like to cuddle before they sleep,” Eddie said, reaching for the closest one to him, Bard.

They slowly put them all back into their enclosure, and Steve stood outside of it for a moment making sure they were all okay.

They were still a bit over excited from being out of the cage, all except Frodo, who had never been excited about anything.

“I’ll take the kids home,” Eddie said as he kissed Steve’s shoulder. “Staying out here for a bit?”

“Yeah, just until they calm down a little. Tell the kids I’ll see them tomorrow.”

Eddie nodded once and made his way back inside.

“Steve isn’t coming?” Max asked.

“Nah, he’s making sure the little ones behave. Everyone ready?”

The kids looked at each other, then back at Eddie.

“He’s making sure the rabbits behave? What are they gonna do, steal a carrot from the fridge?” Mike asked.

“Tone, Wheeler,” Eddie reprimanded. “And everyone leaves Steve alone about this, got it? He’s being his inner child.”

“Healing his inner child,” Robin said from the couch, focused on her word search.

“Right, that’s what I said,” Eddie clapped his hands. “Kids in the van or you have to scoop the rabbit poop!”

A chorus of “ew, gross!” rang out as the kids scrambled to run out the front door and to his van.

“Can you make sure he comes in in a few minutes?” Eddie asked Robin. “He doesn’t have a jacket on.”

“Are you his boyfriend or his mom?” Robin asked, still not looking up from her word search.

“I’m gonna be your problem if he gets sick from sitting out there in the cold too long.”

“Fine,” Robin rolled her eyes. “But if he makes me bottle feed Hobbit again because he ‘won’t eat the pellets and he has to eat something’ I am locking him out there to become one of them.”

“Fine.”

Eddie glanced out the window of the back door, smiling to himself as he watched Steve talking to the rabbits, like he did every night.

Whatever they called it, Eddie was just glad Steve was getting something he’d always wanted.

[welcometogrouchland]

one thing i find interesting about Dana’s words about Caleb and Evelyn from the livestream is how she seems to center events from Evelyn’s perspective (she refers specifically to the "Evelyn and Flapjack" lore when the question prompting the discussion also named Caleb, tho I don't think that's like. A calculated decision, it might just reflect who she views as the most significant characters in the grand scheme of things)

it’s about what Evelyn was doing in gravesfield, why Evelyn liked caleb, how she first presented herself to him. it’s about her family that he married into, the Clawthorne family, blood members like Eda, chosen/adopted members, like King and honorary members, like Luz. That’s who the story really centers around, so it makes sense that when approaching this nugget of lore, they'd tackle it from Evelyn's POV.

But i just find it interesting bc it’s so unlike 90% of the fan content centered around that era. Like most of the things ppl make related to Evelyn and the Wittebros is usually set from one of the brothers perspectives (with a couple of exceptions! @/moonmeg’s comics and @/litfeathers various drabbles and dubs all have a good balance of Evelyn and caleb/philip perspective!). Obviously this is mostly bc we got the Wittebros lore first (all the way back in yesterday's lie) and because we know (marginally) more about them, people have been playing around with them for longer and with more material.

But I'm honestly really interested in Dana's version of the story! Especially considering it seems like Evelyn had much more agency in the story than we give her credit for. She's the one who went to gravesfield, reached out to Caleb, presumably taking either the romantic or platonic initiative and thus setting things in motion. Why? we don't know! Dana says Caleb seemed more reasonable than the rest of the population in gravesfield, that they bonded over flapjack like dog owners over pets, which is all very interesting when we know he was a witch hunter, implies a lot of interesting things about why he was doing that career and what his status in the town social climate might've been like, but that's where fan interpretation comes into play, so I digress.

(also, this is a tangent but I'm a big fan of Dana implying that Evelyn took initiative? We only have huntlow to go off of but generally speaking the show likes to subvert overdone or overly stereotypical m/f romance tropes- while not being too pointed about it and still leaving room for nuance and characterization- and I like the idea that if they had the chance, they would've done that w/ Caleb and Evelyn, with her being the passionate Romeo and him being the more longing, pining-maiden type in the relationship hehehe)

Point to all this being, I think it's very funny how we all got wrapped up in the mystique and intrigue of (Belos' biased, carefully crafted and incomplete) narrative of ~the tragedy of the brothers Wittebane~ bc he was our main source that we failed to consider that Evelyn, who fits the character archetype TOH likes to use as a focal/viewpoint character much more cleanly that either Wittebane (what with being a young woman, a 'weirdo' estranged from her home, a Clawthorne, etc), might've actually been the perspective we should've been looking at things from. Dana's based for this actually

[louloulemons-posts]

congratulations on 1k!!! could u do prompt 30 adopting a pet for eddie munson?? 🖤🖤

thank you for the request 🫶🏻

1k celebration prompts list

30 : ‘adopting a pet together’

W/Eddie Munson

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

you and eddie had been living together for a while now, you apartment had become home very quickly for the both of you.

everyday life together was something you easy jumped into, not having any bumps in the road - it just worked.

but sometimes it got lonely, you’d be out at work and eddie would be alone, or vice versa. and then there were times where you’d lay together and thing - wouldn’t it be great to have a dog lay with us too.

so you had decided on it, to go to the shelter, it was christmas time and you knew a lot of dogs needed a home, especially now.

walking hand in hand to the shelter, you smiled up at eddie as he opened the door for you, letting you duck under his arm.

“hi, how can i help you?” a woman smiled from behind the counter.

you returned the greeting with a smile, “we were hoping to have a look at your dogs.”

“you’re planning to adopt?”

“mhm, we are,” eddie nodded.

“great, have you got any ideas in mind. age, temperament, breed?”

“we were wondering if we can see the dogs you’ve had here the longest?” you said.

a grin broke into the woman’s face, “that’s very kind of you, i know who to take you too.”

leading you through a door you saw a few rows of kennels, yapping and barking coming from inside.

you and eddie chuckled seeing a small boy and his parents playing with a young labrador pup.

“she’s just down here.”

“how longs she been here?” eddie asked.

“around four months, we’re actually getting to the point where a staff member will have to take her or, the other option.”

you frowned, “poor baby.”

“is there a reason people won’t take her?” eddie asked.

“well, yes. it’s the way she looks more than anything. speaking on which, this is echo.”

looking in the kennel your heart melted, there sat a golden brown pit bull. a long scar of an old gash across her nose.

the woman nodded towards her, “people see that and think she must be vicious. we rescued her from some not very nice people.”

you nodded, and eddie spoke up, “could we meet her?”

“of course.” the kennel was unlocked and you and eddie went inside, being quiet not to startled her.

“hi pretty girl,” you cooed, offering your hand for her to sniff. she did so, tail wagging like a helicopter, eddie followed your actions, the pup had a smile like expression.

the pair of you sat down near the dog, allowing her to come over to you. she did so with ease.

“how old is she?” you asked, giving echo a fuss.

“we’ve estimated around 3 years old, she’s neutered and has had all her vaccines. she’s probably not the best for a home with another dog, just because of past experience

“she struggles being cooped up with them for long periods of time - she’s okay outdoors, it’s just when she feels trapped.”

“that’s okay, she’d been our first dog,” eddie said.

you smiled, echo basically climbing into your lap, head resting on your shoulder, having a good sniff at eddie.

“oh eds,” you said, wrapping your arms around her.

“she’s perfect right?”

“she really is.”

“would it be possible for us to adopt her?” eddie asked, the woman couldn’t stop beaming.

“of course, we have a lead and harness for you to take for her. leaflets for care at the front, i’ll need you to fill out some paperwork.”

you nodded egarly, the lady called over another member of staff, “could you please get echo ready to go home?”

the smile they gave each other was contagious, “of course i can, i’m so glad someone’s finally giving her a chance. come on sweet girl let’s get you ready.”

echo let out a sweet bark, allowing you and eddie to get up, whining slightly when you exited her kennel.

“we’ll see you soon sweetheart,” eddie comforted, giving her a pat on the head.

“if you follow me back to the desk,” the woman said, leading the way back through the kennels.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

the paperwork had been filled out and you’d grabbed so many leaflets so you could head to the store.

now you were just waiting for your girl, and with a small bark you knew she was on her way.

her tail was wagging like crazy her body was in a deep purple harness with matching lead.

you’d learned she was well trained too, didn’t bite, chew things she shouldn’t, potty trained, knew basic commands.

with a pull and bark she ran towards you, “hi pretty girl,” you smiled, kissing her snout, “you ready to go home?”

she was so excited , her whole body wiggling happily.

“i think that’s a yes babe,” eddie laughed.

“well let’s get our girl home.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

and that’s how your evenings went, lay in between eddies legs on the sofa, echo’s head lay on your stomach.

your hand lazily rubbing her back, eddie doing the same, your other hands linking.

this was the life.

[blue-sadie]

Friend Of A Friend

Santiago Garcia x Young Reader

Summary: being tess's best friend has its ups and downs but the best one being her dad's best friend

Warning: reader is 20, wall sex

Yn/3rd person pov

I smiled widely as I climbed into the car greeting them as I got in "long time no see yn" Santiago grinned as he turned to me I bite my lip blushing slightly "yea it has" I murmured.

He glanced at tess to make sure she wasn't looking before winking at me making my cheeks redder before he turned back to the front.

"Tess, yn Santiago here is picking you up from shopping ok I have a meeting so I won't be home intill late" Tom said looking at us through the review mirror "he just needs to remember that and not forget us for a girl" tess teased making them laugh.

I just grinned slightly when tess turned to me but I was kinda jealous I've always had a crush on Santiago since I was 16 I mean who wouldn't and there's been many times when I was around and the guys were to making fun of him about his hot informants.

He's always been kind to me and since my 18th birthday we've gotten a little closer when we're alone but nothing more then light touches, little flirts and playful winks, he never seems to cease to make me blush.

"Haha very funny there is none of that anymore" he chuckled making tess lean forward looking at him with wide eyes "has thee santiago gracia the player finally found the one" she squealed my heart stopped and my eyes fluttered.

He shook his head still laughing "honestly I want to but I don't think she feels the same" he murmured my hands wavered as I grabbed his seat leaning forward to see him "how did you meet her" I asked thankfully the hurt I felt didn't show in my voice.

"Uh" he paused thinking glancing to the side of him out the window "she's a friend of a friend" he grinned tess started guessing names of his informants as I bit the inside of my cheek and sat back against my seat.

We turned into the mall parking lot tess's rambling calming down as we neared the entrance "have a fun time girls" santiago laughed as we said our goodbyes I just nodded acknowledging him as I got out joining tess on the pavement she waved her dad goodbye and watched as they drove away "what shop to first".

-Time skip

I was browsing the different merch sections in hot topic waiting for tess has she tried stuff on through the corner of my eye I noticed one of the male employees watching me and following me into each row a few minutes I move.

"Can I help you with something" I asked ironic its supposed to be the other way around, I crossed my arms over my chest as I turned to him, he looked like a deer in headlights "i-i" he rubbed the buck of his neck nervously.

"I came to ask for you number" I cringed as he snuffled through his nose the sound almost making me gag "I have a boyfriend" I lied turning back to the shelf of items but he stepped towards me making me taking a step back.

"He wouldn't have to know" he spoke seductively it made me sick "no thank you" I huffed trying to leave but he caught my wrist pulling me to him he sweat smell making nose crinkle "let me go" I muttered.

What the two didn't notice was that tess was done with trying things on and saw the whole thing "hey santiago we need your help" that was all she had to say to make him speed his way over.

"I said no" I growled trying to pull my way out his hold but his grip only tightened making me gasp in pain "hey dick head" the man holding me turned his head only to get punched in the cheek by a red faced Santiago.

I stumbled to the ground as the employee released me "hey you ok" tess whispered as she feel to her knees beside me but my eyes never left santiago as he beat the creep up "i-uh" I couldn't find the words my heart was beating in my ears and my breath was shallow.

Santiago was stopped by security but released as they went over the footage and took the employee instead "come on girls" he panted urging us out and walked behind us silently "total guard dog effect" tess whispered leaning over to me but I didn't answer my eyes trained to the ground.

"Let's get you guys home" he muttered unlocking the car I took a seat in the back and just went on my phone only answering when they spoke to me directly.

"I'll see you Monday yn" my head snapped to tess who was out the car I didn't even realize we were at her house or that she was getting dropped off first, "come up front yn" he smiled turning to me, I hesitated before nodding and climbed out to get into the passengers seat.

He pulled out the driveway and headed down the street "how are you feeling" he asked briefly turning to me as we slowly pulled to a stop "i-i'll be ok" I murmured looking down to my wrist that was reddening slightly, santiago gently grabbed it and pulled it to his face laying a gentle kiss on it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get there sooner" he said slowly lacing his fingers into mine, my cheeks became red as a tomato as I looked at our intertwined hands "I should've gone with you guys" he said slowly bringing our intertwined hands the the middle console leaning onto it as he went back to driving as the light turned green.

"I should've killed him" he muttered but I squeezed his hands lightly making him release a breath "I'm sorry" he whispered "it wasn't your fault" I said looking ahead at the road infront of us "he needed to learn some manners" he laughed at my statement and immediately agreed "yeah he can't mess with my girl" santiagos laughed ceased as those words left his lips.

My eyes immediately snapped to his "w-what" I asked my heart beat slowly increasing "i-i didn't say anything" he stuttered a wide smile pasted on my lips something I knew about santiago is he would somewhat stutter when he's trying to cover his tracks or nervous "you called me your girl" I murmured my smiled still widening.

He sighed slowly laughing to himself "yea" he paused "I guess I did" I squealed internally and shifted excitedly but sadness took over as we turned into my street "so am I a friend of a friend" I murmured "yes you are" his words made a shiver run down my spine, he slowed the car down turning into my driveway "are your parents home" he asked leaning onto the steering wheel looking at my house.

"No their away for the weekend" I murmured making him smile "mind if I come inside" he grinned towards me making me clench my thighs as I felt myself dampen I nodded eagerly unbuckling myself quickly and he did the same, he followed me inside and as soon as he kicked the door close his lips were on mine and his hands were feeling up and down my sides.

"I've been wanting you for so long" I moaned against his lips as my fingers entangled themselves in his hair "I know you have" he murmured making me lightly tug at his hair, his hands tugged off our clothes before be pressed me up against the wall "I need you now" he groaned pulling away from my lips.

One of his hands felt up and down my slit making my eyes flutter and a pleasured gasp leave my lips "shit your already dripping" he smirked and slowly moved his dick up against me, he slid it up and down my slit collecting my wetness on him "fuck" he groaned and slowly pushed in his hands moving to cage me in by settling beside my head.

My hands tugged at his hair again and a struggled moan left my lips his cock was stretching me out so much "that's it, that's a good girl" he growled and slowly started to pull out and push back in, he watched my face intently only increasing the pace when he sees my eyes flutter in pleasure or hear my soft whines.

"So fucking good mi amor" he whispered leaning down to my neck pressing his lips to my skin sucking harshly "s-shit" I cursed my knees buckling he swiftly caught me and put his hands under my thighs and lifted me up his thrusts never ceasing.

My moans were fueling his desire more, he nibbled and nipped at my skin making my breath catch in my throat, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I leaned it up against the wall, I felt a knot form in my stomach and santiagos cock start to pulse "cum with me mi amor" he groaned licking a long strip along the hickies he littered on my neck, I nodded eagerly.

His grunts and groans grow louder as his hard thrust slightly fultered, our sounds of pleasure mixed together as we cam "fuck" I cried and santiago just growled lowly into my ear as he filled me up his nails digging into my skin, my hands dropped from his hair and I leaned my head onto his shoulder panting.

"Don't think we're done yet baby girl, you still have to make up for the times you've made me so fucking hard"

[fountainpenguin]

"You're on your own- So what? Have you gone blind? Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?" (x)

---

For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Complete! - 7/7 chapters - 37k words

💚 More Neighborhood Watch AU

I just finished a chill, T-rated found family 'fic from my "Life Series but it's a single timeline" AU project. Check it out!

---

Synopsis: When Grian Ties’g was 16, the last Totem of Undying in the known world swapped his soul with the Grian one universe to the left… sparing him a perma-death, but at what cost?

An overwhelmed Grian Xelqua - who did not sign up for this, thank you very much - jolts awake in a world where Red Names are no joke and stealing someone’s life is fair play.

And a very Red Tango now has a sword at his throat. ❤️

(First 1,300 words under the cut)

---

For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)

Those Who Came Before

🖤  🖤  ❤️

The first Totem of Undying in the Four Lands passed through the wrinkled hands of many wealthy folks in Crimson City before falling into possession of a princess who went Red young and fled her home. She kept it all her life, but when the time came to breathe her last, she unwound it from its place at her bosom and clasped it around the neck of her only son.

"I've lived enough," she simply said. "I've led so long and you've been faithful. Go now and do as you see fit with your given lives."

Steve Wandering watched his mother die as he had watched his father, burying the memories of both with shovel and silence. He'd always been a silent man. He took up his sword and from then on traveled decade after decade, sharing food with the needy and braving the hissing creatures of the night. He invented many things, discovered many treasures, and died glorious in a fight against the Dragon That Ends All.

And lived.

And lost those memories like the wind.

The second Totem of Undying in the Four Lands belonged to Alex Wolftamer in the east, who claimed to care not for the treasure passed down through her ancestral line of Wolf Kings and Queens. They had no palace, but called themselves such titles in their stand against Kingdom Crimson. Rather than flaunt that totem around her own neck, she wrapped it like a collar at the throat of her dog. Across the years, far too many people of sinister desire fought sword and pick to win her hand or win the hunting hound. It's with a shout and diamond axe that she lunged at the cloaked stranger who ventured through the valley forest. With cheery, bellyaching laugh, Herobrine caught her hand and spun her dangerously near the mountain drop.

"Why should I take from your beloved she-wolf?" he asked, and dangled a totem from his own wrist where she could see. "I've already got one. I did not come to take what loved ones gave unto you, but to inquire of your wisdom… for I have no one I love as much as you care for your dear wolf. I am but a cowardly man who's worn the totem for himself for security and peace. I cannot imagine surrendering it. Tell me, warrior… How did you find such inner peace?"

"Who says I have?"

"What ails you, then?"

"I fear the encroach of the Red Army. Their farms extend ever nearer to our forests. Their high-ranking officers, bearing the Hand mark upon their chests, come demanding tribute and insist we raise their banner. So many from our village have sought the safety of their walls. I wish for nothing but food for my dogs, repairs for my roof, and safe passage through the land."

"Ah… What have you done to incite their displeasure?"

"I haven't raised hand against them unless they've come directly in conflict with me."

"How frequent are their conflicts?"

"They've claimed our cows. They flood the roads to market with lava and have taken two lives- nearly three. They harass the trades I make with my own neighbors of my own free will."

"Let us go secretly, then, and burn the walls that have reached your valley's edge."

They married two years later, and it was four after that that Alex fell from a great height, one arm wrapped around her canine companion and the other reaching for a husband who lunged and missed her hand vanishing from the cliff. Alex hit the ground a block away from the rushing river that saved her dog.

And lived.

And lost those memories like rain. Not even the dog recognized her then, growling and nipping when Alex rose to her feet, and Snowflake followed Herobrine when they parted ways. They say he never took Snowflake's totem from her collar, but that Snowflake wriggled out of it the day after Alex died, took the chain in her teeth, and presented it to him with grief in her dark eyes. It may be just a story - a personification of a ragged beast - but it's a prettier tale than the alternative way this tale could end.

That third Totem of Undying, the one that Herobrine Mapcrafter wore on his wrist for much of his life, originated from the North. It tumbled through the hands of wizards and they say Herobrine was gifted it for his proven mastery in breaching the Nether dimension- the secrets of which had only been held by the Westlands until now.

Prior his apprenticeship beneath the wizards' eyes, he'd been raised a cartographer. Following the death of Alex, he took up mapmaking again with Snowflake by his side. He entered the Nether dimension for what he knew would be his final time. They never came out again and no record survives depicting full details. People speak often that he perhaps saved a community of Netherborn folks from a hissing, snarling Wither Boss that clawed its way out of the ground. Others whisper he released that Wither himself out of grief and wished for death. Witnesses claim he leapt before the beast, taking the hit on Snowflake's behalf.

And lived.

And lost those memories like they'd been scorched alive. They say he went mad, never the same again. Some claim they've seen Snowflake's white fur dashing through the Nether even now, her howl weeping for her masters and the moon and the feel of grass beneath her paws.

The last Totem of Undying in the Four Lands (rumor claimed) lay hidden in the Southlands. For three decades since the rise of the Dragon That Ends All, the unremarkable little thing drifted and tumbled and snagged or… something of the sort. Details unknown. It passed into the sewers at some undefinable point, where it floated until it didn't. It caught and clung to the sewer's edge year after year after year.

There it stayed until a ragtag tangle of friends - a trio - sought shelter in the tunnels after their brotherhood of Bad Boys split and turned against each other. They trekked without hesitation into the grime, for they were Red of name and disgust could graze them not. The youngest, with his gray and yellow wings, sat down near the entrance to clean an open wound. The eldest began to organize their meager food supply. The middle child, aged only 16, waded deeper through the passageway, wandering with little purpose but to scout for things to have; things to take. Red Lives, as a rule, are very, very greedy.

The totem lasted exactly 4 minutes and 36 seconds in Grian Ties'g's possession. He found it tangled among the filth and wasted no time taking it for himself. To prevent his fellow Bad Boys from sniping it away, he scrambled up a dirty shaft to the surface like an eel gifted flight. His wings were soaked from sewage water, so he did not fly. He bolted across the open field, laughing like a madman.

"Yes! YESSSS!"

His foot crossed a boundary line he never could have seen. Grian charged straight into a shrieker trap laced with TNT. Set them all off. He died to the gasping cheers of a Red who'd only just finished all the set-up. The last thing he ever heard was the "OH-hoh-hoh-ohhh!" of a shrieking onlooker. He blew up instantly, scarlet feathers and blobs of purple soul energy scattered in all directions. The central core melted free from flesh and dribbled to the ground in a gooey heap.

In a word? Perma-killed. The totem vaporized before anyone ever confirmed he had it, so people seek it in the Southlands even now (It might be right here; it's been hiding right here).

This story is not about that Grian. Not anymore. It's about the one who lived… whose memories do not match this world at all.

[ Full 'fic up on AO3 ]

[castawaycat]

The Tales of a Little Tiger: Chapter 20- A Growing Family

Summary: America opens up to a caregiver when she discovers that she is a little in the dimension that she is in.

Yelena was the first to notice America sitting against the wall with her legs pulled to her chest. The young girl looked lost and overwhelmed. She walked up to her gently and got down to the girl’s level. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Yelena and I am y/n’s aunt.” 

America clutched her legs closer to her body. Since coming into this dimension she felt younger and she didn’t understand why. Usually she was able to stay in check with her emotions; but right now all she wanted was to cry. 

Yelena could feel her pheromones activating as she soon realized that the girl in front of her was a little. The girl physically looked to be around fourteen years old, but her little headspace looked to be anywhere between four to six years old. “I know you must be feeling overwhelmed right now. Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” 

America nodded her head and took hold of the blonde woman’s hand. Something inside of her told her that Yelena could be trusted. A strong urge to suck her thumb came over her, she hadn’t sucked her thumb since she was four years old. “What is wrong with me?” She thought to herself. 

Once they walked outside Yelena noticed the girl relax a little. She noticed that the girl was sucking her thumb, but decided not to bring it up. “Do you feel better? Our whole family is pretty loud and it can be a lot to take in. Were you the one to bring Y/n back?” 

The girl nodded her head and took a minute to decide if she wanted to open up. Taking her thumb out of her mouth she nervously looked up at the blonde, “No, y/n was the one who opened the portal. But somehow we found each other and I did my best to take care of her… we found this place where there was a different Wanda and she took care of us.” 

“A different Wanda? What was she like?” Yelena asked curiously. 

“She was very nice and warm. She had a husband named Vision and two sons named Tommy and Billy. They even had a dog named Sparky!” America said excitedly. “The Wanda there offered me to stay with their family… but I wanted to make sure y/n made it back home to her moms.” 

“That Wanda sounds like she has a wonderful life. I think you are very brave to bring y/n back home. Where is your home?” Yelena asked gently as she could see sadness spread on the girl’s face. 

America looked down at the ground as she could feel tears fall down her cheeks. “It’s gone. I have no home.” For the first time since everything happened sobs erupted from her small body. “My moms are gone and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel so small and alone.” 

Yelena spoke softly in a comforting voice as she gently pulled the girl into her arms. “I’m so sorry about your moms and your home. I know everything is new and scary, but you’re safe here. There’s nothing wrong with you, here in this dimension I believe you are what’s called a, “little.” It basically means that your headspace drops to a young child or infant even if your body is older.” Yelena explained calmly as she could feel the girl cling to her shirt. 

America took in the blonde’s words and explanation. It would take some getting used to for sure; but now being in Yelena’s arms she didn’t feel so lost and hopeless. Her sobs died down as she rested her head on Yelena’s shoulder and sucked on her thumb. Her voice dropped into a small quiet one, “wanna stay with you.” 

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

The blonde’s heart melted when she felt the girl fully drop into a little headspace. “Don’t worry little one, I'm not going anywhere.” She said as she held the small girl in her arms. After a while Yelena noticed that the girl had fallen asleep in her arms, she gently picked her up and carried her back inside. 

You had also fallen asleep in your mama Natasha’s arms after she had breastfed you. You felt so much better to finally be back home. 

Tony walks up to Natasha and Wanda, “Bruce and I created this bracelet for y/n. It will help keep her powers controlled, the bracelet will grow as she grows. We suspect that y/n’s powers were manifesting and that was why she became sick, and why she was able to open up a portal.” He says as he carefully placed the bracelet on your little arm. The bracelet glows a light blue as it syncs with your powers. 

“Thanks Tony, you have no idea how thankful we are.” Wanda says as she gets up to hug him tightly. 

Natasha looks around for the girl who carried you through the portal. She smiles when she sees her sister holding the girl in her arms. “You might need to create a bracelet for the young girl as well.” Natasha says as she points over to where Yelena is sitting. 

Tony nods his head in agreement. “Any idea of what her powers are? From the looks of it, she may also be a little.” He says as he observes the girl sitting in Yelena’s lap. 

Yelena feels like she's being watched, “take a picture it will last longer.” She says as she notices her sister and Tony are watching her. 

Natasha transfers you into Wanda’s arms so that she can go talk with her sister. She can feel Yelena’s caregiver pheromones and takes note that her sister is already forming a bond with the girl in her lap. “I’m sorry sestra. Tony and I were just discussing if he needs to create a bracelet to help control her powers like y/n. Do you know her name and what powers she has?” 

The blonde relaxes a little as she shakes her head, “She hasn’t told me her name yet. All I know is that her home is gone and so are her mothers. As for her powers I have no idea.” Yelena took a minute to think before continuing, “I want to keep her in my care. She seems to trust me and I can get answers to a lot of our questions.” She suggests as she rubs soothing circles on the girls back. 

Tony nods his head in approval, “I think that’s the best call. The calmer the girl is, the calmer her powers will be. Fury wants us to do tests on her to determine if her powers are a threat. It’s standard protocol.” 

Yelena nods her head in understanding. “I will be with her through all of the testing procedures. I’ve made a promise to her that she is safe. I won’t let anything happen to her.” 

Natasha smiles warmly at her sister, “looks like you’ve found yourself your own little. Have you told Kate?” 

“No, all this just happened. It’s happening so quickly, but I already feel so attached and protective over her.” Yelena spoke honestly about her own emotions. Was this what being a caregiver felt like? Was she already bonding to the girl? 

Just as Natasha was about to respond she notices Kate and Lucky walk into the room.

“Hey, there you are. I couldn’t find you earlier. Oh, who is this little one?” Kate asks as she notices the little girl in her girlfriend’s arms. Lucky walks over and sniffs the girl. 

“I’m not sure what her name is but she’s the one that helped bring y/n back home. She will be staying with us while we figure everything out. I know I should’ve talked to you first, but everything happened so fast and she dropped into a little headspace with me… She’s all alone and she’s scared.” Yelena says to Kate as she searches the brunette’s face. 

Kate smiles warmly at Yelena, “are you telling me that we have our very own little?!” Kate asks excitedly as she feels her chest fill with joy. 

Yelena nods her head, “for now yes. It will be the girls decision if she wants to stay with us permanently. I don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have a choice.” 

The bubbly brunette leans down and kisses Yelena on the lips, “I’m so excited! I’m going to get a room ready for her.” Love and hope fills her heart as she wonders what life will look like for them now that they may have found their very own little to care for. 

America wakes up and looks up curiously at Kate, she clings to Yelena. 

“It’s alright little one. This is my girlfriend Kate and our dog Lucky.” Yelena says as she introduces the girl to Kate. 

“Hello, I’m Kate. What’s your name, little one?” 

The girl gives a shy wave and answers in a quiet voice, “my name is America. Can I pet your dog?” 

“Hi America, it’s nice to meet you. You can absolutely pet Lucky.” Kate says as she calls over Lucky and shows America how to pet him. 

The cutest giggles come from America as Lucky licks her face when she pets him. She starts to relax with Kate and Yelena as they tell her that she will be staying with them. 

Kate is surprised when she sees America walk over and sit in her lap. Her caregiver pheromones activate as she feels love and protective of the little girl she has just met.

[nuancedeaths]

The Anatomy of Starved Dogs (part 2)

First part:

Ao3 link:

Warnings!!

Child abuse/neglect

Drug use/overdose

Mentioned suicide

26 YEARS EARLIER

GHOST

MANCHESTER, ENGLAND

20 APRIL 1993

Many people make the mistake to think children are born blank slates, canvases that the image of personhood must be projected onto. They’re naive to believe that changing the environment that surrounds the child in their formative years will change the person he grows up to be so drastically, that they can change his fate completely. 

But they forget the remnant of a blueprint, his DNA. 

He is bound, even if not fully, to the downfalls, the sins of his father, and though it is easy to think of the potential such a young thing might have, half his story is already written, inked into the body in the very blood in his veins. 

Some are born with the heart to serve, others with one bound to destruction, and it is the job of the parent to recognise the latter and be vigilant not to enable his violent tendencies. 

Failure as a parent to recognise these things will lead to death, and sometimes it is a parent’s duty to swallow the bitter pill that is the realisation that some people are just inherently born evil. 

You can build them, or break them, but the troubled children of yesterday might grow up to be the pillars society rests on further down the line. With a bit of guidance, that boy hell bent on destruction could build nations, or bring around their demise, and one with a soft heart might lose it completely to whoever he let hold it first…

Simon squeezed his eyes shut tightly, turning his head away as he brought the rock smashing through the exoskeleton of the beetle. He hits it again just to make sure it's properly dead before raising the rock away to look at the damage done with a painful lurch of his heart. 

He mutters a futile apology to the poor thing before scooping the crushed body up with a leaf and putting it in the empty pill bottle his mother had given him. 

He hates killing the things, but it was one thing Aunt Amelia had not considered about his Christmas gift. 

 

“An ant farm,” she had said proudly as she presented it to him, still standing bleary eyed in the kitchen in his spiderman pyjamas. “Because I know how much you love bugs.” her smile had faltered a little bit into a grimace but quickly reset itself when she noticed the smile on his face. 

She stepped aside to admire his excitement as Simon watched the ants crawling over each other in their organised chaos, squealing with excitement as he spotted the queen. 

Aunt Amelia laughed at the six year old, now staring at the colony with sparkling eyes. 

He couldn’t see the expression on his mothers face then, smiling at her boy in her hazy detached way, avoiding the eye contact her sister kept on trying to initiate with her. 

His father stood off a little way with a stinking cigarette in his hand, watching the scene unfold with more than a little disdain. 

When the tension between the adults got too much, his mother moved him like a pawn on their chessboard, prompting him into taking the heat off her. 

“Now, Simon, what do we say to auntie Amelia for the nice gift?” 

“Thank you!” he rushed over and almost knocked her over in a hug. She braces herself against the kitchen counter behind her, knocking into the gathered group of dirty glasses and three day old dishes by the sink. She wiped her hand with a bit of disgust, trying to mask it, but Simon had seen it, so had his mother. 

“Calm down, you’re going to break something like that!” his father shouted. 

“Oh it's nothing, he’s just excited,” Aunt Amelia could feel Simon go rigid in her hold and quickly came to the boy’s defence, placing her hand on his shoulders in a futile attempt to shield him. She held the man’s gaze until he left the room with a defeated sigh. 

She knew his father, and the hem of the boy’s shirt wasn’t able to cover all of the bruises. 

“I should get going, still have a Christmas party to get to,” she said awkwardly, reaching for her purse and shuffling out of the kitchen, away from Simon and towards the door. She hesitated by the security gate as Simon tried to reach out to grab her by the wrist. 

He doesn’t want her to go. Things are different when she leaves. He feels safer when she’s here. 

“Please stay longer, I missed you,” Simon pouts, lower lip jutting out to emphasise how desperately he wants her to stay, but she just shakes her head apologetically. 

“Sorry darling, I have some of my friends from work to go visit, they miss me too.” 

He felt the resolve shatter as his shoulders sagged, he could barely hide the glint of tears in his eyes and Aunt Amelia cupped his little face in her hands that promised safety, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back when I can. But for now, enjoy your gift, my boy. I love you.” 

Heaven knows he doesn’t hear those words enough, so she tells him every time she sees him.  

She puts a hand on his shoulder but promptly lightens her grip when she sees him flinch, almost losing her smile when she notices the fading bruise just visible above the hem of his shirt. She looks him in the eye, “you take good care of your brother too, Simon.” 

Regrettably, she leaves him there as his mother walks her out, down the steps to the driveway. 

Simon watches the two forlornly from the window and briefly wonders what life would have been like if she was his mother instead. 

Later that evening, he was sitting by the kitchen counter, still transfixed by the crawling ants when his father came up behind him, looking displeased.

“You know you’re going to have to feed those things dead bugs, and you’re going to have to kill them yourself.” 

He left without another word to sit himself down on their worn out couch in the other room and watch whatever program was on TV, but Simon didn’t mind that now, too invested in his little colony to care. 

Distantly, he could hear little Tommy wailing in another room and willed him to stop before his father lost his temper. He always loses his temper when Tommy cries. 

 

Back then, he’d thought dispatching the dispatching of the insects would have gotten easier down the line. It hadn’t. 

At first, he thought he might escape the moral dilemma of having to kill the thing by just throwing it to the ants, but watching them tear its writhing, agonised body limb from limb was more frightening than taking care of it himself, so he considers it a mercy. 

From the driveway. Simon could hear his brother crying and rushed back inside a minute when no one had gone to check on him. 

The house is dark and the curtains are drawn to hide the mess in the cramped kitchen. 

Dirty dishes piled up in precariously balanced stacks on the countertops around the sink, the air stank of a sour mix of days old food and soured dairy. He scrunches his nose up and moves into the living room. 

Simon finds the TV with the sound just above mute. His mother is passed out on the couch with a magazine splayed open over her chest. Her arm was hanging over the edge of the couch and Simon took a moment to adjust it into a more comfortable position, closing the magazine. 

He pushed away some of the clutter on the coffee table to put it down there. 

She’ll probably come around in about an hour but be really out of it for the rest of the day. Simon suspects it has something to do with the pills she’s always taking.

She hides them in drawers and under seat cushions because his father gets angry when he sees her taking them. She’s been taking them after that surgery last year, but now her arm is completely healed and she’s still taking them. 

Simon finds Tommy in their shared bedroom, sprawled on the floor where he fell trying to climb under his too small cot. 

Simon rushed over to him and tried to comfort him to silence his crying, holding the two-year old close to him, but he didn’t know what more would help. He slowly rocked him back and forth. 

Simon shushes him quietly, cupping Tommy’s head to his shoulder. He makes good on his promise to Aunt Amelia. He would do his best to keep Tommy safe.

He looks Tommy over to check for any injuries, but aside from older bruises, he sees nothing new. 

“Don’t you worry, Tommy. Mommy’s going to be awake later to help you. She will help you,” he makes an empty promise, following it with a truer statement. 

“But I promise I’ll be here. I’ll always keep you safe.” 

If Tommy knew what that meant, Simon wasn’t sure. He looked his brother in the eye, finding his mother’s cornflower blue where his own were regretfully his father’s dull brown. 

He’ll take all of Tommy’s beatings for him if that’s what it took to keep him safe. 

When Tommy’s calmed down enough, Simon picks him up, doing his best to prop him up on his hip like he’d seen other mothers do with their children. 

Both Simon and Tommy were rather small for their age, so even though it should have been easier, his arm burns with the effort. 

Its alright though. He tells himself the same thing he tells himself when he’s pressing a bad bruise to check how much it hurts in the dirty bathroom mirror, or fixing up his own scrapes, because he’s ‘old enough to take care of himself’. He tells himself the pain is only temporary. 

With Tommy on his hip, Simon shuffles over to the window where his ant colony stood on their shared dresser. 

He watched them for a minute before he reached into his pocket for the pill bottle and knocked the bug out for the swarming colony. 

It gives him a sense of pride. He might not be old enough or strong enough to help Tommy on his own, but at least there is something he can provide for. 

That night, a long while after Simon had gone to bed, he hears the beginnings of  a fight in the kitchen. 

He tries his best to ignore it, but after ten minutes of tossing and turning, he decides to see what’s going on. 

“We’ve got an infestation in this house,” his father announces. He’s rifling through the cupboards, looking for bug spray with his mother standing deflated by the broom closet, still recovering from her earlier nap. 

Simon could do nothing but watch anxiously with his arms crossed across his chest as his father let his wrath out on his half lucid mother. 

She rubbed tiredly at the bags under her eyes and fixed her eyes on her husband, both blatantly ignoring their son. 

Simon flinches as his father yanks open another drawer filled to bursting point with odds and ends, sandwich bags and old serviettes pinned between the wooden drawer and countertop as he shoves it closed. He curses when it won’t close properly. 

“We don’t have anything,” his mother reiterates slowly, still half clocked out by the pills. 

Another cupboard door shuts harshly, crockery clattering on the other side. 

“Then fucking buy some. There are cockroaches in the cupboards and moths have eaten through the last of my goods shirts.” 

He shakes his head in wild disbelief. 

“You hoard everything under the sun. you barely clean, dinner’s never ready when I get home.” 

Simon felt himself go lightheaded. He’s been a witness to this particular scripted conversation far too many times. 

The next thing that she’ll say is– 

“I have two children to raise!” 

As if she’s ever actually awake to take care of them. 

Either you buy some or you're going back to rehab.” 

No, they can’t have her go back to rehab. Even though there was always a lot of tension in the house when his parents were fighting, it was worse when she was away. He was never particularly close with his mother, but his father tended to take his anger out on the children when she was away. 

She can’t go away again. He still has the pains from the last time she went away. 

“I don’t need to go to rehab–” 

“Yes you do. I found the pills you hid in the desk drawer.” 

“That’s none of your business, you have no right to meddle with my things!” 

“You’re an addict!” 

“So are you! Half the time you don’t show up sober from work and heaven knows you’re sky high when you crawl back home from whatever shithole you’ve been drinking in.” 

Simon’s eyes shot over to his father who raised his hands in anger, sure he was about to bring down his wrath on his mother who was already covered in half healed bruises under her shirt, Simon had seen them. 

In a split second panic, he coughs to alert both of them to his presence. 

"What do you want, boy?" His father asks, with exasperation. 

"Can't sleep," he makes a lame excuse, just for the sake of trying to avoid witnessing another bout of violence. He doesn't like hearing her cry and the last thing he needs now is for her to go back to the hospital or to rehab. 

He's been to the hospital before, but he doesn't know what rehab is. He just knows it means she'll go away for a long time and he can't have that. 

"Can't you see we're having an adult conversation? Go back to bed." 

"But I can't–"

"Then make a fucking plan, do I have to spell everything out for you?" 

Fearing what would happen if he didn't leave, Simon walks off wearily to his room and closes the door, trying his best to drown out the screaming match in the kitchen.

There's a shout and something like glass shatters on the floor, followed by more cursing and he presses his palms tightly into his ears, willing the noise to go away. 

He crawls back into bed, pulling the blanket over his head and covering his ears with the pillow, but it barely helps. The cursed walls of the house are so thin he can hear them right on the other side, screaming, swearing, mother in tears. 

His heart is racing and there's no way he'll be able to fall asleep like this. 

He needs something to help him calm down, to sleep.

Then it hits him, a genius idea, really. 

He gets out of bed and quietly opens the door, but his parents are too occupied to notice anyway as he tiptoes across the hall to his parents bedroom and pulls open the study drawer, finding the little bottle of clinking pills in his mother's jewellery box. 

He can't count very well, not over fifty. His teachers are concerned about his maths skills, but he won't need that much. His mother takes 4 to get her a good long nap. He'll take the same, it should help him quiet down the noise. 

He shakily tosses out a handful, throwing back the rest he's not going to drink before looking at the four intimidatingly large looking pills in his hand. He leaves the room before anyone can find him there and goes to the bathroom to swallow them down. He takes the bottle with him as he shuffles back to bed, just in case the four don’t help him get to sleep fast enough. 

He sets the little pill bottle on the nightstand and crawls back in under the lukewarm sheets. 

The pills were surprisingly strong, brain already feeling fuzzy and clouded as he laid his head on the pillow and tugged the blanket over his head. His movement is barely coordinated enough for him to be able to complete the action and he frowns at his hand, now an image converging and diverging in the darkness as he struggles to grasp the edge of the duvet to pull it up. 

But once he’s managed to grab hold of it, it seems as though all the strength has left his body and he cannot grip it tight enough to pull. 

The voices in the kitchen blur together and Simon can no longer distinguish one from the other as he is lulled into a void of silence. 

He’s only vaguely aware of what is going on around him, but he can hear his parents in the room, still arguing but closer now and he can hear Tommy crying. He doesn’t know how long he’s been crying, all Simon knows is that it's been a while. 

He wants to sit up, but he can’t. In his mind’s eye, he pictures himself pushing up off the bed, imagines it only vaguely in a delicate thread he’s still clinging onto consciousness with, but it's as though his body is frozen and his muscles have gone slack, he’s not lucid enough to get them to cooperate, he’s far gone enough that he accepts it as a fact he’s not even bothered by, just a state of being floating in his periphery, he’s the centre of a endless void, weightless and careless. 

His ebbing and swelling grasp on reality helps him pick up pieces of the noise. His mother tries to soothe Tommy’s crying, his father over her shoulder. And then there’s something that sounds vaguely concerned.

The barest outline of a shadow as one of the two– he can’t open his eyes to tell– looms over him. 

He hears something about pills. 

“–breathing?” 

Someone might have been touching him but he couldn’t be sure.  

“Barely.” 

“Shit. He’s taken four.” 

Something that distorts too much to make out. 

“I’d know, I count my pills–” 

The last thing he hears is something about a hospital before he barely registers a change in the weightlessness, like pressure in his brain as he’s lifted out of his bed in a suppressed whirlwind of panic.

Then it all fades to nothingness. 

2019

There’s a level of respect that Soap has to give Captain Price for his recruitment methods. 

Albeit somewhat unorthodox and having a pinch more coercion involved than he was really comfortable with, Soap knew that this was his angle since the day they met all those years ago at Credenhill for his training. 

Since then, Price has been a difficult man to pin down, finding his way into all kinds of international operations, but he’d taken a liking to Soap then, and it was foolish of him to think he’d get away from that without being roped into one of these high stakes things before Price was done with him. 

As was the way of the world, you don’t earn the respect of someone like Captain Price and think you’ll walk away with your hands clean. 

Soap knows from experience, rumours that had spread through the base at the time like wildfire, that the Captain doesn't make friends, he collects weapons. 

He’d gotten that bit of wisdom from a buddy that didn’t make it past selection at the time. Soap had never heard from him again, but he’d always remember that little thing he’d said when he noticed the man staring at Soap from across the room, arms behind his back, chin tilted up like he was breaking down his physique into stats, similar to the words printed into his dog tags. 

Height, weight, agility, speed, strength, age, fitness, and maybe, even if he didn’t want to admit it, how willing he was to sacrifice himself in the line of fire. 

Turns out martyrdom isn’t a thing easily bred out of a man fixated on his own self destruction. In standard society, such a trait might have been considered reckless or suicidal, but in this line of work, it was far more honourable, one of the reasons the job had appealed so much to him at the time. 

Now, as he sits in the faux leather seat of the plane, kneading his hands into his thighs with his headphones in, he thinks that sixteen-year-old John MacTavish was a testosterone loaded, short sighted idiot of a teenager. No child below the legal drinking age should be signing anything legally binding, especially nothing like this. 

He promised to keep himself safe, and it had taken less than a month to break that promise. He promised her he would consider her suggestion for him to resign and he really doesn’t want to do that anymore. 

Try as he might to deny it, he likes the adrenaline, how important the job makes him feel to be making a difference. 

So, no. Soap would not be throwing in the towel at twenty-five. 

 

It had been Price that dragged him into this precarious situation to begin with, so it only made sense that when he touched down in England, Price would be there waiting for him after he’d collected his suitcase. 

With a professional exchange of words, Price led him out of the airport, forgoing a much needed meal in favour of going somewhere private. Making filler small talk, Price led him over to a nondescript car in need of a repaint. 

The trunk popped open  with a chirp of the alarm and Soap hauled his suitcase into the back with a huff and shut the lid again, pretending not to feel Price's eyes on him as he turned to his side of the car. 

"How's your mum doing with this?" Price eventually asks when they're leaving the underground parking and out into the bland city air. 

It's stale and stinks of office buildings, smog and apathy. Not all that different from Glasgow, if Soap was being honest. 

"She's right pissed about it." 

"As expected," Price half grimaced as he turned out onto a road feeding deeper into the heart of the city, returning them to the circulatory system of winding roads and potholed asphalt. 

The highway promises a dead end at the other side. This job, this once-off thing for Price felt to Soap like there were a lot more strings attached than he was letting on. 

"We'll have you right back to Scotland as soon as the job's done." 

"What exactly is the job, sir?" Soap asks. 

"I'm afraid I can't tell you too much just yet, but we'll get to that soon– you mind if I smoke one?" Price cut himself off and held up a half smoked cigar in Soap's direction. 

"Go ahead." 

Soap turned his attention to the congestion of the road holding them up. His mind drifted to that morning by the airport, his mother's last words to him. 

"You promised me you wouldn't do this to yourself." His mother has said through tears welling in the corner of her eyes.

They were standing by the baggage drop and the tired woman attending his luggage ignored their emotional moment as she unceremoniously loaded his suitcase onto the conveyor belt and sent it off for loading. 

"I know, I know. But I'll make it up to you." 

"How do you possibly plan on doing that?" She was a combination of angry and defeated. 

"I don't know yet," he confessed sheepishly. "But I will find a way." 

"You better, John. You promised me you were going to leave this job behind," she reminded him. 

"It isn't that simple," he said. "I've built a life for myself there. Its a good job, with good money. Heaven knows we need it after da's passing." 

Soap clasped her fingers in his, planting a little apologetic kiss over her knuckles. Her demeanour doesn't soften in the slightest. 

"I know it's simple enough for me to know that you can replace a job, but I can't replace my son if anything were to happen to you. There's more to life than just what you want, John." 

He lets her hand go at once, averting his gaze to the boarding announcements. His flight wasn't due to leave for another hour. 

Met with no answer, she pushed on. "I know you're ambitious, John. Its one of the most admirable traits about you, but you need to learn when to let things go. Things aren't just about you. We worry. I worry, your sisters worry, we're afraid of losing you. You've had your fun, but its time to move on. Before its too late and you end up with permanent damage." 

Soap hasn't the heart to tell her he already has permanent damage and instead opts for a consolatory kiss to her forehead. 

"I'll be alright. You'll see." 

Before his mother can muster the strength for more pushback, the woman from the luggage clears her throat and they turn to meet her impatient expression. 

"If you don't mind, there are other people waiting in line." 

Reminded of the uncomfortable  situation, Soap's mouth pulled into a tight line.

"I don't appreciate being held on a string, Cap." 

“I don’t like withholding information either, but I’m afraid it isn’t my call to make here. Once we reach base we'll cover the details, make sure you know what you're getting yourself into.” 

Soap nodded but Price’s words did nothing to calm his unease. 

“Will the General be joining us?” 

“Not for the briefing, but he's given me all the necessary information to relay to you. He'll be with us in Verdansk, though." 

Verdansk. That Glasgow coffee shop conversation.  The planned attack on the airport. Soap's head was spinning with the urgency of the situation. 

“And your other man?” 

Price grimaced around the cigar, letting the smoke go before he made any attempt to respond to Soap. 

“He’ll be there. And another guy Shepherd trusts enough to be on this. But he’ll be there.” 

Frustrated with the lack of information, Soap leans his head against the window and closes his eyes, tucking his hands into the pockets of his grey hoodie. He’s half asleep a couple of minutes later, but it seems he has actually managed to get a minute of sleep in, because the scenery has drastically changed and the sun seems to sit a bit higher in the sky. 

By the look of it, they’re not far off now and will be there any minute. 

“Okay, so there’s two things you need to know about my guy,” Price begins. The cigar is gone now. Soap had definitely managed a few blessed minutes of sleep. 

“Yes?” 

“If he tells you to do something, you do it. I know you have a history of authority issues but he is not the kind of man to try any of that with. If he says he knows better than you about a certain thing, it's because he does.”

That doesn’t sit right with Soap, but he’ll take it. 

“And the other thing?” 

“Don’t ask questions about his appearance. No personal questions, either. It's for your safety, not his.” 

Soap laughs uneasily, throwing sarcasm into his response. “You make him sound real nice.” 

“He’s alright. Just a bit of an acquired taste.” 

Soap scoffed. “ Coffee is an acquired taste, saying that about a person, it just makes him sound like a dick.” 

Price gave a small laugh. “He’s really alright, Soap. But just keep in mind what I said.” 

Arrival on base proceeded with little fanfare. They stopped at the gate and Price flashed his ID, drove in and parked on his usual spot. 

They’ve got a decent bit to walk and Soap picks up on a strange sort of atmosphere as Price led him over to a room towards the back of the building, ducking them into side corridors and keeping their heads down, only briefly acknowledging the men passing them in the hallway. 

“How many people really know what’s going on about this situation?” Soap asked as they turned into an empty corridor. 

“Not many, so I suggest you think of a lie if someone asks you what you’re doing here.” 

Finally, after a good ten minutes of walking, Price stops outside a closed door at the end of a hallway, hand hovering over the door handle. 

“Remember what I said, Soap. Don’t say anything you’ll regret.” 

Price turns the doorknob and motions for Soap to step into the room. 

It's a small space. The floors are covered in cheap industrial carpeting and the room is windowless, lit by equidistant cool white fluorescent bulbs and still suffocatingly dark because of the near black paint on the walls. In the centre of the room was a long, white conference table, overlooked by a large monitor. 

There’s a poor attempt at making the room feel more homely in the form of a potted plant sitting in the corner under the monitor’s mount, but it's so obviously plastic, the small waste bin on the other end of the room looks like it cost more. 

For the moment of stale silence, the low humming of the ventilation sets Soap’s nerves on edge as it filters flavourless circulated air into the room and pushes that strange atmosphere to stand at attention. 

He’s here again. He was meant to retire. He was meant to hand in his papers for good just a week from now. A week. 

Soap feels as though the room is going to suffocate him by the time Price gestures for him to take a seat at the table opposite two other men, but he makes no move to take a seat himself. 

It's not until he looks up that Soap really realises what Price had meant about not saying anything he’d regret. 

The man adjacent to him is not much older than himself; hazel eyes and lightish brown hair buzzed short. Normal appearing with a kind demeanour, but the other, much larger man across from Soap had a more foreboding presence. 

It was almost surreal, seeing Simon Riley for the first time. Soap didn’t need Price’s confirmation to know that this was his ‘other man’, his presence spoke for itself. 

Soap understands gimmickry. He understands anonymity. Hell, he understands feeling insecure about his body, or disfigurement, or scarring. But what the fuck is the man wearing a skullfaced balaclava for? 

He’s clad head to toe in black. Dark cargo pants, heavy laced boots and thick black cotton hoodie, and a fucking black skull mask. 

Was this what Price meant by not asking questions about his appearance? No one had told him it was because the man they were meeting looked more the part of a criminal than a soldier. 

But, Soap supposes he did make a promise, and he keeps his mouth shut. 

“Seems you’ve decided to join us, Captain,” the man across from Price says. 

“Yes. had to pick this one up from the airport first. But without further ado, we should get this over with. You all make friends while I get this thing booted up.” 

Price turns to Soap. “Sergeant MacTavish, Sergeant Burns,” he hurriedly introduces the two to each other and they exchange a stiff handshake. Price makes no move to introduce him to the masked man, moving over to the monitor. 

“And you must be Lieutenant Riley,” Soap said with a measured smile, extending his hand across the table towards the black clad figure. From what little Soap could see of the man, he did not look impressed. 

Almost cruel seeming brown eyes drag over his form, from the outstretched hand to analyse his face for a moment. 

Soap’s smile wavered a bit, hand not quite so sure of its position between them anymore before he felt a rough gloved hand take his. 

"I prefer Ghost." 

Gimmickry and downright cringe. If Soap didn't know better, he might've thought the man was nothing more than a scene kid from the 2000s that didn't quite outgrow that phase in the nineteen years following. 

But maybe, he thinks as he remember's Price's words about being an acquired taste and being a good man, he supposes he shouldn't be so quick to judge. 

He can't help it sometimes. His nature is hostile even when he has no reason to be. 

"Then call me Soap if we're not on a name basis." 

The man huffed out an unimpressed acknowledgement, but the grip on Soap’s hand remained light and unintrusive. He lets it go. 

A garbled noise to their left alerts Soap to the screen starting up. 

"Let's not beat around the bush, shall we. All of you know why you are here. You are here because General Shepherd and myself trust that you are capable of getting the job done and that you understand that nothing discussed here can leave this room. Do you understand?" 

A unanimous agreement echoed across the table and Price was content to turn to the monitor to retrieve the remote.

"Over the last couple of years, there's been a series of incidents." 

Price brought up an old file on the screen. Some of the text was redacted but the relevant points highlighted. 

"In February of 2017, a large shipment of weapons and resources for explosives manufacture out of Urzikstan was found carrying only two thirds of its intended cargo. The rest remains unaccounted for, but with current Russian occupation in Urzikstan, the blame is tentatively given to General Barkov and the Russian army, but he denies any involvement." 

Price moves over to another case. 

"In July of 2018, a bomb planted in a market in Urzikstan took out half the street, killing six civilians and injuring fifty. Remains of the explosive pointed to it being made with resources from out of Urzikstan. The attack pushed a tentatively balanced agreement between the Russians and Al Qatala, the terrorist group operating in the area, to breaking point. The following conflict led to a bloodbath with Barkov and his men believing Al Qatala was trying to get the West to take note of the situation and take action against the Russians, and Al Qatala believing the Russians set them up to reestablish their hold on Urzikstan. The bomb was later proved to not have come from either, but from an unidentified outside source with the intention to stir up unrest between the groups. But it had its desired effect: four hundred innocent people lost their lives." 

Price moved onto another, this time several headlines covering the news from different angles and images of the gruesome scene. 

"Following this situation, in August of the same year, a Russian lawmaker threatening to cease the occupation of Urzikstan and order Russian forces to withdraw, was found dead after he 'fell out of' his third storey bedroom window. His pro occupation counterpart soon stepped up to fill the vacant role. There is no legitimate proof of foul play." 

Soap clenched and unclenched his hands under the table, keeping his eyes locked on the screen.

"Further, between this, spanning from October of 2016, September 2018, and what we believe might be an impending attack now, there has been a total of eight seemingly random, untraceable terrorist incidents across Europe, which have been largely downplayed by the media." 

"Wait," Soap stops him short. "How do we know of this supposed imminent threat?" 

"I've been trying to get to the bottom of this for the last four years. I've managed to get connections and I've somehow got myself an anonymous informant." 

"An anonymous informant?" Riley– Ghost asks sceptically. "What's to say this isn't some trap you're walking us into?"

Soap doesn't say anything, but his hand comes up to clutch at the metal over his heart. 

He knew this was going to be a mistake and he went ahead with it anyway. He should've know, he should've stayed home, he should have handed in those papers–

"The guy's legit. The information he's given is solid and checks out flawlessly. He's given me names, organisations, information about the Russians no one else would know. I've cross referenced the names he's given and locations they allegedly were in at the time of certain events, and it checks out." 

"He's Russian?" Burns asks with an equal tone of scepticism. "Do you think he's one of Barkov's men?" 

"I honestly can't say," Price says, shaking his head."But I'd rather take his word for it than choose not to believe him and see Makarov blow up an airport because I didn't know how to take a sign." 

Soap's hand clutched around the metal. It soothes him a bit. But not much. Not enough. 

What the fuck has he gotten himself into now?

Price clicked a button on the little black remote and a familiar face appeared on the screen. Alongside it was a list of basic personal information that had been in the file Price had shown him in Glasgow. 

He stood off to the side of the monitor as he addressed the group. 

"Vladimir Makarov has an official record of acting radically. He was observed by his teachers in school to have a very serious and driven mindset, expressing genuine interest in dangerous ideology and sometimes getting himself into physical fights. But mostly, his most worrying observed trait was being able to stir up conflict by manipulating a situation between his classmates just right, that the conflict would come about organically, just exposed by changing circumstances without changing anything about how they actually feel about each other. Just reaching the legal age, he joined the Russian military, working under –you guessed it– General Roman Barkov during his initial incursion into Uriskstan. For reasons unclear, he was dishonourably discharged after that. That said, Vladimir Makarov was born on October 4th, 1980 to a high profile family of which three of his immediate family members –his father being one of them– were outspoken politicians during the 70s and 80s, right up until the fall of the Soviet Union."

Price pressed another button and a few scans of old newspaper headlines, cover images and grainy frames from old news reports cropped onto the screen.

"From the day he was born, he was conditioned into being comfortable in front of a camera. How to act in front of outsiders and how to speak to reporters if it came to it." 

All the images were candid photographs taken of a middle aged man on various occasions, but they had something else in common. A young child, varying between the ages of what Soap judged to be five and ten, was tucked almost inconspicuously into each of the images. 

If Soap hadn't known any better, he might have thought him to be one of the crowd. But he's too well dressed and appears far too frequently for that to be the case. 

In the latest of the photos, he's seen being escorted from the scene by a handful of armed security while his father was making a speech. 

"The stress of the job was a lot to handle and word was that Makarov's father abused him and his mother during especially hard times. Whatever he was feeling at the time was only exacerbated by the discovery of his father's suicide, shortly after the fall of the Soviet Union. If he's carrying feelings from that formative time in his life as motivation for his present actions, we know what his angle of approach to his attacks are." 

"He's holding a grudge?" Ghost asks. 

"Most likely," Price confirmed. 

"Against who?" This time, it was Soap's turn to ask. 

"If he's angry at the job for making his father violent, he'd be by no doubt pissed about it all being for nothing when the fall drives his old man to suicide," Ghost explains. 

"So he's angry at the West for interfering?" Burns asks. 

"The Russian government, too, for how they handled the situation," Price adds. 

Soap frowned, recalling the information he'd been steadily soaking in over the last half hour. 

"But then why join the Russian army?" 

Price huffed. "Well, we can't speculate too much, but it could be anything from legit experience to high end connections. After all, Makarov does all his arrangements by proxy. Which is why it's so difficult to pin him down. But we have a chance now," he reminded. 

"According to my source, we have the exact time and location where Makarov will be planting the bomb. It's now our job to get there and stop him in the act. It's the only way we'll get to him now without compromising staying one step ahead." 

"We'll have to cut it very close then," Soap says, trying to keep the discomfort out of his voice. 

"When do we leave?"

"If all goes well and we keep this under the radar, we leave for Verdansk tonight." 

It isn't much longer until they're free to leave the room and Price sets them with the parting words, grave and serious,"We can't afford to screw up now. As I've said, Makarov does everything by proxy, so the fact that he wants to be there himself means he wants this to make a statement. He wants to put on a show." 

 

Soap finds himself savouring the fresh air. He finds the nearest door to the outside world and finds himself trying to piece himself back together by the wall behind the toilets. 

It probably looks a bit pathetic as he's trying to compartmentalise to make the situation seem less of a dumpster fire than it really was. 

Fuck. He knew he was going to be getting his hands dirty, but he wants no part in this. 

Trying to keep his light meal of refrigerated aeroplane sandwich down, he leans against the wall of his secluded corner and takes a couple of deep breaths. 

To hell with trying to explain this one to his mother. He's damn well fucked now. He squeezes his eyes shut and musters a desperate prayer. 

Asking for strength, for success so that he doesn't have to walk away with blood on his hands or be sent home to his mother in an urn. 

As he opens his eyes, Soap notices a flask of dark movement to his right, the door opening along the wall and of all people, Ghost stepping out. 

He's lighting himself a cigarette with his back turned to Soap. Without a doubt, his mask is pulled up slightly above his mouth and he hears the man mutter a curse when the cigarette won't light in the bitter little breeze that's decided to kick up. 

He doesn't know Soap is there and Soap doesn't say anything. 

But as he watches Ghost walk off in whichever direction with his cigarette in hand, watching those broad shoulders shift with every motion of his body, the muscles pull the fabric of that hoodie taut over his skin, Soap thinks his long gone companion from training was right. 

Captain Price does not make friends, he collects weapons.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lightning Bug - Chapter 21

Masterlist

Warning: panic attack, nightmare, mention of past turture, trauma dump, religious abuse, mention of murder, protective avengers

Word count: 5.1k (we are less than 3,000 words from this fic being over 100,000 words)

Wanda enjoyed this alone time as she mediated with her thoughts and how things in her life were changing. Sometimes her thoughts scarred and worried her. At times they were dark and depressing but she knew there was light at the end of the tunnel. The witch smiled. “I know your there,” she said. Her accent was thicker when she was in this state. Wanda opened her eyes and saw Vision standing in the doorway. He looked worried and conflicted. “What’s wrong?” She asked as her feet touched the ground.

“It’s difficult to explain.”

“Try,” Wanda said. The android sighed, closing the door and sitting down in the empty chair.

“Miss. Y/n and I played a game of chess last night and she seemed rather upset,” Wanda frowned. She must have not gone back to bed once they left her. “We talked a bit and when she was going back to bed she asked if she could touch the mind stone and I let her.”

“You did what?” Wanda questioned in disbelief.

“I know it was incredibly irresponsible -”

“It could have killed her!” She knew her eyes flashed a hit of red but Vision remained calm. Gods, he was one of the smartest individual in the tower but he lacked such common sense.

“But it didn’t,” he folded his hands. “Similar to how it didn’t kill you or your brother when you came into contact with it.” He was right. It didn’t kill them but it changed them. “I know it was wrong of me to do but she trusted me enough. Doesn’t that say something?” Wanda nodded, taking a calming breath.

“What happened?” She asked and pulled up a chair to sit down with him.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “I do no know. She touched the stone and normally I can know what occurred similar to when you touch it. But I felt nothing. It was as if the stone didn’t want me to see what it showed her,” Wanda’s frown deepened. “I asked what she saw but she claimed she saw nothing.”

“Is she in danger?” Wanda asked. She would do anything to keep the young girl safe.

“I don’t know,” Vision admitted. “But something is coming and I fear our young friend may be caught in the cross fire. Maybe if you can get her to confess what she saw in the mind realm it could give us a clue on how to protect her.”

*

“What is happening?” Wanda asked as she stepped out of the elevator. Her head was spinning with Vision’s warning. She made him promise to keep it between them until they could get more information. It was unnecessary to worry the team if they weren’t sure something was coming. During the elevator ride up to her floor, she tossed around the idea of telling Natasha. She wasn’t sure yet. She was in need of a cold shower to clear her head but she saw Kate with scissors in her hand about to cut Y/n’s hair. The archer froze, smiling as if she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“She wanted a hair cut and no on that was qualified enough to cut hair was around,” Kate explained. “So here we are.” Wanda crossed her arms with an amused smile on her face.

“And you couldn’t wait for someone?” The young girl giggled.

“I did suggest that,” Kate defended. “But it’s very hard to say no to that face especially when she gives you puppy dog eyes.” The eyes in questioned locked onto her green ones. They were so much brighter compared to when she first saw that girl on the side of the road. Wanda promised herself to never let that light go out. With a sigh, she walked over the duo.

“Give me the scissors,” Kate sighed in relief and handed them over to Wanda.

“A life savor,” The archer praised. “Truly a life savor. I owe you a great debt Wanda Maximoff,” the witch rolled her eyes and stood behind the girl. “Now I have to go call Clint. See ya.”

“Bye Kate,” Y/n waved. “Tell everyone I say hi!” The archer gave a salute and headed off towards her room.

“So,” Wanda said, gently brushing her hair. It was freshly washed and it came down to the middle of her back. “Why do you want to cut your hair?” Wanda watched the girl’s shoulders move up and down.

“Never liked my hair long,” she began. “But no one would cut it when I was growing up and I didn’t really let people touch me to cut it,” she sighed. “I remember finding kid scissors in my brother’s room and I tried to cut it myself,” her body shook as she laughed. “Didn’t go well as you can imagine.” Wanda smiled as she set the brush down. “I was grounded for 2 weeks because of the mess I made,” her voice got soft. “I still have the scar on my shoulder where my father grabbed me and threw me into the wall.” Anger bubbled in Wanda’s chest. It was a mystery to her on how a father could hurt his child. She pushed the feeling down.

“How short are we thinking?” Wanda asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

“Maybe to my shoulders and we can go from there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Wanda began to cut the long hair that was desperately need of a good cut. She wondered why her or Natasha didn’t suggest this to the teen earlier. Were there other things they were neglecting? “Vision told me that you and he played chest last night,” Wanda said. “Could you not fall asleep after your nightmare?” The teen shook her head. “Keep your head still,” the witch giggled.

“Sorry,” she said and Wanda could hear the smile in her voice. “I tried to,” she continued. “The room felt to small so I walked around the tower and found Vision. I like him. There is something abut him that makes me feel safe,” Wanda understood that feeling. He helped her overcome her grief of losing her brother and her actions in Laos.

“How are you feeling?” It took a minute for the girl to answer as she did a mental category of everything.

“Good, just a little tired and I have a headache but Kate gave me something for that.” The problem was Wanda felt the girl’s honestly and what worried her more was she wasn’t holding anything back. Wanda’s frown deepened. “Are you mad at Vision because he let me touch the mind stone?” The witch sighed.

“No, honey, but it was very dangerous and you could have gotten hurt.” The girl twisted around in the chair to face her.

“I didn’t see anything,” she said. “I promise. If I did I would tell you,” Wanda smiled.

“It’s okay, I believe you. Now,” she gently turned the teen forward. “Stop moving so I can finish cutting your hair.” The witch believed her. She felt no dishonestly in her words or in her mind. Whatever she saw or whoever she spoke with made her forget what she saw. That worried Wanda even more.

*

You didn’t like the feeling of loose hair on your neck so you took a quick shower once Wanda was done. You loved your hair, it was short and easy to manage. So many times people grabbed onto your hair to hold you in place or pull you back. It was nice to be free from that. You hung up the towel when your hair was dry and walked out of your room. “You cut your hair!” America exclaimed when you entered the main area. Her and Yelena were sitting on the couch with Natasha in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling your face flush at the attention. “Do you like it?” She continued to stare at you until Yelena hit her in the stomach.

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “It looks good. Yeah, good,” the blonde rolled her eyes and mumbled, ‘Ya Delayu Eto (idiot).’ “What did you just call me?” You giggled and sat down at the kitchen counter.

“Wanda said you asked her to cut your hair,” Natasha said.

“Actually, I asked Kate but Wanda took the scissors from her,” you giggled.

“That is probably for the best,” Yelena said, appearing next to her sister. “She would not have done a good job.” You smiled. Yelena hit her hip against the redhead, you didn’t like the way both of them were looking at you. You raised your eyebrow in question.

“Do you want to join Yelena and I for a walk?” You looked between knowing well they were hiding something.

“Yeah sure,” you said. “Sounds like fun.” You expected them to lead you outside to walk around a park but they lead you to the training area and onto the track. It was surrounded by windows that over locked the city and letting natural light in. You wondered what it would look like in the winter. The Black Widow due walked on either side of you. “So,” you said after you finished the first lap. “Are you going to tell me what you really want to talk about?” Yelena chuckled.

“There is no keeping secrets from this one,” you nodded your eyes.

“Helen suggested that adding exercise can aid in your recovery,” Natasha explained. “Plus I agree with Wanda and I think it’s a good idea to train your abilities so you don’t hurt yourself.”

“Will that make me an Avenger?”

“Do you want to be an Avenger?” You shrugged.

“Not really. Seems like a lot of paperwork.” Yelena laughed.

“You are so right,” she said. “Those mission reports give me nightmares.” Natasha pinched her sister which caused the blonde to yelp. “It’s true! Maria made me redo one 3 times!”

“That’s because you wrote the entire thing in hieroglyphics, then piglatin, and finally English,” Yelena shrugged.

“As Deputy Director she should be well versed in multiple languages,” Natasha shook her head with a sigh. You liked watching the two Black Widows interact with one another. There were moments where you saw Caleb and yourself in them. They desperately wanted to protect one another, it was the same for you. But there were times you wished you and Caleb could be more playful as they were; joking around and teasing with one another. You both were focused on surviving. Sometimes you would sneak into his room and talk and () your laughter so you wouldn’t get caught. You loved those memories. “Natasha talked to Steve and myself, Wanda, or Maria will be helping you train. As well as Nat,” she added. It was a good plan and you felt safe with those people.

“There is more we need to talk about,” you figured as much. “Helen also said there is damage to your hippocampus. There is ways to heal it; exercising being one of them and you need to stop hurting yourself.” You never planned to let it get that bad again. You felt guilty for worrying everyone.

“Hippocampus,” you repeated back to her. “What is that?”

“It’s part of your brain that helps with memory,” Yelena answered. “Have you been experiencing memory loss?” You weren’t sure. There were moments you could remember crystal clear like you were watching a movie. Your memories when you were with HYDRA or living on the streets, there were gaps. Not everything was clear but you chalked it up to your brain protecting you from traumatic events. You nodded. “Those memories may come back,” you frowned, stopping in your tracks. The duo kept walking before stopping when they realized you weren’t following.

“What’s wrong, dorogoy (sweetheart)?” Natasha asked, walking back over to you.

“I don’t want to remember,” you whispered. You didn’t. You wanted to forget all the pain you caused, the blood on your hands, and the screams. The screams were the worst part. “I want to forget all those horrible things they made me do.”

“Who is they?” Natasha knelt in front of you, gently taking your hands in hers. There was a burning feeling to tell them. To come clean and wash away all the hidden secrets. They must know, right? You’ve told them you’ve killed, the your hands have been tainted red with blood. What other organization was in the business of kidnapping people and turning them into weapons? They were waiting for you to tell them, to take that leap of faith.

“HYDRA,” your voice shook. “They took me off the streets, promised me a safe place to sleep and food. I didn’t-” your lips trembled. “I didn’t want to do it.”

“Oh I know,” Natasha cooed, whipping away your tears tat fell. “Your okay,” she promised. “They won’t hurt you, never again.” You believed her and she brought you into a tight hug. You burrowed your face in her shirt, letting more tears fall.

“It’s hard when you start to remember the things you’ve done,” you turned to face the blood, still wrapped in Natasha’s arms. She was leaning against the railing with a frown on her face, starring at her shoes. “It’s like a scab over a cut so you always know it’s there but the cut opens it seems to hurt more than the first time.” Finally, she looked at you. The look in eyes reminded you of that day in the gun range, far off and dazed.

“How do you move on?” You asked softly. She chuckled, looking away. She clicked her tongue to the rood of her mouth.

“Like a scar, it takes time,” you wished she had a different answer.

“But you have us,” your attention went back to the Black Widow. “You are safe here and no matter what happened in your past it won’t change how we see you now.”

“Promise?” You questioned.

“Promise.” Yelena reassured you.

*

You stayed in your room until dinner, going over what Natasha and Yelena said. You were exhausted and grateful that those around you didn’t force you talk talk, you needed the quiet to decompress. Even Helen’s voice rang in your head, ‘you need to let them in and allow them to shoulder that fear with you.’ Oh but you were so scared to do that. Even with the promise that they wouldn’t look at you differently, you were still scared. So when dinner came around, you didn’t engage in the conversation as they asked Bruce how Wakanda was. Instead, you pushed your food around your plate to lost in your own thoughts. Once dinner was put away, Tony ordered ice cream for everyone. It was suppose to be a fun team bonding experience but the ice cream made your stomach twist as you listened to the team talk and laugh. “Hey,” America whispered, pumping your shoulder against yours. “Are you okay?” You sighed, not meaning it to be loud enough to grab the attention of other other Avengers. You swirled your spoon in your ice cream so the colors were mixed together.

“I,” you sighed again, feeling angry with yourself for not finding the correct words. “I want to tell all of you about what happened to me, if that’s okay?” The mood of the group shifted and you felt a little bad but you needed to do this now before you lost the courage.

“Of course, " Wanda smiled. “Take your time.” You crossed your legs and focused on your ice cream.

“I was born with this ability,” you started. You knew some of them knew that but you thought it was good to start from the beginning. Dropping your spoon, electricity danced around your fingers. “They didn’t surface until I was about 4 but even then my parents made it clear they wanted nothing to do with me,” you took another spoonful of your ice cream, hand shaking slightly. “They didn’t want a second kid and my mother didn’t know she was pregnant until a friend told her. He claimed God spoke to him through a dream and told him of the pregnancy. But I wasn’t going to be a gift, I was going to be a curse. That not even the Devil wanted me.” You heard Natasha scuff. You smiled at the sound, imagining the red head rolled her eyes and Wanda quietly having to tell her to behave. You kept your eyes trained down. “So they kept me a secret, only a trusted few new about me.”

“Why didn’t they give you up for adoption?” ate questioned. It was a good one that you asked yourself all the time.

“I learned quickly that my father enjoyed two things; power and control,” you answered. “There I was a young girl desperate for her father’s love. I did everything I could to get it, no matter how many times he hit me,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Anyways, I accidental shocked my brother. They were furious and locked me in a small room in the basement for 3 days. The only reason I survived was Caleb bring me food and water. He had to be careful too. He was my parents’ favorite but that didn’t always protect him. When they found out I lived, they sent a priest to form an exorcism on me to get the Devil out.”

“You were 4 years old,” you heard the anger in every word Yelena said. You nodded. Your father held you down at the priest performed it. It wasn’t the only one you had to endure but they didn’t need to know that.

“Obviously, it didn’t work,” you chuckled, trying to lighten up the situation. “I remember they made me kneel in the corner and pray to God to save me. I spent hours reading over the bible,” you took another bite of your ice cream. It was melted but it was a good distraction. “That went on for a year or two until they realized I could use my powers to benefit them. I gave power to the church, our home, and those who knew I existed but it was not good enough. Every bad thing that happened I was to blame, someone leaving the church, my father getting into a chair accident, or my brother getting sick. It was all my fault and one day I snapped,” you felt America tangle her hand with your free one, squeezing it tight. You were grateful for it.

“You don’t have to continue, sweetie,” Pepper said. You smiled at the CEO. You were almost done with this section of your story.

“Caleb went to school,” you continued. “And my father wouldn’t stop yelling. I don’t remember why he was upset,” your voice began to shake. “The pressure was building and I couldn’t stop it. It became to much and I let go. I woke up to the house around me was burnt to the ground. First responders were on their way and I ran,” you finally looked up at the Black Widow, seeing nothing but warmth in her eyes. “I learned later they said it was an electrical fire but it was me.” A heavy silence fell among the group, it was Tony that broke it.

“Look I’ll be the first one to say it since we are all thinking it. They got what they deserved,” Pepper gasped, slapping the billionaire.

“Tony! I can not believe you said that!” She shirked. You fought a smile that was forming on your face.

“What? I know we are all thinking it, tell me I’m wrong!” No one said anything. “See my point. Look kid,” he stopped mid sentence. “I have words for wisdom to tell you but I fear my wife so I’ll tell you when we are alone.” You laughed, whipping away a tear that fell.

“What I think Mr. Stark is trying to say,” Vision said. “We are very sorry you had to endure that as a child.”

“Yeah, shit,” Rhodey said. But there was a second half to your story. That was a nice intermission. You finished your melted ice cream, set it on the table, and leaned back onto the couch still holding onto America’s hand. It grounded you.

“To no one’s surprise,” you continued. “I was an easy target on the streets by the other kids, adults, and authorities. I was a quiet kid to afraid to fight back because I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I survived the best I could then a man approached me,” you looked down at your lap. Sometimes you felt so stupid for trusting him. “He promised me a safe place to sleep, food, and that other ids were going to be there. I went with him.”

“You weren’t stupid for believing he was telling the truth,” Sam said. You shrugged.

“He brought me this black van and he drugged me. When I came to I was in a cell and I found out I was with HYDRA. Very quickly they learned they couldn’t use their normal methods because I could redirect the electricity,” you smiled. “Pop quiz, what is great conductor for electricity?” You looked up, watching the gears turn in Bruce and Tony’s head.

“Water,” the doctor said. You nodded, keeping your eyes on the floor.

“If I didn’t complete the mission, they would fill a tub of water, force me inside,” you looked at Bucky. “And electrify it.” The color drained from this face, making his blue eyes pop. “I tried to redirect it but the onslaught was to much.”

“What did you do for them?” Steve asked.

“Anything they wanted,” you whispered. “I did everything that man told me to. I was his little spark and he was papa,” Bucky licked his lips. “I tortured, killed, and helped reset the Winter Solider,” it was so silent. You feared the could hear the beating of your heart. “Do you remember me?” You asked Bucky. “Because I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you.” God, you could hear his screams echoing in your head.

“So am I,” Bucky got up suddenly, leaving towards the direction of his room. The others watched the man leave.

“I’d go make sure he’s okay,” you told Steve. “Those few years weren’t kind to us,” the blonde hesitated to leave but you nodded. “It was an endless cycle. He’d hurt me, I’d hurt him, it wasn’t fun.”

“How did you escape?” Natasha asked. You sighed, resting your head on America’s shoulder.

��I did what I do best and burnt the place to the ground,” you said softly. “I made it back to the states and lived on the streets until Natasha found me.” You were exhausted. It was an emotionally charged day.

“Shit,” Sam said. You chuckled at the blunt comment. “Not sure if I want to hug you or hurt everyone that has hurt you.”

“Get in line, Wilson,” you saw the same anger in Natasha’s eyes when you told her about the incident a the Barrera house or when the shop owner put his hand on you. Everyone seemed to share the same look, even Bruce looked upset. You smiled.

“The past is the past,” you said. “Can’t change it. I just have to keep on moving forward.” America squeezed your hand.

“With all of us by your side.” Yeah, you thought, that sounded nice.

*

“Buck,” Steve said, chasing after the man. “Bucky, hold on.” He finally caught up to him and grabbed onto his arms. He could see that he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“I can’t,” he struggled to say. His blue eyes were wide, frantically looking around. “I can’t be in the same room as her. I-”

“Sh,” Steve cut his boyfriend off. “I need you to breath for me. Can you do that for me?” Bucky hesitated but shook his head. The blonde sprang into action. He brought Bucky to the ground and sat with his back against the wall and Bucky between his legs. With Bucky’s back flushed against his front, he wrapped his arms around him. Steve started to breath, in for 5 and out for 5. Repeat. Repeat, until he felt Bucky’s breathing calm down.

Physical touch was usually never the answer to ground Bucky, especially after a nightmare. Steve learned the hard way when Bucky grabbed him by his throat and wouldn’t let go. But there were expectations to the rule especially when he couldn’t regulate his breathing. Steve rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder. He waited for Bucky to gather his thoughts. “Lately, I’ve found myself starring at her,” he began. “It was my body remembered her but my mind refused to.” Steve hummed, indicating that he was listening. “I almost killed her.” His voice shook.

“You and I both know that wasn’t you,” Steve said. Bucky turned around to face him.

“You don’t understand. When she said they held her down in that tub that was me. God Steve she’s just a kid.”

“And you were tortured and held against your will with no choice but to do those things,” Steve countered. He cupped his boyfriend’s cheeks, drawing circles with his thumb. “Do you blame her for what she did to you?”

“No..” Bucky whispered.

“Then I wish you’d offer yourself the same level of forgiveness,” Steve whipped away tears that fell from his blue eyes. “I can not fathom the guilt you carry, baby, and the path to moving forward is long and messy but you have to remember what you did for them wasn’t your choice. You were trapped,” Steve bit his lip before he could say it was partly on him that HYDRA got to Bucky but this wasn’t about him and Bucky didn’t need to hear about his guilt.

“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to face her.” Steve sighed, dropping his hands.

“I don’t think she blames you, Buck. But if you need time to process everything I’m sure she’ll give you that.” Bucky nodded, chuckling softly.

“What would I do without you, punk,” Steve smiled, kissing his forehead.

“Do you want to go back down or head to bed?” He had a feeling what he would chose but wanted to give him the option.

“Bed,” Steve chuckled, stood up, and pulled his boyfriend to his feet. He kept his hand tightly in his. Sam was right, the tower seemed to attract HYDRA’s puppets. He believed it was because everyone in the tower could help heal them.

*

You were fighting to keep your eyes opened as you rested on Kate’s lap with a movie playing. It was a Scooby-Doo movie but you were lost on the plot with sleep clouding your mind. Also, Kate running her fingers trough your hair wasn’t helping. But you were scared to fall asleep. You worried what monsters your mind would create. You were powerless to fight it and fell asleep.

*

On either side of you was a guard as you walked down the familiar hallways. They were armed with assault rifles and military armor with orders to shot on sight if you tried to escape. You weren’t going to escape. Every bone in your body hurt. There was a dark hole growing over your hear; accepting your fate here. They opened a door and pushed you in, not entering with you. Inside was a man, long brown hair and blue eyes. He was strapped to a chair, unable to move and no light in his eyes. The most striking part of his appearance was his one metal arm. “Hi little spark,” he stepped out of the corner. “Come here,” you took a few steps and took his out stretched hand. “This man right is very important to us. You can call him Winter.”

“Winter,” you said slowly but the man didn’t move.

“But even though he’s important to us doesn’t mean he’s free from punishment. Just like you.” you moved you behind Winter where there was a wooden box. “Up you get,” As you stood on the box, he let go of your hand. “Punish him.” He told you. You had a feeling what he wanted you to do but you couldn’t. Maybe he was mistaken. This man could die. Before you could protest, he grabbed your hands and put them on either side of his head. “I won’t ask again.” You nodded, licking your lips and focused your energy to your hands. It was a small electrical discharge, Winter didn’t make a sound. “Stronger,” you obeyed and this time Winter made a small noise. It was no where near your full strength and knew it. He grabbed on your hair and pushed you against the wall.

“Stop wasting my time,” he put his forearm against your throat. It was hard to get air into your lungs. “I will have him kill you, do you understand?” Kill me, you wanted to screamed, I want to die. You wanted this to be over.

“Yes papa,” you whispered and he released you. You sucked in some much needed air and stepped back on top of the box. Placing your hands on the side of his head, you let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled and released the electricity. He fought it and you were impressed by that. Soon he couldn’t fight it and he screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed.

*

You jerked away and fell onto the floor with a thud. “Jesus Christ,” Kate said. The movie paused. “Are you okay?” You scrambled to your feet, starring at your friends and heart pounding.

“Yeah,” you said, licking your lips. “Yeah, I’m great.” You chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle everyone.” You felt your hands shake and you placed them behind your back out of view. But Yelena saw. The Black Widow stood up and took your hands in hers. You tensed at the contact, you didn’t want to hurt her.

“A nightmare?” She questioned, sitting you back down on the couch. You nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. “Okay, then we can sit here until you are okay.”

“I’m fine,” you didn’t believe the lie you told your friends.

“Your shaking,” America whispered. You weren’t even aware you were.

“Oh,” you spoke softly.

“It’s okay, bud. We’ll sit here and watch the movie until you feel better.” You nodded as America continued the movie. As the movie played, the visual affects and funny dialogue helped your body relax. But in the back of your mind, all you felt was fear.

When your body stopped shaking, you excused yourself to your room. You took a cold shower to wash away the dream and changed into a long sleeve shirt and sleep shorts. But you knew you weren’t going back to sleep. So you sat on your bed with a book in your hands. It was going to be a long night.

_

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