#my all consuming love for the world becomes a weapon against me

[dysphoresque]

Clarice Lispector, The Stream of Life

[cosmicsully]

OBSESSED WITH YOU

aged up!Neteyamx aged up!human(f)!reader

Summary: In which…. Neteyam crosses paths with a human, but what is that sudden obsession with her, where did that need to protect her come from?

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff, Y/N’s personal space is quite literally violated by Neteyam, Y/N is the first Human Neteyam has ever seen, Neteyam barely speaks/understands English, kissing, slight make out, lowkey unrealistic storyline lmao

My Masterlist <3.

What are you called? = fyape syaw fko ngar Stay calm = mawey beautiful: (of people) = sevin take it off = kämunge tsal I want to see = Oe new ne kame hurry up = win säpi nefä so soft = nìftxan 'ango

I hope you enjoy! If you do, feel free to reblog, I might consider writing more parts to this :) <3

I can still remember how it happened. The day that I met Neteyam still lingers in my mind, the young Na´vi boy consuming my attention at all times.

About a week ago, I can still feel the soft breeze of air flushing against my legs, I remember smelling the green plants that had just been drowned in the heavy rain the previous night. The loving light of the warm sun embraces my figure as I walk across a muddy path, trying not to step on any kind of animal. I was outside although I was not allowed to leave the lab. Secretly slipping out of the back door, the mask that is pumping oxygen into my lungs well secured on my face, as I made it my new goal to explore Pandora further.

It is a memory I cherish. The adrenaline that runs through my veins as I took one step after the other, putting as much space as possible between me and the lab.

With the feeling of well-secured safety and no one having caught me fleeing from my home, I slowed my steps, taking in my beautiful surroundings. All kinds of exotic colorful plants surround my form, my eyes darting to one and then another, trying to see everything all at once. My ragged breathing slowed down as I sprinted across the mud, my feet now slightly covered in it.

I can’t help but feel joy consume me whole.

The beauty of Pandora yet again swallowed me, pulling me in. I let my feet work on their own, deciding on taking a small walk to find new interesting and unexplored corners. My fingertips glide against a pulsating bluish plant, as it vibrates against my hand in return, letting myself smile at the uncommon feeling.

This world is so alive.

It is beautiful, I hope its owners treat it well, with respect and cherish it just as I do. Although from the stories I have been told, Na’vi are very spiritual species who inhabit these forests. And now that I think of it, I have never truly seen a real Na’vi.

Dreamwalkers don’t count.

Not letting my mind linger on the thought of facing a real Na’vi, I continued my exploration, It felt like mere minutes, but because it was slowly becoming darker around me it must have been at least a few hours. The only sound that reaches my ears is my breathing from behind the thin glass that is covering my entire face, and the nature that I’m currently moving in. Deciding that I have seen enough for today and that Norm is most likely worrying about my well-being, I take a turn and walk to the path I have been walking all along and slowly but surely make my way back to the lab.

Just as I took a few steps, I heard a quiet huff and leaves moving behind a tree a few feet away from me.

Midway through me turning my head, a blue figure emerges from the bushes. There he stands. A tall male Na’vi. His stripes-covered skin glows underneath the small amount of light that is still falling on Pandora.

He is beautiful.

So beautiful the nature around me is no longer on my mind. All my focus and attention is now drawn to him as I see his fist tightening around a weapon that is firm in his right hand.

With quick movements, he is pointing an arrow at me.

“Wait- Wait- Wait-“ I start as his face wears an angry expression, his frown-covered face facing my direction. I can see his ears perk up at the words that left my mouth. The foreign language fills his head as he decides on killing or spearing me.

“fyape syaw fko ngar?” he hisses, flashing his fangs at me. His white teeth sparkle in the sun as he takes a big step closer to me. His sudden movement made me trip over, my backside making contact with the now slightly dried ground. Him now towering over me even more, his height is scary.

“I- I’m sorry I don’t understand you, please talk slower,” I say, trying to speak slowly, he probably doesn’t understand my words. He tilts his head in confusion, his eyes widening as he takes in my form. Here I am, halfway sitting up in the slightly muddy forest of Pandora. My eyes are fixated on the Na’vi that is towering above me.

“fyape. syaw. fko. ngar?” he repeats, now trying to talk as slow as I did. His pronunciation is now much clearer, his eyes squinting close as if he can see the wheels whirring behind my eyes. This situation throws me back multiple years, remembering the Na’vi lessons we were put through at the mere age of ten. He must have said something about me. Asking about my age? No that would not add up to the situation I’m currently in. Maybe he asked what my name is. That makes way more sense, him emerging from the forest, probably taking me in as a threat.

Slowly, I raise my hands on either side of my head a little, to show that I have no weapons on me, and don’t mean any harm to anyone. At my gesture his ears stand up, their previous position flattened against his head long gone. While doing so, his curiosity must have grown, he lowers his weapon, no meaning to harm me for now. The unknown Na’vi male lowers himself into a crouching position, as he fixates his bow on his back and secures the arrow back in its holder. With me still staying put on the ground, he starts to crawl over my much smaller form to take in my face.

His expression is still confused, but the curiosity must be getting a hold of him. He slowly makes his way above me, his face getting closer to mine, I can feel his warm breath hitting my cheek, his sparkly yellow eyes boring into my own. Pupils now grown bigger and bigger with each second that passes.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, my questioning tone must have shown him that I asked a question. He shakes his head in a way to tell me that he has no idea what I just said, but he doesn’t leave his current position, instead, he’s only inching closer to my body. His face slowly moved to the left side of my face, flattened nose touching my cheek and slowly moving down to my neck. His way of moving and actions remind me of an animal, I can feel him take a deep breath through his nose when it hits my pulse point. It’s like he’s taking in my scent, trying to burn it into his brain to never lose the smell of me.

His actions makes a shudder run down my spine, a shaky breath leaving my mouth only now realizing that I have been holding my lungs oxygen-free for the past minute, them now aching and burning for more.

He breathes me in again, this time with eyes closed, my scent filling his nostrils. My breathing stays unsteady, his presence making my heart quicken in my chest, he seems to notice that, his eyes now fixated on my chest, watching it rise and fall again. When my eyes caught his never leaving my chest, a frown forms on my face, my mouth gaping at him and my arms moving to cover my chest. Slightly uncomfortable under his stare that is on one of my most intimate parts.

He quickly shakes his head and uses one of his three-fingered hands -that is at least twice as big as mine- to move them away, his now gained free access to my chest making him move his head closer, the side of his face making contact with me, his ear hovering above my heart. My heartbeat echoes in his head, its beating pumping hot blood through my veins. Although he does not seem to have the intention to hurt me in any way, my heart doesn’t slow its fast beats. His heavy head makes contact with my chest, I can feel him resting his head completely.

He stays put for a few seconds, the sound of soft breaths leaving his nose hit my ears. My heart still hammers in my chest, continuing to reveal my unsure feelings about the moment and this stranger who is quite literally breaking the definition of personal space. He stirrers up removing his ear from my chest, now much softer yellow eyes meeting mine.

“Mawey.” he whispers. His soothing voice makes it seem like a sweet gesture, the way he talks, the way his eyes move from me to my chest, no, to my heart, its like he wants to tell me to relax. The next thing that catches his attention is the oxygen mask that covers my slightly blushing face. With one of his fingers he taps against the glass, the tap rather harsh as it shoots through the glass and right to my ears echoing softly.

"Neteyam." he speaks up, the pronunciation lingering in my mind. As he speaks, he points the finger that just tapped my mask to his chest, gesturing to himself, it seems to be his way of introducing himself to me.

"Y/N." I say telling him my name. His ears perk up as my voice hits him.

"Y/N…" he tries to pronounce my name just like I did, but fails miserably. I can´t help myself but let a giggle slip past my lips at his terrible attempt at pronouncing my name, squinting my eyes closed in the process. He doesn´t exactly laugh at my reaction, but what seems to be a small smile makes its way across Neteyams face. I like the way my name sounds when he speaks.

"Sevin." he whispers pointing at me again. His hand glides downwards to my own and he takes a look at it, his eyes fixated on my little finger. He slowly but surely wraps two of his fingers around it, completely engulfing my pinky with his. His hand is huge compared to mine. If he wanted to, he could cover my entire hand with his and nothing of my hand would be visible.

"Sevin?" I ask, questioning his last words, why did I barely pay attention when we were told simple words that are commonly used by Na´vi?

"Beautiful?" he now repeats, his accent thick as he tries to translate his words.

"You mean me?" I ask a little unsure, it is not unknown in the lab that Na´vi and humans don´t usually interact with one another, let alone find any interest in each other. He points his finger against my chest again, still trying to get me to understand that he thinks I´m pretty.

I can´t help but blush at his actions, not quite used to being complimented by someone.

"You´re beautiful too" I answer, already aware of the fact that he probably doesn´t understand what I just told him. So I point my finger at his chest just like he did to me and say

"Sevin."

His eyes fall to my pointer finger that is currently resting against his chest, his hands now following his eyes, a blue hand yet again engulfing my own. I feel a certain warmth spread through my chest.

Am I supposed to feel like this?

Probably not.

No, definitely not.

Then why does his presence feel so good? Why do I feel this special security with him? When his warm eyes meet mine?

His attention is now back on my face, the way he is now directly in front of me, allows me to take a closer look at his facial features. His yellow, big, cat-like eyes are pulsating with warmth and softness, his slightly flattened nose wrinkling when he senses new smell. He seems to be studying me just as I do him.

"kämunge tsal" he whispers, now again tapping against my oxygen mask.

Although I could not exactly translate his spoken words in my head, it must have been something about my mask. I shake my head hastily, if his intentions are about me taking it off he can forget it.

"Oe new ne kame" he urges me on, his eyes filled with curiosity and desperate pleading.

"Off," he says quickly his demanding tone fitting to his accent, his hand already finding the bottom of the mask and lifting it off of my face. His sudden actions make me gasp and quickly breathe in, to catch another wave of oxygen.

The mask is now all the way off, Neteyam places it on one of his muscular tights, but his vibrant eyes are darting across every moving muscle on my face. He studies me carefully as if he is afraid of breaking me with a grip that might be too firm for my body.

His left-hand moves to the right side of my head, the warm palm of his softly meeting me. His palm swallows half of my skull, it’s like a puzzle fitting, his piece connecting with mine. A few seconds later I have a sort of ticklish feeling against my upper thigh, his strong tail curling twice around it. The movement makes me blush, I feel my cheeks and half of my neck warming. It’s like Neteyam is trying to be as close as possible, though I can not really tell why.

His face inches closer to mine, he’s so close again that I can feel his breath on my lips, his eyes dare to look at them for a quick moment but just as he meets them he averts his gaze again. I can’t help it but copy his movement, my eyes darting down to his lips.

I can feel the atmosphere between us get turned upside down within one quick glance at his lips, a sort of tension building up.

What I’m doing here is insane.

I should be home by now.

Just as I can feel him getting even closer, the need for oxygen is growing and growing, my lungs aching for relief. My eyes shoot down to his leg hastily grabbing the mask that my body so desperately seeks. The moment it hits my face I take a deep breath, my heart beating at a quickening speed. Neteyam groans in response his hand falling from my head, instead both of his hands land on either side of my waist. As I try to steady my breathing, he pulls my smaller form into his lap.

"win säpi nefä" he lowly whines, making my eyebrows raise in confusion at his whining. He waits a few seconds for my chest to raise at a normal speed again, his eyes boring through mine as if he is asking for permission, although I can not quite tell for what.

"Enough" he orders now quite needy ripping the mask off my face, but before I can respond in annoyance, warm lips are pressed against my very own. My eyes widen at his sudden actions, I can`t hold back the quiet unexpected sigh that sounds like a soft moan leaving my lips.

Neteyam responds eagerly, his tongue now parting my lips ready to claim my mouth, the taste of me lingering on his tastebuds, he pulls me closer by my hips, the close proximity making him groan. The kiss quickly becomes feverish and passionate as his desire for more keeps growing. His hand moves to the back of my head keeping me in place to continue his almost assault on my lips. His rough palms skim down my waist to hook around my hips, pulling me flush against his chest.

It is something I have never felt before, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making my head dizzy. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen that was making me feel lightheaded.

I can´t help but try to pull away from him, his much stronger grip on me only tightening in response, in order to gain focus again I let my fingers tangle into his braids, softly tugging his lips away from mine. Neteyam growls in protest, chasing my lips with his but I lean back and reach down to put the mask that dangles down my body back on my face. As I keep filling my lungs with air, I look up through the thing glass with heavy-lidded eyes, my chest still heaving and my heart thrumming in my chest.

Neteyam pants softly, just as breathless as I am.

Behind Neteyam I can see his tail swaying with excitement from side to side, his own heavy eyes now focused on a part of my neck. He quickly connects his lips with my neck, softly coating it with open-mouth kisses. With his other hand, he gently tugs on my hair to expose my neck to his mouth. Not caring about the noises that could slip out of my mouth, I let a soft moan leave my lips at the feeling. That seems to urge him on further, his lips traveling from my neck, to my collarbone and lastly to my pulse point. It is the place he breathed me in earlier, he growls at the memory, lips quickly working at sucking on my delicate skin.

I close my eyes at the feeling of his soft but rough lips as they work against my sensitive skin, my mouth slightly agape at the pleasure that is shooting through every inch of my body.

"nìftxan 'ango" the Na´vi male moans against my neck, at the sound of a twig breaking somewhere in the distance, Neteyam quickly breaks away from my sensitive skin. His tail tightened around my thigh in a protective manner.

"Come" he hushes at me, now raising to his feet and full height, With one swift movement he claims my wrist in his hand sneaking around it in a soft grip. He pulls me up in no time as if I weigh nothing to him. I can feel myself hovering over the ground for a split second before he lets go of my wrist now fully placing me back on the ground I was laying on only minutes ago.

[kymerawrites]

BROKEN PROMISES

Summary; After being betrayed by your own organization, you turn to Simon Riley for revenge. He welcomes you into his dark world with open arms, and you fall for his charm. However, Simon's love is conditional and manipulative, and he exploits your pain for his own gain. As you become a pawn in his sinister game, you discover that there is no happy ending with a man like him.

I never imagined I'd find myself standing on the other side of the law, but after being betrayed by my own organization, turning to Simon Riley for revenge seemed like the only option left.

The shadows of the dimly lit warehouse loomed around me as I waited for him, the man known only as Ghost. Every whispered rumor about his ruthlessness echoed in my mind, but the sting of betrayal from those I once trusted burned hotter. As his silhouette emerged from the darkness, a chilling sense of foreboding washed over me. This was a dangerous game I was about to play, but the hunger for vengeance had already consumed me.

"You're late," his voice was cold, yet mesmerizing, cutting through the silence like a knife.

"I had to make sure I wasn't followed," I replied, trying to mask the fear and uncertainty in my tone.

His eyes, hidden behind the skull-patterned balaclava, seemed to pierce through me, assessing, calculating. "And why should I trust someone who's just switched sides? How come I should trust someone like you kyla?" He said slowly

"Because," I said, stepping closer, "no one knows my former team better than I do. I can give you everything you need to destroy them."

A slow, menacing smile curved beneath his mask. "Very well, but remember, loyalty to me comes with a price."

That was the begin of something destructive and irreversible.

Days turned into weeks as I immersed myself in the underworld I once fought against. Ghost was true to his word ‘loyalty to him came at a steep price.’ I found myself entangled in a web of deceit, violence, and power plays, each day pulling me further from the person I once was. The revenge I sought came with unforeseen consequences, and the closer I got to Ghost, the more I realized how deep his darkness ran.

The first step into Ghost's world was like diving headfirst into a pool of shadows, each promise he made, each smile that tugged at his lips, was a carefully crafted act of manipulation. Despite the danger, I couldn't help but be drawn to him.

As time went on, I found myself falling deeper into his web of darkness, blinded by my desire for revenge and the subtle charm he wielded like a weapon. He played me like a puppet, each string tugged with calculated precision.

"You're not here to make friends, doll. You're not here to trust." That was something he'd say often

The late nights became a haze of alcohol fueled debauchery and shattered promises. Ghost's presence loomed over me, his voice a drug that sent my senses reeling. There were times when he'd hold me, his touch a mix of tenderness and possessiveness, just barely brushing the line of cruelty, as if testing my limits.

"You're mine," he'd whisper, his breath hot against my skin, "and I don't share my toys. Remember that."

As the nights bled into days, I found myself trapped in a cycle of torment. Ghost's love was a twisted, manipulative game of give and take, a constant battle for power. One day, he'd be gentle, his touch soft and soothing, the next a storm of passion mixed with cruelty.

"You're a distraction," he'd tell me, his eyes cold and devoid of all emotion. "You're a weakness I can't afford."

"Then why do you keep me around?" I once asked, the pain in my voice echoing through the room.

He'd turn his gaze to me, a flicker of something dark and dangerous in his eyes. "Because, doll, you're not just a weakness." He'd take a step closer, the air between us crackling with tension. "You're a toy I can't quite put down yet."

The days when his eyes would go cold and devoid of all life were the most torturous. He'd treat me like a mere tool, his touch harsh and biting, his words a barrage of insults and harsh truths.

"You're a liability, love," he'd say, his hands grasping my wrists, holding me against the wall. "You're nothing but a complication."

"I am not a complication!" I'd fight against his grip, my heart racing, my mind spinning from the clash of emotions.

He’d press closer, his body pinning me to the wall, the heat from his body making me shiver. A sinister smile would play on his lips, a cold gleam in his eyes. "Oh, but you are," he growl. "A beautiful, messy complication that I both hate and cannot get enough of."

I always felt the question, was this the right decision? Why did I ever resort to ally with our biggest enemy as an act of vengeance. The moment Simon layed eyes on me he knew he could have me in the palm of his hands, at his mercy.

Ghost had a way of sensing weakness and exploiting it, and he knew from the first moment he laid eyes on you that you were ripe for the taking. He could see the fire burning in your eyes, the fierce determination to seek revenge. He could see your vulnerability, the raw pain and anger lurking just beneath the surface.

With a sly smile, he'd reach out and gently caress your cheek, his touch both gentle and possessive. His voice would be a seductive whisper in your ear, "You came to me because you were desperate. You came to me because you had nowhere else to turn."

Ghost's words were a masterclass in manipulation, each one carefully calculated to mold you into what he wanted you to be. The sweet words were a honey trap, a temporary release from the harsh reality of your situation. The mean words were designed to chip away at your resolve, to remind you of your helplessness.

And the devoid and emotionless words were there to dehumanize you, to remind you that you were nothing more than a toy in his games. But it was the passionate words that were the most dangerous.

One evening he had an informant who posed as a driver for one of the other men in his gang on the floor, I knew him that was one of my old teammates, the moment he saw me he went mad, rampaging a lot of slurs and words which most couldn’t be made out

Ghost stood back, silently watching the scene unfold, a smirk on his lips. He enjoyed this, seeing the pain and suffering play out before him.

"Seems like you know him," he said casually, leaning against a wall.

My teammate went on to call me all the names in the book “you dirty lying bitch! I knew you would end up doing the wrong thing, oh I hope you’ll get mauled when the rest sees you when you have no where to hide anymore!” He screamed

I looked at him coldly and chuckled, my gaze darkened as I looked him in the eye “Simon, why do you let this nothing worth loser disrespect you, and me.. no one should disrespect you or his woman.. isn’t that right?” I smirked as I turned around to face Simon.

This was the first time I acted like this, like I belonged in this position, next to him. As if I was his backbone

Ghost's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise in his gaze. He was not accustomed to seeing you take charge like this. You had always been the submissive one, the one following his lead, obeying his orders. But now, you stood there, exuding a confidence that he had never seen before.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "My, my," he chuckled, his voice a low rumble. "Looks like someone's found their spine."

Simon walked towards the man, who was held down by 2 of his other man. Guns pressed to his side

The man's eyes widened in terror as Ghost sauntered towards him. The air grew tense, thick with the promise of violence.

Ghost came to a stop right in front of the man, looking down at him like a predator sizing up his prey. "You had a lot to say just now, didn't you?" he growled, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone.

"Insults, name-calling, threats... all pretty bold words for someone in your position." Ghost's lips curled into a sinister smile as he leaned down, his eyes locked on the man's terrified face.

"But you seem to forget," he whispered, his voice dripping with menace, "that I don't tolerate disrespect. Not towards me, not towards my people. And definitely not towards her." He gestured towards you with a nod.

The man's face paled as he realized his mistake. He had crossed a line by disrespecting you, and now he was facing the full wrath of Ghost.

"Please," he whimpered, struggling against the men holding him down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

Ghost cut him off with a sharp backhand to the face. "Too late for apologies," he snarled. "You had your chance to show respect, and you blew it."

Ghost had zero tolerance for disloyalty and disrespect, that much was clear. The former teammate who had once been part of your team now found himself on the wrong end of Ghost's wrath.

"You forget who you're talking to," Ghost growled, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at the man. "My word is law, and your words are nothing but trash."

Simon clicked his finger and told me to come, as I walked towards Simon he put a gun in my hand “prove to me that the reason you came to me wasn’t a lie. Prove to me you are loyal to me.” He said coldly

Your heart pounded in your chest as Ghost handed you the gun, his words ringing in your ears. This was it, the moment of truth. He wanted you to prove your loyalty, to show him that you hadn't made a mistake coming to him.

You took the gun, the cold, hard metal feeling unfamiliar in your hand. You looked up at Ghost, his eyes cold and calculating as they gazed at you.

"What do you want me to do?" you asked, your voice steady despite the fear that gripped you.

“Show ur revenge, show ur vengeance” he said leaving me to finish the job

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you aimed the gun at the trembling form of your former teammate. This was the moment you had ached for, the chance to exact your revenge on those who betrayed you.

Ghost watched you intently, his gaze unwavering as you stood ready to pull the trigger. His eyes were dark and emotionless, no trace of the man you had come to know during your time with him. This was the ruthless, coldhearted version of him, the one who expected total obedience and loyalty.

You felt the weight of the situation press down on you, the lives of other people in your hands. But Ghost's command echoed in your head, demanding that you prove your loyalty to him.

With one last deep breath, you steadied your aim and pulled the trigger, ending the life of a man who was part of the betrayal.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the smoke cleared, the room falling silent. You had done it, you had taken revenge on one of the people who had betrayed you.

Ghost watched you silently, his eyes locked on yours. He nodded slowly, a hint of approval in his eyes. "Well done," he said quietly. "You certainly proved your loyalty to me."

Ghost's touch was gentle yet possessive as he cupped your cheek, his eyes tracing over your face. There was a hint of something dangerous in his gaze, a dark thrill that stirred within him. He motioned for his men to leave, and as the room cleared, he leaned in close to you.

"There's a place I want to take you," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. "Somewhere less... messy."

That evening he gave me the best love he had, moaning, whimpers, hot candle wax and a lot of pain inflicting and pleasure was made

That night, Ghost unleashed a side of himself that you had never seen before. He was rough and demanding, his touch leaving deep, pleasurable marks on your skin. He moved with a sense of purpose and intensity, his eyes locked on yours as he took you to places of pleasure and pain.

"You're mine," he growled in your ear, his voice low and possessive. "And I'm going to make damn sure you never forget it."

You were caught in a web of desire and passion, blind to the fact that Ghost's love was a toxic, twisted game. He had consumed you, his cruel words and rough touch molding you into something both beautiful and broken.

But as the night wore on, a sense of foreboding settled over you. You knew deep down that this was not the happy ending you had hoped for, that being tangled up with a dangerous man like Ghost would only lead to pain and destruction.

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter Parker's Guilt Complex

Uncle Ben died because he didn't step up. If he isn't using his powers for good, then he's using them for bad. There is no neutrality for him, no stepping away from Spider-Man. We see this shown in Captain America Civil War:

"when you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen? they happen because of you"

Peter takes responsibility for the city of New York's safety all in his own back. Tony Stark validates him as a hero by having him fight alongside and against the Avengers, which fuels his belief that he's able to take on more than petty crime (when Tony doesn't provide anything more high-stakes, he takes his own risks. if bigger, badder things are out there and he isn't there to stop them? his fault.)

He can't step away, even for his own safety (his fault his fault his fault)

When he nearly dies in that collapsed building in homecoming it becomes glaringly obvious that there are no other heroes coming to save him. Even Peter Parker needs Spider-Man to save him; this only hammers in the idea that he can never rest as a hero, because then who else will save the city?

Peter drops his extracurriculars, stops hanging out with his friends. He becomes consumed with his hero identity (no breaks no time what if they need me what if there's danger what if I was having fun or doing homework while someone was dying?).

Then Peter becomes an Avenger, fights in a war, and loses people. Loses Tony. He's 16 and he just saved the world - so he takes a break. Goes to Europe with his class. Aunt May snuck the Spider-Man suit in his bag; the red and blue follow him like a ghost and he's haunted by expectations to save the world, to be the next Stark.

And Fury is there to remind him once again what a failure he is (step up, fight, no breaks. my fault my fault my fault). And for the first time in his career he considers that maybe the world is better without Spider-Man. Maybe he just makes things worse.

Beck is better. Beck will fix things. Peter chooses to be just a little selfish for once and hands over the Stark legacy to someone more qualified so he can go kiss a pretty girl.

It backfires; Peter's guilt nearly swallows him whole. Not only did he shit on everything great Tony thought he was, but now he's handed a super weapon to the latest villain hell bent on killing him and his friends (the people around me get hurt the people I care about the people that I put in danger my fault my fault my fault).

When his identity is revealed maybe a small part of him thinks he deserves this. The public may have the details wrong but in the end they're right, he's a fraud and a danger. He hurts the people he loves, lets them down and puts them in harm's way.

Ned and MJ can't get into MIT because of him, he tries to fix it. He messes up the spell, he tries to fix it. May dies and he can't fix it (my fault my fault my fault).

He lets them go. Blinded by his guilt he can no longer see the light and love he brought into people's lives, only the darkness he's stained them with. He cuts the strings and along with it goes some of the guilt that weighs him down, but where the guilt resided is now a gaping hole of loneliness, his chest as hollow as the apartment he now lives in.

On nights where he misses Ned's laughter, and MJ's witty comments, May's hugs, and working in Tony's lab, he still hears the voice in his head reminding him my fault my fault my fault. Though instead of guilt it only brings melancholy and resignation. This decision has to be the right one because the only person it's hurting is himself.

Peter Parker was a guilty man. So he gave up everything he had until there was nothing left to be guilty for.

Peter Parker is a selfless man.

[reds-skull]

BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

I was gonna upload this yesterday, but AO3 was down -_-

This is a fucking monster of a chapter, 4.2k words! So it's practically 2 chapters lol. Had a love-hate relationship with this one...

It is called "A Secret Disease".

Page 42 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 14:

This Beast took our children, one villager cried, It left our yields wilted and decayed, another added, O Blind Man, why can’t you kill this wretched thing, Free our realm from this monster, this blood-soaked daemon? The Blind Man asks, my friend, Have you taken their young? Have you wilted their harvest? The Beast attests, I have, O fallen knight, I have, I was a terrible thing, before I had anyone to see me, As more than a monster, as more than a Beast. The Blind Man understands, he knows well, That to be seen, is to be.

It was not Roba who buried him first. Simon has been sinking to the earth, long before he enlisted. His father dragged him down, along his brother, to a path of monsters. At a young age, his fate was already sealed-

(You will not get to be human)

The military was a last ditch effort to veer away from it. Fight against forces greater than him, fight against legacies written in shades of bruises and blood. Simon thought he won, for a fleeting moment. He had a squad, a leader, a mentor.

(Yet Simon didn’t realize, he was a man living with one foot in the grave)

It didn’t matter how much he clawed his way out, it was far too easy to drag him back in.

Beneath that tomb, Simon had to leave himself behind. He wouldn’t survive another fall. And so, Ghost rose, a faceless weapon, a monster of his own making. Shaped for battle, honed on the screams of the damned.

His path was clear. Ghost would fight and fight, until his body was left broken. And the world will go on with one less killer desecrating its soil.

(Yet, that is not where he’s destined anymore, is he?)

The hole in the back of his mask burns, as if the knife truly stabbed through him. Another death. Yet instead of killing Simon, it…

“Ghost is dead. What will ye become now?”

A gentle wind passes over Ghost, as he lines his shots and downs the endless waves of the Hunter’s soldiers.

He’s distracted. Compromised. Not only by the poison flowing through his veins, but by the hypnotic movements of a Sergeant, who once was, and now is returning for more.

Simon may be a weapon, but Johnny is a perfect storm. An uncontrollable disaster. An unescapable fate.

Soap has taken command over the civilians, easily slipping back into his role as a soldier. Ten have advanced to the left, and Johnny took the right, along with five more. Ghost watches over him, admiring how he takes down a whole hallway of hostiles by himself, clearing the way for the civvies to get into cover and fire.

It makes his heart beat faster, a heat rise within him. That all consuming want, the one first lit after they saved Price and Gaz, stokes even higher. How he wishes he could feel the weight of him on his chest again-

Fucking hell. Ghost groans lowly. He needs to focus. On the battle, on the civvies, on Soap…

On the creeping chill that encompasses his arms, the ice dripping down his spine, numbing his nerves.

No. Not now. He can’t lose control now!

Ghost grits his teeth, the shaking setting in his muscles. He has to push through, the enemy soldiers are realizing Soap’s plan, diverting their attention to the side hallways. He shoots a few trying to flank the left group, forcing his arms to move despite the immense pain.

Ghost could only last until he turned his scope to the right, then his limbs fall limp, like a puppet with no strings. He grunts, almost snarling like an animal, commanding his muscles to fucking move. His orders are left unfulfilled. 

“Fuck…” Ghost breathes, eyes lifting from his arms to the scope. What he sees makes the fight leave him, a dread stilling his heart.

Johnny is down. Arms around his neck, his face grows paler. His knife, the one that dug Simon out of the grave with, out of reach.

“I won’t die, Simon.”

“Johnny…” Simon whispers, a plea to an uncaring world. “C’mon…”

(Fight back)

His blue eyes fog over, the lack of oxygen slowing him to a halt. Simon’s thoughts scream to him-

(Don’t give up)

Johnny grips his attacker, clawing nails becoming an almost accepting hold. He’s giving up.

“Please…”

Simon feels his rib cage tear open. (You can’t die here) Poison freezes his lungs. (I can’t go back to before)

(Please don’t leave me-

Johnny’s eyes sharpen. An electrifying shock goes through Simon, restarting his heart.

Ba-dump

Soap shoves the arm over his face.

Ba-dump, Ba-dump

He opens his mouth.

Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump

And bites.

Ba-dump-Ba-dump-Ba-dump-Ba-dump-

Simon sees the blood, the hostile’s mouth curl into a scream. Soap leans forward, flipping the man over. In a flash, he finds the castaway knife, and buried it in the still shrieking throat. Johnny shakily lifts from the ground, his front dripping blood.

He looks terrifying. He looks… breathtaking.

“There’s more to us than heroes and monsters, Simon.”

Ghost doubted Soap then. The world seemed so clear-cut, painted only in shades of black and white. Good and bad. Ghost, a monster. Soap, a hero.

Covered in blood, teeth bared and gaze burning, Soap didn’t look like either.

Maybe a hero can be a monster.

Maybe Simon could become more.

Ghost has been through every kind of torture imaginable, by the cruelest hands to be conceived.

This? This was a new low.

Helpless like a newborn, all he could do is try and track Johnny through the battle. The building often got in his line of sight, and not once Ghost’s mind tried to convince him-

He’s dead-He’s dead-He’s dead-

After far too long, a tingling sensation started at the tips of his fingers. Ghost clenched his jaw, flexing the muscles and working through the pain, and the moment he could, he jumped to his feet. 

He rather be paralyzed on the field next to Johnny, then stay up here.

Swiftly, he makes his way to the plaza, sliding down the ladder and running. Many of the entrances are blocked, likely an attempt from the civvies to secure the area, but he finds a back door left forgotten.

Or, so Ghost thought at first. Coming closer, he tracks several figures huddling out.

They’re far too small to be soldiers. These are… children.

The older ones seem to push them out, trying to run away from the fight. They must’ve recognized it’s a losing battle…

Ghost needs to get to Johnny. There’s no knowing what he’s facing right now, if he’s broken, if he’s cornered.

But Simon… Simon wants to help the kids. He can’t stand watching little ones die, abandoned in war zones by all but gods of death.

Simon squares his shoulders. The tension lingering from the poison, the fear, it all cinches on his cold heart. 

For the first time in years, he chooses to listen to Simon.

“Oi!” he calls to them, and they instantly freeze, eyes wide. The older kids step forward, pushing their siblings behind. Right, scary soldier with a gun. Ghost lowers his pistol. It hurts, in a way it hasn’t since…

Since Joseph-

Simon takes hold of the skull stitched to his balaclava, and slides it off his face. “I’m not with them.”

One kid, holding a baby not older than one, pipes up, “you are… with the other soldier? With the weird hair?”

Simon smiles despite himself, “yeah, that’s the one.”

“Can you help us?” another girl says. She holds her arm, blood spreading on her sleeve.

He takes more steps towards them, now that they trust him, “has anyone stayed behind?”

The kids look at each other, seemingly counting heads. “No.” the boy answers.

“Good. Follow me. Be quiet.” Simon takes out his gun once more, now with about twenty children trailing him. Christ, how did he get here?

Simon leads the group away from the fight, straining his ears for any hostiles. They walk through dark alleys, musty with spilled beers and piss. The gunshots from the plaza quiet as they get farther. He motions them to stop when they reach a more open area, littered with parked vehicles and ammo boxes. This must be where the Hunter’s soldiers left their supplies.

Ghost puts the mask back on, “stay here. I’ll make sure no bad guys are still around.” the older ones nod, pushing the children into the shadows.

The more he clears, the clearer it becomes that this place is the Hunter’s soldiers’ makeshift outpost - their base of operations for the attack on the plaza. It makes cold dread trickle through him.

He didn’t lie when he told Johnny it’s all his fault. If he never accepted this contract, if he didn’t run away, if he didn’t survive…

All of these children’s parents would’ve still been alive.

Ghost shakes those thoughts away. He needs to focus.

If he could destroy this place, he could starve out the hostiles of bullets… but the civvies won’t survive that long. Better yet, getting these supplies to them and Soap…

He returns to the kids, removing the mask once more, “no bad guys.” Simon surveys their options; he certainly can’t leave the children here, but where could he take them that would be any safer?

A loud explosion rattles the windows around them, a few kids breaking into sobs. Johnny must be giving them hell.

“...Mister?” a little kid stutters, “where now?”

Ghost turns to look at them. About half are not in a state to continue much farther, either too young or wounded. They need to find somewhere, fast.

“After me.” he searches for a house with a basement, a place he could barricade and rig. He may not be a demolition expert like Soap, but he can handle a claymore mine. A hurried search results in finding a two-storey house, with a door in the back leading to a wine cellar. Must’ve belonged to someone rich, not that money matters anymore.

Ghost is about to leave the kids, when he notices how they’re shivering in the cold basement. “Stay here.”

The house, luckily, is well stocked, and quickly enough Ghost manages to scrounge up a good pile of blankets and thick winter jackets. They’re not kid-sized, but that’s probably for the better. He returns to the children, and their eyes light up when they receive what he gathered.

“Alright.” Ghost crouches down, “which ones of you know English well?”

The kids that previously talked to him raise their hand.

“Listen very carefully.” Ghost gives the boy the key to the cellar, “when I leave, you have to lock the door. Do not open it to anyone you don’t recognize, and do not, I repeat, do not get out on your own.” the kids look at him attentively, seriousness beyond their years in their eyes. “I’m going to set traps for the bad guys, so they won’t enter, but it means you also can’t leave. Repeat what I’ve told you.”

The wounded girl says, “don’t open the door to strangers, don’t go out alone. Traps outside the door, bad guys can’t come in.”

“Good. Now-”

The boy cuts him off, “what if you don’t come back?”

Ghost studies him, a challenge in his brown eyes. Reminds him of… Tommy.

“I’ll come back.”

“You can’t promise that”, the boy frowns, “the-they’re strong, they can kill you-!”

Ghost sighs. He brings out the mask he left at his side to show the pair, “you know why I wear this mask?”

The kids shake their heads, “I wear it to scare my enemies. I wear it because I’m their worst nightmare. I wear it so they think I’m a monster, and you know how strong monsters are, right?”

The kids nod, eyes locked on his grotesque skull staring back. “What do they call you?” the girl asks lowly.

“Ghost.”

They repeat, in their own language. Ghost hesitates for a moment, before clasping a hand on each of their shoulders, “you’re strong, I can tell. Stay strong a little bit longer, alright?”

They nod again, but Ghost watches them suppress the emotions brimming in their eyes.

As Ghost closes the door, and the boy comes up to lock it, he whispers a small, “good luck.”

Ghost lets him see his smile before he covers it with the skull mask.

Ghost sighs, raising to his feet. The claymores are set, creating a minefield around the house. The children’s last line of defence.

He returns to the makeshift outpost. There are a few vehicles he can use, so he starts loading one full of ammo and guns.  Spotting a few first aid kits, Ghost shoves them in as well. He’s already aware of one injured…

Possibly dead-

The truck shakes when he slams the door shut. Rifle laid on his lap, he shifts gears to drive out. Towards the gunshots, towards the explosions. 

Towards Johnny.

It doesn’t take long for bullets to start flying his way. He spots a group of hostiles pushing the civvies out of cover expertly. They would’ve been annihilated in a heartbeat, overwhelmed by sheer numbers-

If Ghost didn’t barrel straight through the soldiers, crushing them under the tires. He barely swerves away from a wall, coming to a stop right besides the civilian group. He jumps out, about to bark orders, when he freezes.

“Ghost?!” a Scottish voice asks behind him, and he turns so fast it hurts his neck.

Johnny, blood still covering his front. Alive, alive, alive.

Ghost shakes away the emotions swelling in his gut. If he lets even a shred of them show, it all would come hurling out, an ugly, disgusting mess, rotten and-

“Sitrep, Sergeant.”

Soap narrows his eyes, like he can tell how Ghost is barely holding onto the mess writhing inside him, “solid. Ye?”

“Likewise.” he quickly turns to the trunk, avoiding Soap’s knowing gaze, “what’s the latest?”

Ghost suppresses a shiver when Soap comes to stand beside him, “we opened 2 fronts on the hostiles, ye just helped us clear this one. Other side’s status is unknown.” the Sergeant picks up a box of ammo, “where did ye find all this?”

Soap motions someone to take the box, letting him spread it among the civvies, “there’s an outpost, 10 minutes away from ‘ere”, Ghost drags out a couple PDSW 528, “there’s… something else as well.”

He makes eye contact with Soap, “found a group of kids.”

The civilians around Ghost snap their gaze to his, “stashed them in a basement, secured. We need to go back for ‘em.”

He can’t name the emotion in Johnny’s eyes. “Ye…?” he exhales, relieved, “aye, I can send a couple to watch over ‘em.”

“Negative, set mines around the perimeter.”

Johnny huffs a laugh at that, “of course ye did.” his expression is warm, too warm.

Simon turns away. “Where’s the second group?”

The civilians start reloading their weapons, some replacing their pistols with the new SMGs, others using the kits to patch themselves up. Soap points back to the plaza, where gunshots still echo in the cool night air, “still holed up there. Was planning to flank the bastards.”

Soap turns to leave, but Ghost takes hold of his bicep before he can think better of it, “Johnny-”

The words dry up on his tongue. His gaze is stuck on the drying crimson over Soap’s face, and his grip tightens. “...Simon?” Johnny whispers, too low for the others to hear.

God, he can’t help but love the way it sounds between his bloodied lips.

It feels out of his control, his slow movements as he bends down, gently touching his mask to Johnny’s forehead. Out of his hands, when his eyes slip shut, brows furrowed yet for the first time since he became paralyzed on that roof, Simon breathes.

Johnny is uncharacteristically silent, probably thinking how fucking weird he’s acting right now. Simon can’t bring himself to care. Not when he can almost feel Soap’s warmth bleed through the mask.

Warmth that only comes from being alive.

A hand touches his nape, slowly curling around it. It makes Simon shudder. He opens his eyes, to see Johnny’s, and that alone is stronger than any truth serum out there, “I saw it.”

“Saw what?”

Simon leans in closer, “when he tried to kill you. I couldn’t- the poison…”

“You wouldn’t have had a clear shot.”

He knows. It frustrates him.

Johnny forces their faces apart by the hold on Simon’s neck, “let’s finish this.” he squeezes before releasing Ghost.

There are words left unsaid in the air between them. Things Simon can’t even begin to formulate. One stands odd out of all, and it confuses him.

He thinks, if he won’t acknowledge it, won’t let the thought take shape in his mind, it won’t affect him. Like a child hiding under his blankets, as if not seeing the monster would protect him. Yet he knows, it won’t save him.

It won’t save Simon from wanting.

The second front is a mess. The Hunter’s soldiers, after realizing they lost the first, focused their attack back on the plaza. The once white walls and floors are now charred black and red, Soap’s explosions certainly taking a huge part in that.

“There.” Soap stops him, spotting a makeshift barricade, “that’s ours.”

Ghost takes out his knives, “we can take some of them quietly, ‘fore they notice something’s up. Think you’re up for that, Sergeant?”

Soap scoffs, “was born ready, LT-” he shuts his mouth when he realizes his mistake.

His guts churn at the name, “...let’s see how good you are, Johnny.”

Ghost starts towards the hostiles, trusting Soap to keep up.

As he slits the throat of a soldier, his mind takes him back to days long gone. He wipes the blood off his blade and continues, a predator stalking for another victim.

They called him LT back then, too. His Sergeants. Looked up at him with full trust, put their lives on the line at his word, gave him the leash to control. As they were ordered to, as they signed their lives for.

And Simon led them to ruin. To the cold hands of betrayal.

Johnny doesn’t look at him like that. There’s doubt, there’s a want to push back against his lead, a trust he has yet to earn. Ghost can tell.

As blood drips down his sleeves, he tells himself it’s different. This time, it won’t end like that. He begs, to a God that never listened, that it won’t end like that.

Simon Riley won’t survive another grave.

It takes the hostiles a pathetically long time to notice something was wrong. It’s only when the civvies advance forward, steps loud and guns louder, that the wankers think to look back and find the mounting pile of corpses Soap and Ghost have left behind.

Ghost doesn’t relish in the fear in their eyes like he used to. Johnny takes the soldier out, letting out an exhale, and nodding determinately at him.

Perhaps there are more comforting views in the world, than watching the life bleed out of your enemies.

The civvies take care of any stragglers, some surprising him with their aim. He supposes there’s no better teacher than a war on your own home. Not that he’d know. Never had something to fight for, beside survival.

It’s only a few moments later, that the plaza finally grows quiet, and gunshots are no more than a phantom echo. He and Johnny were taught to never trust appearances, and take time to sweep the open court, the hallways, the bloody floors and broken doors. For once, all is silent.

The Hunter’s soldiers are no more.

The war rages on, but this battle is finished. Returning to the central court, Ghost sets off for one of the trucks. Twenty small figures plague his mind, and he has a promise to fulfill.

Footsteps echo behind him, and Ghost doesn’t need to turn around to know their owner.

“Yer going to get the wee ones, aren’t ye?”

“Affirm.” he’s about to climb to the driver sit, before Johnny pulls his shoulder. Ghost glares at him, but his intimidation tactics don’t seem to work on the Sergeant anymore.

Soap slides to the sit instead, “no offence sir, but yer driving is shite.”

Ghost grumbles, “never killed anyone I didn’t want to with it.”

“See, tha’s yer problem. Standards so low they’re practically in hell-”

He slams the door, “shut the fuck up, Soap, fucking ‘ell…”

The Sergeant smiles as he starts the vehicle. Ghost notices a shake in his arms, and frowns.

“You said you were solid.”

Johnny’s smile fades, “Ah am.” he huffs, “it’s… I’m just knackered. Be right as rain after.”

The answer displeases him. Sure, they’re both soldiers, they’re trained to fight in the worst conditions possible…

But he wants better for Johnny. Even if wanting is dangerous.

It’ll have to wait. The house comes into view. 

He’s lucky Soap decided to come with. Setting up mines is easy enough for an idiot to do blind. Disarming a dozen without blowing up? A little harder.

Johnny doesn’t complain, fingers deft as he expertly takes the charges apart. Ghost takes the moment to watch him work, admire the way the bombs click, wires twist, the muscles under Soap’s shirt bulging with every movement-

Dangerous line of thought there. He refocuses on the last mine, the telltale click of it signifying they’re in the clear.

He walks down to the cellar door, and knocks, “it’s Ghost, no bad guys around. Open up.”

A few moments later, the door rattles, metal scraping on the concrete floor, and it swings open, revealing the boy.

“You… you came back.” his voice wobbles, eyes wide in disbelief.

It makes Ghost wonder how many people promised this little one to come back, only to never return.

He wonders if his family ever felt like that when he didn’t-

“I told you”, he crouches down, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, “I’m stronger than them.”

The boy’s face crumples, and he startles Ghost by jumping forward, looping his small arms around him. The little body in his arms start to shake, sobs barely muffled by his gear. Ghost slowly wraps his hands around him, motions unfamiliar. Ones he only dreamt of, in musty living rooms and dirty basement.

He can hear Soap walk around him to check on the others. The boy in his arms pulls away a tad, his face splotchy and teary. Ghost takes off a glove to wipe them.

“I-I’m sorry.” the boy whispers.

Ghost tilts his head, “what for?”

“I wasn’t strong. I cried, like, like a baby-”

Ghost cuts him off, “you know what makes someone strong?”

The boy shakes his head, so Ghost continues, “it’s not someone who is never afraid. It’s someone that, despite being afraid, still fights.”

“Are you ever afraid, then?”

Simon looks over his shoulder at Soap, checking on the injured girl’s arm. The blood over his features has yet to fully dry. “...Terrified.”

They don’t all fit in the truck Soap and Ghost arrived in, so he stays behind with the kids while Soap goes back and forth.

“Yer gonna scare ‘em with yer driving, ye feckin’ animal.”

The kids seem to like him better than Soap anyway, which came as a surprise to both of them, considering his mask was still on. Johnny took it in stride, smiling softly at him in a way that makes him want.

Want what, he doesn’t dare think.

On the last round, four children cram in the back of the truck, two more toddlers balanced on Ghost’s lap. Soap doesn’t speak, and he notices his eyes flagging for a moment, before snapping open again.

The civilians welcome the children with open arms, some crying in happiness. ‘You did good’, a thought flashes in his head.

He lets a woman take the toddlers off his arms, and walks to the small group. The kids’ eyes instantly light up, and the ones that can rush towards him, calling “Ghost! Ghost!”. They say more, excitedly telling him things in their mother tongue, and even if he can’t understand, he still smiles and nods, letting them prattle on.

When he looks up, something’s wrong.

Some of the civilians have stopped moving, stare stuck on him. A woman stomps to him, dragging the kids back, almost shouting at them when they try to shake her hold off.

Johnny comes to stand next to him, “what’s going on? Alma?”

The woman, Alma, almost growls out, “tell me this” she points to him, “isn’t the Ghost.”

“He-”

“I am.” Ghost speaks over Soap. 

Alma’s eyes grow wide, before they start spitting fire, “get out of here.” she grounds in a ice-cold tone.

Soap comes to stand between them, “it wasn’t in his control-”

“He’s the reason these monsters attacked!” she starts yelling, “he’s why we’re here, fighting for our damn life! Why our children are BLEEDING AND DYING!”

Soap falters. “I’ll say it once.” Alma snarls, “get out, before we make you get out.”

The group is silent, all eyes on him. Ghost nods.

He deserves less than this, if he’s honest with himself.

“I’ll leave. I’m… sorry for… this.”

“Don’t.” Alma huffs, “we don’t need your apologies.” she turns to Soap, “you can stay. We can take care of your injuries, if you go to Helena-”

Soap shakes his head, “don’t worry ‘bout it.” he looks back at Ghost, “I’m going with him.”

Ghost’s brow rise, “Johnny, you don’t need-”

“Aye, Ah know.” Johnny pats his shoulder, before walking away for the vehicles, “I want to.”

Ghost stands frozen for a moment, before he follows him.

Behind, he can hear the children saying goodbye, the adults holding onto them.

Away from the monsters.

[starcrossedlovrs]

Marauders meets My Chemical Romance: The second book of the series “May Death Never Stop You”: “Danger Days” by me, starcrossedlovrs (AO3).

Rating: Mature. Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

After the devastating loss of his closest friends and his fiancée, James Potter finds himself in a perilous situation, forced into an uneasy alliance with the enigmatic Regulus Black. As they embark on a desperate mission against Voldemort, James must navigate a world of darkness and deception, grappling with his own grief and forbidden desires. In this sequel to I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, loyalties are tested, and love becomes both a weapon and a refuge. Will their fragile bond survive the shadows that threaten to consume them, or will their pasts destroy any hope of a future together?

An excerpt of the 19th chapter “Oh Wait, Oh”:

Three days had passed before James finally opened his eyes. In the dark he searched for Regulus, but he wasn’t there. James stretched his aching arms, feeling the stiffness in his muscles. His throat was parched, and his stomach gnawed with hunger. The last thing he could remember was Regulus tossing him a bottle of water before he’d passed out.

Regulus.

For a moment, James let the thought of him linger. If he wanted, Regulus could be nice. Even to James. Maybe…

The sound of someone climbing the ladder interrupted his thoughts. A moment later, Regulus’s head appeared through the trapdoor, his eyes widening slightly when he saw James awake.

“You’re up,” Regulus said, flipping on a small lantern, and James could’ve sworn there was relief in his voice.

“Yeah, just woke up. How long was I out?”

“Three nights.” Regulus settled on the other side of the room, watching him closely. It was different from the way he usually looked at James. This was more intense, like he was searching for something.

James frowned, sitting up a little straighter. “What? Do I have drool on my face or something?”

Regulus shook his head, but didn’t stop staring. “No.”

“Then what is it?” James’s voice was more nervous than he intended. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Regulus hesitated, then took a deep breath. “You talked in your sleep.”

James’s stomach dropped. What had he said? His mind raced, trying to remember anything from those hazy days, but all he could recall was Sirius.

“Oh,” he muttered. “Uh, and what exactly did I say?”

Regulus’s gaze didn’t waver. “You thought I was Sirius. You… you told him something.”

James swallowed hard, heart thudding in his chest. What did he tell Sirius? No, what did he tell Regulus?

“And by something you mean…?”

 

If you want to continue reading, here is the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58061965/chapters/147820018

[thisisnotthenerd]

Neverafter Episode 14: Daughters of the Crown thoughts and musings. Spoilers Ahead.

Well, I got my wish for a gerelody reunion, almost verbatim.

I’m glad that it wasn’t cut-and-dry. That both of them had the opportunity to say the things they needed to say and had the time and space to process a reunion. I think a truer aspect of Gerard’s curse is coming forth--that the ratio of frog to man isn’t really dependent on Elody and how much she loved him, but more on his own sense of self and what defines his nature, after having lived so long as a frog.

Elody got into the meat of her issue with the world, being that the simplest parts of her life are the only things being preserved in story. That the person she is and the struggles she has experienced beyond that aren’t worth remembering. I think her motivation there is definitely closer to the party than it is to the princesses, but who knows how that will change.

As for the princesses, I’m concerned about the next action they will take. The suicidal nature of their mission to destroy and restructure the Neverafter is unsettling and speaks to a lack of regard for stories and people other than themselves as well as a deeply sad reason for their mission. They all want a better future for themselves by whatever means necessary; at the very least, those that have been in on it the longest don’t have a regard for other stories and/or people if they stand in their way. Emily hit it on the head: we didn’t know if they were right or just young, hot, and good with magic and weapons. Now we know their interests diverge, and a fight with them will not go well for the party.

The prehensile hair on Rapunzel is terrifying, and only knowing that her persona is performative on a nat 20 perception check tells me that there’s a lot more going on under that hair of hers. Also, they know that Cinderella is more of a frontlines person, but have no idea the extent of la Bête’s power, and Snow White literally has an army. Elody and Mira are newer--not Twice-Upon-A-Time. I think they’re unlikely to do battle against Destiny’s Children unless they’re heavily coerced. They’re hostages, whether they’ve realized it or not.

However, Destiny’s Children has been collecting power and information in a way that somewhat destabilizes them; each party member has something they could do to dramatically change their course of action.

From a terrestrial perspective, while Gerard and Elody aren’t in a perfect place, I have a feeling that a proper conversation with her could deeply influence her perspective on the princesses, especially if the party is advocating to get her out. Rosamund’s first loyalty isn’t to the princesses; if she refuses to commit to the plan, and Elody or even Mira choose not to as well, the princesses are going to lose their advantage in numbers and probably seek to take them back by force, which detracts from their greater goal.

On a multiversal scale, four of Destiny’s Children are working with a power set was specifically granted to them by a higher power, greater than the princesses or fairies. Ylfa has the blessing of Death on her--my theory being that if the Wolf was not saved, she was being unknowingly set up to take on the role. He wanted her to live even when she was killing herself before him. There’s a little inconsistency in that she didn’t gain a greater awareness upon consuming the Wolf the way the Baron of Bricks did, but that could come down to a few things: he wasn’t boiled down the way he was in the soup, she was still confined to her original story and thus could not become aware immediately, or even that he simply wanted to preserve her remaining innocence with regard to the Neverafter, when she had already lost so much.

Pib, while technically only functioning with the memories of a Twice-Upon-A-Time, is fundamentally a trickster archetype. Theory time: he may not have the power that the BBW or the various Geese do, but being an archetype grants these characters a certain amount of power and perspective that the ‘protagonist’ characters don’t have. Pib has been the one to make discoveries on a wide variety of fronts--he got the true books out of the Lines Between, which gave the party a major advantage in terms of figuring out the Neverafter and gave Pinocchio the opportunity to seize his own destiny. He can make big swings without compromising his role and thus isn’t as constrained as the other party members. We know that the Stepmother, who gains from consumption of other stories, is a powerful threat; however, though she was a warlock patron, I don’t think she’s quite on same axis as the bigger players like the BBW, the Geese, or the Baba Yaga. She doesn’t have a universal awareness. Pib could theoretically take that on.

Pinocchio, on the other hand, is the boy of destiny. He’s wielding his story like a weapon. There is a great deal of power to that--I think he’s one of the party members they’d try to control immediately aside from Timothy. He can call on parts of his story that are actively dangerous i.e. il Terribile Pescecane--maybe not consciously, but it’s a risk they’d have to take with him around. For all that Pinocchio suffered in his tales, there’s a lot that could come out of that book.

Speaking of books, I think Timothy is going to be in a tight spot after this. Knowing that all they have to do is get the ink to him, I think the princesses may be gunning for him as a tool. There’s no way he would put it down, but I’d be willing to bet that the prehensile hair would be in the room while he’s sleeping, just waiting for an opportunity. Also, if they know he’s on his last wish, the idea may be to trigger that into killing him and then just take the book for themselves. The princesses are certainly ruthless and I wouldn’t put it past them, Cinderella, Snow White, and Rapunzel especially, to do that.

[innocentimouto]

Do you support yeagerists and Floch Forster's stance by the end of the series?

Okay so I haven't actually finished the series. Funny story. I found aot on Pinterest because they wouldn't stop showing me freaky pins of titans and Levi Ackerman's face and I thought why. This animation looks so weird, the outline is so thick and what do you mean that's a spoiler everyone knows his last name and why does everyone think he is good looking he looks so depressed---ohhhh

Anyway, we all know how long the anime took, so I read the manga. Then gave up and over time kept coming across panels on Pinterest. So I kind of know the ending but not really. I'm waiting for November.

I'm missing the main big controversial thing here, but I will say I like Floch and Eren a lot. And am really hoping whatever controversial thing is supposed to happen doesn't ruin Eren for me.

I think it also depends on how aot is consumed. I view the anime from the understanding that it poses the question of what really makes a good person good and a bad person bad? Is there such a thing, or are people just complex beings who have to make a mix of both when faced with war and death? What right do people who live normal lives have to judge people who are in war and faced with extinction and loss of homes and safety and families? And sure, there are degrees to horrible things, but at the end of the day, views like these seem dependent on culture, religion, upbringing.

If I were to strictly answer from my own view based on the three mentioned above, I would say no, I could never because it violates the views that I have. But within the anime, I understand their motivations and the dire circumstances they were in and having the whole world against you doesn't leave you many options.

But even trying to ignore my culture/religion/upbringing (if that's really possible), I don't think I could live with myself if I agreed to let the whole world be wiped out. And just like Hange and the others opposing Eren, I don't have a solution.

They were already developing weapons to kill titans. At some point the Rumbling wouldn't be an unstoppable force, especially with the whole world banding together. They tried leaving the world alone and living peacefully. That's what the first king did, and somehow Will Tybur still hated himself despite knowing they were capable of good. Most of the world hated them too because of Marley utilizing titans as weapons and Zeke certainly didn't help by turning others into titans.

So to me, it can come down to two things: admire Floch and Eren for taking on this horrible burden to save their people, or be horrified that someone could be capable of such a thing.

For me, I admire them, because Eren knew it was horrible and Floch was stunned at hearing Eren's plan too, and at the end of the day, they're barely adults. Even if they were adults, they're people. And my understanding from aot, is that even "monsters" are people. They have feelings, loved ones, degrees of kindness and mercy, awareness that what they're doing is hurting others, guilt, moments of doubt, dreams, etc.

I think the idea of calling someone a monster is meant to distance oneself from the idea that you could ever become what they became. It's uncomfortable to look at people do horrible things and then find humanizing things about them, but I think it's important to accept.

Anyway, that's the gist of it I guess. I find it admirable to love your people and loved ones so much you're willing to become a "monster" for them, to face the rest of the world for them. Doesn't mean I support it or didn't feel horrible over watching Ramzi and many others die. I think these feelings can coexist.

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

Bewitching Fate/New Self-Insert?

So as y'all know I've been hyperfixated mainly on FF14 and FFSOP as of late. Y'all also know that my royal s/i is my ff14 s/i because I want all my loves together~! (Canon be damned, my worlds now!)

BEWARE: Spoilers for FFSOP and FF14 (mainly Shadowbringers)

So some of you also know that at the end of SOP Jack and his friends become the bringers of darkness Chaos and the Fiends of Chaos in order to create new Warriors of Light for the land they inhabit. Well, in FF14, Guess what your character becomes?

Ding Ding Ding If you guessed a Warrior of Light, you get a cookie and kisses from your f/o (the kisses were gonna happen regardless, but yeah)

Well, the organization that Thancred and all my friends/family are in -- the scions -- work with the Warrior of Light to bring light to Eorzea! And any beings of darkness are considered an enemy...

Well, Jack still has his 'day job' as my s/i's royal guard! So when she ventures off and ends up staying in Eorzea longer than planned, you know he and our friends aren't too far behind. The only problem on top of the internal cruel twist of fate of me being a WoL is that people in Eorzea can see others' aetherial balance...

So let's just say the first meeting between factions was very... tense to put it lightly. If it wasn't for me so excited to see Jack, Jed, Ash, Neon, and Sophia, then vouching for them to the point I said "I'm a princess and the only one who can slay primals! If you wanna fight these guys, I hope you found someone else who won't become a mindless slave to the primals 'cause I'll quit. Not my land so it really shouldn't be my problem BUT IT IS!"

Needless to say, everyone lowered their weapons but kept their eyes peeled for any sort of slip-up from the other side. Especially Thancred when it came to Jack... If anyone asked, he said it was simply because he couldn't risk such darkness corrupting their strongest ally further... But who knows why he'd spy in on softer moments..?

--

Now fast forward to ShadowBringers where I and the scions find ourselves in a situation to save a world overrun with Light. This place is so off-balance that the light has turned many of its inhabitants into angelic-looking monsters known as sin eaters who only live to consume aether!

So now it's my job to slay the mightiest sin eaters known as Light Wardens in order to bring darkness back to the realm and restore balance.

The only problem is I'm the only one who can take in their light without transforming immediately myself. But even then we don't know how much light I can take...

Fast forward EVEN MORE to the death of the final Light Warden and me taking in their light. That was the straw that broke my frail form's back and instilled the beginning of a transformation.

My daughter Ryne (A girl originally known as another Minfilia since she was bestowed powers to prevent a total flood of light) was powerful enough to halt the corruption but not cleanse it and no way is currently known!

SO with that said what if Jack and our friends were also with the scions. Therefore when they see the transformation and how some of my allies will be so quick to turn against me should I show any signs, they decide to join me in the enduring battles since who better to bring back the darkness then those who embody it?

Also cue a moment where I make Jack promise to kill me if and when I lose myself, much to our mutual dismay

But with that said: a whole sin-eater AU has been in my mind so I even have a design at behest of my bestie @floweringforgetfulness for biblically accurate Becca (I still lose myself to giggles with that) I have a design (THANK YOU BESTIE!!!!!!)

The only thing is that as a Light Warden/Sin Eater they usually go by names like "Innocence" "Tesleen the Forgiven" "Eros" "Philia" so I kinda wanna keep that name so I was thinking something along the line of Paitence since the others are like greek forms of love/virtues

So any ideas would be appreciated!!

taglist: @jellyfish-ships @canongf !@hadesgoddess @nyandereneko @disneymarina @goldenworldsabound @singingdeepinme @violetsandmilk

[sapphic-scylla]

I’ve done a lot of Soulsbornekiro posts but I don’t think I’ve ever written a Game ranking. So here goes. Reminder that this is opinion based on the thousands of hours I’ve sunk into these games. Enjoy!

All Souls Games Ranked from Best to Worst

Dark Souls 3- This is a no brainer for me. EVERYTHING I love about the Souls games were on full display in DS3. The scale of the fights, the lore, the weapons, the environments, the aesthetic. DS3 will always win for me in every regard.

Sekiro- A spin-off, sure, but such a creative presence in FromSoft’s anthology. The combat was unique while still having the classic Souls flair. It also forced me to learn its combat system and when you learn it, it’s such a satisfying victory. My only gripes were that it didn’t have DLC and that it wasn’t a longer game.

Dark Souls 1- Where it all started for me. Looking back on it, it’s probably the easiest on this list for me, but it’s still a very solid entry. I love the nostalgia it brings me as well as it setting the pace for a lot of lore and moments we see in future games. I wish it had gotten a little harder in the remastered version, but I can’t complain past that.

Elden Ring- A lot of my moots are probably surprised to see this down this low. Mommy Malenia is a shining star and definitely tops a list of my favorite souls bosses, but looking at the rest of the game, it fells short in some respects. A lot of the bosses are either way too easy or brutally difficult and not always for the best reasons. The lore and boss scale is great, but a lot of solid play styles get drowned out by the rising difficulty and it becomes a cheesefest fairly easily. Also, I’m annoyed by a lot more bosses in Elden Ring than most of the games on this list and it’s not because they are difficult.

Bloodborne- This is where I will lose A LOT of people. People rank this at the VERY top of their lists for a lot of reasons and are probably gonna be completely lost as to why this is down this far. Don’t get me wrong. The lore is great, the environment is good, Lady Maria is perfect, the weapons are fantastic, and people know I love cosmic and eldritch horror stuff, so you would think I’d love this game. But for me, what really shafts this game is the balance, the combat, and the walk back. One of the first weapons you get practically makes every other weapon in this game meaningless if you let it, my favorite weapons come at the END of the game (#rakuyobitchfolyfe), the combat and dodge system bones me about as much as it helps, and the fact that blood vials are a consumable? Not my favorite design choice. I don’t like having to refarm my healing options after having to trek through Cainhurst or the Fishing Hamlet and if I’m slamming my head against the Orphan of Kos, it dampens the experience to have to go back and refarm blood vials because I ran out. There were a lot of things that could have been executed better and it probably wouldn’t have been as bad if these issues weren’t so blatant.

Dark Souls 2- It’s the design choices. I don’t hate DS2 as much as a lot of people, but I’ll admit the game did not come off good to me when I first played it. The hollowing system actively frustrates me to this day, the quantity over quality bosses leaves a lot of nebulous memories, the open-ish world hurts me a lot more than it helps, and the weapons were really meh compared to the rest of the list. It’s definitely not as bad as people say, but there were some questionable choices here.

Demon Souls- The walkback hurts in this game. The system is great, but again consumable healing is brutal. It also is a lot of punishment unless you know the gimmicks that each boss has and once you know them, it kinda waters down the experience in an unsatisfying way. At least in DS2, you have Estus and can always have a healing option, but Demon Souls’ LOOOONG walk back to boss rooms and exhausting areas really wore me out of love for this game quickly.

[tearsoftime0086]

Saw your post in the League tag. If you ever post some of those fics I'd love to see them!! Even WIPs/snippets, really (especially the Nasus & Renekton one; I will die and kill for brother content)

Anon first off thank you so much for the kind words a;dlkghsk;a

I saw this ask come in out of nowhere and was like!!! a fellow league lore enthusiast!!! It makes me so happy that you'd be interested in my little WIPs, it made my DAY! Gosh I'm still trembling typing this.

Hmm some of those fics are really small so maybe what I'll do here is post them all below the cut (for links to posts for the bigger ones, text itself for the smaller ones), along with some "writer's commentary" to explain what they're about. Feel free to read/ignore whatever you choose!

Also if there's an idea that intrigues you (or if you have a writing suggestion outright) definitely let me know, it'd be my honor to work on it :) Or if you ever just want a fellow league person to chat lore/ideas with! No pressure tho - I know that would potentially require coming off of anon!

Thank you thank you again~

Nasus and Renekton fluff is on AO3 as Shuriman Nights (I'm gonna respond to your other ask right after haha)

Sett/Aphelios heartsteel drabble is posted on Tumblr here! Just a small scene of Aphelios and Sett as they work on their upcoming concept album.

Jayce/Viktor Arcane Mr. Freeze AU is posted on Tumblr here! It takes place right after the Arcane season 1 ending and Viktor decides to cryofreeze Jayce. I have a LOT more notes on this one if you're interested - this was supposed to be a sprawling multi-chapter fic I committed to but I never came back to it.

Zed/Karma darkstar/odyssey AU is posted on Tumblr here! This one's a sprawling one too, including Odyssey Zed and Karma, Dark Star Karma, Dark Cosmic Jhin, and Cosmic Queen Ashe (at some point - all I have are quick scenes). Depicts the fall of Zed as he becomes consumed by the Ora - High Templar Karma decides to do whatever it takes to stop him... even if that means using the power of a Dark Star.

Sona and Ezreal psyops drabble is posted on Tumblr here! I love the Psyops skinline so much, so a small scene between two weapons who have made their own way in the world.

Pulsefire Ezreal is posted here! The prequel to number 5 - Ezreal was the first to escape Viktor's Psyops and has a hard time with the existential dread that entails... until a peppy, Pulsefire clone appears on his doorstep. The scene is just their first encounter.

I couldn't find my Diana and Aphelios interlude... but essentially this was Aphelios going on a search for Diana and being ambushed by Solari, causing his connection with Alune to be severed. When he wakes up, he finds Diana. He has to decide whether to bring Diana in to the Lunari by force or work with her to reconnect with Alune. It's a shame, I loved planning this one out.

Kayn and Yone dawnbringer/nightbringer drabble: As Yone fights to find his place in the struggle between gods and mortals, he encounters Kayn, who's facing the same dilemma a very different way. Here Kayn has just Umbral Trespassed into his mind, much to Yone's ire:

~

Kayn is unamused. "Huh. You lived."

His expression doesn't change when he's forced against the wall. Yone's eyes simmer black with anger as he presses the demon blade against the demigod's neck.

"How dare you trespass-"

"And for a moment I thought we could have a useful partnership. You're nothing but a man with a lingering brother complex."

"ENOUGH!" The blade slips against Kayn's throat, and golden ichor beads from the wound.

Gold blood, dripping from Yasuo's arm...

While he drowns in red.

Yone staggers back, hollow eyes looking far into the distance. Kayn scans his frame, scoffing as he sees Yone's fingers tremble. The demon sword clangs onto the ground and vanishes in a flash of dark smoke.

"I believe our meeting is over," Kayn says, wiping a rough palm across his throat. As the wound begins to close, the scythe in his hand glows an eerie white. "I'll at least wish you well in your endeavor, hopeless as it may be."

Kayn's eyes glaze over as his entire body turns ethereal, casting unholy shadows against the crumbling walls. "Farewell, mortal fool," he scoffs, and then he is gone, slipping under the shadows of the setting sun.

~

9. And last but not least but the Shaco backstory! Very short - I didn't write the sad part when Shaco becomes corrupted lol

~ Once upon a time, there was a clown....

Now, even people back then hated clowns. They were eerie folks, who dressed up in garish robes and baggy, dirty pants. And some of them weren't even human. So when Shaco was created, he became the immediate source of gossip amongst the nobles. What was the king thinking, giving something so crude and sinister to his ailing child? As Shaco wandered the palace halls, a permanently smiling face painted on his wooden frame, all he received in return were scowls and furtive glances. There were numerous times when he was stolen straight from the prince's hands. A bad luck charm, they said. The prince's final escort to the underworld, they said. But Shaco did not care. He had his friend. And if his friend would laugh for him, that was enough.

~

[michaelbogild]

50 quotes on gratitude

“The most powerful weapon against your daily battles is finding the courage to be grateful anyway.” – Unknown

“When we focus on our gratitude, the tide of disappointment goes out, and the tide of love rushes in.” – Kristin Armstrong

“Gratitude will shift you to a higher frequency, and you will attract much better things.” – Rhonda Byrne

“I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness – it’s right in front of me if I’m paying attention and practicing gratitude.” – Brene Brown

“When gratitude becomes an essential foundation in our lives, miracles start to appear everywhere.” – Emmanuel Dagher

“My socks may not match, but my feet are always warm.” – Maureen Mccullough

“Some people grumble that roses have thorns; I am grateful that thorns have roses.” – Alphonse Karr

“Gratitude is the direct way out of comparison.” – Robyn Conley Downs

“Learn to be thankful for what you already have while you pursue all you want.” – Jim Rohn

“If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, ‘thank you,’ that would suffice.” – Meister Eckhart

“The simple things are also the most extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them.” – Paulo Coelho

“Whatever you appreciate and give thanks for will increase in your life.” – Sanaya Roman

“What separates privilege from entitlement is gratitude.” – Brene Brown

“It’s not happiness that brings us gratitude. It’s gratitude that brings us happiness.” – Anonymous

“Gratitude can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.” – Melody Beattie

“Happiness cannot be travelled to, owned, earned, worn, or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude.” – Denis Waitley

“The miracle of gratitude is that it shifts your perception to such an extent that it changes the world you see.” – Dr. Robert Holden

“Be grateful for what you have and stop complaining – it bores everybody else, does you no good, and doesn’t solve any problems.” – Zig Ziglar

“When you are grateful, fear disappears and abundance appears.” – Tony Robbins

“Gratitude is an antidote to negative emotions, a neutralizer of envy, hostility, worry, and irritation. It is savoring, it is not taking things for granted, it is present-oriented.” – Sonja Lyubomirsky

“Take a step back today. Look at all those beautiful things you have.” – Unknown

“Don’t be afraid of what hasn’t happened yet, learn to love what is.” – Claire Wineland

“There is no joy without gratitude.” – Brene Brown

“Expect nothing. Appreciate everything.” – Unknown

“The struggle ends when gratitude begins.” – Nicole Donald Walsh

“Abundance is about being rich, with or without money.” – Suze Orman

“Gratitude is the healthiest of all human emotions.” – Unknown

“Remember that what you have now was once among the things you hoped for.” – Epicurus

“How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye hard.” – Winnie The Pooh

“The deepest craving of human nature is the need to be appreciated.” – William James

“There are only two ways to live your life. One as though everything is a miracle. The other is as though nothing is.” – Albert Einstein

“We must find time to stop and thank people who make a difference in our lives.” – John F. Kennedy

“Gratitude is one of the strongest and most transformative states of being it shifts your perspective from lack to abundance and allows you to focus on the good in your life, which in turn pulls more goodness into your reality.” – Jen Sincero

“The more you praise and celebrate your life, the more there is in life to celebrate.” – Oprah Winfrey

“Gratitude is a quality similar to electricity: It must be produced and discharged and used up in order to exist at all.” – William Faulkner

“Go where your effort is appreciated. Don’t let your actions go unnoticed by individuals who are never satisfied.” – Billy Chapata

“You could’ve had anyone in the world, but you chose me. Thank you.” – Anthony T. Minces

“Trade your expectation for appreciation and the world changes instantly.” – Tony Robbins

“What a precious privilege it is to be alive – to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” – Marcus Aurelius

“If all you did was look for things to appreciate you would live a joyous, spectacular life.” – Abraham Hicks

“Gratitude is the single most important ingredient to living a successful and fulfilled life.” – Jack Canfield

“Gratitude is a powerful catalyst for happiness, it’s the spark that lights a fire of joy in your soul.” – Amy Collette

“The sun will never return the same way. FInd one small thing to love today.” – Angie Weiland–Crosby

“Thankfulness is the beginning of gratitude. Gratitude is the completion of thankfulness. Thankfulness may consist merely of words. Gratitude is shown in acts.” – Henri Frederic Amiel

“Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.” – Melody Beattie

“Don’t forget a person’s greatest emotional need is to feel appreciated.” – H. Jackson Brown

“When you see something beautiful and nobody noticed, do not be sad. For the sun every morning is a beautiful spectacle and yet most of the audience still sleeps.” – John Lennon

“If a fellow isn’t thankful for what he’s got, he isn’t likely to be thankful for what he’s going to get.” – Frank A. Clark

“Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.” – William Arthur Ward

“Gratitude is the wine for the soul. Go on. Get drunk.” – Rumi

[starcrossedlovrs]

Marauders meets My Chemical Romance: The second book of the series “May Death Never Stop You”: “Danger Days” by me, starcrossedlovrs (AO3).

Rating: Mature. Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

After the devastating loss of his closest friends and his fiancée, James Potter finds himself in a perilous situation, forced into an uneasy alliance with the enigmatic Regulus Black. As they embark on a desperate mission against Voldemort, James must navigate a world of darkness and deception, grappling with his own grief and forbidden desires. In this sequel to I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, loyalties are tested, and love becomes both a weapon and a refuge. Will their fragile bond survive the shadows that threaten to consume them, or will their pasts destroy any hope of a future together?

An excerpt of the first chapter “The Sad Man”:

Someone knocked on the door. He recognised his mother’s specific rhythm.

 

“It’s open” he said looking up from doing nothing.

 

“James, dear. I brought you some food. I made samosas.” He looked into his mother’s warm eyes.

 

“Thank you” was all he could respond.

 

“I’ll put it in the refrigerator” she said and went to the kitchen.

 

“Have you been outside today?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“Why don’t we go for a walk. The sun’s shining.”

 

James didn’t feel like it, but it was his mum and she tried. So he got up and pulled on a warm jacket.

 

The air was cold. It burned in his lungs, which felt good. Indeed the sun shone down on them. James had always liked the sun but now it was too much, too warm.

 

“James, why don’t you write your trainer? They would be happy to have you back on the team.”

 

Football. In the past his whole life had circled around football or the part that didn’t circle around Lily. Lily, it was a cut that hadn’t healed. He didn’t know if it would ever.

 

“They’ve already replaced me.” He replied.

 

“But what if you could be a trainer? Training the juniors? You’re so good at teaching?”

 

“Don’t know if I’m the right person for it.”

 

“But I think a routine would do you well.”

 

James shrugged.

 

“You know you can always talk to me, Kanna”

 

They walked past an abandoned playground. James thought of the times he was younger, blithely.

 

“James?” His mother brought him out of straying thoughts.

 

He looked at her.

 

“You didn’t deserve this. But you have to live. You’re alive James. And there are still people that love you, that care for you. We love you. I love you, James.” His mother came to a halt and pulled him into a hug. He breathed in the familiar scent of his mum and began to cry.

 

“Shhh” his mother caressed his hair.

 

“I miss them. I miss them so much it hurts”

 

“Shhh,” his mother caressed his hair. “I know, sweetheart. I know. They loved you, and they wouldn’t want you to lose yourself in this pain.”

 

James clung to his mother, the sobs wracking his body, releasing some of the grief he had bottled up. After a few moments, he pulled back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

“Thanks, Mum,” he said, his voice still thick with emotion.

 

“Anytime, James. Anytime.” She gave him a gentle smile. “Let’s get you home.”

 

As they walked back, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows on the ground. James felt a strange sense of clarity washing over him, a tiny spark of determination kindling in his heart.

 

Back at his flat, he sat down with the samosas his mother had brought, eating slowly, savoring the familiar taste. It reminded him of simpler times, of family dinners filled with laughter and stories.

If you want to continue reading, here is the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58061965/chapters/147820018

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken trust, pt.2

Part one

Summary: Too quickly does the Darkling find his rogue Sun Summoner, but his arrogance will cost him. 

Warnings: slight fluff, angst

==========================

Faith – Y/N’s floated away from her a very long time ago, like a leaf being pulled away on the tide, and into the sea to become lost and alone, likely drowned. But she had faith in Aleksander. She always trusted him, not doubting he’d protect her. That’s why this is much more painful than it had to be.

“Running doesn't matter, I'll hunt you down if I have to.” Kirigan spoke through gritted teeth, as if he knew she could hear him, feel the palpable anger and betrayal he struggled to contain.

And still she ran. She ran without looking back, cutting through the forest with her breath caught in her throat. She ran, flinching with branches leaving cuts across her face, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, he’d find her and if he found her, Y/N didn’t know if they’d both walk away unharmed.

Finding a cave, she ventured inside. She sat curled up against a wall, shivering in the darkness. She clutched the kefta she wore in Little palace, clinging to his already faded scent. Just hours ago, his arms were wrapped around her, his lips claimed hers. She was his, undoubtedly in love with the very man who turned out to be the enemy.

A sob escapes her, whimpering as her hand covers her mouth to assure her silence. Risking being found because she needs to cry is stupid. Aleksander would expect her to cry.

“Where have you been?” The Grisha asks, breathless as it seems.

His presence alone commands awe, respect and his charisma can make any human stop and forget what they’re doing so long as it pleases him. He is magnetic, electric, someone you can get lost in before knowing what’s happening.

“Answer me.” He insists, lower his head to her level. His eyes narrow at her quivering lips, just then realizing she’s shaking.

“Leave us!” He orders the Grisha who came running once the light reached them outside the tent.

He taps her shoulder, the air around them turning static with contact, “What is happening?” Her shaky voice sounds and his eyes soften.

“You truly don’t know?” Raising an eyebrow, the Grisha steadies Y/N before letting her go. “My name is general Kirigan and you”, he points at her, his forehead wrinkling momentarily, “are the Sun summoner.”

A breathless chuckle escapes her, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m a map-maker.”

“No”, Kirigan raises an eyebrow. He steps closer, his hands gripping her arms gently, “You are a Grisha.”

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flood with tears. One by one, they make tracks down her cheeks, stunning Kirigan.

“You need not worry”, wiping the tears off her left cheek with his thumb, Kirigan smiles softly, “I will protect you.”

Huffing, Y/N shakes her head. “I never should have trusted him.”

Suddenly, she felt her airways constrict. Gasping for air, she clutches her chest, unable to breathe or think clearly. Darkness etched into her vision, blurring it until there was nothing left. She felt her mind drift, the last she heard was a whisper she once adored.

“I’ll carry her back.” Aleksander states, his eyes never moving from her. He didn’t expect to find her, especially not as quickly as he did, but the ring she wore lead them straight to her location. Once again, she trusted the wrong person and once again, it brought them closer together.

Upon his return, he had laid her on his bed, hoping to speak to her somewhat peacefully this time around. If she could just feel the way his heart aches for her, maybe then she’d believe him he’d never do anything to bring her harm.

Groggy, Y/N groans. Her hand moves to her forehead, rubbing her temples.

“You’re safe”, Aleksander tells her, but the sound of his voice made her open her eyes wide, sitting up so quickly her vision blurred.

“St-stay away!” She pushed herself back, hitting the headboard.

“I won’t hurt you. I saved your life." Kirigan leans in, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"How? By taking my freedom, mind and identity?" She snaps at him, her nostrils flared with frustration and anger bubbling up to the surface.

"The chains are broken now.” Kirigan sighs, “You know the truth.” Wetting his lips, his eyebrows knit together, “Are you really free?"

Shaking her head, she narrows her eyes at him, "You are still my captive, no matter how beloved you once were."

Giggling, Y/N stumbles back and into the table. A few figurines fall to the ground, but it doesn’t seem to phase Aleksander who smirks as he rests his hands at each side of the table, essentially trapping her.

Raising an eyebrow, she looks up at him, batting her eyelashes. “Are you about to ravish me, oh sweet Darkling?”

Chuckling, he cranes his neck just enough for the tip of his nose to brush hers. Hearing her inhale sharply and hold her breath, Aleksander couldn’t help but peck her lips. It felt innocent enough, something that wouldn’t scare her but would satisfy his need to feel her closer to him.

“Don’t go looking for trouble, sunshine”, his lips twitch, amused how her hands have clutched his hips, pulling him closer to her.

“Maybe I like trouble”, she whispers, breathing heavily so much so he could count each and every breath passing the lips he wished her could kiss for an eternity, uninterrupted.

Biting her lower lip, her hand rests on his left cheek, caressing the scruffy beard with her thumb. “Come on, Darkling”, she teases, “What are you afraid of?”

“You”, he responds without a second thought. His response came so quickly, catching Y/N off guard. “I’m afraid of loving you”, he exhales through his nose, his clenching under the palm of her hand before he speaks again, “Afraid of losing you.”

“Please”, crosses his lips and Y/N’s heart skips a beat. Aleksander is a man of many virtues, but begging wasn’t one of them. He’s the man who demands and makes things happen. Such men don’t strike you as someone who plead often. And this was Aleksander pleading, asking her to do something irrational, to trust him, the only thing she couldn’t do.

“What could you possibly say to make this okay?” She swallows thickly, averting her gaze as if looking at him for too long could destroy her very essence.

"They called me the Darkling as an insult. You were the only one who used it as a term of endearment." Aleksander reaches for her hand, but she pulls away once again. “Let me put your mind at peace.”

Pressing her lips, she exhales through her nose, “You made me into a weapon. I'll never find peace.”

“I didn’t make you into anything”, he remarks, “You were born as my equal, to be my other half.”

Nodding to herself, she swipes her thumb under her left eye, “I sure feel like your equal now”, glancing at him she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her bottom lip, “You can still do the right thing. I believe there is a good person inside of you. The man I fell in love with must be somewhere underneath the darkness you're flaunting. Be him.”

His eyes narrow, clouded by his own sorrow, “It's too late to go back. You can't even look at me.” Standing, with his back turned on her, Aleksander allows tears to fill his eyes, “Do you even love me?”

“Of course I still love you, but trusting you is a different question.” With a heavy sigh parting her lips, she stands too. “You can’t force me to stay with you and expect unconditional love. That’s not how this works.”

Blinking fast, Aleksander refused to look at her. All she’d see is his weakness – his feelings for her have made him soft, too easily swayed by emotions and he mustn’t reveal it.

“You can’t catch sunshine, my dearest Darkling”, she wraps her arms around his waist. Resting her right cheek on his back, between his shoulder blades, she pulled him into her embrace, “You need to let me go and find my own way.”

“You’d be dead by nightfall.” He snaps, trying to push her off but she holds onto him even tighter, silently weeping.

How can she stay when every cell inside her body is screaming for her to leave? How can she leave when every single molecule she’s made up from is aching for just one more touch?

“If you love me, you’ll have to trust me”, her voice is shaky, unsteady as she feels. “Staying will make me resent you. I need some distance, time.”

“I can’t”, he shakes his head, wiping his tears away before she can see any.

“Then I need you to remember”, her hold on him lessens.

With a frown etched on his forehead, he turns to her with a lump at the back of his throat, “Remember what?” His words rip through her like glass shards do to skin, but he can barely tell if she’s shaking because he’s started to tremble himself.

A smile breaks on her lips, just as bright as the light she once emitted to contrast his. “Remember I love you.”

And once again, without a warning, Aleksander found himself on his knees.

He didn’t love her, he desired her most of all. He desired her gaze on him as desperately as the air he needs to breath. He desired her skin against his as the food he’d need to live. He desired her lips to speak his name in ecstasy more than the water as he thirsted for her light more than anything else in this world.

And in his desire for her he had lost himself entirely. He had lost his cold exterior, becoming putty in her hands. He had lost his ruthlessness he planned to aim her way, directing it to any and all who’d harm her. He had lost his resolve to stay away, so he’d give into her with all he is.

So with that desire and the loss of him, he hated her for all of it. He hated her with burning passion. He hated her so much it consumed him.

Or so he told himself so. For in the end, he did nothing to push her away.

He couldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Logic demanded him to stop her, but his entire logic went out the window the day he found her in his tent, stealing his grapes. He’s no longer a part of the living anymore either. She’s become his cornerstone and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, it didn’t change. It’s become factual.

He didn’t hate her, not even a little, not at all. Aleksander Morozova, Aleksander Kirigan, The Darkling, the unforgiving general, the Black Heretic, the Shadow King – all of him loved all of her, even as she had put a knife through his heart. The very heart that beat for her was now bleeding because of her. A betrayal, he realized, the very same as she had felt when she learned of his lies.

“We will see each other again”, she croaks, her tears crashing around him.

Gasping for air, he desperately fights the pain so he can keep his eyes open longer. This might not kill him, but it will slow him down. This time around, she’ll run and as she takes off the ring, he realizes it won’t be so easy to find her again.

She kisses his lips, so softly he’s unsure if it’s a well crafted dream.

“Moya lyubov'”, he manages to say as she stands and heads to the door. He can’t speak, but he’s screaming on the inside, hoping she’d look back at him. If she does, there was hope.

Reaching for the knob, Y/N sighs, glancing over her shoulder at her Darkling with unimaginable pain tearing her apart. But sometimes you have to break in order to create something more beautiful. She knew he’d hate her for it, but she walked out the door anyway.

PART 3

[sailorhyunjinz]

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 𝐈

© 2021 SailorHyunjinz ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Pairing; Bartender!Changbin x Fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warning ; ANGST!! SMUT!! skz side characters, semi-slow burn, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, depiction of mental disorders, consumption of alcohol, under the influence, self hatred, complicated family relationships, depersonalisation/derealisation, depression, alternative universe, implications of su-cide, semi su-cide attempt, su-cidal!reader, mentions of bl-od and injury, mentions of k-dnapping and murder, alcoholism, mentions of selfh-rm, mentions of knifes, gaslighting, smoking, mentions of weapons, mentions of pregnancies, a bunch of crying, fainting, toxic masculinity. 

𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 ; piv, protected sex (use of condom), missionary, dry humping, nicknames, sex in semi-public place, fingering, corruption kink if you squint, orgasm (m/f), cum,,,, other then that it’s kinda vanilla. 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 14.3 k 

O N E ｜ T W O 

From one survivor to another; cheers you guys. 

                         ⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ Playlist ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[FEEL SOMETHING DIFFERENT - Bea Miller, Aminè]

[Multi-Love - Unknown Mortal Orchestra]

[Beach Baby - Bon Iver]

[High Enough - K.Flay]

[Dope Lovers - DPR IAN]

[Make Out in My Car ; Sufjan Stevens Version - Sufjan Stevens]

[I Feel it Coming ; The weekend, Daft Punk]

[Space Song ; Beach House] (ah the loml and the album is called depression cherry so it makes me happy) 

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 ; 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

“Let me out!! LET ME OUT!”

You cry out, banging on the heavy wooden door until your knuckles bruise, red marks leaving their traces on your soft skin. The only lightsource is the tiny cell window, sun shining brightly and illuminating thousands of dust specks, floating around you like your lost hopes. The grey cement walls got closer and closer, seconds ticking in your head like a clock. 

This is it.

This is how you die. 

Crushed to death like a bug, your ambitions never getting their chance to prove themselves. All that you ever wanted to achieve was an impossibility as you were slowly but surely pressed together in the ever shrinking room. 

Salty tears roll down your cheek, a feeling of hopelessness washing over you as you turn your back against the door, sliding down to your feet, banging the back of your head lightly against the entrance.

You feel the rough walls hitting both sides of your forearms, a last ear deafening scream leaving your parted lips.

Until you woke up. 

With a series of jerking motions you sit up, panting like you just ran a marathon, the pounding of your heart audible to you. Darkness swallowed you as the night progressed, you considering yourself lucky to find yourself in your comfortable bed, still in your room. 

Only after minutes do you notice your wet cheeks, the tears not being limited to your dream world. You blink, your coated eyelashes weighing heavy on your eyelids as you wipe tears with the back of your hand. The shock from your dream didn’t reside, you now being too afraid to fall back on your plushy pillow, fearful of what horrible dreams awaited you on the other side. 

You grab your phone from the nightstand, immediately being hit with a bright light causing you to squint and turn away momentarily. 

[Search: being crushed dream meaning]

Multiple articles from all sorts of sketchy websites popped up, you clicking on the first one. 

“Stress or emotionally overwhelmed” 

You laugh lazily, the dream making sense as you feel yourself slipping back into a peaceful slumber, phone still in hand as the muscles in your face relax, jaw opening, your dream world once again inviting you for a dance. 

The sun woke you up with it’s radiant rays shining in your face, the closed blinds barely able to withstand them. Your phone was lying on the floor face down, you must have dropped it while sleeping you thought before rubbing your eyes from any dirt and staring up at the ceiling. 

Another day

Another day that I’m here.

You wish you could pull the covers over your head, get lost in your own mind and never deal with the outside world ever again. But you had to. 

You picked up your phone from the dusty floor that hadn’t been cleaned for weeks, you simply didn’t have the motivation to do it. The bright phone screen awaked you, you blinked your eyes a couple of times to see clearer. 

[3 Missed Calls - Mom]

You couldn’t be bothered to call her back. She was only gonna nag at you for not calling back earlier, wondering what you’ve been up to now that you’ve been fired from your job as a receptionist at the local hotel. What were you gonna say? Drinking too much booze and crying yourself to sleep every night? You couldn’t, that would only hurt her. 

Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

You got up, legs wobbling as you stumbled to the bathroom, head pounding from the amount of alcohol you consumed the night prior. Not with friends but alone, in your living room, in the one room apartment you no longer could afford. 

Ice cold water splashed onto your sweaty face, that being the only hygiene you could muster today. You turned the tap off, grabbing a towel and wiping your face and looking deep into your own eyes. 

That’s not me.

That’s not me looking back. 

You poked your tongue out, hoping the figure in the mirror wouldn’t move and you could confirm your thoughts but alas the figure followed you. You felt crazy, it was as if you’ve died a long time ago but still saw everything that happened. You could stick your hand through a wall and it would disappear you thought, nothing was real. Not even you. 

You entered your mess of a living room, seeing the wreck from yesterday night. Countless green glass bottles scattered on the table in front of the tv that was your only escape from reality. Blankets and pillows were thrown across the floor along with a box of tissues, your emotions bubbling up to the surface too often resulting in you crying and shaking on the floor, a feeling of fear washing over you late at night. 

You felt alone.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, why were you so ungrateful? You had everything. A roof over your head, a family that loves you, friends, food on the table. Yet, even this couldn’t satisfy you. You blamed yourself for everything. 

For your work firing you.

For your parents divorcing.

For your own pathetic life.

You shook your head as if you were shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, instead grabbing a couple of the empty bottles that were reeking with the scent of liquor and placing them on the kitchen counter. ‘Cleaning up’ in your eyes.

With a thump your back landed against the couch that swallowed you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace you got from no other person or object. This was your safe space you thought but not even your couch could save you from your intrusive reasonings. With a light click on the remote the tv screen lit up, your eyes still not used to the brightness since you’re always cooped up in your apartment where the blinds were always closed, another barrier between you and reality. 

Nature documentaries, your favorite.

The calming male voice of the narrator being the only one you talked to during your lonely days. The animals could make you forget. They lived so freely, moving wherever they wanted without a care in the world, either swimming, hopping or flying. You wish you were born as another animal than human. 

“The 52-hertz whale travels an astonishing 70 km a day but it’s voyage doesn’t bring social interactions. This whale is the loneliest whale in the world. It’s the only whale that is capable of emitting a whale call at such frequency, no other individuals communicating with the poor creature.”

You sat up in curiosity. It was a scream for help you thought. The whale needed help, it needed someone or something.

Just like you. 

You sighed, watching the lonely whale on your tv screen, seeing it’s gracious movements despite its size. It did look lonely in that deep dark sea, wondering how it would be to fall into the abyss of water, swallowing you whole and erasing the life that once sparked your soul. 

This was where you spent your entire days. The clock on the wall is ticking but the digits it displayed are oblivious to you. What did it matter if it was 5 pm or 1 am? You were still not gonna budge from your comforting seat on the couch. Drinking your feelings away no matter what time in the day. 

This was you. 

This was who you had become.

The sun started to set on the horizon, a delicate shade of light purple descending over it, covering the end of the world like the way a canopy covers the softness of a bed. You sigh, diverting your focus back on the tv screen after momentarily observing the life outside your window. Yet again, nature documentaries accompanied by the soft male voice, narrating every movement of the colibri that fluttered it’s wings at the speed of light on your screen in vivid colors. 

You got that look in your eyes. That look of amazement which you now only had when looking at the beautiful colors of a exotic bird. You moved closer to the tv screen in the now dark living room, the sun setting at a fast pace. It reminded you of the many times your mom shouted at you to not sit so close to the screen, scaring you by saying that you’d get rectangular eyes. 

Your childhood.

The only time you felt ease. 

The only time your family was as one. 

“y/n, what does your heart look like?” the therapist asked, scribbling mindlessly on a notepad.

“it’s a muscle that pumps blo-” you started but were quickly cut off. 

“no, I mean what does your heart look like, how does it feel?”

You sighed, looking down at the grey marbled floor, your legs shaking in nervousness. You hesitated before speaking, scrambling in your mind to say something sensible before the words came pouring out of you.

“i-it looks like a house. A dark, empty house,,, but it’s comforting.”

Once again you heard the sound of a pencil writing incoherent sentences. Curious as to know what secrets were on that piece of A5-paper.  

“is there anyone in the house with you?” the therapist inquired. 

You shook your head before speaking. 

“I don’t want to let anyone in, this is my safe space” you say, almost setting up an emotional barrier, not wanting to answer further questions. 

The person sitting across from you hummed as you stared out the window behind them, the green ivy bushes already grown tall enough to cover half of the grimy window. 

“is the house empty?” they asked to which you shook your head once again, avoiding the glassy-eyed stare of the therapist. 

“no,,, there are dusty furniture covered in white cloths and-,,, and family photos in the drawers.” 

“is it your family?” 

You shook your head in disagreement.

“How did you end up here?” 

You thought for a second, puffing out your cheeks, a habit of yours. You searched for a reason but not finding any. 

“I just,,, was here one day.”

“The sun never shines here.” you added after a solid 30 seconds of silence. 

You were stuck in that house.

The house that was once filled with happy memories of another family, you simply a ghost that was now trying to fit the broken pieces together, wanting desperately to see them smiling again. 

Tears started forming in your eyes, a shiny gloss over your orbs. 

But you never cried.

Not in front of others. 

You thought often about that visit. Why your heart was an desolate house and why the words spilled out of you like a poisonous liquid.

You closed your eyes, the bright colors fluttering behind your eyelids as the comforting sounds of the woods blasted from the tv. 

You wish you could be somewhere else. 

Anywhere but here. 

A single tear rolled down your cheek as a smile creeped up on your face, your butt against the floor as your knees were underneath your chin, your entire figure curled up into a small ball. 

You sighed as your eyes fluttered open again. You were still here, in your apartment that smelled like nothing but alcohol and disappointment. 

Firmly planting both your hands on the wooden floor you heaved yourself up with the intention of getting more tissues, the blue colored tissue box on the floor being as empty as others expectations of you. 

But as you stood up the entire room started spinning, small specks of rainbow flashing by your eyes. You thought you stood up to quickly grabbing onto the wall for a second before collapsing against it, your entire body shaking. You cried louder, thinking you were about to pass out. Your hair stuck to your tear stained cheek as your puffy eyes closed once again. 

What was happening?

The rain hit your unconscious body, your knees scraped from the concrete you lied on. You were soaked from head to toe, lying with your cheek against the ground in a puddle of rain. You woke up from your head pounding, your bloody knees only gaining your attention after you’ve looked around in a confused daze.

It was empty. An alleyway in the dark night. You found yourself panicked, anxiety bubbling inside of you. That’s when you saw it. A single street light above a red phone booth. You tried to stand up but fell over again as your legs could barely hold you up, now scraping your elbow against the gritty ground. 

Crying out, you started shouting for help. 

“HELP!! SOMEBODY HELP!” 

You screamed at the top of your lungs, voice cracking as your tears started to look identical to the rain that was pouring over your cold, helpless body. Nobody came, your voice only echoing against the wall that the phone booth stood near to. 

You got on all fours, crawling towards the light as pure pain shot through your body, small pebbles jabbing into the open wounds on your knees. You needed shield from the rain. Desperate huffs and groans escaping your parted lips as you dragged yourself through small puddles, the phonebooth seemingly getting further and further away from you. Looking through the soaked curtains that was your hair you were determined, this was life or death you thought as you continued to shout out for help, it appeared to be useless since the only other sound besides your own voice was the rain hitting the ground. 

Shivering hands grabbed onto the corner of the crimson red phonebooth, the streetlight illuminating your teary eyes. You held onto that frigid and wet piece of metal as if you were holding onto a treasure. 

As if you won a race.

As if you pleased your parents.

You looked up, dragging the inner side of your leg against the concrete, your pyjama pants wet to the bone. Desperately you got yourself together, your arms shaking as the rough pads of your hands met the ground, pushing yourself up into a standing position. You hissed at the pain in your knees as you grabbed onto the metal handle that opened the phonebooth, stepping inside.

The inside was surprisingly warm, as if someone had been there moments prior. A ripped piece of paper was taped on the glass pane to the right of the payphone, something that seemed like a phone number but could impossibly be since it wasn’t a full number. 

[1800-xxx]

You looked at the payphone and then back at the washed out paper, the edges of the note curling and stained with yellow. Only when you looked back at the phone again did you notice the keypad. To your surprise there was an “x” button. Your head felt heavy, deciding to lean it against the other side of the stuffy phone booth, your hot breath creating steam on the glass.

You wanted to wake up from this nightmare. 

Your entire body ached, let alone the blood that was dripping down your leg. The rusty payphone connected to the actual phone, a black handle connected to the underside of the machinery by a coiled metal rope. You picked up the phone, putting it against your ear and groaned when you remembered that you needed coins in order for the payphone to work

[0.5 gold/minute] 

You rubbed your eyes. Gold? You sighed loudly, your knees barely being able to hold your weary body any longer. Hesitant fingers pressed the number that was jot down on the lined note, pressing each key accordingly. You pressed the last x before you pressed the “call” button, not expecting anything to happen. 

But after a few seconds a female automated voice spoke to you. 

“Thank you for calling. This place only appears to the suffering. If you are receiving this call, congratulations! Your prayers have been answered. Drink the liquid in the paper cup above this payphone. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

The voice lagged, a static sound accompanying the automated voice. Your breath got shaky as you looked around, holding the phone close to your ear with both hands. This could only be some sort of kidnapping scheme or this was a sick dream. 

“It’s a dream, y/n. Calm down, nothing's gonna hurt you.”

You muttered to yourself, pinching your forearm tightly and wincing from pain. This wasn’t a dream after all. 

Your gaze landed on the brown paper cup that was balancing delicately on top of the payphone, your cracking knuckles reaching for it as you let the phone fall out of your grasp, being caught mere inches from the sticky floor of the photobooth by the coil. Bringing the cup closer to your face you saw a dark viscous liquid that smelled sweet enough to sting your nose. Your face contorted into disgust, debating on whether not to drink the contents of the paper cup. 

“Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

The voice continued ringing in your ears. You had nothing to lose. If you died then you at least got what you wanted. Holding your breath, you brought the cup closer to your quivering lips, parting them slightly as you held your nose tightly, not wanting to feel whatever horrible taste could be found in that dark pit of goo. 

It burned the moment it hit the delicate taste buds on your tongue, your voice muffled as the fluid descended down your throat, your larynx bobbing up and down with each gulp. Despite covering your nose you could taste the pungent sweetness, it tasted like pure acid. Not that you knew what that tasted like but what you assumed it would. 

You coughed, accidentally spilling some of the goo on the floor, dribbling out of your mouth. The heavy rain pitter-pattered against the metal roof above your head, your eyelids threatening to shut. The cup fell out of your hand as you slammed your forehead against the payphone, not hard enough to bleed but hard enough to bruise. Your jawbone hurt from how much you’d been crying, eyes puffy as the salty tears mixed with the rain droplets on your face.

“i-i’m sorry mom, i’m so fucking sorry.”

You rolled your forehead left to right against the rusty material of the payphone, your soaked hair covering your empty eyes. Your knees bent under you causing you to fall on your butt with your knees clinking against each other, the sticky contents on the floor sticking to the soft fabric of your pants. 

“I’M SO SORRY!”

You never thought a scream this loud could protrude its way out of your throat, the vibrations bouncing off the glass that to your surprise didn’t break. Everything started to become shades darker, almost as if a black and white filter settled over your vision. 

No, this is how you’re gonna die.

Alone.

In the rain. 

“Hyung, what are you gonna do with her?”

Muffled club music struck your ear along with a high pitched ringing, your eyelids felt as heavy as they’d been in the phonebooth. With your head pounding you slowly open your eyes, first not seeing anything but darkness before eight unknown men form a circle around you, hovering above you. 

You shoot up from your lying position, fear overtaking your body. Where were you but more importantly why the fuck were you alone in a dark room with 8 young men? Not thinking straight, you decided to scream once again, thinking they would back off and let you be.

“Get away from me!!”

The males covered their ears, groaning in pain and a blonde boy throwing himself on the floor, rolling around. 

“HEY!! HEY! WE’RE NOT GONNA HURT YOU!”

A strong voice overpowered yours, every word almost sounding like a grunt. You around, seeing that you were sitting on a soft leather couch before looking up at the male that was standing right infront of you. He was muscular, his biceps sitting snugly in the tight black t-shirt that covered him, a grey apron tied around his waist and his dark hair shielding his intense gaze and furrowed eyebrows. He had a jaw so sharp you could cut silence with it but silence was the last thing this room had. The boys were shouting at each other, trying to hush the others while screaming themselves. 

“SHUT UP!!”

The room got quiet as the muscular guy roared, the seven other individuals coming to a halt. You looked at them all with a puzzled expression, all of them handsome, a fact you couldn’t deny. 

“Where the fuck am I, who are you guys and p-please don’t kill me”

Your voice cracked at the end of your sentence as your eyes twinkled, tears teasing the corners of your eyes, fingers shaking in fear. The male closest to you sat down, the weight of the couch shifting. He rubbed his hand together before he started speaking in a calmer voice.

“I’m Changbin, bartender of the Lost Souls nightclub. That’s Chan, security guard.”

With his chin, he pointed at a guy in ripped black jeans with a white t-shirt, a sweatband across his forehead, pushing his slightly curly hair back. He didn’t look like a security guard, the only thing that might have pointed to that was the walkie-talkie hanging from his belt. You nodded before Changbin continued.

“And those are some friends, frequent visitors if you will.”

A light haired boy with shiny rhinestones under his eyes stepped forward after he’d been hugging the tallest guy in the room the entire time. 

“u-uhm, the name’s Felix! This is Hyunjin, Seungmin, Jeongin, Jisung and Minho, and yeah those two, Chan and Changbin.”

He pointed at each guy respectively and the room filled with small “hi’s” and smiles. They didn’t look threatening, all of them being very timid and looking down at the ground. Your gaze diverted back to Changbin that was staring at you the entire time.

“Can somebody tell me where I am?”

Changbin cleared his throat, stomping his boot a couple of times. 

“This is gonna sound,,, interesting but you have to believe me-”

You interrupted the muscular boy, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, noticing that it had dried. 

“Why should I believe you? We’ve just met?”

Changbin sighed. 

“Just,,, hear me out”. You nodded before he continued.

“You answered a phone call right?”

Nodding once again your gaze drifted towards the other boys that were looking at Changbin with googly eyes.

“Well,,, this place only appears to those who are,,, struggling with themselves. Obviously you don’t have to tell us why you’re here but,,, this is a place to let go. The only rule here is no fighting”

“Or dancing on the tables” the tall blonde boy added with a snark causing a squirrel-like boy to giggle, playfully hitting the blonde before looking at Chan who glared back at him, the boy being flustered and turning serious again. Jisung, his name was. 

“W-what did that phonebooth do,,, does everyone go through that?” you asked with a curious tone.

“Usually it’s a pleasant experience going in that phonebooth, the sun shining and people hanging around that alleyway before taking the phonecall and drinking the elixir,,, there must have been a glitch in the system.”

He sounded unsure, scratching the back of his head as he looked at all of the boys. 

“System? What system? I’m dreaming, right?” you said in panic, wanting to get out of this oddly suffocating room. 

“W-we are real and you’re not dreaming,,, it’s just that, we can’t meet in real life you know? This is a place to,,, let oneself go and I know it’s scary since you only get here randomly, it must have been hard passing out like that,,”

A boy with fluffy light brown hair and a pretty eye smile said, Seungmin! You remembered his name because you thought it fitted him, sounding both soft and sharp at the same time. 

“y-yeah,,, it was scary b-but thank you for caring about me” you said with a half smile

“oh! and also, we treated all your wounds, luckily you were passed out so you couldn’t feel the pain but let me tell you,,, it looked awful, I don’t understand how you did that Chan” Jisung remarked with wide eyes, looking at you concerned before turning to Chan.

“Did what?” you inquired to which Jisung responded.

“Removing the pebbles in your wounds, h-how did you even get those in there?” he asked to which you tried to remember, seeing hazed memories of you crawling on the asphalt in the storming rain.

“I was crawling towards the phone booth'' you said quietly as the boys gazed at you with concern. The atmosphere got dusked and in an attempt to lift the mood you cleared your throat, lightly running your hands over the bandaids that were plastered on your scraped knees, wincing from the contact. 

Changbin made eye contact with Chan, jerking his head towards the door to signal for him and the other boys to leave the room. Chan nodded and patted Jeongin on the shoulder, trying to scoot all the boys out of the room like a shepherd leading a bunch of silent sheep.

“Let’s have some fun! Drinks on me boys~” Chan exclaimed to get the boys off their worried thoughts about you, the curly haired male closed the door quietly and both you and Changbin stayed silent until the footsteps were faint on the other side of the black wooden door. 

“Is this better?” Changbin said with a slight smile at the end. “They can be quite the bunch sometimes, either they’re very much off the deep end or they’re just a rowdy mess” he laughs, looking out in the distance before he looks at you with your knees under your chin, holding your legs close to your body.

“So,,, we’re all here for similar reasons?” you mumbled, holding your gaze stable on his dark eyes.

“yeah,,, pretty much. We’ve all dealt with something mentally draining and of course you don’t have to tell but I just want you to know that nothing will hurt you here.” Changbin replied. 

“I do want to tell,,, but it’s just that I don’t want to be alone about it. I’ve never been around people that have shared the same experiences.”

Changbin slid closer to you on the couch, putting one leg over the other. 

“It’s like that for,,, almost every single individual in the club, we all want to tell our stories and this is the place to do it. No one is gonna judge you for it. I remember thinking that when I first got here, ‘everyone is gonna judge me for not drinking’.”

Changbin’s last sentence caught your attention.

“but aren’t you the bartender? shouldn’t you know all the,,, liquors and such?”

Changbin sighed and you regretted you sentence, thinking that maybe you asked a too personal question. 

“I do know them but not in the way one should.” 

Something clicked in your head when the boy uttered those words. You nodded silently, letting your gaze fall to your wounded knees as your shaky voice spoke;

“So do I” 

Changbin’s gaze was fixated on the floor as he shared what was on his mind. 

“But no one judged me,,, eh,,, I never asked for your name!” the boy said to which you giggled, reassuring Changbin that you were in a stable state.

“It’s y/n, nice to meet you!” you said, stretching your hand forward to shake his. Changbin smiled towards your gesture.

“pretty name, angel” he said, shaking your hand and noticing how small it was in his grasp, the cold metal of his rings contrasting to your now warm hands. He didn’t let go immediately, instead holding your hand and feeling it’s warm temperature, running his thumb across your knuckles softly. You snarked at his comment.

“angel? didn’t know we had established pet names for each other in barely 10 minutes of meeting.” 

“and I didn’t know angels landed in this place” he said back. “i’ve had to deal with 7 annoying boys that never listen to me,,, well, 8 but one of them,,, disappeared.”

You nodded, not wanting to overstep any boundaries by asking about that 8th guy incase it was an emotional topic. 

“how is it? working with alcohol despite having quite a rocky relationship to it?”

The buff boy hummed, drumming his fingers on the seat next to him. 

“It’s better than one might think. I get to be around it without engaging in the activity myself, simply serving clients and the boys  already know it, we look out for each other. Like a family you know!” Changbin said with a happy tone, not wanting the conversation to get you in a bad mood after all you’ve been through that night.

“family,,, could use one of those” you joked and Changbin actually laughed which you’ve never felt with anyone before, the only response you usually got was your therapist writing down your self deprecating jokes with their orange lead pencil.

“you’re always welcome to us” he said, letting go of your hand that now felt empty. You felt safe. There was no way of describing it but you felt this caring aura around this man, drawing you closer to him. 

“how long does this last? i’m guessing you go back to ‘the real world’ again at some point” you spoke, making quotation marks with your hands.

“it depends, it’s different every time but you will pass out just like you did when you got here but you won’t go back to the phone booth, you’ll wake up where you were last in real life. Time goes on in the real world but here,,, clocks don’t really work. We’ve tried bringing clocks or phones with us but the digits don’t change.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This had to be a dream. 

“w-whats with the gold on the phone? Does money exist in this,,, universe?” you asked with confusion to which Changbin shook his head.

“no, drinks are free and so are the phone calls, i have no idea why the phone booth says that or why Chan said that drinks are on him, he must have been stressed trying to get the boys out of here” Changbin said to which you giggled.

“i-is there any time where you never return?” you asked, earning a bittersweet smile from the male.

“yeah,,, if those issues you have get resolved but,, that rarely happens. Destructive behaviours feed of each other. Get rid of one and it gets replaced with another.”

You recognised that. It was always something, you could never live in peace without feeling the need to self sabotage. 

“Poor innie knows that too well” he added with an acerbic tone. 

“innie?” you tilted your head in question, gazing around the dark room that was rather empty, only a couple of dark colored shelves on the wall and the couch you were sitting on along with the ceiling lamp that was stingy with it’s light.

“Jeongin, the youngest among us. Poor boy has been through it all, if it’s not drugs it’s self harm and Minho is a real dick sometimes, bringing pocket knives in “defense”. He’s delusional, thinking everyone is out to get him and Jeongin knows this. We’ve found our precious little boy in the bathroom too many times, holding those stupid knifes Minho keeps having on him and crying till his cheeks puff up.”

You took a mental note to keep your distance from Minho, feeling bad for Changbin that had to be amidst this mess while dealing with his own emotions. You could relate, being the emotional pillar between your parents that hated each other to the brink of physical violence. There’s always someone that has to suffer because of other people's problems. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Changbin.” you managed to stutter out, not knowing what else to add to the conversation.

“Ah,,, don’t be, y/n! Just take good care of yourself, that’s what matters the most to me” Changbin said. You smiled, moving closer and hovered your hand above his shoulder.

“Can I?” you asked quietly to which Changbin nodded and moments later felt your warm hand patting his back. He felt listened to. Understood. And even though he was yet to tell you his entire life story he knew that you were different from the others. You actually cared about him. 

The room started spinning again and you clutched onto Changbin’s black t-shirt, trying to stabilize yourself. Those rainbow colored speckles you had seen earlier appeared again, vision blurring right in front of your eyes. 

“y/n? how are you?” Changbin’s voice was worried but he knew what was happening. 

“it’s spinning again, I t-think I’m gonna pass,,, out” you muttered, 

“It’s alright y/n, I’m here yeah?” His rough voice distinguished itself from his comforting words as you held onto the dark haired boy, a faint smell of tobacco interlacing with the air you breathed in through your nose. Your two arms were now wrapped around the male with your face against his broad shoulder, eyes shutting as tightly as they could, face contorting into fear until everything disappeared. The vague beats of the music. The pain that ached from your knees. The feeling of finally finding home in someone's arms. 

Everything turned into nothing in Changbin’s embrace. You were slowly turning into his everything because he had nothing in his life. 

And then you woke up. 

You gasped for air as you woke up in panic, hunching over on the floor in a coughing fit, clawing at your neck for oxygen. Panting on the floor you put your forehead against the wooden laminated floorboards, your frizzy hair blocking out the little light that was in the apartment and being hit with the malodorous smell of distilled alcohol. 

What was that?

You were convinced that it was some kind of wicked dream. An escape from reality even. But as Changbin said, you did wake up in the exact same place and position you passed out in. A long breath seized through your lungs as you shifted in your position on the floor. 

“Son of a bitch!” 

Tears prickled the corners of your eyes as the hard floor hit your wounded knees. You quickly sat down on your butt, lifting your knees up to your chin and only then did your heart drop.

It wasn’t a dream. Your eyes lingered on the bandaids that were placed with the utmost care across your both knees, a stain of dark brown blood seeping through the sticky elastic material and dried blood staining your knees in a haphazard attempt of somebody trying to wipe it off without hurting you. You managed to grab the edge of the sofa, levering yourself up with, testing out the strength left in your wobbly legs. Your phone lit up, sitting on the place you’re usually curled up in. Throwing yourself on the soft piece of furniture you observed the phone screen, lost eyes wandering mindlessly over the brightly lit display. 

What you noticed wasn’t the worried text from your mother.

It was the fact that the digits hadn’t changed from when you passed out. 

Your head snapped towards the tv screen and the phone fell from your hand when you stared at the screen, breath trembling.

The same documentary. The same colibri. 

This couldn’t be. Surely you hadn’t just stopped time,,, right? This was not something Changbin warned you about. How long until you meet Changbin again? An hour,,, or ever? 

There was nothing else you could do besides wait. Wait until the next time you pass out. And what better way to make time pass but to be confronted by your mother? You pulled up the text on your phone and read it hastily before scoffing.

[Are you eating well? Please call if you see this]

Since when did she care about you? You knew that she did care. Somewhere deep inside her motherly heart she did care but the way she displayed that so-called ‘affection’ didn’t make it obvious. You tried to justify every word, believing all the lies she fed you. You tried so hard to believe that you were healthy, that your mental health wasn’t deteriorating before the eyes of your very own mother that was refusing to see the truth. That her child was indeed in pain. You couldn’t blame her, it was her way of dealing with the issue but it didn’t make it easier for you. Your thumbs hovered above the keyboard, you couldn't think of anything better to write and quickly typed it down before you hit send.

[yes, i’m busy]

Busy contemplating your existence. Your father wasn’t exactly any better. Throwing out each one of your family members until there was only him left. He had no trouble filling that emptiness, simply creating a new family and forgetting you as if you were a chapter of the book called ‘previous life’. You didn’t mind, not after everything he did to you and your mother. There was no need for a person like that in your life but unfortunately it influenced you more than you thought, always seeking validation in either work or relationships because how could you validate yourself after your self esteem had been crushed by this tyrant?

You threw your phone on the table, a clink noise being heard as it hit a bottle, knocking it over but not breaking it. Your parental issues or mental health was for once not the biggest concern in your life, now instead wanting to search for the answers that could explain the nightclub. How did it exist? What caused it to exist and who was behind it? You needed to get back there somehow. 

The tv had turned off by itself, you found yourself waking up on the couch, using a pillow as a blanket, hugging the warm material closer to your body as you whined. With confused and lost eyes you scanned the room for a clock, hitting the table a couple of times and finally getting your hands on your phone, bringing it closer to your eyes. 

[3:02 am] the digits lit up. You rubbed your tired eyes with your left hand, throwing the pillow on the floor and using the phone display as a torch in the pitch dark room. There was no point in falling asleep again, you had already slept so many hours, sleeping anymore would only make you drowsy the entire next day. You yawned as you staggered towards the bathroom, flicking the lightswitch on the wall and squinting fiercely as you were blinded by the harsh bathroom ceiling light. You put the phone down and quickly caught your reflection in the mirror before you sat down on the toilet to pee, folding a couple of sheets toilet paper in your hand. You yawned again as you flushed, going to wash your hands but once again being amused by your reflection.

That’s not me. 

It’s the person I’ve become but never wanted to be. 

Your dark circles almost reached your cheekbones, the wounds on your knees still stinging even after hours of peaceful slumber. You poked your tongue out to which the reflection did the same, staring back at you with frizzy hair and puffy eyes from tears. You couldn’t trust it. Mirrors lie you thought and so does every single reflective surface in the entire world. You would never know what you truly looked like and that ignited panic in you, feeling your breath rapidly increasing as you held onto the white cold edge of the bathroom sink. 

This happened. Too often. It was the feeling of not knowing yourself or your surroundings. Like you had just appeared in this world, scared and alone. To not know who you are and having to live with yourself til the day you die frightened you. But you didn’t know if death was any better. Sure, the thought was comforting but being buried under layers of soil, having flowers and insects living their best life above you as you simply rotted away wasn’t the solution to all your worries although a moment of eternal peace did sound tempting. 

You felt a lump in your throat, trying to cough as if it was some sort of anxiety flem when in reality it was your brain setting up imaginary barricades. Your hair draped in front of your face and with furious eyes you peeked up, seeing your almost demon-like expression and smiling psychotically. 

I hate you. 

I fucking hate you, y/n l/n.

Your smile was wiped off the moment the room started spinning. Your reflection becomes diffuse in the mirror as if it wasn’t enough not recognising it. A loud gulp made its way down your esophagus as you continued staring at yourself in disgust. You blinked slowly, every time you closed your eyes you saw those rainbow colored specks all around, almost as if they were distracting you from what was happening, like a kaleidoscope for a child. You felt as if the ground started shaking, an earthquake in your personal world that was separated from the real one. Maybe you were going back to the nightclub, to Changbin’s reassuring arms or maybe you we’re really going crazy this time. The specks got bigger, turning into elaborate patterns in neon colors that clouded your vision. You kept eye contact with your reflection for what seemed like forever, despising the person that was staring back, your gaze broken as your eyes rolled back in your skull, your eyes white as if you’d been hexed before you collapsed on the frigid bathroom floor. 

“y/n? y/n, wake up!” 

The sun dazed your eyes as you woke up on the slightly toasty concrete. Changbin tilted his head as a cigarette was hanging out the corner of his mouth, bright sunlight behind him. He had on a jean jacket with patches from several underground punk and rock bands, his neck was embellished with multiple silver chains and his hair was slicked back, glistening in the heat. He knocked the wind out of you even more, as if passing out in the bathroom wasn’t enough torture. 

“oh y/n! you’re awake!” 

Chan says, coming closer to you, this time he’s wearing a tanktop that showed off his flawless abs, your mouth watering at the sight. You only then remembered that you looked like a mess, still in your pyjamas that consisted of an old sports event t-shirt and small basketball shorts. 

“a-am i in the club again?” you say, rubbing your eyes with both hands before feeling your head pounding a bit, sitting up slowly and feeling the harsh ground beneath you. 

“no! you’re at the phone booth, everyone is here now oh and, this is usual how it’s supposed to look.”

After your vision stops blurring you look around, seeing the same alleyway and the same crimson phone booth but being hit with a completely different atmosphere. People were standing in all types of fancy clothes, trendy bright colors, exaggerated makeup and 7 inch platforms. The sun was beaming, it felt like a hot summer day with friends, just like the old days back when you had friends. 

“why does y/n always wear pyjamas? don’t you have any cool clothes?” Hyunjin snarks, pushing his blonde hair behind his ears, displaying his dangly silver and black earrings. 

“knock it off asshat, the poor girl is probably scared off her mind” Seungmin sneaks up behind the blonde, punching him lightly in the stomach before he smiles sweetly at you. Duality was this man's second name. 

“t-thank you seungmin” you said, giving a smile back but being met with a surprised facial expression.

“you remembered my name!” he said, giggling adorably. You gave a small nod before you looked back at Changbin that was drawing a breath from the cigarette, puffing out a white cloud close to your face before waving it away. You noticed how tired Changbin looked, his cheekbones sunken in and his complexion bleak. He stretched out his hand to help you up which you grabbed, the insides between his pointer and ring finger being slightly stained orange from tobacco. You wobbled up on your feet, knees slightly unstable but feeling better from sitting down a while. 

“are you alright y/n? i could open that resting room if you want” he said before inhaling smoke once again, spreading in his mouth and intoxicating him. You shook your head.

“i want to see the club, why not while we’re there you know?” you said, smiling brightly and making his heart jump. Changbin hid the grin he so desperately wanted to display by dropping the cigarette bud on the concrete, stepping on it with his heavy boots that had chain details attached. 

“alright, whatever you want angel” Changbin sneered which caught the attention of the 7 other boys, all staring at the jean-jacketed boy. 

“angel? seems like someone has a crush” Hyunjin remarked making Jisung burst out in laughter. 

“says master heartbreaker” Chan said under his breath making Hyunjin furrow his eyebrows, diverting his gaze from Changbin to Chan instead. 

“come on you guys! can we not go to the club already?” Felix said, him also wearing a crop top along with a leather chest harness that accentuated his figure. Jisung nodded and made his way towards the phone booth that had droplets of steam on the inside, Felix and Hyunjin following shortly after the squirrel-like boy. You observed the alleyway. People leaning against the grey wall where the phone booth was, either smoking or chatting. Some were standing, others sitting down directly on the concrete, feeling the same heat you felt as you woke up. 

With unstable steps you walked towards the phone booth behind all the boys, Changbin staying by your side and waving his hands towards the 7 boys that had somehow crammed into the humid and stuffy metal building, Chan closing the glassdoor as a couple of the boys giggled. You and Changbin stood on the other side of the door, seeing how Chan grabbed the black phone you had once held with cold dirty hands and Seungmin giggling as he took a sip out of the contents in the paper cup, passing it around to the others that did the same.

They disappeared right in front of you. Your mouth stood agape. They didn’t pass out, they just disappeared into thin air, leaving the airless crimson structure empty yet again. 

“w-wait, why didn’t they pass out?” you asked, turning to Changbin as you ran a hand through your hair.

“it happens when you’re new. the body isn’t used to the entire,,, universe switch so you will probably pass out this time also but don’t worry, i’ll catch you” 

Changbin grinned, opening the door and being hit by the lack of oxygen. He held the door open for you to which you smiled, stepping inside and seeing that the paper cup had been refilled automatically. The door closed behind Changbin, you standing in close proximity to the boy as you lifted the phone slowly, still feeling the warmth from Chan’s hand. The dark haired boy grabbed the brown paper cup, not even looking at the goopy substance before drinking it, seeing his adam's apple bob up and down. You put the phone towards your ear, wondering why you didn’t hear the female automated voice.

“it doesn’t work?” you said with confusion to which Changbin smiled, pressing in the infamous number on the rusty keypad.

[1800-xxx]

“yeah, it doesn’t if you don’t type in the number” he chuckled, holding the paper cup in both hands and leaning against the humid glass.

Suddenly you hear the voice you were dreading the hear.

“Thank you for calling. This place only appears to the suffering. If you are receiving this call, congratulations! Your prayers have been answered. Drink the liquid in the paper cup above this payphone. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

It reminded you of that night. That dark rainy evening. The voice started to lag, just like it did last time. You hung up and turned around whereupon you saw Changbin handing you the paper cup. You gulped and put your lips on the edge of the cup, looking at him with unease but feeling comfortable with his presence. You tilted the cup, feeling the sweetness trickle down your throat, almost stinging your insides. Changbin smiled, he looked like the typical bad boy from every cliché teen movie but it made your heart flutter, slightly embarrassed at the state of yourself. He pushed away from the glass wall and swiped his thumb across the corner of your mouth, wiping off the sweet liquid and licking it off the tip of his thumb. You stood there, frozen at the sudden action, gazing softly at him. 

“you had something there” he chuckled as you started to feel lightheaded again, your eyelids getting heavy. 

“thanks” you said shortly, your gaze drifting down on the dirty floor beneath your feet, drifting in and out of consciousness. 

Changbin didn’t say anything, catching you mere seconds after you collapsed on the grimy surface. Admiring your heavy eyes and puffy cheeks for a second before he himself disappeared into the abyss. 

“One Moscow mule, please!” 

An unfamiliar voice shouted through the blasting club music accompanied by what sounded like the shaking off a cocktail shaker. You groaned, your eyes fluttering open and being hit by the beams of a thousand light machines in all sorts of colors.

“Oh y/n!!” Jisung shouted on the other side of the bar, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the corner of the bar, on the same side as Changbin that was working diligently, mixing some concoction into a metal shaker. You rubbed your eyes, yawning and wondering how you could sleep sitting up. You heard Changbin set the metal cup down, telling something to the woman beside him, must be his co-worker you thought. He kneeled down next to the chair you were sitting on, looking up at you with curious eyes. 

“how are you feeling?” he asked loudly, trying to overvoice the music.

“im good” you answered back just as loud, the two of you locking eyes. Changbin smiled at you with his tired face, glancing over the glasses that were located beneath the bar. 

“you want something to drink?” Changbin said to which you nodded. 

“give me anything” you said, messing with your hair and sighing. You felt tired, an urge to sleep despite the loud blaring music. Maybe it was more of an emotional fatigue. A lack of feeling. And that’s usually when you turn to the bottles. Changbin nodded, standing up and returning to his co-worker, starting to grab all kinds of pretty coloured alcohol. 

“ay! y/n! come join us!” you heard Felix say, him standing with a glass in his hand, the other boys scattered around the club along with the other troubled individuals. You smiled widely, looking around and noticing the small exit gate connected to the bar. You patted Changbin on the back, him turning around with a grin before you exited through the gate, closing it after you and pushed through the crowd of people, making your way over to the boys. 

“y/n, welcome to where you will feel alive” Jisung yelled, spreading his arms and nearly knocking someone in the hand.

It was truly living you thought. Every single way to escape reality was located here whether it would be alcohol, drugs or sex. People dancing and jumping, grinding and rubbing up against each other. In multiple booths there were people making out, touching in unknown places. Many looked outright high, moving as if their body was possessed by some dance god, not knowing how to control their limbs. You could have sworn you saw Seungmin putting a yellow pill in his mouth, smiling mischievously at someone you didn’t know. 

So this was letting go. 

“y/n! here!” you heard Changbin’s voice call behind you, turning around and seeing him putting a glass of clear liquid onto the stained wooden bar with coasters scattered all around, a couple lime wedges floating around with the ice in the glass.

“vodka tonic, giving you the strong ones” he said, grinning, to which you smiled back, understanding the hint to his personal life through his eyes. The glass was cold against your warm hand since you were in this stuffy environment filled with countless people and without any windows, only a ventilation system that led to nothing. You put the edge of the glass against your lips, taking a sip and swallowing harshly, feeling bitterness that tasted sweet because that’s what alcohol does when it’s consumed on a particularly bitter day. Or life. 

The other boys were dancing, Chan mostly hanging around the edges of the nightclub and observing the nightlife. You made your way over to him, taking another sip in order to gain the courage to strike up a conversation. 

“Sup? you feeling any better?” he asked before you had the chance to even open your mouth. 

“better. why aren’t you enjoying yourself like the others?” 

“i mean,,, i’m technically doing my job even though i’m not getting paid for it. i just like to be in charge i guess,,,” he said, getting more and more silent as he spoke. You nodded.

“i do work with stuff in real life as well” he added, to which you raised your eyebrows.

“what do you work with,,, if you don’t mind me asking!” you said, taking another sip of what tasted like Lucifer’s saliva. 

“music producer! it’s tiresome but,,, i don’t really need sleep,,, or more like i can’t sleep. lucky there’s energy drinks and naps” he said with a giggle, his dimples displaying as he chuckled, leaning against the black walls of the nightclub. 

“must be tough,,, but wait,,, i’ve never heard your music,,, and also shouldn’t you be the DJ then?” you said confused, swirling the liquid in your hand. 

“but that’s the thing y/n, all these people, every single person you see in this room lives in another universe”

You gazed at him, Chan looking straight ahead towards the crowd.

“what do you mean by different universes?” you asked to which curly haired boy cocked his eyebrow.

“we will never coexist y/n, when i tell you that we’ve tried to bring our friendships to the real world i really mean it. we will never exist in your life outside of this hub and,,, it sucks.” Chan took a pause before speaking, pondering on what to say next.

“-thats what happened with a friend we had. i’m saying had because we don’t know where they are or what adventures await them. They just,,, disappeared” Chan said mellowly, you humming in response as you took a final sip of the devil’s juice, already feeling your face heating up.

“h-how does one get out of this place,,, forever i mean” you asked, leaning back against the same wall as Chan and looking right ahead as the song changed to a slower, almost psychedelic beat. 

“when said person gets help,,, or starts to feel better or when you hit the casket, three options basically” he says with an acerbic smile. “what? Do you like Changbin?” Chan says teasingly. “you’ve been catching glances at him this entire conversation.”

He was right, you had been glancing over at Changbin occasionally, you couldn’t help it. Was it an excuse for you to look at his cute face from a distance or because you cared about him? You laughed it off but Chan turned serious.

“you know that’s it’s not possible.” he says quietly.

“what? what is not possible?”

“a relationship”

You choked on your own saliva, being blinded by the annoyingly bright strobe lights.

“a relat- ya! do you really think I have time for any of that? besides,,, i’m not really interested in Changbin.”

“who said only you should be interested?” 

Your eyes widened when Chan said that. No way could Changbin have these weird feelings to you, the feeling shouldn’t be mutual. 

“h-has Changbin said something about you?” you asked timidly, gazing over at Changbin that temporarily made eye contact across the club.

“why don’t you ask him yourself? but i’m telling you y/n,, don't get attached, you will get hurt,,, j-just like i did once” 

Sure, you understood what Chan meant. Everyone was here for the time being. One day he could disappear if he decided that the life he was living now either isn’t worth it or he takes control and makes something out of it. There comes a time where you are too tired of living the way you do and so you do something about it, no matter if it’s good or bad. 

Changbin waved his hand at you, wanting you to join him behind the bar where now Felix was standing and annoying Changbin by tickling him or whispering in his ear as he moved his body with much fluidity. You smiled, waving towards Chan shortly before you once again made your way through the crowd, feeling lightheaded but in a positive way, as if you really were forgetting reality for a moment. 

“y/n!! come!!” Changbin yelled, bouncing slightly to the typical house beat that was now playing, barely holding the bottle of gin since Felix was pestering him playfully. Changbin’s co-worker opened the wooden gate for you, smiling sweetly at you and you doing the same back, your gaze drifting down until you notice the red marks around her throat. You were often scared by people. Not by their actions but by their way to cover them up and of course, you were guilty of this too. Looking at these people you would never guess the pain that was going on inside, the surface level happiness really is surface level. You could smile genuinely towards her, you didn’t have to understand everything she was going through but you knew how it was, smiling when bridges are burning in your mind. 

Sometimes pretending hurts more. 

“Changbin!” you squealed after you had passed by his co-worker, holding the empty glass that was now nothing more but half melted ice cubes and three wedges of bright green lime. Without thinking you put the glass down on his working station and pull him into a tight hug, squeezing your body against his and feeling the warmth radiate off of him. He froze awkwardly in your arms before loosening up, wrapping his arms around you and ultimately taking in your scent that was now mostly pungent with liquor and sleep, a soft scent that Changbin couldn’t get enough off. You felt safe which was rare in a nightclub especially knowing that most people were either high or carrying weapons. But there was something about him that made you feel like home. It felt familiar, like you’d visited his soul. As if the two of you were sharing the same empty house in your heart despite you never letting anyone in, too scared to be hurt again. Maybe you could let Changbin in, maybe he was different. 

The hug lasted longer then you thought, his eyes darting all over the stuffy room before he slowly let go, taking a long inhale of the almost addictive smell. The two of you locked eyes, a shy red tinged his cheeks that was only visible due to there being a spotlight just above him. 

“can i talk to you for a second?” you asked, rather boldy which was odd. He nodded and grabbed your wrist only to pull you in behind the same black door where you once ended up in, confused and dazed. He let go of you and closed the door behind him, you standing in the middle of the room that now had tiny light standing on the floor, nothing more new then the same old shelfs and black leather couch. 

“what did you wanna talk about?,,, figured you maybe wanted to tell me somewhere more quiet”

‘Quiet’ was an overstatement, the music was making the walls shake and even though it was muffled the jumping of hundreds of people could still be heard in the small dark room where you were alone, with him. 

“ehm,,, i don’t know really,,,” you stammered, not knowing what else to say.

“is something wrong y/n? Do you need to be alone for a while? i can le-”

“no, thank you,,, i just wanna be with you.” You interrupted him, his eyebrows furrowing when you uttered the last sentence. He stepped closer to you, the soles of his shoes making a pleasant sound against the floor. You lifted your gaze at him, Changbin standing right in front of you. Beauty that could make you drool. His hair was slightly messy, temples sweaty as he had worked and fetched all kinds of bottles for hours, the grey apron marking his title in the nightclub.

“but i’m here with you! Are you playing some sort of prank on me? did chan set this up?” he chuckled with a smirk, throwing a gaze at the door before diverting it back to your glossy eyes.

“n-no,,, Changbin, I want you”

His mind went blank and so did yours.

You don’t know why you said that but it was too late. The cat was out of the bag. It was too late.

“y/n? are you drunk?” he asked, looking at you seriously and putting the back of his hand against your forehead, suspecting you might be getting sick. You shook your head in response.

“no, it was only one drink, you know? i just,,, kinda,, want you”

You grabbed his hand that was still lingering on your forehead and drew it closer to your heart, holding firmly by his wrist. The clothed valleys of your breasts made contact with the rough palm of his hand, Changbin’s eyes still glued to yours. He scoffed loudly.

“and here i was,,, thinking it was some sort of unrequited love”

It felt like his hand turned into thorns, stinging your heart. So he wanted you too. 

Changbin’s hand that rested on your boob snaked upwards, grabbing your jaw as he smiled at you briefly, tilting his head and slowly closing his eyes, attaching his rough lips on yours. Your eyes widened before they closed slowly, eyelashes fluttering in a flirty haze. This was how it felt to kiss someone you loved. It was as if a thousand fireworks ignited inside your beating heart, flying and exploding in an array of colors. A pure lightshow. 

Your hands made their way to Changbin’s angular face, cupping his cheeks and feeling his sharp cheekbones against the palms of your hands. Your noses accidentally bumped into each other as your heads tilted from left to right, a sensual pace to the kiss to which the dark haired boy chuckled, adding some laughter to the otherwise grave situation that contained the sounds of two lips smooching each other. The music was only adding to the ambiance, Changbin’s hands wandering and exploring territory on your body that was foreign to him but very well-known to you. Your wet tongues danced around to a serenade, his kiss was strong, sure to leave an unforgettable impression on you. You would want him from now on and forever. 

You moaned into the kiss as his hands rested on your ass, groping the flesh that was covered by your pyjamas-shorts. This made Changbin cock his eyebrow, pieces of his slicked back hair falling into his face as making him look like a charming 80′s prince. His fingers danced around the elastic band of your pants, fingers hooking and playfully tugging on the string, a silent plea for you to take them off. You smiled against his lips, saliva exchanging in a heavy and steamy kiss, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. 

The two figures melted into one as Changbin pulled you closer to his body, feeling his cock poke through the coarse material of his jeans against your lower abdomen. Good to know that he was enjoying this as much as you were. Your hands descended downwards, traveling along his black tight t-shirt, the jean jacket from earlier being god knows where. The contour of his abs made you smirk, you knew what he was hiding beneath these clothes that you ravenously wanted to tear up. You palmed him through his pants, earning a hiss from the male that panted heavily into the kiss. 

You broke the kiss, taking a moment to breathe as your lips were separated by a lonely string of saliva. You grabbed Changbin’s wrist, pushing him down on the leather couch as you straddled his lap, feeling his hard-on against your aching wet cunt. You wanted him so bad and here he was, in front of you for only you to devour. Changbin grabbed onto your hips, pinning them down against his cock and leaning forward to reattach his lips on yours, teeth  accidentally clicking against each other moments before your sloppy hot tongues met, feeling his tongue against the soft surface of yours. The sound of lips meeting ringed through your ears, your hips grinding against Changbin’s crotch in a steady pace, feeling your neediness grow. Your hands ran along his abdomen, sneaking them up inside his shirt and tugging on the black material of his t-shirt, pulling it above his head. What was hiding underneath his clothes was more than a pleasant surprise. Your lips moved swiftly against his jawline, peppering kisses on his delicate neck as your hands teased the supple skin of his abdomen, feeling the outline of his muscles against your touch. 

Changbin placed his hands near your stomach, pulling your oversized sleeping shirt over your head in the same fashion you did moments earlier. You gasped as the fabric danced over your now hardened nipples, freeing your tits. Of course you didn’t wear a bra when you were in the comfort of your own home but you didn’t think anyone would actually undress you, especially not Changbin. He hummed at the sight, cupping your tits in his hands that were covered in metal rings, feeling the coldness against your heated skin. You shuddered, the sensation shooting down to your dripping core. He kneaded them in his hands as you rubbed against his cock, his boner having a visible outline through his pants, you couldn’t help but to fiddle with his belt buckle, undoing it and hearing the clicking sound of the buckle hitting itself. Changbin pulled away from your swollen lips, tapping you on the thigh to step off in order for him to pull his pants down. You moved to the seat next to him on the couch, the leather sticking back as you laid down, lifting your hips up to remove your pyjama pants along with your panties that quickly hid underneath the fussy pants due to it’s rather interesting print, small teddy bears printed on the fabric. You kicked off your shoes, more like slippers that you wore indoors. 

Changbin swiftly pulled down his jeans and black boxers in one motion, throwing them close to your pile of clothes at the base of the couch. Your eyes widened, mouth watering at the pure sight of his cock, a pretty bead of precum decorating his slit, contrasting with the crimson shiny tip. A big gulp descended down your esophagus, heat tinging your cheeks. He chuckled from seeing you stare at his member with shiny doe eyes that reflected in the small lamp on the floor.

“You seem,,, intrigued” he chuckled to which you giggled, not believing that you were really in this small room together with him. 

“Y-yeah,,, maybe I am” you snarked, moving your gaze to his eyes and smiling. Only on your way upwards his well-sculpted body did you see the boy holding a small blue plastic item. You furrowed your eyebrows when Changbin opened the packet, retrieving a slightly slippery condom from inside. 

“Do we even need that?” you laughed before continuing. “I mean if nothing gets transferred to the real world neither should pregnancies or STD’s” 

Changbin tsked, rolling the condom onto his veiny cock, turning slightly away from you to avoid your intense eyes. 

“Ask Chan, he would know” Changbin said, turning back to you and making his way over to the couch.

“N-no,,, no way.” You shook your head, your mouth agape as your eyes still danced over Changbin’s buff thighs. 

“Yup, knocked up a girl” he said, suppressing a laugh. “And that’s why y/n, you never think with your dick”.

“Being completely honest,,, I expected more from Chan, he seems really,,, responsible” you remarked, Changbin hovering over you and placing a soft kiss on your lips, his hands on either side of your figure.

“He is but I think love is his weak spot or more like,,, lack of love. He often confuses love with either sex, money or fame,,, might I even say drugs.” 

You simply nodded not knowing what more to add to the conversation, Changbin’s fingers tracing small circles around your nipples, sneaking them down between your legs where your cunt was aching after him. Anything, as long as it was him. His middle- and ring finger dipped into your heat, feeling the wetness between your folds causing you to hold on to Changbin’s sturdy shoulder. Without warning his fingers entered your dripping hole, fingers curling upwards and grazing your g-spot. You flinched, feeling his cold metal rings against your clit. The dark haired boy shushed, reassuring you that you were in safe hands and that he would make you feel good. Nothing else mattered besides you. 

His fingers grazed your velvety walls, thrusting up into your cunt with just enough vigor to make you clutch to his bicep, the firm muscles making you swoon. You whined, spreading your legs even wider, your left leg hanging over the leather couch, sticking to your thigh as your body was heating up from arousal. The wet sounds of Changbin’s fingers playing with your cunt along with your soft whimpers were louder than the music outside, you pressing your head back onto the couch, rubbing your hair on the material. Changbin licked his plump lips upon seeing your face contorting into all kinds of lewd facial expressions, his cock needing to feel your warmth wrapped around it. The pad of his thumb played with your clit, laying it flat against the nub and teasing it in small circles causing tears to prickle in the corners of your shut eyes. 

“a-are you alright y/n?” he whispered softly in your ear, kissing the shell of your ear. You nodded, your hands cupping your tits, pinching your hardened nipples, adding pleasure and heat to the burning in your core. Changbin pulled out his fingers, putting the slick covered digits in his mouth and watching you with hawk eyes as he lapped up your juices, humming in delight. 

“fuck you taste so good angel” he stated, making you blush, covering your face with your hands. Changbin chuckled, tapping the tip of his dick against your swollen clit and aligning himself with your entrance. You moaned from the sensations, wrapping your legs around him to pull him in, you growing impatient the more he teased. 

“p-please fuck me Changbin” you said uttered in a faint voice, barely audible due to the music. It was as if his eyes tinged with a dark color, full of lust. His eyes were hooded, looking down at you with half closed lids, sighing loudly with sexual frustration. He wanted to destroy you, make you his but he had to hold onto his composure. Holding you firmly by your hips he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside you, grunting at the warmness that comforted him. You hissed, biting the inside of your cheek, your nose scrunching up at the feeling of being stretched out by his girthy length. 

“can I go all the way? does it feel alright?” he asked. You answered with a small “yes”, more worried about the door being unlocked, anyone could burst through the door in seconds only to witness Changbin fucking you on the couch. That thought was quickly wiped from your mind as his cock stuffed into your cunt, your eyes rolling back into your skull as he slowly thrusts into you, using the hands on your hips as a way to guide him, nailing your cervix with each movement. The tips of his ears turned red, the silver chain around his neck reflecting on the dim light in the room as it rocked back and forward above you. You placed your hands around his wrists, looking boldly into his eyes with, a feeling brewing inside you that was hard to describe. It was titillation mixed with yearning. You knew you got him here. He was safe in your arms. You wanted to save him from everything bad in this world but how is that possible when you can’t even save yourself?

“c-changbin” you said in broken syllables, his thrusts only quickening. “changbin!” you repeated, shutting your eyes tightly, curling your toes in pleasure as a string of pretty moans melodically fell from your mouth along with his name. You couldn’t take it, his cock ramming into you in a both mindful and eager manner causing you to claw at his forearms, nails digging into the soft skin. Your tongues were once again caught in a kiss, the taste of your tongue being irresistible to the boy but not sure if it was your love that was drawing him in or the subtle taste of liquor from earlier. His lips felt parched against your, his tongue gliding on your bottom lip before kissing it, his saliva feeling hot in your mouth. The boy above you pulled away for a moment.

“you’re so pretty like this y/n,, fuck, i think i love you”

You gulped but your silence was soon cut off from Changbin slamming his hips against yours, his cock hitting your that specific spot that made you go crazy, the familiar feeling of your orgasm penting up inside you. You moaned with desperation, the lewd sounds bouncing off the dark colored walls. This was music for Changbin’s ears. His grunts accompanied by your whimpers and the squelching sound of your walls engulfing his dick so tightly, the sounds alone was heaven for him. With every move against your body you felt the well-acquainted smell of cigarettes that you could almost feel in your lungs, an addictive scent. 

“i love you too, Changbin” you mumbled, slurring on your words from nervousness, feeling shy even though you were naked in front of him. He smiled, peering down at you as his hair fell from it’s perfect gelled state. You smiled softly at him, his cheeks slowly turning a red that matched his lips. Your moans turned to borderline screams, his cock twitching inside of you as he slowly got closer to his sweet release. Clenching around him, Changbin grabbed bent your legs towards you, gently rolling his head backwards as the pace got quicker. 

“i’m g-gonna cum! don’t stop!” you yelped, your heart thumping at the speed of light, tiny sweat droplets forming on your forehead. Changbin reached so deep inside of you causing you to thrash around, fiercely trying to grip to the edges of the couch. The burning in your core got intense, it felt as if a thousand stars were falling at the same time, bursting with amativeness. The sudden feeling of warmth took over your body, a pleasant tingle surging. A breathy moan leaving you stunned, grabbing onto Changbin’s hands that were pushing your knees towards you. Just as your orgasm washed over you like a ton of bricks falling to the ground, your body jolted with the last couple of powerful thrusts, a loud gasp slipping from his lips. His girthy cock released it’s seed into the condom, his hot breath lingering near you. 

He let go of your quivering legs, them flopping down on either side of him. Your chest heaved up and down as you breathed through your parted lips. Changbin pulled off, carefully removing the condom and discarding it somewhere on the floor. He snuggled close to you on the narrow couch, pressing his sweaty body against yours, taking a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“So you love me too?” he chuckled. You turned to face him, looking deep into his dark brown eyes that looked pitch black in the dim light. After a loud exhale you answered him.

“No, I think I can’t live without you” you whispered, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. His stable breath tickled against your chin, your eyes slowly closing as Changbin was observing your features that he found insanely attractive. And it was even more attractive that you were his. But this couldn’t last.

“You know this is not possible y/n” he said with sadness in his voice as he gulped, his adams apple protruding. You knew it, the thing you dreamt of wasn’t possible since the two of you didn’t exist in each other's worlds. 

“I feel fucking stupid” you said with closed eyes, sighing after your words. Changbin shook his head. 

“Don’t give up that easily y/n, we can try”. He was right but what relationship was only visible in the darkness of a nightclub? Only a promiscuous one. Yet, you didn’t want to give up. Not matter what kind of relationship it was you wanted to be with him. 

“So,,, what does that mean? That we are-”

“Dating, I guess” he added shortly, the corner of his lips lifting upwards. It sounded weird in your ears. Dating someone you had only met a couple of times but it felt right. This was where you belonged. In his arms, away from all your demons. He truly cared for you, not like the others. He was unlike those in your life that said that they cared but never wanted to know more than the surface level of your character. He wanted to know everything about you. Your hurt, your sorrows, your pain but also your happiness, your joy and your solace. He wanted to know you. 

Your hands trailed up and down his upper arms, his skin feeling soft against your touch. The two of you cuddled like this for a while, Changbin running his hands along your hair, its smell reminding him of a green meadow of millions of flowers in all shapes, colors and sizes. He didn’t want to leave but if he wasn’t back in the bar the boys would start looking for him and the last thing he wanted was 7 boys teasing him for getting it on. You were more than a hookup. More than just a fling. 

Changbin stood up, squinting his eyes in order to look for his clothes and finding them scattered all over the room. He pulled his underwear and jeans over his lower body before pulling his shirt over his top half, the black t-shirt sitting snugly around his muscles. He ran a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head before smirking at you. Such a tease. 

“Do you have to leave?” you asked with a whiny voice, your arms felt empty once again. He nodded.

“i’m afraid so, don’t want them thinking I've been transported back without them knowing, they get worried but that’s only natural I guess.” 

You nodded back, putting your cheek against the leather on the seat, your arm hanging straight down, the back of your hand limp against the floor. 

“Get dressed if you want to have some more fun or you can chill here for a moment but I have to warn you, that door doesn’t have a lock” Changbin said, pointing at the only door in the room. 

“i’ve already noticed that” you remarked, grabbing your panties and only after you’ve pulled them halfway up your thigh did you see Changbin smirking at you.

“You’re cuter than I thought” he said, pointing at your teddy bear panties with his chin, stepping closer to you. You looked away, biting your lip in embarrassment as you felt his hand on your hair, ruffling it sloppily. 

“You’re making fun of me!” you said back with a pout, pulling your pyjama pants over your bottom. 

“yeah, because you’re adorable” he said, placing a peck on your lips. You wanted more of him. He was simply addictive. 

But not even this universe wanted to see you two together.

Your eyelids got heavier, your eyebrows furrowing at the familiar yet distant feeling. It felt unknown until you saw the small specks clouding up your vision once again. 

“y/n? y/n, how are you?” Changbin said with worry, grabbing you by your shoulders and looking at your apathetic gaze. “N-no, y/n, don’t leave now”

You didn’t want to but you didn’t decide when you left. 

You harshly held Changbin in your arms, putting your forehead against his shoulder, rubbing against it. Changbin slowly put his hands around you, patting your back as salty tears rolled down your warm cheek, putting wet stains on his shirt. 

“shh,,, it’s ok y/n, are you feeling dizzy?” he asked carefully to which you nodded mellowly, your bottom lip quivering as the multicolored boxes of light flashed before your eyes. The room felt unstable, like your legs wouldn’t hold you much longer and they didn’t when you collapsed into Changbin’s arms, him holding you tightly to his chest as your knees buckled. Your voice was unstable, a silent cry pleading to be heard.

“I love you” you whispered in a frail voice. The ear-deafening music from outside was tuning out from your hearing, your words slurring at the end as you repeated yourself for the last time. 

“I love y-you”

Changbin was left hugging air, his arms empty as he opened his sparkling eyes. He was close to tears because he was left there. Without you. 

“HEY! WHERE IS- oh” 

Jisung burst through the black door, the six other boys standing close behind him as they looked around the room, eventually catching eye contact with Changbin.

“She went home” Changbin said softly, letting his arms fall to the sides. Jisung inched closer to him, patting him on the shoulder where your tears were still left as a souvenir of your love. 

“She’ll come back, don’t worry about it” Jisung said with a reassuring smile, leading Changbin to the door, out of the room that smelled like sex and tenderness.

“Euw,, what is this doing here? Does nobody know how to clean up?” Felix said pointing at the used condom on the floor. Changbin’s face went cold, stopping dead in his tracks. 

“is it yours or something Changbin?” Hyunjin laughed, pushing the youngest, Jeongin, in a fit of laughter. 

The room went quiet after Hyunjin’s cold laughter. It was pretty obvious.

“YOU FUCKED HER?” Jisung screamed in Changbin’s ear, making him flinch away and holding his ear in pain. The room filled with all sorts of teasing sounds, everything from “ooh~" to “AYE” in obnoxious voices. 

“Luckily he used a condom!” Minho snarled, glancing over at Chan that was ready to beat Minho into pulp. Chan sighed, regretting that he didn’t shove the condom in Minho’s smirky face. 

“No but seriously you guys, y/n is more than you think. It’s not just another person I fucked, she actually means something to me.” 

Just when Changbin thought he had something special some of the boys started laughing even harder, ruffling his hair and poking his cheeks.

“yeah right,,, what? are you guys dating or something?” Seungmin asked, rolling his eyes.

“yes, i’m serious you guys! I love her,,,” he said with a frown, already missing your touch.

“What idiot gets into a relationship 3 months before they have to go to rehab?” Minho says, retrieving a cigarette from the red packaging in the pocket of his leather jacket. 

Oh fuck. 

Rehab.

When someone recovers from their pain is when you disappear from the club. You are no longer a lost soul. You are no longer lost within yourself. And that’s when you return to the real world, your real world. 

Keeping secrets in a relationship was deceitful in Changbin’s eyes. If you belong to someone you should be as transparent as the liquor he poured into his ice cold glass every evening. He felt guilty. You poured your heart out for him, telling him everything that had hurt for so many years and here he was, pretending. He did that a lot, mainly because he was taught to be a reliable man. It wasn’t manly to feel. 

Which is why he left his home at a young age. He didn’t care if he worked a minimum wage job and lived in a destitute area, he was content as long as he didn’t live with his parents. But when you live alone it’s not rare that isolation creeps up on you and strokes your cheek with a feather light touch, inviting you over to a dance with the demons that would soon cloud up your mind. Alcohol was Changbin’s comfort. It was the only one that didn’t fail to reassure him. It was as if the bottles spoke to him, promising him that a life intoxicated was better than the life he was currently living. 

And he fell for it.

Every time.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted to live a life that is actually worth living. Change comes from within but he needed help and he had only recently realized that he had a problem, that these toxic liquids were what’s keeping him from chasing the dream life. He didn’t dream of much, just the average life would be more than enough, with someone he loved. 

But what was he supposed to do?

Take the step to recover or continue his addiction for the sake of being with you?

The demons whispered softly in his ears.

Life or Love?

Taglist ; @minholuvs @liz820​ @skztrashbag @lix-freckle3​ 

[cazimagines]

I wanna fuck you like an animal

Synopsis: You and Zemo did not get along, in fact, you went out of your way to anger him at every opportunity until your lust and anger for each other couldn't hold back anymore

Word count: 2.9k

Author’s note: First I'd like to thank all the lovely anons who sent in requests when I asked for some Zemo ones, I've used a combination of some of them here to come up with this. This was just a quick little something I whipped up so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: hate fucking, degradation, gloved fingering, oral (M receiving), vaginal sex

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(Please check out navigation to see what I will be writing next, add yourself to my taglist and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

A sharp breath drew through Zemo’s noise, a vein within his neck twitching and his grasp upon the glass within his gloved hand grew a little bit tighter as he furiously watched the way you deliberately left the milk out of the fridge as you finished up brewing your tea. His eyelids narrowed as he watched you step away from his kitchen, leaving it a complete mess. He tried to glare some sense into you but when that didn’t succeed let out an irritable sigh, placing his glass upon the table before him and huffing at he pulled himself out of his seat to clean up the mess. Cleanliness was important to him, vital even especially in one of his old houses which still held many fond and dear memories to him.

You breathed happily as you collapsed upon the sofa in the room, instantly pulling your feet up to lie upon the sofa earning another icy glare from Zemo which made your lips curl. For someone who was considered a dangerous villain, a cold-hearted manipulator, he was extremely easy to rile up. You enjoyed the ways his eyes would glare daggers into you, his face would redden, how he would lose some of his composure, trying his best not to lash out at you in worry about how James and Sam might react.

You were, what you considered yourself to be, Bucky’s younger adopted sister. You were forced into hydra at a young age, trained to be an agent for them and oftentimes you would work alongside Bucky in his missions. You weren’t a super soldier like him but they still had brainwashed you and given you the best training they could so that you could defeat most people in a fight. When Bucky however managed to escape the clutches of Hydra, he made sure to go back and get you and since then you two have been inseparable. He looked out for you like an older brother would and with no other family for either of you, you became each other’s family.

Naturally, you had to go on this mission with Bucky, he wasn’t leaving you out of it, and naturally, you didn’t like Zemo for what he had done to Bucky, and therefore you made it your mission to piss him off at every opportunity you could get. It was remarkably easy for how wound up he was. Such as now when you placed your cup of tea upon the expensive wooden table without a coaster, knowing it would stain.

Zemo’s eyes followed your movement and his jaw clenched in anger remembering how much that table had cost. His hands held onto the side of the kitchen counter tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried to push back his annoyance and let it simmer. His efforts were quickly deterred however when you accidentally knocked over the tea with your foot.

“Whoops!” you exclaimed, your words laced with amusement at the situation rather than guilt for spilling the tea. You watch the liquid run across the smooth table but make no move in trying to prevent it causing Zemo to sharply grasp a towel and rush over to clear it up.

“Did you practise at being one of the most brainless people in the world, or does it come naturally to you” Zemo hissed as he sped by you, kneeling down at the table and whipping the cloth over it.

“It’s all-natural baby” you gleam, smiling sarcastically at Zemo who in return snaps his head to glare at you before turning back to the table, “Did you practise at being an insufferable asshole, or is that all-natural to you as well?”

Zemo slams the cloth down onto the table, finally spinning around you face you with his lips curled, “You are one to talk about insufferable asshole”

You scoff, shaking your head to the side then looking back to Zemo and stand up, “I wasn’t the one who blew up the UN and then used someone as a weapon”

Zemo tilts his head, his eyes narrowing again as he scrutinizes you and follows suit standing up as well, “So that is what all of this is about then hmm, you are being a brat because of what I have done?”

“Is it not obvious?” you quickly reply, crossing your arms over your chest.

Zemo doesn’t say anything for a second, instead, his eyes leave yours to trail over the rest of your body, as his tongue does its usual thing of flicking out and licking his lip slightly.

“I have another theory” Zemo finally states, taking a step forward while you take a step back. This little dance of yours continues as Zemo talks until you can’t move any further, hitting the back of the kitchen counter and with Zemo only a few inches away from you.

“Blaming me for what I’ve done as a reason for your behaviour? That is merely an excuse. Truly, you enjoy being a brat, you enjoy seeing me irritated, angry… intense”

You bite the inside of your lip, feeling the disguises you had put up about your behaviour slowly getting ripped away from you. Zemo’s gloved hand moved up to trail your jawline, softly following its line before his two fingers grasped your chin, forcing it up so you met his eyes as his eyes glancing down at your lips.

“You want me to put you in your place”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your insides becoming increasingly warmer and from the way, Zemo was looking at your lips, it made you lean in expecting to feel his own lips upon your but then the gloved hand leaves your chin and the radiating warmth from Zemo’s body leaves causing your to snap your eyes back open in confusion.

“Why would I fuck you, I despise you, I hate you. You don’t deserve it” he growls, his voice rough as his eyes pierce into you.

“That’s why you want to fuck me” you were quick to reply, now stepping up to Zemo closing the distance between the two of you, “Because you feel that anger coursing through your veins, you feel the need to let it all out before it consumes you, to feel that release, and you know the only way you can feel it is through me”

“Don’t tempt me”

“Why not?”

Your body was pushed back onto the kitchen counter roughly, your ass hitting it making you hiss through your teeth. One of his hands was on your waist while his other hand grabbed your hair, yanking your face up so that he could push his hot lips onto yours. Instantly his tongue was inside your mouth, exploring every area he could as the kiss grew messier. You couldn’t breathe, nor move, all you could do was push back against his mouth with the same amount of drive, attempting to gain back some sort of power. Finally pulling away he captured your lip within his teeth and tugged it, not caring about the marks or a bit of skin he might tear with the action, the feeling of it though made a moan escape you which went straight down to your crotch.

You barely had time to recover from that kiss when he pressed his gloved fingers to your lips, urging them inside your mouth.

“Suck” he ordered and obediently you did so. The leather wasn’t a particularly nice taste within your mouth but the sensation of his gloved fingers prodding at your tongue and pushing as far down as they could in your throat, making you gag was a feeling that was driving you wild.

When he eventually pulled his fingers away, covered in your salvia, he quickly worked at putting your trousers and pants down with one hand, grasping your thighs so tightly it would leave bruises he lifted you up on the counter and with a hand on each thigh, he pushed your legs open for him, and a low chuckle came out of his mouth as the sight of how wet you already were.

With the two gloved fingers you had already sucked, still glistening with saliva he lowered them down to your cunt and without warning, he pushed them inside of you.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion, the gloves splitting your channel open unmercifully. The leather within you was warm but rough. You could feel it rubbing against your wet walls, getting soaked in your juices and the texture meant you could feel the way you throbbed around them, how your walls were already trying to pull them in as far as they could go. Already though Zemo was pulling his fingers out, just to thrush them back into you again making your body quiver as your hands grasped his shoulders of hold onto something in relief.

He started pushing his fingers in and out of you rapidly, determined to make you sore from the friction. His gloved thumb came up and rubbed around till he found your clit and with that he pressed down as hard as he could which lead to your head falling back, your eyes widened and your mouth hung open in a silent gasp from the wave of pleasure that was pushed through you.

Your hips moved on their own now, fucking yourself onto his fingers as he continued to push his fingers as far into your cunt as he could while his thumb twisted brutally on your clit. He was pushing you closer and closer to the edge and you were helping him, needing this angry, this reckless fucking.

“Look at what a slut you are” Zemo growled, his eyes fixed on the way your cunt wrapped around his fingers, greedily pulling him in.

“You were desperate for it, to the point that you’d let me fuck you with gloves on. Could you go anymore low”

You were unable to form retorts anymore, instead, the only thing you could do was close your eyes and moan out one word, one name, “Zemo”

It spurred him on. He angled his fingers to hit that spongy sweet spot inside of you, pushing so hard against it that your vision went dark as you were blinded by stars, your whole body thrashing on the table, only not falling off from Zemo’s other hand gripping you.

When you came down from your high Zemo pulled his fingers out of you, observing your wetness dripping off them and onto the floor and so he thrust them in front of your face again.

“Lick” he commanded and eagerly you wrapped your lips around them, tasting yourself upon the leather.

After that he pulled you off the kitchen counter, tugged his gloves off with his teeth and then placing a hand on each of your shoulders he pushed you to your knees so that your face was only inches from his crotch. No words were said, no words needed to be said. All that needed to be done was to be fucked thoroughly.

Zemo’s hands quickly worked upon his zipper, tugging it open and pulling out his dick in front of you. The girth of it made you swallow slightly in panic but when his hand found your hair again, you obediently opened your mouth. Instantly he lined it with your mouth and then thrust in, with his hand on your hair he pulled you all the way down on his dick with one movement.

You gagged, feeling it hit the back of your throat and instantly tears sprung to your eyes from not being able to breathe. Your hands reached up and grasped his thighs in an attempt to support yourself and Zemo just chuckled, watching how your lips wrapped around him, how red your cheeks had become and feeling the way you chocked around him was ecstatic.

His hand pulled your head back, letting you slide off him and granting you some mercy to be able to breathe but just as quickly he thrust you onto him again. Without caring for your need he continued to face fuck you, thrusting his hips forward as he buried your face onto him, your nose hitting his public hair making you grimace, but hearing the small moans coming from Zemo lips and watching the way his own cheeks started to take a pink tinge was enough to get you dripping again. You even started to press your tongue up against the underside of his dick, feeling the way his veins throbbed against it, trying to grant him some more pleasure.

“This was what you were made for” Zemo grunted as he thrust into your mouth again, his eyes narrowed from the bliss, “To be used by the likes of me, to serve as a hole for me to use. It serves a brat like you right, to be put in your place. I should cum all over this pretty little face, show the whole world what a slut you are, how you were begging for this.”

You could feel him getting nearer from the way he twitched in your mouth, the louder his moaning was becoming but this wasn’t what he wanted and so he quickly tugged your face away from him so he wouldn’t come.

His hand roughly grabbed your arm and forced you up on your feet again, though you almost fell back down, still trying to recover from your previous orgasm. Swiftly he spun you around and with his hand on your back he pushed you onto the counter and pulled down the rest of your trousers. You just whimpered in anticipation, waiting for the moment, and speedily it came when he thrust inside of you.

You let out a loud moan mixed in with a gasp as he pushed all the way into you straight away, forcing you open roughly. You could feel every edge, every vein of him inside you, pushing you open further than you had been before. Instantly he pulled almost all the way out and then back again. His hand quickly leant forward to grasp your hair again, pulling your face up from the counter, his other hand grasped your hip in order to steady your body as he thrust quickly into you.

There was no passion here but rather an animalistic drive, the need to let off steam and anger as he fucked into you. He wasn’t gentle or kind, letting you know still how he felt about you but the harsh nature of it had you dripping anyway, turning you on more than it ever should

“What would Bucky say if he saw you now” Zemo grunted, his grip on your hair tightening, pulling it tauntingly. “His little, bratty sister being put in her fucking place. Treated as the slut she is. What is it like knowing you have my dick inside of you? That I, the one who killed those people, forced your brother to do my bidding, am wrecking you, making you unable to think of anything else apart from how my dick feels inside of you, pounding into you?”

You let out a loud groan from his words, insisting you to gride yourself back onto Zemo to get him in further, “It feels great” you finally managed to say. Your legs shook as you felt the coil within you starting to get tighter as he pushed against that blissful spot inside of you. His thrusts grew from fast to short and quick thrusts as he lent down on your body, his lips beside your ear, grunting every time he thrust his hips forward. His hair fell from its usual position, sweaty as pieces fall over his forehead, his teeth were beared as his lips were pulled back in a snarl as he continued to push into you.

“Z-Zemo” you gasped, feeling on the tip of exploding, gushing all over him and as he thrusts into that spot one last time and now choosing to bite down on your skin to leave a mark, you cried out loudly coming again this time all over his dick.

He didn’t stop thrusting however, he carried on all the way through your release as he sought after his own. You whimpered at the overstimulation as he fucked you through your release, your walls grasping him tightly as he rubbed against them. All you could do was lie there, moaning every time his hips met your’s again, not even able to form words anymore. All your mind could comprehend was the feeling of him moving inside of you, the slapping sound of his skin meeting yours and the little grunts he let out.

Zemo had stood up again, letting go of your hair to instead hold onto your hips, his grip surely causing bruises. He pulled you back onto his dick as he thrust forward and with a few more brutal thrusts in, his head flung back so his eye was up at the ceiling, briefly losing himself as he came inside of you, his cum coating your walls.

You let out one last little cry at the sensation of his cum being buried inside of you, and then with ease, he slipped back out of you as if nothing had happened. You didn’t have the energy to move, instead just lying upon the surface, breathing heavily, trying to recover slowly.

Zemo sorted himself up, pushing himself back onto his trousers, styling his hair again and when he was done he simply sneered down at you, his lips curling in disgust.

“You might want to clean yourself up before your brother comes back in and sees you as the whore you are”

With that, he stormed out of the room leaving you behind to attempt to recover from that earth-shattering fuck, knowing that one time was nearly not enough time to be with him.

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