#what was going on behind the scenes of this show?!

[rottiens]

NOCTURNAL WALTZ | RYŌMEN SUKUNA

✮ summary. . when life tries to ruin your dreams you keep trying. you get up, wipe the sweat off and try again, even when you fall… it's either that, or ally yourself with your rival and hope he doesn't drag you down to the bottom of hell with him.

✮ cw. . workplace harassment (not from sukuna), slight possessiveness, slight violence (blood), alcohol consumption, smoking, eventual smut, exhibitionism, choking kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, 18+

✮ tags. . modern + ballet au, enemies to friends to lovers, briefly fake dating, all characters are adults, descriptions used for the reader: fem + afab!, backstory, has hair long enough to tie, wears dress in one scene. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ wc. . 18K

Ever since you were a little girl all you've known to do is dance. 

You did it at school performances, you did it at Christmas when your whole family gathered in the living room and the snow fell cold on the tall treetops and red flowers in your garden. 

You always remember the scene wistfully and in slow motion, longing for the days that will never return. Your father played the piano and your mother looked on proudly, her hands were always clasped together at chest level watching you with the eyes of an owl making circles with your legs in the air. She always had that expression on her face as if she was afraid you were going to fall, she was always on the edge of her seat, her lips curved into a smile— after all, she was in charge of organizing all your choreography and choosing the songs you were going to dance to, along with your shoes and your outfit. All this was until you were fifteen when you begged her to finally enroll you in a real dance school.

You remember how nervous you were on the first day. You wore your hair pulled back so tight it looked like you were smiling the whole time, your eyebrows stretched and your stomach felt like that Halloween night where you ate so much candy your guts hurt, though all of this was pushed aside the moment you saw the great ballroom.

The walls rose far higher than your little eyes could see. White lights glowed against the beige walls —which your teenager self mentally corrected them later, it wasn't beige, it was salmon, with curtains the color of the peach your mother cut on Sunday mornings— and in the background you could appreciate a melody you knew well since it was your mother's favorite, the one she always chose for you to dance: "dance of the sugar plum fairy." 

Training professionally was much more demanding than your mom had told you. You studied in the morning and practiced in the afternoon, your feet hurt all the time in the beginning although with time this became more bearable, however they never stopped hurting because you never stopped practicing. 

The lights blinded you for a moment leading you to run away from the incandescent glowing light, causing you to stumble and Sukuna purposely let you fall from his arms so that you kissed the ground. 

Your body hits the wooden floor with a dull thud, the live music doesn't stop because of your accident and the director of the ballet claps twice again. It's the signal that the show must go on, it's what the music means that instead of slowing down it rushes to climax, you force yourself to stand up, with a sukuna growling tiredly behind you. No one helps you so you do it alone, you bury your toes in the wood and your injured feet push off the ground and support your weight once more as you rise phoenix-like on your tips.  

This is what it takes to be a pro, is what your mother would say if she were alive. You hear her voice loud and strong in your eardrum along with the noise of the music. 

One, two and... up!

You hear her ask you for more. Lift your foot more, lift your knees more, straighten your back more. You're trying but—

"You're being too rough," you spit through gritted teeth. Maintaining the fake smile your character must wear. 

You know he hears you, yet he remains silent, twisting and turning, holding you above his head and taking one last turn.... Everything seems blurry from your point of view, your stomach churning like a roller coaster even though you don't remember the last thing you ate because this was exactly what you wanted to avoid. 

Don't throw up, don't throw up.

You catch the two claps from the director indicating that sukuna should drop you and that's exactly what he does... with a little more force than he should, his hands are loose on your waist, barely gripping you. Your arms stretch, they tremble in the air as does your smile, a cold sweat that shouldn't be there runs down your temples, you feel the salty drops slide over your lower lip and your breathing becomes almost nonexistent, your chest rises and falls and then sukuna lets you go, you are alone, the lights focus completely on you and you hear laughter in the background. 

This is the moment where you must do your solo. Spin alone one more time and then let yourself fall. Your feet don't respond at first, you had forgotten your smile, very focused on moving your legs but when you manage to do it you falter again and collapse on the floor with a harder impact than the previous time. Now the music comes to a sudden stop. 

You hear him sigh heavily, followed by the fluttering of the sheets of paper in his hand. Kurogawa, the director, puts his glasses on his head like a makeshift headband and slaps his hands once. 

Immediately the whole room fills with noise, people start moving. Even your dance partner who although you don't see him, you feel him walking and moving away from you. You have a hard time getting up, this time you really have a hard time. Your body has been beaten to a pulp by the dozens of practices you have carried out these days, your dress and tights hide the bruises that have permeated the floor on them, you carry on your hips sukuna fingers by the force in which he has grabbed you, even so, you do not manage to perform the spin that should come out naturally. 

You are a star, this is what you were born to do and this is what you have always done, why can't a dumb spin come out perfectly? 

Kurogawa calls your name before you can move further away. You freeze in the middle of the stage, grateful to be away from the spotlight and more in the comfort of the gloom. 

You sense his footsteps approaching, with each footstep his heels announce how close he is and your body trembles, your teeth chatter and you force yourself to be still. 

"What's the matter?" His voice is neither far nor near. 

"I don't..." you force your lip between your teeth before articulating your next words. You can't say you can't. 

"I asked you a question." His body is behind you, stopping the draft that touched your back, serving as a wall that exudes warmth and insecurity. 

His hand curls around your forearm with some force and makes you turn to see him, his violet eyes are naked, without the glasses he looks much younger, yet a couple of gray hairs escape from the improvised headband reminding you of the age difference. 

Kurogawa examines you up and down, his eyes linger on your mouth for a moment and you think maybe he notices how dry they are, this prompts you to lick them suddenly. 

"Do you want me to switch someone for you? There are dozens of girls who wish they were in your shoes." 

"I know, sir." You bite your lip to control your emotions, and swallow the bitter bile rising up your esophagus. 

His hand descends from your forearm to the width of your shoulder blades. "I don't think you appreciate it enough." This time he addresses you in a lower tone, he's hunched down to be at your height and the tone he uses would seem like he's telling a secret. His fingers run down the length of your back, you feel his fingers drag the fabric and linger on your lower back. "Is it Ryōmen? Is he the problem?" Then he pulls you closer to his body, this time there is no space between you, his leg is touching yours and his bittersweet breath, the taste of liquor mixed with wilted petals brushes your nose. 

"I feel that we are not compatible, sir."

"Ah..." exclaims Kurogawa, still glued to you. "Are you implying that my best student isn't good enough for you?" 

"I think..." he was too close for you to even think of anything. You try to see past his shoulders that steal all the light yet there is nothing but darkness, and the chill in your temples moves to your lower abdomen. 

“Child... you're lucky your daddy paid a lot of money for you to be here, I don't think there's much talent in you.” Your mascara-filled lashes flutter like the wings of a swan. Your lips part to ask for space, but you're interrupted, he says your name and it's bitter, it sounds disgusting in his throat. “But the untalented ones, they can always do something else, can't they?” 

Suddenly, someone calls your name again from the vast darkness behind you. 

“Don't keep me waiting. You made me promise to take you home, brat.” 

Kurogawa takes a moment to detach himself from you and you inhale in despair, you were drowning in his cheap cologne and alcohol stench. Sukuna is behind him, like a silhouette, you can barely make out his body. 

You don't stop to look at the director when you step out of his reach, you don't even do it with Sukuna and run far away from there. The silence that settles in the corridor is terrifying, you feel like running to get away as fast as you can from there, however you try to keep your composure, you tighten the fabric of the tutu looking for some security and comfort in it breathing out of sync and when you manage to reach the street you have to lean back against one of the walls to regain your composure. 

You force yourself to breathe through your nose and let it out through your mouth forming a cold mist. The icy breath of the night is a slap of reality that makes your cheeks tingle and your legs and arms are the first to complain about the change in temperature. 

Sukuna appears at your side a few seconds later, he says nothing, so you force yourself to lift your head and check his expression. There are wrinkles in his brow and he has his hands tucked in his front pockets, you realize this is the first time you've seen him in casual clothes. He had had time to change out of his uniform to replace it with worn blue jeans and a black sweater that has blood red lettering embroidered on the chest. 

His presence floods you with the same excitement as the first time you stepped off the plane and the change of weather made your body bristle, making you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. You were scared like a mouse forced out of its burrow. As at that moment, all you needed was a hug. A ghostly force grabs you by the hips and lifts you off the brick wall, throwing you into the arms of your dance partner in search of the comfort you can't seem to find anywhere else these past few days.

Sukuna tenses up at your boldness. You are sobbing into his chest as if someone has passed away. He stands still for a while, allowing your hands to barely touch his hip, while the few passersby watch the peculiar scene, wondering what has happened; after all you are still outside the prestigious ballet academy.

Against all odds, he puts his hand on your back in an unprofessional way, in a way he has never done even dancing with you. His arm floats in the air in a strange and awkward motion until he decides to rest it on your lower back, completely pulling you closer to him. His left arm goes to your shoulder blades squeezing you to his chest completely, giving you a strange comfort that doesn't quite reach friendly.

Excessive tears prevent you from breathing, so you fight the grip and prison that is his ribcage to look up and search his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Your knees give out on you, though with his help you stabilize again. “What was it he said to you?”

You sniffle through your nose. Those red eyes seem to watch every move you make and suddenly, the heat of realization of how close you are begins to climb up your ribs until it sits on your chest.

“Nothing.”

“I saw how close you were. Whatever he said or did to you...” Sukuna pauses, weighing what he will say next. You see him close his mouth and his jaw tenses. “You can trust me, I know there are rumors that he...” 

“This is just an allergy,” you interrupt him by clearing your throat. 

Sukuna laughs. Not only does he laugh, but he brushes you aside as he bursts out laughing holding his stomach. You cross your arms and pucker your lips, feeling the indignation immediately.

Without saying anything to him and with the wind freezing the salty tears on your cheeks, you turn to walk away from him infuriated with yourself that you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with someone like him. 

“Brat!” he was still laughing. “Wait...” you hear him trot behind you, until his fingers pull your forearm back to force you to stop. “Your bag.”

When you notice what he's holding in his hands and had probably been carrying on his back, you realize that it was indeed your bag. You would have left it in the room along with your belongings in the locker had it not been for him. 

“Thank you,” is all you say, still suspicious of his thoughtfulness.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

As if it were part of a comedy scene, your stomach growls and Sukuna has to cover his mouth to contain his laughter. You look at him accusingly again. When he removes his hand from his face and raises it in submission, he reveals a smile that shows his teeth and fangs, returning to the predatory aura that always surrounds him.

“I'm gonna order sushi to go, you can join me if you want.” The wind makes you hug yourself again, avoiding his eyes at all costs. “It's across the street.”

Ryōmen Sukuna has been a pain in the ass ever since you met him at dance school. Ever since you arrived, all he's done is annoy you: bad-mouth you to your classmates, be rude in your presence, and belittle your work when you were chosen as the principal dancer. Having him here, pretending to care about you and inviting you to dinner, throws you off.

Realizing that you cried into his chest and, worse, were comforted by his touch, makes you feel guilty.

“I don't need your fake kindness.”

Sukuna lets out a snort and mimics you, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at you from above, like a superior being marking his position.

“It's just sushi. Don't act like I'm offering you an engagement ring. Just say no.”

“And that's what I said,” you reply with a bark, struggling to maintain your stance and what little courage you'd mustered to stand up to him.

You notice how Sukuna drops his arms and falls silent. Something inside you wants to continue arguing or just talk to someone. When you get “home”, you're just sitting on the bed staring at the ceiling, counting the times your room is illuminated by the lights of the cars passing by on the avenue or swiping on tiktok until you fall asleep.

You try to find an excuse to talk to him again, but you run out of ideas as you see him turn his back to you, checking the road up and down to make sure no vehicles are coming.

“Okay. I'll see you next week,” he says before crossing to the other side.

“Wait...” you call out to him, but Sukuna is about to reach the other sidewalk. He doesn't stop when you call out his name, even though you know he's listening. You step forward and shout again, a little louder this time. “Can you take me home?!”

Sukuna stops and turns slowly. You wish someone could wipe the ridiculous smile off his face and the incredulous expression he has right now. You instantly regret asking for his help.

You both wait patiently for the approaching cars to drive away in opposite directions, leaving you again in silence.

“What was that? I don't think I heard you,” Sukuna mutters, squinting his eyes and bending his body forward a bit.

You check both ends of the road before walking across and finding yourself face to face with him.

“I think I missed the bus,” you mumble hastily, a little embarrassed. “Please,” you add, doubting whether politeness will make any difference on this occasion. After all, you're dealing with Sukuna; you don't think being nice and kind will work with someone like him, so you opt to offer a bribe. “I'm going to pay you.”

“I don't need your money, brat,” he spits as soon as the words are out of your mouth, looking outraged when you look him in the face again.

“Can you stop calling me that?” Sukuna chuckles, clearly amused with a situation that you don't find funny at all. Your life is falling apart to pieces with every passing second, but to him it's a circus. “What's so funny?”

"Are you always so serious? It's a little annoying that you don't know how to take a joke; I wouldn't be surprised if you had no friends."

You want to slap him, even though you know it wouldn't make any difference. You've felt him behind you, leaning against your back, his firm hands holding your hips and helping your movements flow, so a slap on his shoulder would be in vain, it would only make him laugh.

Now you want to slap yourself regretting that you decided to talk to him in the first place, that you showed yourself vulnerable. 

“Are you going to take me or not?” you insist.

“Give me your address.” Sukuna pulls his phone out of one of his front pockets and types as you give him the direction. Exactly three seconds later he exclaims, “Are you staying in a motel? I thought you had money.”

You don't know how much more you can take before you explode; you clench your fists some more, trying to contain your anger.

“I don't think that's really any of your business.”

You stand in silence for another while. He checks his phone while you watch him. The sign behind him above your heads is decorated with pink neon lines that flashes forming the name of the restaurant.

Sukuna sighs wearily, catching your attention. “Okay, join me in ordering something to go first.”

Sukuna doesn't wait for you to complain or agree with his proposal before he starts walking ahead of you, his steps slow and unhurried. You decide to follow him at a distance that gives the impression that you are not together.

With an open hand, Sukuna pushes open the transparent door and a bell announces the entrance of new customers. The place is immersed in an elegant and serene atmosphere; the aroma of rice floats freely in the air, filling your hungry stomach that growls for a mouthful of whatever they are cooking. Aside from three girls at the counter taking their orders, there are no customers other than the two of you.

You let Sukuna move on as you stop to admire the details of the place. The walls are painted in warm tones that emulate natural wood, and the ceiling has hanging paper lamps that create soft lighting.

The low murmur of water in a small koi pond in the center of the room catches your attention. You approach and watch the fish swimming freely in the water currents; you bend down to observe one in particular that appears to have a scar on one of its fins. You squint your eyes and move closer to the pond to check if the fish is okay, but at that moment the light of the restaurant is interrupted by the body weight of someone overshadowing it.

When you look up, you find Sukuna scowling at you. You don't understand what that look means and decide not to insist on deciphering it. You straighten up to try to match his height.

“Let's go.”

“So soon?” it seemed like they were waiting for him.

You watch his hands, holding a white paper bag with the restaurant's logo on the top. Then you notice the girls who seem to share a secret as they murmur, barely disguising that they are looking at you.

Sukuna continues to stare at you, so you decide not to say anything else and simply nod at his silent command. You make your way to the door and the bell rings again as you leave the place.

“Where's your car?”

You catch him grinning. Maybe you've said something he finds curious, or maybe he just wants to tease you because he can; being rude seems to come naturally to him after all. You let him lead the way and trace the way as he rummages for some keys in the back of his jeans, all the while heading towards the back of the restaurant.

Suspicious, you look around to make sure there is someone nearby who can help you if necessary. Amazement assaults you as you discover that in the back there is a parking lot, and there, in the middle of the empty spot, you see a bike. It's a shiny, black sportbike with red accents, sleek and modern looking.

The realization dries your throat.

“Is that yours?”

“Yup,” he looks amused and almost proud to actually own such a beautiful and imposing bike. You could taste the teasing tone in his voice and in the way he hurried his footsteps away from you, and you struggled to keep up with him.

Sukuna got on the bike and inserted the keys immediately, while you stood motionless, watching him hold it up with his feet so it wouldn't fall off.

“What are you waiting for?” He didn't have a helmet for himself, much less for you. He wasn't wearing gloves either, and that was perhaps the reason why his hands always felt rough when you had skin-to-skin contact when dancing.

You looked around you, meeting the vast nothingness again, as if you were asking the universe for help.

“I've never been on a bike,” you confessed to him without a filter.

You didn't know what to expect when you blurted that out, but it definitely wasn't Sukuna staring silently at you, stabbing you with those dagger-red eyes. 

“So what, are you scared? C'mon, come on up.”

You sighed deeply in surrender and climbed up the bike trying to touch him as little as possible, but always failing on the spot. Sukuna jerked a little along with the bike as you tried to improve your posture behind him, trying to lower what you could of your tutu so it wouldn't fly off when he started driving.

Eagerly waiting for him to pull you away, you slide your hands down his hips and cling to his body in search of a safety that immediately greets you. The engine growls like a beast making your whole body vibrate, you cling tighter to him closing your eyes tight for a moment before letting out a sigh. 

“Hold on tight,” he says, at the same time rolling his hand across the throttle.

You crinkle the fabric of his sweater under your fingers clinging to him as if your life depended on it. As he moves forward and picks up speed on the road, you hide your face in his back finding the same security as a few moments ago when you allowed yourself to sob into his chest. 

The last thing you expected on a monotonous Thursday night was to end up like this, hugging Sukuna who is the last person you would ask for help, right after having the second worst day of your life. You allow yourself to relax in his presence now that you are not looking at him and now that your thoughts are overpowered by the sound of the wind against your ears. 

You don't have time to elaborate any more nostalgic thoughts as Sukuna slows down and you are forced to return to the present, raising your head over his shoulder to check where you are. It was already completely dark when you arrive at the motel, and as you step into the gloom, you make out the dim lights flickering in the distance, indicating the other rooms that must be inhabited by people like you, with no settled place to go or belong.

“You can leave me here,” you indicate speaking slowly, longing for the moment when you can step onto solid ground again and return to the safe space that was your motel room, that even if it smelled like cheap detergent and the green apple spray you bought at the nearby gas station convenience store, you've managed to call home these past few months.

Sukuna obediently stops the bike near room 147 and allows you to get off, without asking questions or making conversation, which surprises you. Discomfort washes over you from your feet covered by ballerina slippers, up your cold legs until it reaches your chest.

“Thank you,” is all you say out of kindness. Instinctively you hug yourself, shrugging your shoulders toward your ears in search of some warmth.

Sukuna looks you up and down, and in his eyes you notice that spark of accusation or perhaps contempt, similar to the one you saw in your father the last time he visited you.

You wait for him to finally say something, after long seconds that feel endless, but you interrupt him before he gets the chance.

“I'm quitting.” You don't know why you say that, your body expels it as an automatic reaction, similar to vomiting after a hangover.

You immediately regret it and turn away. Little interested in what he might say next, you hasten your steps to run away from him and hide in your shelter as soon as possible.

“I thought it was allergies.” Bastard. You grind your teeth, clenching your fists. You don't have the energy to fight him; what little of the mask you put on to pretend you're the perfect woman will soon unravel like Cinderella's spell, and you don't want that to happen while you're arguing with him.

“I thought you were a tough girl.” You hear him yell again, as you try to pretend he doesn't exist. You turn left, in the direction of your room, the last one in the whole row.

“I can help.” Those words slow your steps to a complete stop. It takes you a moment to find the courage to turn around, but you finally do, taking a breath of air and looking him straight in the eye.

The distance between you is about the size of a bus, not much, but enough to look like a pair of cowboys about to have a duel and so that anyone listening can pick up on your discussion thanks to the silence of the night.

“Help with what?” you ask, defiantly.

Sukuna looks up at the sky for a moment, as if the answer is in the clouds. Without looking at you, he replies, “To be less of a dick, maybe.” Asshole. “To teach you how to relax once you're under the lights.”

You fold your arms. “If...?”

He grins, clearly amused with how much he's enjoying the situation, and you want to shout into the wind how much you hate him. Now you understand why he doesn't like you; your personalities are very different. You like the summer, he probably likes the cold. He's always teasing and getting under your skin, while you have to constantly fight not to break. You are polar opposites of different worlds.

“If you help me with something.”

“With what exactly?” you ask almost instantly. 

“It's just a favor,” he replies with a shrug.

“What kind of favor?” you insist.

“It's not that kind of favor,” he says with a gesture of annoyance.

“What's in it for you?”

“Can't I help a partner?”

You're tired of playing this game. It's clearly draining your time and energy. You appreciate that he brought you home and behaved with the slightest decency you would expect from an empathetic human being seeing someone cry, but you've had enough. You turn to leave, feeling it's not worth wasting any more time on this. You plan to sleep thinking about your decision and send a letter to the director tomorrow morning. With what little money you have left, you hope to travel back to your home country.

“I need help with my grandfather.” It's as if Sukuna drops a hook that your innocence fishes for. You're not sure what he's referring to, but your curiosity compels you to turn once more and face him. This time, you close the distance with each new unsure step. 

Watching you walk towards him, Sukuna continues. “Monthly he sends fish to Yokohama. The guy who was helping me quit a few months ago, so I've had to do it alone, which is a pain in the ass,” he runs a hand through his tousled hair from the trip, seemingly remembering.

“Why me?”

“Don't think you're special,” he grumbles with a growl, reflecting on what he just said, he adds. “What I mean is, it's a favor for a favor. I'll tutor you on how to improve as a dancer, and you help me with the fish. It's a win-win.”

You hate the idea of training alone with him almost as much as working moving fish, or whatever it is you're going to do, but...that was the only choice you had. It was either this or actually quit and go home empty-handed, face your failure and your father, and break the promise you had made to your mother before she died. Besides, with Sukuna as a sort of watchdog working with you you think maybe Kugawara wouldn't bother you again, though the thought of it happening again makes your skin crawl.

You nod finally, averting your gaze to your feet for a moment. “Okay. When do we start?”

“Tomorrow I'll come by and pick you up around 3:30. We'll do the fish delivery and then we can practice.”

“Okay.”

“Be on time 'cause I hate waiting,” he snorts. 

Maybe working with Sukuna wasn't such a bad idea after all. You spend all day cooped up in that old motel room, watching the cars go by and waiting for the time and days when you have to go train again. It's boring to be stuck in there doing nothing but waiting for the days to pass, so the idea of visiting another city, seeing new places and maybe discovering more about who Ryōmen Sukuna was seems appealing to you; you can't deny it.

There's so much mystery surrounding him that you can't help but be drawn in.

Fri. 4/14 • 5:50PM — 

You mentally cross out what you thought the night before and wish yesterday's version of you had thought more or at least asked more questions before blindly agreeing. Working with Sukuna was terrible, much worse than you imagined before you fell asleep. You hated the fishy smell permeating your clothes, rather, clothes you borrowed from Sukuna belonging to the boy who quit earlier. The uniform was baggy and threadbare: the faded blue T-shirt had sweat stains and stale smell, while the pants are baggy, a bit long and a dull gray color, with a loose belt to adjust the size. 

You wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand after putting the last box of fish in the restaurant's freezer and being thankful to be done with everything for the day. You restrain yourself from complaining to Sukuna for not making it clear to you exactly what work you would be doing because after all it had been your fault for not asking and trusting unquestioningly. As you bite the inside of your cheek to control your tongue, you realize that inside the colors and patterns are the same as the sushi restaurant across the street from the academy, which makes you think they are probably from the same brand.

Outside, the clear Yokohama sky shows a bright sun toasting your cheeks as Sukuna finishes signing papers behind you. The change of season has the weather undecided, on the verge of leaving winter behind; some spring mornings are warm and the nights, cold.

His shoes clack against the pavement as he approaches you. With a light tap on your forearm, you hear him chuckle, following it up with, “Who knew? I didn't know you could carry so much weight.”

He doesn't wait for your response and continues on his way to the white truck. With your eyes narrowed and your feet begging you for a break, you walk to the waiting, lit truck and slam the door shut. Being in the cold air, with your sore feet now stretched out should feel more comforting. You're protected from the sun's rays and its warmth, and the spicy apple air freshener is pleasant enough to make you forget that it's spring. However, the situation is not entirely delightful for you. 

Sukuna next to you seems immune to the silence that you find so uncomfortable. You take a quick glance at him and find him staring down the road as he drives back to town. He has one hand curled around the steering wheel and the other resting on his leg. His uniform is different from yours; his consists of an impeccable white shirt and blue pants tailored to fit him navy blue, on the left side at chest height he has the restaurant's name written on it. 

Now that his shirt sleeves are rolled up, you can make out the tattoos on his wrist: two thick black rings run along his skin. Being so close to him and noticing the black ink permeating the skin makes you wonder if they hurt him much. The thought that he probably has more tattoos on areas of his body that you can't see thanks to the clothing comes into your head, but you'd rather push that image away and look straight ahead.

Traffic is moving slowly, with seas of vehicles coming and going on a dual carriageway Sukuna has to slow down every so often because the cars stop which makes you understand that you will be stuck here for a while. Bored with the silence and not wanting to be the first to speak, you take the liberty of turning on the radio, jumping from station to station before finding one that plays old romantic music.

Sukuna makes a snorting sound, prompting you to look directly at him. When your gazes meet, you'd rather ignore the feeling in your stomach and the cocked grimace you manage to notice on his lips before he undoes it.

“What?” you ask him, surprised that your tone doesn't sound as dismissive as usual. “I can find another station if...”

“It's my grandfather's favorite,” he confesses to you quietly. “That one's fine.”

Your fingers slowly move away from the radio, processing what he's confessed to you and considering that this might be a window into getting to know him better.

“You said you were helping him —  is this his business?”

Sukuna hums as if weighing the words, tapping the steering wheel a couple of times. “Yes.”

You blink slowly. “Do you guys have a lot of time in the market?”

“Yes,” he repeats again and you fill your lungs with the smell of spicy apple and his subtle cologne.

You resign yourself to having a monosyllabic conversation with him so you press your lips together and rest your chin on your hand looking out the window. From where you are, you can admire the horizon and the still blue water being illuminated by the intimate rays of afternoon sun. Seagulls circle the shore and you imagine their deep song filling the bay.

“I can't remember the last time I went to the beach.” You wanted to dip your feet in the water, let the waves massage them from side to side, feel the sand between your toes and the sun warming your skin—

“Honestly, me neither. Since I've been working with fish, the beach seems less exciting to me, I don't know if that makes sense.”

You look at him, did you just say that out loud? Sukuna watches you briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. You contemplate him longer than you need to before looking straight ahead again and watching the traffic move a little faster than before.

“Have you guys always worked with this?” you perk up to ask again, still keeping your gaze straight ahead.

“Seafood?” he seems to think, humming aloud. “The restaurant has been in the family for as long as I can remember. So...yeah.”

“That's strange. I never would have imagined you doing this kind of work.”

“Why?” he chuckles, as if sharing a secret with himself.  

“You're so good at dancing,” you admit, giving him a fleeting glance. “I didn't think you do anything more than that.”

“The best,” he instantly corrects you and you physically force yourself not to roll your eyes. 

“I thought you were a spoiled rich kid.”

You turn to catch him grimacing in annoyance. Clearly, he was conflicted about what you had just said.

“I like to dance, but I've always worked hard since I was little. Everything I know and everything I do I learned from my grandfather.”

“It's just the two of you?”

You notice him frowning and speed up quickly before the light turns red. His lips open, but before he can respond, he stops the truck abruptly causing the boxes in the back to rampage and crash into each other as Sukuna shouts insults at the bicyclist who sped in front of him.

You admire him for a while longer: pursed lips, furrowed brow and hands tense around the wheel. Then, you turn your gaze ahead to catch the cyclist fleeing in front of you at full speed, now barely a distinguishable silhouette. Wasting no time, Sukuna sets off down the road again as you wonder what it was he was going to answer. Now, curiosity towards him beckons you that much more.

As Sukuna turns at an intersection to return to Tokyo, you mentally review the information you have about him:

He really loves his grandfather, of that you are left in no doubt since he is the person he mentions the most, he is the only person he talks about in fact. Also, does he cook? You make a mental note of that with a question mark next to it because you're not sure if he just drives the truck or if he really knows how to cook. Third and probably most important, he's not as bad a person as you thought he was. Yes, you still feel like fighting with him and contradicting him at the slightest argument, but that's because of resentment built up over the months. If you were meeting him today for the first time or even if you actually worked for him, you would be encouraged to recognize him as introverted at best, which makes you wonder if the person you see in the academy is just part of the show. Could this be his true personality? And what else is hidden underneath the mask?

The rest of the trip passes in silence as you immerse yourself in your thoughts and theories. The radio station gradually changes from romantic music to more danceable current pop songs, causing you to hum all the way and move your body gently to the melody.

“Are you too tired?” asks Sukuna, once you are on the main road into town.

“Yeah. Why?” you grumble with a grunt, stretching your arms above your head and swinging your feet in circles.

He nods, pondering. “I'll take you to the motel then. We can train later.”

“Oh, no. I'm ready to start today.”

Suddenly, you don't feel so tired when it comes to dancing. You don't want to wait any longer to start practicing and improving, and the truth is, the longer you go without improving, the faster the day of the final presentation comes.

Sukuna pulls into the parking lot of a tall building, moving inside the place illuminated by white lights until he comes to a complete stop next to the bike that you instantly recognize as his.

You get off the truck first with your bag slung over your shoulder, shake your feet again and perform brief stretches as you wait for Sukuna who passes by you walking certainty towards the elevator; you follow him like his shadow.

“You live here?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I thought we were going to train,” you say, wondering if his apartment will have enough space. 

“We will.”

“But...”

“Have you been told you ask too many questions?”

You fall silent as you stand inside the elevator and he presses a button that immediately turns gold, the elevator jolts smoothly and begins to slowly travel through each floor until it reaches number ten. The doors open along with a soft chime, and Sukuna is the first to step out guiding you to his floor.

The apartment complex is modern and elegant. The walls are adorned with dark wood paneling and a floor made of synthetic fur. Sukuna walks confidently down the hallway and you follow him noting the numbered doors with sleek steel plates. When you reach the door to his apartment, he takes his keys out of his pocket and inserts them into the lock opening the door with a quiet click.

He invites you in first with a nod and as you do so you find a well-decorated and tidy space, perhaps somewhat different from what you had imagined. The polished wood floor is covered by a neutral-toned carpet; the room has contemporary furniture and a wall adorned with framed photographs.

You discreetly observe your surroundings, longing to linger a little longer observing the photographs on the wall and get to know his family, however Sukuna keeps moving in front of you without giving you time to get a chance to do so. 

“I knew you were a rich kid...”

He chuckles softly. “Come.” Sukuna guides you into a hallway and stops in front of a wooden door. “Shower,” he instructs you as he sees your confusion, struggling not to flash another one of those smiles you'd grown accustomed to. “You stink of fish. Get changed, I'll be waiting for you on the terrace.”

A bitter resistance dies on your tongue. The lingering smell of raw fish clings to your clothes like an unwanted shadow. You decide not to protest that just this once he is right and instead turn your back on him, clinging to your bag as you walk into the bathroom.

You decide to take a quick shower using the first liquid soap you find on top of the sink, scrubbing your body with your hands and quickly wetting your hair to freshen it up a bit, making a note to wash it properly when you get to the motel.

When you're done, you emerge from the bathroom in one of your practice outfits that fits snugly to your body for flexibility. You tie your hair up in a high bun so it won't bother you and head with determination towards the terrace where Sukuna was waiting for you.

The sunset tints the sky with reddish hues, creating a celestial spectacle among the clouds. The terrace is decorated with potted green plants and comfortable armchairs with cushions piled at the back, leaving enough space to move around without bumping into furniture. 

Dim lights hang from the ceiling, subtly illuminating the space. And in the background, soft instrumental music plays, similar to what the academy plays. Sukuna is sitting stretching his legs out on the floor in a V-shape, and with a barely perceptible gesture of his lips, he invites you to join him and imitate his movements. He bends his body gracefully and at will, and you do your best to keep up as good as you can.

Then, he stands gracefully and offers you his hand, drawing you to his chest.

“Your problem is that you don't trust me. You don't trust that I'm going to hold you when you jump...” You're ready to respond, but your lips seal when he continues. “So we need to fix that.”

The way he says it makes you shudder; you don't want to give in, but you know you have no choice now.

To the beat of the music, Sukuna wraps his hand around your waist and you mimic his steps— circles, one... two... until he stops and asks you to jump, but you hesitate, visibly trembling in his arms.

“Trust me,” he asks you with a serene exhale.

“I can't,” you reply, wetting your dry lips. Sukuna follows each stroke of your tongue before returning to your eyes, where the lashes fuss uneasily.

“You have to trust me as much as I trust you.”

Yet inside you, feelings of doubt and fear linger, like foolish specters whispering in your ear. You feel overwhelmed, not only by the pressure and responsibility on your back but by the closeness of your bodies, there is no space between your chests and if he leans in a little closer you could taste his breath.

“I can't,” you stammer, pulling away from him. “I think it was a bad idea to come,” you admit truthfully, letting your worries slip out loud.

Without you moving further away, his hands hold your wrist firmly making you spin around, and your tiptoed feet respond at once. He holds you still close to him, your back pressed against his chest rocking to the rhythm of the instruments.

“Jump.” Your heart races and you decide to close your eyes to concentrate on the drums pounding against your ribs, on the breath tangling in your lungs. His hands move up and down your waist, go to your ribs where he feels your heaving breath expand his palms. “Take a deep breath,” he speaks sweetly, his breath brushing the shell of your ear. “I'm not going to let you fall this time. I swear.”

You take a deep breath processing the words. could you really trust his promise? You feel his hands come back down to your waist and with the help of his hands exerting pressure, you jump up and he gracefully lifts you above his head. For an instant, you contemplate the city stretching out beneath your feet, like a blanket of light and shadow. Your arms spread like wings, and a spontaneous laugh escapes your lips as the wind caresses your skin. Gently, Sukuna lowers you to the ground once again and you watch a proud smile form on his face. 

Together, the two of you capture the sunset from the terrace, sharing that ephemeral moment in silent complicity.

When you finish practicing about three more times, you find yourself lying on the ground, breathing shakily as you watch the sky dotted with bright spots. Sukuna has disappeared inside his apartment, turning on the lights and returning with a bottle of water that he kindly offers you.

“Thank you,” you say, immediately popping the bottle into your mouth.

“You're not too bad,” Sukuna comments with his usual calmness, though beads of sweat on his forehead betray his exertion. It's obvious why he's Kurogawa's top student.

“I really mean it. Thank you.”

Sukuna averts his gaze for a moment before turning back to you. “Are you going to stay for dinner?” he asks instead.

“I'm fine...,” you reply, finally getting up from the floor and dusting off your clothes with your hands.

“I hope you're eating something better than soda and canned food at that stinky motel.”

You both share a knowing chuckle, your gazes intertwined for a moment.

“No promises,” you say, raising your hands to chest level. “But I have to go now. Thanks for everything, again,” you add, taking another long drink of water.

“Do you need a ride?” offers Sukuna.

“I'll get an uber.”

Sukuna nods, walking you to the door where he waves you off with a friendly smile.

What the hell was that all about? And why are you about to throw up your heart?

Sat. 4/14 • 6:32 pm — 

The second week training with Sukuna has been a revelation. You've gotten used to the smell of fish that you now find less unbearable, to getting up early before the alarm goes off, and you've even gotten used to the horrible oversized uniform you have to wear, but above all, you've gotten used to Sukuna's presence and his training sessions that bring you closer and closer together. Of course, you have improved remarkably. Sukuna is a born teacher and could surpass Kurogawa when he decides to retire. He knows just what to say to make you feel comfortable in your own skin and relax in his arms, which he has succeeded in doing. 

As you get to know him better, you realize that he is not the image you had created in your head. He is considerate and has managed to get you to open up to him a little more, tearing down the shell of animosity you had raised. Before, you were fighting a non-existent battle against him, a fight to be the best that now you only keep against yourself.

With the descent of disdain for him came something more.... Appreciation? Admiration, perhaps? You don't want to acknowledge what that emotion is. For now, you cling to the idea that you can be friends, that you could become good friends in time.

With the practices and the unofficial ones you do with your dance partner, your steps become more natural, loose and fluid. Soon, your movements will resemble those of the fantastic swan you are meant to emulate.

Sukuna spins you around with the climax of the violins resounding above you. Thanks to constant practice on his terrace he manages to lift you into the air with ease, getting you for the first time to not hesitate and leap gracefully into his arms which gets you a round of applause from your colleagues, drawing a proud smile on your face. Your chest is pounding, you feel the excitement in the darkness of the theater and, in a far corner, you can glimpse the ghost of your mother clapping proudly. You were really going to make it. 

Sukuna helps you touch the floor once more, and because of the intimacy required for the final scene, your faces are inches apart. The sound of muffled applause, the circular spotlight that focuses on you exclusively, and the scent of his cologne (a subtle blend of woody and citrus notes that awakens your senses), make the moment far more intimate than the scene requires.

Unsure if this is still part of the performance, Sukuna brushes the tip of his nose against yours before finally pulling away, leaving you drifting beside him and depriving you of his body heat. Slow clapping comes from the background in the gloom, and you walk away from Sukuna taking long strides as if you've been caught committing a crime, your hands sweaty and your stomach clenched.

“That was much better,” Kurogawa says, praising you both, though he looks directly at you. “A wonderful presentation.”

“Thank you,” Sukuna replies, and you feel him tense beside you as he holds the director's gaze that's still resting on you like a predator.

“Though you still have a lot of room for improvement,” Kurogawa says, looking straight at you. Your lips tighten into a straight line, feeling some disappointment in your chest.

“I think she's doing very well,” Sukuna interjects, looking Kurogawa up and down before exhaling like a raging bull. 

Kurogawa watches Sukuna and then clicks his tongue.

“Ryōmen, can you remind me who the director of the ballet is and who is recognized as the best male category ballet dancer in the entire country?” Sukuna falls silent, and you are unable to ignore his clenched jaw. “Sorry, I didn't hear you.”

Sukuna exhales and replies sarcastically. “You are, sir.”

“That's what I thought,” he replies, savoring the victory, still keeping his eyes on you. “So when I say something needs to get better, it's because it's going to get better. You can all go..., my little swan, you stay a few minutes with me, we need to talk.” 

Sukuna's eyes are pulled from the director to fall on you. Under the spotlight you notice his red eyes become darker, dark ink spills into them and at the same time his half closed eyelids give him the aura of a feline. You nod, assuring him wordlessly that you will be fine. 

The room gradually becomes empty, you are the only ones present. Kurogawa tucks himself back into the darkness while you stand under the burning light of the spotlight that seems to glow now brighter than ever. Suddenly, the sound of the piano climbs the walls again and makes your skin tingle. 

“Again,” he orders you. 

Immediately you put your back straight facing the theater seats. Your feet automatically tiptoe, your arms move in the air, move up your body and stop above your head. Your movements are much more fluid and you can feel it; you are more flexible than before or maybe you always have been and all you needed was a little push. A vote of confidence. 

The thought that you will have your little ritual with Sukuna tomorrow (he cooks for you after you help him deliver the fish and after your practice), puts a smile on your face and helps you relax, ignoring the presence of Kurogawa who follows you with his sharp eyes every time you move.

The clacking of his shoe heels tells you he's getting closer, and a subtle sense of dread comes over you as you wonder what Kurogawa might be thinking or planning.

“Are you two dating?” He asks suddenly, wrapping his hands around you behind your back in imitation of the role Sukuna plays. 

"I don't have to justify my personal life, sir." Your reply is quick and sharp, cutting through the awkward tension. 

He laughs dryly. “Because that would be a problem. I wouldn't allow my lead dancers to have an affair, that would be problematic.” He steps closer to you undoing the space between you and grabs your waist from behind, you instantly pull away looking at him with your eyebrows together. “Hold still.” He steps closer again, you take another step back, about to be engulfed by the darkness. 

“Sir...” 

He pauses under the spotlight, his few gray hairs and greasy locks gleaming in the direct brightness. The light highlights the deep lines of his face, accentuating his intense, commanding expression. His piercing gaze seems to cut through you as he calls out your name.

“Come here. Let me show you what you're doing wrong,” Kurogawa says in a tone that combines authority and criticism.

“I think I'm doing a good job,” you insist, trying to maintain your composure.

“Oh, you think Ryōmen is a better teacher than I am? He's been putting ideas into your head?” he asks wryly.

“I mean no disrespect, but...” you start to say, but you're interrupted.

“Girl,” he says with disdain, “Come here.”

“No,” you reply firmly, burying your feet on the stage. 

The director smiles mischievously. “The cat is showing her claws, I see,” he mutters. “You know he's no good for you?” he continues. “So if you're sentimentally involved...I'm afraid I'll have to degrade you both from being the lead dancers.”

You sense that his threats make you feel lightheaded. “You wouldn't do that,” you say with a hint of desperation.

“Be a good girl then.”

“We'll present in exactly two weeks, no one can take my place,” you defend yourself, looking for an excuse that will convince you more than him that he can't do this. 

“Mei-Ling is ready. We've been... practicing,” he says with a lopsided grin that makes you cringe.

“You're disgusting,” you reproach him, unable to keep pretending that standing here in front of him listening to his innuendos doesn't have your body chilling. 

“You have no idea,” Kurogawa replies, widening a mischievous smile. “Now...”

He approaches you with clear intentions of touching you, you look around for something you can defend yourself with or someone who can come to your aid but the room was empty, there was only you there. You keep shuffling your feet until you run into the wall, until the darkness has covered you both and all you can see is his macabre smile. 

Kurogawa reaches out to grab you when Sukuna's voice startles you. He says your name for the first time and you look over the director's shoulder to see him on the other end in casual gray joggers and a white t-shirt. “Is everything okay?” he asks looking directly into your eyes and for a moment it's just the two of you. 

Your voice breaks and you can't answer him, but your desperate look tells him everything he needs to know. 

“This is private training, Ryōmen. You may leave now.” 

Still he pays no heed. He advances towards you with the bag where he kept his clothes hanging from his left shoulder, sukuna stops and plants himself next to you; his arms embrace your shoulders and he sticks you to his body. “Do you wanna leave?” He asks, looking up at you directly. 

“Yes.” You reply without hesitation or pausing to look at the director. 

“Ow look at that? Isn't that romantic?” he laughs dryly, clapping his hands together sarcastically. “Long live lovers, right? From hate to love is only one step, I guess.” 

Sukuna ignores Kurogawa's words, removing his hand from your shoulders to take yours and lead you away. Surprise flashes across your face, but his warm grip turns the initial coldness into a comforting sensation, making your heart race in your chest. You don't resist and squeeze his fingers tightly as you pull away.

The man laughs louder again, turning to look at you just as you reach the small stairs that would lead you off the stage. “Don't even bother coming back, you're fired,” he shouts arrogantly.

You search Sukuna's eyes to make sure he's feeling the same fear you are. For a moment, doubt crosses your eyes and you consider turning around and apologizing as the only option in this situation. But Sukuna avoids your gaze, releasing your hand to address the director.

“If you have something to say, say it now,” Kurogawa spits with a triumphant smile on his face.

Sukuna climbs the stairs again, leaving you paralyzed in the middle of the steps. His movements seem more imposing under the contrasting lights, and as he approaches the principal, you can see Kurogawa's smile widen in pleasure.

Sukuna takes a deep breath, running a hand through his pink hair to pull it back before turning and connecting a closed fist against the director's jaw. Kurogawa falls to the ground, coughing and wiping blood from a split lip. There is hatred and resentment in his eyes as the two men stare at each other for a moment, right before Kurogawa spits out blood mixed with saliva that was pooled in his mouth.

In that moment of tense silence, you stand watching in horror, both hands covering your mouth. Sukuna spits towards the ground and then turns away, wiping his hand and knuckles. He walks past you and with a hand on your lower back, guides you out of there.

“Let's get the hell out of here,” Sukuna mutters.

“Are we just...?” you try to say, but Sukuna interrupts you.

“Are you okay?” he asks with concern. You nod, unable to say much more. “That's all I care about,” Sukuna concludes as you walk away from the place.

You didn't want to go back to the motel. With your dreams crushed so easily in front of you, the last thing you want is to be alone with your self-destructive thoughts and a judgmental memory. The director always seemed a little strange to you and now you tag the way he approaches you as unprofessional but you never thought he could go to the extreme of cornering you like that; however, seeing him lying on the floor, bleeding, brings accusatory thoughts into your head that you want to erase. Your memories betray you showing you more blood than there really was. In his eyes was written pure revenge, you knew that with his influence only one mail was enough to destroy both your career and your life. You don't want to think about the consequences of your actions; at least not tonight, not now. So when Sukuna asks where you want to go and you reply that you don't know, he decides to take matters into his own hands and take you on a bike ride around the city. Neither says anything else and you ask no questions, letting the vibrations of the engine and his body under your fingers make you feel safe.

Your cheek is crushed against his broad back, clinging to his waist as much as you can as you watch the lights of the city and its tall buildings go by like flashes. People come and go and your heart sinks a little in your chest each time Sukuna's fingers roll easily across the throttle. Water pools in your heavy eyelashes and you can't decide if it's from the wind or if it's just sadness and the pile of bitter disappointment you force yourself to swallow.

Sukuna stops at a gas station, you wait leaning against the bike while he pays and buys some sweets that he silently passes to you as an offering. You open the colorful wrapper and pop the chocolate into your mouth, chewing silently as you are distracted by the dust clinging to his boots.

“Do you wanna go to my place?” The question surprises you and his voice invites you to look at him, back to the present. You notice his face and are distracted by the soft pout that forms his lips unconsciously. In the short time you've known each other, you've noticed it's something he does often. A habit.

You assume that you are friends now. You find the situation and the question ironic. If an oracle had told you about eight months ago that you'd be taking bike rides with Sukuna, clinging to his back like a baby koala bear, driving with him every day out of town while jamming karaoke in his fish-smelling truck and hanging out at his apartment, you'd never have believed it. 

Finally, you shake your head in affirmation, taking another bite of the bar.

“I hate that motel,” you confess, covering your mouth.

“I know. It smells like a shoe, I don't know how you can live there.”

You regret letting him into your humble room. Everything was tidy and perfectly sprayed with that green apple spray you depend on so much now, but you still saw him pinching his nose with two fingers and commenting on the stench. You'd complained before, of course, and the owner told you he'd move you to another room as soon as it became available, but now that was the only one you could be in; the room is at the back, next to the laundry room and the damp lurks through the walls, ending up sitting in the middle of your floor.

“Hey!” It really did smell awful, but it wasn't funny when others made fun of it. “It's all I can afford for now. Sorry I'm not rich like you.”

“I thought you were rich,” he says, playing with his bruised knuckles as the numbers on the screen behind him keep going up.

“Not anymore,” you confess, distant memories of your life coming back to you in a flash. “My father refuses to help me with academy expenses, he sees it as a waste of money and time, and I guess he's right. I only have enough to live for two more months there, I was looking forward to the ballet performance but now…” Your voice trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

You notice how he leans over to gently tap you on the shoulder with the same hand that punched Kurogawa earlier.

“We're going to fix it, brat. No long faces while I'm around.”

You contemplate him a while longer in silence as you finish eating the chocolate bar and clench the wrapper in your fist to throw it in the trash when you're at his apartment. Once the tank is full, you roll back down the road and seven minutes later you are in the warmth of his apartment.

You take off your shoes as you enter and head straight to the living room after Sukuna asks you to sit down and he goes straight to the kitchen. You take the opportunity to look at the various photographs on the bluish wall that you have always wanted to see up close but he has never let you: a small Sukuna clutching a baseball bat smiles at the camera, his hair tousled as if it's been a windy day, and his hands tightly wrapped around the bat. There's another where he's with who you assume is his grandfather in front of the restaurant near the academy, clutching a fish that's bigger than both of them which makes you chuckle under your breath. In the last one, there's him and another boy who looks very like him, both wearing thick coats with faux fur edges and looking at the camera with surprised expressions.

“Your brother?” you ask as you hear his bare feet moving across the floor and, turning to face him, you find him with two plates full of sushi rolls in his hands. “Thank you,” you smile at him, sliding onto the couch.

“Be careful not to drip the sauce on my couch, brat,” he jokes. You want to complain about the not-so-pleasant name he calls you by, but you keep silent, hiding the sense of longing that overwhelms you as you want to hear him say your name again. “And my nephew,” he quickly points to the picture before disappearing back into the kitchen. “It was the first time we went to New York.”

You take another quick glance at the picture and grab the wooden chopsticks next to your plate.

“Nephew... So you have siblings?” You ponder, pinching a sushi roll between your chopsticks and bringing it to your mouth, careful at all times not to drop anything on the couch. For how neat the place looks, you know he's not kidding when he warns you that he doesn't want any stains on his couch.

Sukuna returns with a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands, as he carefully sets them on the coffee table.

“I'm not going to drink,” you quickly excuse yourself.

“Come on, let's celebrate that we don't have practice tomorrow.”

His humor helps you cope a little. You press your lips together in a straight line that gradually turns into a sad smile and finally nod, giving your permission for him to pour the white wine for both of you. You grab the glass without further thought and take a long drink, closing your eyes for a moment.

“And... um,” he clears his throat, taking a seat next to you to get ready to eat as well. “I had a brother. I lost him and my parents in an accident when they were on their way from Kyoto to see me dance last year.”

The news makes you frown and you set the cup aside immediately, showing your concern. Sukuna seems immune; anyone who didn't know him would say he's over it, that he doesn't care, but you've learned to see past the mask he usually shows himself to others with. Hesitantly, you put your hand on his leg in comfort and something inside you waits for him to push it away, only it never happens. He looks down at your touch for a moment before returning to your eyes.

“I'm so sorry.”

His shoulders shrug and he finally relaxes. “At least I have my grandfather for now.”

You nod, understanding how bitter the situation is as it's easy to put yourself in his shoes.

“I'm really sorry. I lost my mother too; she had a medical condition that had no cure. Her dream was always to see me dance at a professional academy.”

“Is that why you traveled to Japan?” asks Sukuna before popping a sushi roll into his mouth.

“Yeah. But I guess it doesn't matter now.”

“I told you we're going to fix it,” Sukuna says and now it is him placing his hand on your thigh intimately. You watch as his fingers spread over your skin, noticing the veins running down the back of his hand and the thick tattoos surrounding his skin.

“You punched him in the face,” you look away from his fingers to force yourself to look him in the eyes, both of you sharing a brief chuckle. “How can we fix this?”

Sukuna is no longer touching you and his absence is immediately felt.

“We can report him,” he suggests.

“They won't listen to us,” you reply.

“Not with that attitude.”

You look away from him for a moment, toward your plate and the half-empty cup. You grab it and raise it to your mouth to wet your throat.

“Thank you... for everything,” you say sincerely, swirling the glass so that the liquid spirals against the glass.

“I should never have left you alone,” Sukuna admits.

“But you came back for me. That's the important thing,” you reply, restraining yourself from touching him again. Instead, you take a last sip of wine that serves to drown out thoughts of what would have happened if no one had arrived in time.

With banal conversations filling the space from time to time and laughter over jokes that aren't even that funny; you both finish eating.

With two glasses of wine drunk and now Sukuna pouring a third everything seems funnier than usual. The sting of the pain of having lost everything you've built is buried there waiting to make you ache and although you know Sukuna feels it too, he manages to disguise it very well, spending all his energies on making your night.

“Stop it,” you tell him with a laugh, squinting to fix your eyes closely on his face. “You've got something there.” You point to a part of your own cheek with a finger, smoothing the skin and wiggling your fingers for him to do the same.

“Where?” he asks, pulling his eyebrows together, touching the wrong part of his face.

“Look, here!” you point to your cheek again with more emphasis, but he still misses.

“Wipe it off for me. What is it?”

“It's just soy sauce, you messed it up more.”

You lean a little closer to wipe the sauce stain next to his nose, carefully rubbing the skin by moving your thumb over it until it's clean. You smile at him, you just need to wash your face now, as you turn your attention back to him you realize he is blatantly looking at your lips.

“Later,” he says softly, licking his lips slowly and alarms go off in your brain.

“It'll get sticky if you don't go,” you reply mimicking his tone, struggling not to notice his mouth and how close you are.

Sukuna slowly makes himself move his gaze from your mouth to your eyes. Still close, you can notice the alcohol on his breath, his scent of cologne tickling your stomach.

“I never understood why you disliked me so much,” he blurts out suddenly, almost in a whisper.

“Are you serious?” you pull away before you do something you shouldn't, the tingling sensation of alcohol probably making you see things that aren't there. “Everything you talked about me?” He arches an eyebrow, showing confusion. “You were saying I should go back to my country...”

“Yeah, because you were saying I had no talent. And who did you think you were?” he defends himself, getting defensive. With that expression that he instantly erases almost makes you remember the Sukuna from the past.

“I never said that.” You defend yourself.

Silently, you both let the weight of realization sink in, sharing a silent stare.

“Kurogawa.” You respond in unison.

“Fuck him,” Sukuna says through gritted teeth. You want to reproach him, but honestly?

“Yeah, fuck him.” Then you both laugh.

Silence reigns between you again, squeezing like an intruder between the little space that separates your bodies on the couch. 

“Are you staying the night?” Sukuna suddenly blurts out, giving you a sideways glance.

“Um, no?” That makes him look at you completely, analyzing you as if you've just said something barbaric.

“I can't ride like this,” he comments with obviousness.

“That's fine, I'll get an uber.”

“I don't trust an uber to send you like that.”

You don't trust yourself around him, you don't trust what your numb senses can do or say, so the farther away you are from him, the better it is for both of you.

“Like what? I'm almost sober,” you say, squeezing a space with your index finger and thumb leaving a small gap in between. “Besides... I know how to defend myself.” To reaffirm your sentence and validate your sobriety, you stand up to take a brief turn but fate is ironic and trips you over your own feet; in an instant your mouth is about to kiss the ground. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, preparing to receive a stinging pain that never comes, instead, you are welcomed into an embrace that fills you with security.

“Fuck. You're so drunk,” Sukuna says with a laugh, helping you to your feet.

You open one eye. “Sorry, I don't usually drink.” You close it again, massaging with your fingers the sudden dizziness that squeezes your temples. “Maybe I am a little dizzy.”

“I can tell that,” he says. “You should have told me.”

“Um, I did.” You open your eyes now realizing how intimate you are. Your open palms on his chest rise and fall with his agitated exhale and the tension weighs heavy. His hands are on your lower back in a sort of embrace that holds you close to him and keeps you from running away, and you wouldn't even if you could. You hear your own breathing quicken in your ears, and without thinking, you lean in to kiss him but Sukuna lifts his chin avoiding you and kissing your forehead instead.

“Come on, I'll take you to bed.”

Sat. 4/15 • -:- am— 

You wake up with a slight headache pulsing in your temples and the sharp spicy smell of a perfume you don't recognize as your own. Still with your eyes closed, you turn your body to reach for the phone on the bedside table, you stretch your fingers in search of it, but your hands can't seem to find the nightstand, so you struggle to blink slowly and finally open your eyes completely. The unusual darkness confuses you a bit and makes you wonder what time it is; the sun should be penetrating the motel windows intensely at this hour, so you curiously sit up in bed. You look for your phone under the pillow, between the sheets and in every nook and cranny your hands can reach on the mattress.

It is at that moment when you notice the different color of the sheets and the four pillows around you, making you realize that this is not your bed, nor is this your room. Looking at your legs you realize that you are still dressed in last night's clothes, then you remember Sukuna. Your eyes scan the room in the absence of light — were you in his room or maybe he had another guest room? You pull the sheet off your legs and head to the window to open the black curtains and let the sun finish waking you up.

The lively view of the city greets you from below, cars come and go on the fast moving highway. With the help of the light now illuminating every corner, you take another look at the room and find out that this was probably his: the space is spacious and modern, following the same style as the living room with a minimalist decoration. The walls are a light gray and in front of the bed there is an elegant glass desk with an office chair. On top of the desk, there is a closed laptop and some tidy papers. 

The bed is bigger than the one in the motel and is covered with black sheets, next to it a closet with the doors made of a mirror in which you see yourself perfectly reflected, you try to fix your hair as much as you can in case you find him when you go out looking for your phone, but by the prevailing silence makes you aware that Sukuna was probably not at home. 

You find your phone on the floor near the couch. At the memory that it must have slipped out of your pocket when you almost fell last night just to then try to kiss Sukuna, your body burns with embarrassment. Unlocking the screen and looking at the time you find a message from Sukuna and missed calls from your father and group of friends. Shit, you totally forgot them.

R. SUKUNA: If you wake up and I'm not here, take a shower, there are headache pills in the desk drawer and eat something. If you decide to take a bath, use something from my closet. I'm visiting my grandpa, I'll be back in about an hour. :)

Checking the time, you realize that the message was sent half an hour ago so you still had time to be alone and clear your thoughts before he returned. After how absurd you acted last night, you don't want to see him today, not in a few weeks maybe. You don't have the courage to look him in the face, especially after he walked away, making it clear to you where he stood with you.

You return to the room with the phone in your hand and a glass of water you quickly grabbed from the kitchen. You open the first drawer and search for the pills you need stumbling upon some personal items, including two small square wrappers of different texture and metallic blue color. Before an unwanted idea can germinate in your mind, you push the condoms aside and take the pill, drinking every last drop from the glass.

You are determined to leave and escape from him, but the sweat from the previous day clings to your body and you refuse to go out like this. You quickly duck into the familiar bathroom and take a quick shower without getting your hair wet this time, opting only to pull it up in a simple bun and wear the same clothes from the day before. You exit the bathroom determined to take refuge in the motel, walking straight to the front door.

“Good morning.” His voice makes you yelp. You put one hand on your chest and one on your mouth, looking him up and down as if you've seen a ghost, and he has the audacity to laugh.

Sukuna looks fresh, as if he's had a good night's sleep and just got out of the shower. He's wearing a light blue short-sleeved sweater and black sweatpants; the baseball cap covering part of his face makes him look much younger.

“Did you sleep well?” Sukuna speaks again and you hope he didn't notice you looking him up and down.

“Yes, thank you. I had a bit of a headache, but I'm better now. we...?” We sleep together. It's the sentence you don't get to finish.

“The couch is more comfortable than it looks.” He gives you another brief grin and your heart flips.

“I'm so sorry about yesterday.”

You both know what you mean, so neither of you decides to delve into it. He downplays it with a wave of his hand, and you appreciate his friendship now more than ever, so you let that memory die.

“You were drunk...” he excuses you before you have a chance to. 

“Of course, I never...” you stop, unable to finish the sentence.

“I know.”

“How's your grandfather?” you ask him, quickly changing the subject, struggling not to notice the tattoo peeking through the opening near his neck.

“He's much better, actually.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” you say sincerely, forcing yourself to swallow the guilt that's weighing you down inside. He's showing his most vulnerable side with you, and all you can think about is how much you want to kiss his neck.

“There's just one little problem.”

Your eyes narrow and you take a step forward, paying more attention this time. “What's wrong?” you inquire with genuine concern.

“He wants to meet my girlfriend.”

"Oh." You blink slowly, your lips opening and closing as you choose your next words carefully. “You have a girlfriend.” It's a statement. Of course he has a girlfriend. 

“That's where you come in.”

“Excuse me?”

“He always insists that he doesn't like me being alone, that I should focus on other things than taking care of him and the restaurant. To put his mind at ease, I told him I have a girlfriend, I just didn't count on him asking me to meet her. I can only rely on you for that.”

You're flattered, but it's still not enough to hide the fact: “So you lied to him.” You ponder, processing all the information he's blurted out to you.

“Um, no. I'm going to get one, just not now. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep him with me and I didn't want to disappoint him.”

You nod slowly. “So, you want us to go visit him?”

“Yes, just once or twice.”

“And for me to act like I'm your girlfriend?”

“Yup.”

You sigh deeply, you massage your eyes with the palm of your hand trying to run away at least for a second from his presence and the effect he has on you; you don't want to keep looking at him and keep thinking about what he is making you feel inside because, what was all that? Sukuna was. your. friend. Why couldn't your hormones understand that and why did you suddenly feel like you would burst if he ever touched you? You finally open your eyes, nod.

“Yeah, okay. I'll help you.”

You don't think about the implications of this, you don't think about the fact that pretending to be his girlfriend makes your heart gallop fast against your ribs when it shouldn't. This is nothing more than an act of good faith, you're just helping a friend. You refuse to consider that you might have to hold his hand, and even the idea of having to kiss him is possible in some scenario.

It's the first time in years that you realize you don't remember the last time you kissed someone. You've been so focused on working, improving and becoming a better dancer every day that you don't remember the last time you had romantic or sexual contact with someone, and you're definitely not ready for Sukuna to be your first.

“I have to go now.”

You have a lot to process.

“Stay for breakfast,” he suggests with that lopsided grimace of his, the one where he doesn't show his teeth but could make you sign a deal with the devil if he wanted to. You have to grip your bag tighter so you don't reach out and touch the inky flash that winks at you again.

“See you later!” you say instead, running for the door.

You don't stop to wait for an answer because you know he would change your mind because that's what he always does (get his way), make you stay and confuse you even more. You pull out your phone and call for an Uber back to the discomfort of your bed, where you can be away from the effect he has on you.

Thurs. 5/10 • 

Meeting Hiroshi in person after hearing so much about him makes you feel like you've already known him for a long time. The smile spreads on his face like ink on water when he sees you, and it's already second nature for him to call you “daughter” as he grabs your hand and cheeks affectionately; he really likes you and you like him back.

Accompanied by Sukuna holding your hand, you always bring him flowers or fruits and listen attentively as Sukuna reads to him and tells him how business is going at the restaurant, while he nods. In a way, he reminds you of your own grandfather; a man just as sweet and hardworking. Seeing this new side of Sukuna is certainly different and addictive. The patient way he talks to his grandfather makes you look at him with admiring eyes; he seems like a totally different man. You have been accompanying him for the last three visits and seeing him spending so much time with his grandfather is becoming a regular habit.

On one of these visits you bump into someone you had seen before in one of the photographs he has hanging in his apartment. Yuuji, much older, much more adult, smiles at you and has the same cheerful expression as his grandfather; he is a boy full of energy who squeezes your hand and shakes it energetically the first time you meet him. He looks a lot like Sukuna and it is impossible for you not to make the internal comparison of how different they are despite being so physically similar. 

On Monday after visiting Hiroshi, exchanging the flowers for new ones and making sure he was enjoying his favorite meal, Yuuji, who was already at the hospital when you got there, invites you over for dinner as a sweet gesture to get to know you better.

The restaurant a few blocks away from the hospital is crowded with people, brimming with a cozy, family atmosphere with polished wooden tables and delicate white tablecloths. The soft murmur of family conversations intermingles with the tantalizing aroma of dishes wafting from the kitchen and traditional music in the background.

“I never thought I'd see Uncle Sukuna with a girlfriend,” Yuuji confesses as he rolls noodles on his chopsticks and brings them to his mouth.

“Hey,” Sukuna growls, finishing the sake in one gulp. “Don't disrespect your uncle.”

“It's not that,” Yuuji laughs.“It's just that you're always so secretive, and after what happened with Dad... but I'm happy for both of you.”He looks at you briefly now as he shakes his head slowly.

Your body twitches softly at the surprise of feeling Sukuna curling his fingers with yours on top of the table. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, and butterflies flutter inside you at the sight of this affectionate gesture, though you quickly remember that it's all part of the act. Getting caught up in the moment and excusing yourself to your inner judge, you gently squeeze his hand, reminding yourself to maintain the role of girlfriend.

As you enjoy dinner, you and Sukuna chat animatedly, sharing anecdotes about Hiroshi, the origin of the restaurant's peculiar name, and Yuuji's antics as a child. The vibe in the restaurant is permeated with warmth and energy, with the bustle of the other tables and the comforting aroma of ramen wafting through the air.

At the end of the meal, Yuuji bids the two of you goodbye with a hug, explaining that he must go elsewhere but that he hopes you will have a second date together.

As soon as he makes sure Yuuji has left the restaurant, Sukuna looks at you with a soft smile. “Thank you for joining me tonight. I know this isn't part of your commitment as a 'fake girlfriend'.”

You smile back, still feeling the warmth of his finger on your skin. “Thank you for letting me meet your grandpa, he's an amazing person, and your nephew is really adorable.”

Sukuna nods, his eyes shining with something you can't decipher. “I know Yuuji really likes you too. I think he likes you more than me.”

You giggle softly, recognizing that this encounter has brought you closer to Sukuna. Meeting one of the most important pillars of his life, along with his nephew, who is practically the only close family he has left, makes you feel lucky to be able to witness this more intimate side of him. You just hope that, when all is said and done and they both realize that you're just his friend they'll still continue to accept you and treat you with the affection that has characterized them so far.

“Maybe I should go back to the motel. It's getting late,” you say, bursting the bubble that had enveloped you out of reality. Being away from him was the last thing you wanted right now, but you needed to remind yourself from time to time that this was not part of your current life.

At that moment, he gently withdraws his fingers from yours and nods with a tense line on his lips.

“Sure. Join me for a smoke first.”

After paying the bill and leaving the restaurant, you both walk to the back with Sukuna gently tugging on your hand, still engaged in an act that should only happen when Yuuji or his grandfather are around. Surrounding you, a few people congregate to talk and share a cigarette.

Sukuna brings the cigarette to his mouth and you help him shield it with your hands as he tilts his head slightly to avoid the wind. The cigarette lights up as he inhales and exhales slowly through his nose, keeping his gaze fixed on you the whole time. He is leaning against the wall and you are close by, standing between his spread legs.

“I'll probably have to go home soon..., my real home, I mean,” you tell him suddenly, preferring to watch the people walking in and out of the parking lot instead of paying attention to him.

“Is it the money?”

You nod still without glancing at him. “I can't wait for it to be over, I already talked to my dad and he also thinks it's for the best.”

Sukuna is silent as he takes another puff and exhales just in time for when you turn back to look at him.

“I've been requesting a recommendation letter for you for another academy. I filed an official report against Kurogawa and we have witnesses, people who had made accusations before but had never filed an official report.”

His name brings back bitter memories that dissolve in the smoke and stale smell of the cigarette.

“I'm going to testify too.” Your voice surprises you as much as it seems to surprise Sukuna, who looks you up and down with curious eyes.

“Fine. I'll be with you.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“I wanted to be sure, I didn't want to get your hopes up.” His eyes turn soft and you can see in them the same shadow that was in them that time in his apartment. He was looking at your lips just like now and he didn't seem to mind hiding it. “You look beautiful, by the way. Yuuji kept looking at you.”

You smile, glancing down at the teal dress you decided to wear that night.

“You don't look bad yourself,” you tell him, touching your fingertips to the oversized wool coat he was wearing. Sukuna follows your fingers as they stumble over the black buttons and away from his body. His eyes follow your hands that stay still on either side of your body and then they return to your face, momentarily checking your mouth.

“Wanna try?” he asks, raising the cigarette to your eye level.

“I've never smoked,” you confess.

“That wasn't my question.” He bites his lip, followed by the tip of his pink tongue moistening his lower lip gently. “You want me to guide you?”

“...Yes.”

“Open your mouth,” his voice comes out quick, eager and sharp almost like yours. His words guide you as you part your lips just enough for him to place the cigarette between them. But instead, Sukuna pulls you closer into him gently squeezing your waist as he exhales smoke into your half-open lips. “Swallow a little bit and then exhale,” he gently commands you. “Don't let it go down your throat.”

You follow his instructions without complaint, holding the smoke for a moment in your mouth before releasing it. The taste of ash floods your palate for a moment, a smell you find unbearable and yet.... “More,” you find yourself asking, rising on tiptoe to reach for the cigarette yourself.

You're sure you're not asking for more of the cigarette, you're asking for more of him. Of the brief touch you get from his unfriendly hands on your body, more of his perfume lulling your senses, more of his closeness. 

His fingers leave your lower back to climb up to your jaw keeping you steady, still and trapped as he exhales a second puff between your parted lips. Your heart flips but you manage to repeat the action of inhaling and exhaling without coughing, and as he prepares to do it a third time without you asking, your noses collide in the darkness of your closed eyes; his lips brush yours for an electric instant, and you feel his fingers clinging tighter to your jaw: breathing out. 

“My God...you,” you stand still, feeling yourself burn inside as his warm breath seeps into you once more. “If you don't stop me, I will do something I will regret.” His words are a threat brushing your tongue. 

Your foreheads meet and rest against each other, fingers guided by desire slipping under his coat where you cling to his shirt ruffling the fabric. You close your eyes waiting to feel him, that first real contact, charged with sparkle and fireworks. You tilt your neck back, giving him the access he needs to take you.

“I'm not going to stop you,” you gasp, pushing closer.

Sukuna growls like an animal, immediately replacing his grip with his lips on your jaw; barely perceptibly grazing the flesh and bringing tickles to your insides. Then he moves slowly up to your ear, outlining the jaw bone with his mouth and staying still behind the shell of your ear, simply breathing warm air.

“We're in public,” he reminds you, and you squeeze your eyes shut. Charged with a bravery that is uncharacteristic of you, you reach your hand toward his crotch, feeling the bulge that is evident through his pants.

“Then let's go somewhere more private.”

Sukuna grunts once more, hunching towards you in such a way that it appears as if he is hugging you. His hands slide down your back until they reach your ass and squeeze it, the people around you startle you but the feeling lasts a moment before you turn your attention back to him and the plea that seems to spill from his throat. 

“What have you done to me?” he utters your name as if you were a divine being and he is a mere servant. Your hand, gaining confidence, presses harder on his erection. “I want to slowly peel off your clothes, worship every inch of your body. Kiss every spot, every mole.”

He abandons the comfort of your ear to move to your neck, where you sense his breath as he subtly pushes his hips against your open palm. It's embarrassing to be doing this in public. His coat and the shadows of the night help hide the scene, but if someone were to discover you, you could get in trouble.

“Tell me you need it too,” he whispers against your throat on the verge of losing his temper and pressing his nose, his eager mouth clinging to your skin; sucking. “Tell me you feel the fire in your chest too,” he gasps, his teeth grazing a little harder.

“Fuck. I feel it. I've wanted to say it for a long time, but I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same,” you lick your lips. “That night when I tried to kiss you...”

“You were drunk,” he interrupts you. “I didn't want you to regret it the next day.” Sukuna reluctantly pulls away to admire you with dilated pupils and parted lips. “But you have no idea how much I've had to restrain myself to act just like a friend.” He examines you up and down. “Let's go to my apartment.”

Holding hands and with feelings running high, you move quickly into the parking lot to find the bike parked a few feet from where you were. Sukuna just lets you go to put the helmet around your head and then proceeds to put his on and without another thought you set off on the road. The cool night air immediately envelops you, the edge of your dress flaps against your thighs thanks to the speed at how fast he was going, almost as quickly as your heart beats in your chest. For you, there's a mixture of excitement and nervousness, a sense of disbelief mixed with anticipation. You can't stop thinking about what just happened, what you've wanted to occur for months and what might happen now.

The drive back to his apartment is fraught with sexual tension. The speed, the wind in your faces and the physical proximity keeps you on edge, your fingers run up and down his chest under his coat, impatient up and down patterns reminding him how close you are. 

As you reach the apartment the palpable excitement between you and Sukuna intensifies. You both quickly slide off the bike, and holding hands take the elevator to his floor. Neither of you say anything until you reach the quiet of his place, interrupted by the hitching of breaths.

Sukuna steps forward and sits on the couch that is now so familiar to you, his eager but controlled expression blurring in the gloom that dances in the living room. From there, he calls your name softly, his voice laden with restrained emotion. The atmosphere in the apartment seems charged with electricity as you approach him, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you get closer, Sukuna watches you carefully, his eyes roaming over every part of you with admiration and desire. 

“Take off your dress,” he says hoarse with lust.  

Without thinking you grab the edge of the dress, slip it over your head and pull it aside to be left with only the underwear you have chosen for the night. As you move forward and are finally in the middle of his spread knees Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you to sit on his lap. The grip on your hips firms and hardens, he takes it upon himself to rub your covered core against the wideness of his thigh and short moans of pleasure take over your mouth.

“Keep riding my thigh. Slowly. Feel that pussy get wet for me, feel it ache,” he indicates, releasing your hips to then worship your thighs up and down. 

Oh. It was aching, you want to tell him. Everything inside you was doing it, burning with need every muscle, every vein. Your legs from the posture, your pussy from need and your tight belly begging for a release but instead you stand quietly contemplating with your mouth open the way, after removing his coat, he undresses the buttons of the sweater one by one finally satiating your curiosity by revealing the tattoo underneath. 

More black marks. They draw you in and invite you to touch them, thick ink-filled lines that you trace under your fingers start at his chest, cross between the line that joins his shoulder and neck and disappear behind along his back. Puzzled you stare at him some more, losing yourself in his eyes as you rise to look at him; he looks still, pleased that you are touching him as if he were art. 

“Did they hurt?” you wonder with a bit of naiveté. 

Sukuna cradles your breasts gently above the fabric of your bra, he seizes the moment to tug on your nipples hard, getting you to moan. 

“They hurt a lot,” he confesses quietly, in a low tone of voice that plays it down. 

You continue tracing the canvas that is his skin, moving down his abdomen until you stumble upon the belt that holds his pants in place. Briefly you check his eyes, hoping they tell you something more than the lust that seems to flood them.

“Why did you decide to get tattooed then?” 

Sukuna catches your gaze silently, his fingers snaking around your belly, walking up to stop in the middle of your thighs and through your panties he strokes your clit with three fingers. 

“We all have to endure a little pain sometimes, don't we?” 

It feels so intimate the way he talks to you, the way he looks at you. When he roams your body with his gaze you can't help but feel small. You rub against his fingers, push and circle them helping him get to know your body better, listening to your broken gasps, showing him exactly where it makes you feel good. 

“I want to suck your cock,” you confess as you reach down to undo his belt. There was no shame binding you now, only a raw desire that longs to be unleashed. 

He smiles pleased with the change in attitude, and silently pushes your hips up to help you remove his pants leaving him alone in a pair of boxers which you soon pull down leaving them tangled midway down his thighs. Sukuna then pulls you off his lap and places you on the side of the couch where he instructs you to spread your legs for him thus getting easy access between your thighs. 

As Sukuna continues to give attention to your pussy, you contemplate how hard he is: more than big it was thick, with the tip of an angry pink throbbing just below your mouth. It had been years since you had last given oral sex to someone, your last few encounters were nothing more than a monotonous thrusting and pulling out where you ended up with the guy cumming on your lower back or stomach; you never felt like sucking their cock but with sukuna it's different. With him everything is. 

“It's been a long time since I've... you know,” you confess, holding back a nervous giggle. 

From below you raise your gaze to lace it to his eyes that receive you slightly closed, sharing a guilty smirk that he wipes away as he bites his lip. 

“You're doing a very good job,” he praises you. And his fingers tossing the edge of your panties aside leaves you breathless for a second, your lip quivering receiving his fingers inside you. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to, though.” 

His words cause you to twitch around two fingers pushing and massaging your pussy. So deep, so slow, he synchronizes his thrusts with the way your lips close around the head of his cock; his movements are precise as if he's searching for something inside you, in, out and then he pulls them all the way out to make you cum as he rubs your clit hard and talks dirty to you. 

Sukuna praises you sweetly as you sob his choked name against his thigh, his caresses surround your now sensitive clit and every time he touches it you find it impossible not to shudder. Then he grabs you by the face and kisses you on the forehead and holding your hand helps you up to guide you to his room that you already knew.

The lamps are off and the only light coming in is through the open window, the curtain ruffles softly in the cool spring breeze sending sudden chills down your bare skin. Sukuna instructs you to lie face down on the bed and you do so as he goes to another side of the room. The mirror you saw earlier shows you your half naked body under the swirling shadows and the masculine scent permeating his sheets makes you sigh deeply. 

The bed sinks with his weight, the mattress groans as he digs his knees into it and positions himself behind you, your ass rising almost without your permission, eager with anticipation. 

“You want to fuck me like this?” you throw your head back to catch him putting on the condom, one of the blue wrappers you saw before is now off to the side near your feet. 

“Fuck yeah. Just lay back, you work so hard...” He snaps, spitting on his wrapped cock and giving it a couple of strokes before spreading your ass cheeks apart. “You want it like this, want me to work to make you feel good?”

“Yes,” you sigh, watching every glimpse that the dim light allows you of his body in the big mirror. 

Slowly he sinks into you and you take it in with a deep moan. “That's it,” Sukuna murmurs, resting his hands on your lower back, initiating gentle thrusts that have your body rocking against the sheets.

Sometimes you feel him so deep you call his name, drunk with pleasure, you hope he understands you're begging him to keep going because you can't speak. Your mind is filled with him, his natural scent on the sheets, the smell of his sweaty perfume, his chest heavy against your back sinking you a little deeper into the mattress. 

“Do you want to fuck yourself a little on my cock?” He says, gently circling your neck with his fingers without actually exerting any real pressure, with his free hand he stimulates your clit and your back arches right away. “Push your ass back, that's it...” 

“I'm gonna cum...” you warn him, gasping with your mouth open, blinking rapidly so as not to lose sight of your bodies reflected in the mirror, fitting together perfectly as they do when dancing.

Your orgasm was still making you shiver the moment he turns you around so that you are facing each other. Sukuna is grinning showing you his sharp fangs, bringing your hands above your head and clasping his fingers between yours he starts fucking you again, your legs on his broad shoulders, his mouth just inches from you. 

“Hi,” he says giggling breathlessly and it catches you immediately. “You look so beautiful now, you look gorgeous when you cum for me...”

His thrusts become deeper, your skins echoing each time they meet. 

“Ryōmen...”

“I know, baby. I feel it too... Do you want me to cum inside?” You nod drunkenly with pleasure, unable to stop staring into those deep red eyes, his lashes fluttering and you notice his jaw tightening. “Yeah? You want to feel my thick load creaming that pussy?” he says, through clenched teeth.

“Yes, oh my god, please.” 

Your fingers run down your stomach and down between your thighs, your fingers graze your clit once giving you the final push you need to cum a third time. 

“Next time we'll do it raw, baby. I promise, but take it like this now, hm; cum for me.”

Your body tenses, your belly tightens in anticipation as Sukuna finally joins his lips with yours. The sensation is electric, as if a current of desire runs through every fiber of your being. Your lips meet in an eager, fiery kiss, where Sukuna sucks your tongue greedily and bites your lower lip with unbridled passion.

The intensity is almost obscene, each movement making you moan softly. Your legs tremble, but his weight on you only fuels the growing fire in your belly. Though your body aches in this position, you can't stop; the kiss is addictive, a whirlwind of sensations that far exceeds your deepest desires. It is far more than any subtle fantasy you have allowed yourself to imagine.

Sukuna leans closer, his hands caressing your face tenderly as his lips explore yours with passionate urgency. The room fills with the sound of your ragged breathing, swallowing each of the growls he lets die in your mouth. 

. . . Slowly he pulls out of you, then rushes to throw the condom away in a basket by the desk. Your aching body turns to admire his broad back and gaze at the ink stains on it in the poor light.

With a simple “I'll be right back,” he leaves you waiting naked between the sheets your fingers stretch to gather and tuck you in. Before you can allow feelings of guilt or doubt to arise, Sukuna returns to the bed with a bottle of water that he offers you to drink. You immediately bring it to your mouth as he lies down next to you, one hand behind his head and the other resting on his tummy. 

You snuggle close to him and Sukuna immediately wraps his arms around you, drawing you into his warm body.

“That was amazing,” you admit, as your fingers trace figures on his chest. However, Sukuna senses how you suddenly tense up.

“What's wrong?” he asks you with a frown.

“I was thinking about what's going to happen to us now,” you mutter, averting your gaze.

“I like you,” he says, as if it hasn't been clear until now. “I want you to be my girlfriend, for real this time,” you both chuckle lightly, and you raise your face to stare at him for a moment, a smile spreading across your lips.

“I like you too,” you admit with a hot face, surprised to admit it out loud; you never thought this moment would come, the odds of ending up in love with Sukuna were low, almost nil. And yet, here you are.

“Good. Then we have no more questions,” he leans in for a fleeting kiss on your lips, awakening a dormant volcano in your belly. “I have to go visit my grandfather tomorrow, do you wanna grab lunch when I'm done?”

“Is it okay if I come with you?”

“Of course. You know we love having you around,” he says, struggling to hold back another smile.

"Does that mean that if I'm your girlfriend now I won't have to help you lift the fish boxes anymore?" you joke, and he drops his head back laughing softly. You look at him in awe, you never thought you could like him any more than you already did, but having him like this, so close, so vulnerable, makes your heart race.

You want to kiss him again, to sit on his lap and take control this time, but you bite your lip instead, letting out a smile.

“You're definitely going to have to help me more at the restaurant now that you're my girl.”

My girl. You feel like you might burst.

“And what about my dad? I already told him I'd go back to my country.”

“Nah. I'm not going to let you get away so easily, you're mine now. You're exactly where you belong.”

And Sukuna was right. Here you feel good, safe, despite the struggles you will face you know you can get through it together. So you lean in and kiss him again, and again and again; you would have all night and many more because now you were his and he was yours.

Thank you for reading! reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated ♡

I don't do parts two! ⟡ I do not allow repost (do not translate or copy elsewhere), please do not recommend my work on tiktok.

[livelaughlovesubs]

I think despite how well he plays himself off all the time, Dazai still has depressive episodes sometimes when he's alone. Imagine coming home early and catching him in such a vulnerable state. Fuck him nice and sweet- show him how much you love him despite everything -🦀

Yk what, this will be the second part of that maid dazai fic. And I’ll make it sweet enough that you get a stomachache. Also- @amo-bsd

Part one!

Dom!reader x sub!dazai - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (can be read as a dick), teasing, praise kink, marking - hickeys, handjob, dacryphilia, role play, lingerie

“You want me to defile you?” A low voice so hypnotising it send shivers down his spine echoed through the room. His gaze showed absolut devotion, legs spread on the couch just the way you wanted. “…yes, please.” The brunette gasped, his left hand helping you hold his skirt up while his right one reached behind him. The way his chest heaved with each breath, lips trembling whenever he had to part them, made you go crazy about him. With a single tug, he opened the tie of his apron, making space for you. You rubbed his entrance again, gently tapping it. That was all it took to make him squirm and shut his eyes due to ecstasy. “Uh-uhHhm..!” Dazai whined through gritted teeth, the blush that was spreading across his cheeks intensified. His puffy hole kept clenching whenever you touched him, and loosening up once your digits leave.

“Look at how sensitive you are,” You commented while leaning closer towards him, face now inches away from his. “Ha-haah.. if you know then stop teasing me.” He tried to stand his ground, noticing you brought the end of his dress near him. Afterwards you uttered a single command, “Bite onto this.” Normally he would have talked back and made a scene, though for now he decided to be obedient. This surprised you a little, yet it wasn’t a bad feeling. Guess your dear lover can be good at times? Carefully, he bit the fabric, after a little while it was soaked with his saliva already. “Good boy.” You cooed when you saw this cute scene, kissing his forehead while your weaker hand slipped to his waist.

His brows were furrowed, eyes half lidded as he watched your demonstrations. Fingers leaving his bottom and now teasing his tip. A milky, sticky liquid stuck to the latex glove. The more you rubbed over his soaked panties, the darker the spot got. Now you were smirking sweetly, whispering playfully “you are getting so wet for me.” After you finished your sentence, you could swear more precum spurt out of his slit. Did that comment embarrass him? His tender and slim body trembled ever so slightly, eyes sparkling and begging you to do more. “How adorable.” You added, before licking his earlobe.

The boy jerked, hands clutching the dress to hold it up higher. Then he closed his eyes, clenching them tightly enough for a single tear to run down his cheek. Mind racing and heart pounding while your hand kept playing with his dick. “Hmm..hngh..” soft whimpers left him, and his eyes became watery, more tears were about to spill. Slowly you changed from his ear to his neck, kissing and sucking on multiple spots. Leaving a trail of marks behind. Only a few minutes later the red spots build, proof of your claim over him. The beautiful hickeys you left behind encouraged you to go further, the hand on his waist now slipped to his thighs. You rubbed his tip a little longer, until your fingers were coated with his precum entirely, then you moved on to his entrance again.

Soft and sweet moan filled the room, all muffled through a thin fabric. Your fingertips tapped his entrance again, the white fluid now stuck to his rim too. He gasped, watching you play with his body as you pleased. Then you said, “you are doing so well for me, my love,” while staring at him with loving eyes. Dazai didn’t know what to do in that situation, so he averted his gaze. You smirked at the sudden shyness from the male, before sticked a finger inside him. “Mhmm! Nghh.” He wines, eyes widening as he let out some more lewd noises. In the meantime you worked him open, a second finger followed soon. “So good for me, my pretty boy.” At the sound of that compliment, he dick twitched inside his panties. Why were your words so addicting? They were so sweet, it made him feel weird and warm. As if he was a small, weak and precious thing that deserved any of this. Though one question lingered in the back of his mind, was he truly deserving of this?

His tears finally spilled, hands quivering while pleasure coursed through him. Suddenly you raised his leg and brought it over your shoulder, grinning the entire time as you did that. The black laced thigh highs he wore were beyond attractive, enough to make you feel butterflies. “Y/n.. nHhh, mh- please..” he managed to breath out through gritted teeth. You just kept smiling while you rubbed your fingers against his soft and warm insides, admiring how beautiful he looked right now. “Ahh! Oh-ohhh..it feels good.” The brunette groaned and stopped biting the dress, but his hands were still holding it up. Instead of punishing him, you just let it be, you loved hearing him talk anyway.

Wet and lewd squelching sounds left whenever you trusted your fingers inside him, followed by a fierce jerk from the male. He’d arch his back and whine about wanting more. “So cute, I love you my dear.” You chuckled, before you took your fingers out. Sticky strings were connecting the glove to his insides. “Really adorable..” this time you muttered under your breath, staring at his vulnerable state with focused eyes. His lips shook, eyes half lidded, brows furrowed while a deep crimson blush spread across his features. Not to mention how perverted this position was. It exposed all of his shameful parts, as well as his most sensitive spots.

The way his thrust his hips indicated how he wanted more, a disappointed whine left him, a plead for more of this bliss he was feeling. His entrance clenched shut immediately, and the sticky liquid dripped down his tender skin. “You look so beautiful right now.” You praised him, and it made his dick twitch. Then you lined your own one up with his hole after finishing preparing everything, and pressed the tip against him. “Tell me if it hurts, alright?” Even though you whispered that into his ear, he couldn’t register most of your words. His eyes were glued to your length, anticipation filling him as he thought about taking you. Lips pressed shut and gaze eagerly waiting for you to fill him up. You also noticed how his rim kept loosening and clenching, as if his body was begging for you.

With a swift motion, you started putting it in. Only the tip alone was enough to make him into a mess, eyes rolling back as a storm of moans escaped his throat. “Ahh!! Ngh hmMM! Oh- y/N~moreee.. hahh, ple-please..!!” Dazai spout, spitting one nonsense after another. His tongue rolled out while you carefully bottomed out inside him. He tried his best to resist the urge to cum right there right now, especially after feeling it hit against his innermost parts. There was no helping it, it was just so deep inside him! You hugged him again, causing his leg to be raised to his chest. A dumbfounded look was on the boy’s face, and so you explained. “Lay back and enjoy this, alright?”

And you bet he did. When you started moving, all he could think about was you. He couldn’t move an inch while your member continued going in and out of him, so gently and slow, but hard enough to make him see stars. Each time you hit it against his sweet spot he’d cry out, panting and whimpering in delight. “Ah.. ah, uhhh, ahh, y/n- master..!” even now he is still calling you that, but you didn’t mind. After all, he was your good boy, your one and only love, your adorable pet. You kissed his lips, all while pounding inside him with a steady rhythm. Why was this so stimulating? Was what dazai thought. You weren’t being really fast or excessively rough, so why did it feel so damn good?

His heart felt like exploding whenever you calling him by some cute pet names, or even his own name. Sensations strong enough to wipe any thoughts off his mind kept gushing inside him, coursing through his veins and taking him to paradise. When you broke the kiss, he didn’t even notice how he chased after your lips. Still sobbing and crying while begging you for more, wanting to feel more of your touch, more of your voice, more of you. It was warm, it felt really hot inside him. There was no way to describe this other than lust, it must be because you are so skilled..! That’s why whenever you call him cute names he feels himself edging closer to the edge, that’s why your touch always ignites a fire within him, that’s why he always feels so happy when with you.

“Ahh.. I love you, y/nn..” he called out to you again, smiling sweetly while being held in your arms. “I really do..”

REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.7 K Warnings: ANGST! Use of the unforgivables, bIood, major and minor character dеath, major sad moments, mental breakdowns, taking characters to their breaking point, pain, griеf… I’m really sorry. Prompt: What happens when you hear something dreadful happening, will you stand up for what's right? Will you stay quiet for the greater good? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

A/N: This chapter is getting shadowbanned no matter what I change so please like, reblog and comment so it does not go under the radar.

Chapter 44: No One But You 

A hand above the water An angel reachin' for the sky Is it raining in Heaven? Do you want us to cry?

Where the hell is the alcohol in this party? You wondered as you stepped out of the room, dealing with Arkalis and Evan was more than enough for the rest of the night. If only you could find a corner, pull out a book and focus on that without being bothered by anything or anyone else, you’d be satisfied. Of course, that could not be the case, could it? 

“Well look who’s here?” Barty said with a smile as he blocked your path. 

“Oh, Barty!” you said as you tilted your head. “You should probably go look for Evan, he seemed like he needed… a friend.” 

Barty’s eyes seemed to burn when you spoke, but you stood your ground, even as he approached you with ferocity. He might be as tall as you were, even if younger, and he might have been able to overpower you in the past, but he was not about to make a scene in the middle of the party, he wasn’t dumb, he had never been. And clearly, he wasn’t important enough for the deatheater clique to be at the private dinner, he didn’t need unwanted attention. 

“If you did something to him again…” he said, voice low and threatening.

You blinked calmly at him, “Barty… in this party, you should be careful with the things that come out of your mouth.” He grabbed onto your wrist, anger clearly seething from him. “I didn’t touch him,” you said as you looked down at his hand and then back at his face, “I’d suggest you’d have the decency of doing the same.” 

Then you felt a hand on your shoulder, Barty finally let go of his hold on you but stayed in his place, glaring now at the person standing behind you. 

“And I would suggest you turn the fuck away before I hex you again. Remember where you are Crouch. This might be Arkalis’ dinner, but my father was the one to invite Tom here.” 

Barty gave you another look of hatred and then stormed off. You sighed and turned back to look at Regulus. 

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, eyebrows softly knit in concern.

“No,” you said as you shook your head and moved your hand a little bit, it was the same arm Evan had latched onto you earlier, but frankly, after having fallen from your broom, punched by bludgers, dragged by water spirits and scratched by werewolves, this felt like nothing. “Is there Firewhiskey here?”

“Firewhiskey?” Regulus asked in disbelief. “You want to drink?” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never sneaked out Firewhiskey from your father’s stash.” Regulus gave you a look in return that was answer enough. “So, you’ve never drunk?” 

He shook his head and you laughed at that, “Such a good boy,” you teased. In response, Regulus pushed you to the side, which only made you laugh a little more. “Let’s find some,” you said with a smile, Regulus tilted his head to the side disapprovingly. 

“It’s a terrible idea to do it here,” he responded. 

“Come on, Reg, there’s no way you want to see whatever the hell those people consider to be a show, do you?” 

Regulus averted your gaze, and you narrowed your eyes at him. Does he know something…

A glass of cold water over your dress diverted your thoughts. “Oh, sorry,” the girl said, she had a streak of white hair pulled back behind her ears and looked far from being sorry. 

Your dress was black, so whatever she had poured, certainly didn’t ruin the look, even if it was fucking freezing you now, “Whatever, I’ll just use a drying spell,” you said as you pulled your wand out and waved it over your dress. 

“You’re Silas’ daughter, aren’t you? You were sitting next to Lucius at the dinner.” 

You turned to her with a small frown, she was the girl talking to Barty earlier, the one that looked like Sirius and Regulus. You extended your hand politely, “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.” 

She seemed irritated at your lack of recognition. “This is my cousin Narcissa, Cygnus’ daughter,” Reggie said, introducing her to you.  

Cygnus’ daughter… Where had you heard that name? Right, Andromeda’s sister, you thought. You hadn’t spoken much to Andromeda Tonks, though Sirius and Remus had shown you some of her letters. As far as you knew, she had been kicked out of the family in the same way Sirius had, and her sisters had done nothing to help them. But then again, Regulus hadn’t helped Sirius either and you didn’t hate him for that. 

“Nice to meet you,” you added, she gave you a look before actually shaking your hand. 

“You’re dating Sirius,” she added, her tone making it clear that she looked down on you for it. 

“Cissy,” Regulus said in a warning tone. 

“I am, he’s delightful, you should know since you grew up together.” 

She scoffed. “Sirius is a disaster. He would always spark chaos and make stupid pranks on the parties, I’m glad he’s not invited anymore. He wears that awful leather jacket all the time, pretending to be a muggle or whatever and he’s insufferably loud.” 

“All of which I find absolutely charming,” you replied with a nonchalant smile, “You do not?” 

Cissy, as Regulus called her, scoffed again. “Just stay away from Lucius,” she added before leaving you and Regulus behind in favour of talking with someone else, her long hair flipping behind her in a rather majestic way that you would have praised had she not been a total bitch to Sirius. It must be in their genes, you thought, the Blacks have amazing hair.

You turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “The hell was that about?” 

“Lucius is her fiancé, she must have seen you talking to him at the dinner,” Regulus said. “You… looked very interested in whatever he was telling you.” 

“Oh, that?” You asked with a smile that turned into a smirk, “I was trying to piss Evan off.” 

“I figured.” 

“Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an offence.” Regulus raised his eyebrows at you and you gasped in disbelief. Then you spotted someone serving themselves a drink over in the far corner, it was the bar. You smirked, “Come on Reg, I’ll teach you how to drink.” 

“I don’t need to–” 

“Just come,” you added and pulled him along with you, you managed to convince the house elf there to give you a half-empty bottle of Fire Whiskey after telling them Arkalis had asked you to take them to him and pulled Reggie along towards a balcony. 

“It’s cold,” he said as the two of you stepped out, you could see the puff of condensed air blowing from his mouth as he spoke. 

“This’ll warm you up,” you said as you offered him the bottle. He gave you an exasperated look that was an awful lot like Sirius’ but took the bottle in his hands anyway, taking a small sip and scrunching up his face as he felt the bitter taste. Then he coughed and covered his mouth with his arm as he returned the bottle to you with a disgusted frown, you were laughing so much it took you a second to lean closer to him and place your hand on his back. “You all right?” 

“No wonder they call it Firewhiskey,” he said as he managed to catch his breath. You laughed again, still rubbing your hand over his back, he shook his head as he stood straight. He was a deal taller than you now, it hadn’t quite settled back in school, but it was evident now. “Why would you even drink it?” 

“Do you not feel warmer?” you asked as with a raised eyebrow, he seemed to think about it for a second. You were now taking your own sip of the bottle. 

“A warming spell would for sure do the trick.” 

You sighed and leaned over to look at the sky, you could see Sirius’ star up there, shiny and beautiful, just like him. Walburga and Orion might have been awful, but they definitely had a good eye for picking out names, even if they were just copying those of the stars. 

“Yeah, but it would take away the fun,” you said, head still tilted up and looking at the sky. You heard a few whispers from the inside, and you leaned your head over the window, there were people crowding a certain area of the room. Regulus stepped in between you and the window. 

“How’s school going?” 

You gave him a look, that was a stupid question. 

“I mean, I saw you at the Slug Party, you’ve been doing good at potions, haven’t you?” he pressed. 

“Haven’t I?” you asked with a frown, allowing your gaze to turn back to him. “It’s all thanks to my partner, he’s really good?” 

“Sirius?” Regulus asked, he had never heard of his brother being remarkably good at potions. 

“What? No, my potions partner, Remus.” 

“Ah… of course,” he said, now he had heard how good his brother’s best friend was. He was even a prefect. 

“But I’m shit at transfiguration,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t think Minnie and Horace are friends enough to discuss such things, though.” 

“I could teach you,” he offered. 

“Thanks, but I’ve already got a tutor.” You tilted your head to the side to try and see inside and then he moved, blocking your line of sight again. “Regulus?” 

“Yeah?” he asked, playing dumb. 

“You know what’s happening there, don’t you?” 

He swallowed thickly, “Nothing you should be concerned about, it’s adult stuff.” You shook your head as that and motioned to move inside but he stopped you again. “Please!” He sounded desperate. “Let’s stay here, and drink a bit more, I’m… I’m not looking forward to seeing my parents again.” 

You sighed, you knew how delicate it was for both Regulus and Sirius to deal with Walburga and Orion, and perhaps you shouldn’t have listened, you should have followed your instinct and walked inside, but there was something about the pleading expression Regulus had made that convinced you. You huffed out a breath and turned back to him. “How’s school for you? Messing with Severus didn’t put you on the spot, did it?” 

Regulus shook his head and carefully moved to the side, pulling his wand from his pocket and secretly casting a spell towards the doors so the sounds from the inside wouldn’t filter to the outside. You were looking at his face, so determined to figure out his emotions that you failed to notice what he was doing.   

“Not at all,” he responded. “Severus thinks it was all your fault.” 

You pouted at that, “How could it even be my fault, he’s the one that ate the snacks, I didn’t even offer them to him.” 

Regulus laughed at that, “So you had nothing to do? No emotional manipulation involved?” 

“What do you take me for? A housemate?” 

“Haven’t you been saying you ‘missed the whole indoctrination’ part by getting to Hogwarts so late?” 

“Doesn’t change the fact the snakes can be very manipulative. You know the muggles think they’re to blame for losing paradise.” 

Regulus huffed as he shook his head, he was just proving your point right then and there, “Well, I’ve never met a snake with ‘Vixen’ as a nickname.” 

“You know about that?” you asked in disbelief. “How do you even know about that?” 

“The entire school knows about that! Potter isn’t exactly subtle when he calls you. To be honest, I thought he was pissed the first time I heard it, and then I was surprised you weren’t insulted by it.” 

“It’s an inside joke.” 

“I could tell,” he responded and then smirked, almost imperceptibly, “I think it fits.” 

“Ass,” you said with a laugh and pushed him lightly. He laughed along with you. 

Talking with Regulus was fun, he told you more about the Slytherin common room, he mentioned seeing the giant squid through their window once when he was in his second year studying for a quiz late at night, and he told you about the time he had done the quidditch trials, back when Dorcas was still in the team. He asked you about the race, and you told him that’s when you and Sirius got together. 

You also told him about some of the fun things you had done with the boys, like picnics near the lake and even sneaking out at night to get books from the forbidden section. He asked you to teach him the disillusionment charm one day, and you promised you would. 

While the rest of his family was a piece of work, you thought Regulus had come out as nice as Sirius, even if a little more stuck up. You didn’t mind though, it was part of his own charm. He’d make a great brother-in-law…

“And then Solacis added the last ingredient of the potion, and it blew up on their faces…” he told you with a smile, mimicking the explosion with his own hands. The alcohol had warmed his cheeks and made him a lot more expressive by now. You laughed along with him. 

“Yeah? And what did Slughorn do?” 

“Nothing, he was being distracted by Nox so they wouldn’t fail the both of us,” he explained. “Nox added dragon breath to his potion and it clogged the entire classroom with purple smoke.” 

“For real?” 

He nodded excitedly, it was nice to see Regulus more relaxed, “Nox thought it was amazing and tried switching the ingredients around, he now knows how to make smoke of almost any colour, we’ve used it on parties so many times since then.” 

“I had no idea Nox was that into potions…” 

“Oh, he loves them! Slughorn doesn’t like him too much though, he’s always doing his own experiments in the back of the classroom instead of focusing on the class, and often ends up changing the potions around and–” a harrowing scream cut through his words. 

Your head snapped towards the inside and Regulus blinked a couple of times. His spell! It had worn out. 

But I’m not that drunk, he thought, he was certainly having fun, but that was just a consequence of hanging out with you.

“What the hell was that?” you asked as you looked inside, but he stood in between you and the door in a second.

You gave Regulus a stern look but he shook his head really fast, he looked nervous, like a kid that had done something terrible and didn’t want his parents to find out. 

“Regulus,” you said as you tried to look over his shoulder, but he moved to block your sight again. “Regulus, what’s going on?” 

“Nothing. You… you don’t want to know, just trust me.” It was more a plea than anything else. 

You took a step back, “Have you been distracting me?”  

Regulus swallowed and then nodded, “I’m sorry.” 

“Why?” You asked, voice dry. 

“I don’t want you to see what’s happening in there.” 

“And…” 

“Your mum might have implied I’d be better this way as well.” 

You nodded, you weren’t angry at Regulus, at this point you understood why he did most of the things he did, and you knew whatever he was doing now, it was because he wanted to protect you from his parents and whatever it was they were doing. 

“Will you tell me what’s happening inside?” 

“Will you promise not to enter if I do?” 

You sighed, “You know I cannot do that, Reg.” 

“It’s dangerous.” 

“Yeah?! For me or for the person screaming?” 

“If you do anything reckless–” 

You squared your shoulders, determined. “Regulus, let me in.” 

He didn’t move. You tried to move to the side and he moved along with you, effectively blocking your way again, you scoffed, slightly exasperated. 

“Regulus, I–” You were interrupted by another harrowing screaming, and then a silence so eerie it chilled your very bones. You looked at him, straight in the eyes, his eyes were red-rimmed and shiny, you were about to ask him what the hell was going on when a cheer erupted from the inside. All of the wizards were clapping, as if whatever had happened was cause for celebration. 

Regulus winced at that which only made you worry more about what was happening inside. 

“You don’t need to see that, trust me,” he repeated. Thunder came from above and then a smokey green skull appeared in the sky. There was a snake protruding from its mouth, slowly swirling around the skull. You swallowed, you knew exactly what that was, Seraphina had shown you pictures, and she had told you that one of the reasons they’d cast that spell was because… they had just murdered a muggle. 

You swallowed thickly, the scream, the silence, the cheering. It all made sense now. They had been tоrturing someone and you had been distracted, you weren’t even given the chance to stop it. But then again, could you have stopped it? One person –nay, a 6th year– against an entire army of deatheaters, you might have been a good duelist, but you weren’t narcissistic enough to believe you could take them all down by yourself

Perhaps it really was better to be out here, avoiding the reality that was inside and hanging out with the one person in this entire party that you’d actually want to talk to. You didn’t appreciate being tricked, you hated that Regulus had decided to keep you in the dark, but at the same time, you were thankful. He had spared you from having to witness whatever horrors were being committed inside. 

You were just a kid, why was it your responsibility to stop it? Why was it your war to fight? It was fucking unfair. 

“Trust me,” Regulus said, “stay here, it’s better this way.” 

You swallowed, and there was another scream, you shut your eyes and turned your gaze to the side, you could feel tears prickling in your eyes. 

“It’s not your fault, you won’t be able to do anything, even if you witness it.” 

You turned back to look at him, your teeth pressed so hard against each other it hurt, “They’re kiIling muggles,” you whispered. 

Regulus sighed, his eyes were just as glassy as yours, “We can’t do anything about it.” 

You huffed and looked at nowhere in particular. There was another scream, and then another one, and then there was silence and cheers. You sank down to the floor, the snake in the sky was still crawling around. Your breath was slow and controlled as if you were trying to keep it together. The first scream, you couldn’t have blamed yourself for it. The first one out? You had no idea. But this one? 

You already knew what was happening and chose to stay outside with Regulus. You chose to ignore it and an innocent had diеd. Were you any different from your father now? He had sacrificed Sirius and Regulus for his political means –and he hadn’t even gotten them kiIled– and now you were letting those innocent people diе. 

For what? To be the perfect daughter? To play the part they asked you to play and then pretend like nothing had happened? To write a letter to Nightshade and Dumbledore telling them everything that had happened tonight and becoming a valuable asset? A spy? Was that what you wanted to be? Was that what you were meant to do? Was it worth it to let all these people diе, in order to win the war in the future? Were lives exchangeable like that? One life for a hundred, does that… make it worth it? 

There was another harrowing scream and then silence and then more cheers. You dug your head on your knees. 

You

Were

Heinous

As much as you considered your father to be.

Was stopping a war, winning a war, any different from the way he coveted power? Was it any difference in doing things for the greater good to doing things for power if the casualties were exactly the same? People were dying, and you were too much of a coward to do anything about it. Hiding behind a mask of righteousness and pretending it was all for the greater good –It was, but it didn’t feel right.

Sacrificing innocents was never okay, not even for the greater good, and yet… you were here, crouching on the floor, and wishing you were somewhere else, wishing you hadn’t heard that first scream, and that Regulus was still telling you about Nox and how good he was in potions and so on. You wanted to feel like things were normal, like there wasn’t a war; like you were a normal teen, not one being trained to be a soldier, a spy, a warrior.  

Was it selfish to wish for all of this to go away? To wish to be elsewhere? Were you selfish? And if you were then, for what? 

For letting innocents diе or for wishing you were ignorant about it? 

There it was, the eerie silence again. And then a wicked laugh. “Would you look at that? the little witch has claws?” 

The what she said?

 You turned your head to Regulus and the look he gave you in return made you instantly know that whatever was going on inside was as much of a surprise to him as it was to you. 

“Reg wha– What does she mean by witch?” 

“I–” he stuttered and turned to look back, there wasn’t much he could see, except for Bella’s black hair bouncing around as she said something else. “I’m not sure but–” 

“Filthy mudblood!” the same voice roared and then there were screams. 

But there was something about those screams, they were different from the rest… And not because it was a witch but because… you gasped when the realisation hit you –you knew that person.

“Nina,” you whispered. 

“What?” Regulus asked, confused. 

“That’s Nina!” you repeated as you stood up and tried to get inside. 

Regulus squared his shoulders to block your path, and then gently placed his hand on your arm, “There’s nothing you can do, forget it.” 

“They have kilIed muggles, Regulus. What’s stopping them from doing the same thing to her?” 

Regulus shook his head, “You cannot intervene, even if you know her.” 

“Even if I– Regulus, Nina’s my friend! Like you, like James! I would intervene for you, even if it did nothing.” 

“It would be stupid,” he replied, there were tears in his eyes, you could tell his mental struggle ran as deep as yours.  

“If it were me, would you just wait and let me diе?” 

Regulus closed his mouth, looking down while not being able to give you an answer. You weren’t sure you wanted to hear it either way. 

“Let me through, please.” 

“I wouldn’t let you diе,” he said, panic filling his voice, he felt like he had to reassure you, he wasn’t the evil one here, he just wanted to protect you. “But I’ve known you for years, you’re my brother’s girlfriend, it’s different,” his voice was filled with panic. 

“It’s not different for me,” you said as you shook your head, a sombre tone adorning your words. 

“I can’t let you go in,” he replied, his voice breaking towards the end. “I’m sorry.” 

You pulled him into a hug, you could sense him relax into your hug the second you did. She understands, he thought. 

 “I’m sorry too,” you whispered with a sad smile, he didn’t have enough time to react, “Petrificus totalus.” 

You caught him as he fell, his entire body leaning onto yours as you tried to hold him from hitting the ground. Regulus was a lot heavier than he looked but you managed to open the door again and drag him back inside. You smiled awkwardly at the person who spotted the two of you and lifted the bottle as an excuse. If they thought Reggie was passed out drunk, they wouldn’t think you’d charmed him to get in. The person nodded as if completely understanding and you dragged Reggie to a chair. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, accommodating him to look asleep. 

And then you walked as fast as you could towards her screams. 

It took all your strength not to break down at the sight, there were people –not people, their bodies– on the floor. They weren’t covered with bIood or anything like that, it wasn’t gory, it was just… harrowing. At least 7 of them, all of them on the floor, horrified expressions on their faces. They probably had no idea why they were there and had been hexed and tоrtured till the light escaped his eyes.

The scene enraptured you so much the screams in the background almost faded out, especially when you saw someone you instantly recognized. The lady at Kings Cross, the one that had hugged Nina, she was there too, you sobbed. You had allowed that to happen, you had allowed them to kilI Nina’s mum because you were too scared to intervene. 

“Crucio!” you heard the woman scream again. 

You turned your face away from them and towards the turmoil, there were many people crowding around her and Nina, so many that you could barely see the top of her blonde hair, and the only reason you knew Nina was still there was because of her screams. You spotted Tom, Arkalis and the man you now knew as Rodolphus Lestrange all sitting and chatting at a faraway table as if none of it was happening. Tom would often turn to see what was going on, smile and then go back to the conversation with a pleased expression.  

You shuddered and tried to find a way through the people. You had to push a few wizards around and got an angry elbow shoved in the rib at some point but you pressed on. Eventually, you reached the edge of the circle, and you had to hold back the tears threatening to spill out as your young friend squirmed, her long hair sprawled all over the floor, and tears in her eyes. She had her mouth determinedly closed and her brows furrowed, she was trying to resist screaming again, all to avoid giving the woman the satisfaction. 

“I’ll find a way to help you,” you mumbled as you looked around for possible solutions. If you had had more time perhaps you could have used a mist bomb to create a commotion, if you had more time to think of a solution, perhaps you would have burned the curtains down with incendio or caused some other kind of distraction to drive people away from Nina and sneak her out. But you had no time, and your mind was filled with the stress of seeing poor Nina on the floor, with that heart-wrenching expression on her face, and the soft whimpers that she couldn’t help but let out as she continued holding her cries and the woman with curly hair twisted her wand to inflict more pain. 

If you had acted earlier, if you hadn’t let fear and cowardice drive you away from the incident, perhaps things wouldn’t have ended up the way they had, but you had been selfish, and you were now facing the consequences of your own decisions, them being mainly the mental strain and the stupidity of the action you were about to commit. 

“CRUCIO!” the woman shrieked again. “Come on luv, don’t be shy, we want to hear your cries.” 

She twisted her wand and Nina let out an agonising cry. This can’t continue, she’s not gonna last. 

“Come on little mudblood, cry louder!” the woman said, enjoying herself so much you felt like you wanted to puke. “Entertain us!”

You stepped forward, “Stop!” You shouted. 

The woman turned to you and, surprised you had spoken and twisted her wand again, Nina cried, but the moment she spotted you, there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. 

You raised your wand at her, “I said STOP!” 

“Silas’ daughter?” she asked, clearly diverted. “Thought you were snogging my little cousin Regulus somewhere in a corner.” 

You held her gaze, “Last warning,” you added. 

She laughed haughtily in return, “You think you could do anything to me? What are you? A 4th year?”

You were so focused on the woman and Nina, that you weren’t paying attention to the things surrounding you, at least you had gotten her attention enough to have her stop torturing Nina, who was now struggling to catch her breath. 

In the far corner, Orion and Tom had turned to look at the scene with a perturbing interest, as if they wanted to see the bIoodshed that your stupid disobedience would cause. Evan had gripped onto Barty’s forearm and pulled him away from the circle and both of your parents were rushing towards you as fast as you could, but the crowd, which seemed just as interested in the situation, was making it harder for them to reach you. 

“None of your fucking business,” you replied. She turned her wand back to Nina and you stepped in her way in two long strides, she laughed again. 

“You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you? There’s no way a Slytherin would be so recklessly stupid.” 

“Let her go,” you said sternly. “She’s a witch, just like you.” 

The woman laughed again. “She’s as much of a witch as the rest of them,” she said with a smile and pointed at the pile of bodies behind her, “Muggle-borns are abominations that shouldn’t exist. So weak they need real wizards to defend them, don’t they, Luv?” She said the last bit looking at Nina, she was still on the ground, eyes shiny with unshed tears but she held her head high. 

“I’m only making things even,” you replied, “do you really feel superior when you need thirty-plus wizards for torturing a 14-year-old?” 

The woman scoffed, “Do you even know who you’re talking to?” 

“No, but I bet I can guess,” you replied. “Dark curly hair, pretty but dеadly, a little crazy –I assume due to inbreeding– and you were sitting next to Rodolphus, which makes you one of Cygnus’ daughters. I met Narcissa today, and you’re definitely not Andromeda, which leaves out… Saiph? No wait, wrong star, it’s Bella, isn’t it?” 

She gave you a deranged smile, “Bellatrix.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you responded. “Now let’s leave this nonsense behind, and–” 

“Crucio,” she said pointing her wand behind you, Nina cried again. 

“Stop!” you shrieked. “Confringo!”

Bella barely managed to stop your spell and turned to you with rage, “Can someone take care of her?” she asked to no one in particular. Suddenly there were several wands pointing your way, but no one cast a spell. No one was brave enough to attack Silas’ daughter directly. 

Bella smiled and pointed her wand towards you, “Expelliarmus,” she said with a smile, your wand left your hand faster than you could react. 

She gave you a wicked grin as she pointed her wand at Nina again. She looked like she couldn’t take another moment of it, and you were running out of ideas. “Stop! I have a better prey for you.” 

Your father said your name sternly as if he could read your thoughts. 

You ignored it completely, “Why bother with a muggle-born when you could be torturing someone who’s mixed-race.” 

Your father screamed your name again, but Bella seemed interested enough to lower her wand and look at you, she wanted to know whose life you’d propose instead of Nina’s. 

“A mixed-race you said? Whoever could that be?” 

“Me!” you said and took a short breath, “I’m part-fairy.” Several gasps echoed in the room followed by whispers of the crowd.

“She’s lying!” your father spat.

“I am not!” You added quickly. 

“She’s trying to buy time.” 

“I can prove it!” you said desperately. “Use diffindo,” you told one of the people next to you. 

“Do not dare to touch my daughter!” your father roared. 

You looked around, trying to find Barty or Evan, since you knew neither of them would think twice before hurting you, but they were nowhere to be seen. Worst time to be fucking absent, you thought. No one dared to do it. 

“Fine then, bunch of cowards,” you said looking around before bringing your arm to your mouth. You had never done this, but you had practised half transfigurations, you focused all your energy on your mouth and managed to turn your canines into Vixen’s, and then you bit onto your skin and dragged your arm, slicing through it, you didn’t even wince. 

“That proves nothing,” Your father said. He was still trying to reach where you were.

“No, it doesn’t,” you responded. You could feel the metallic taste of your bIood in your mouth, you wondered if you looked as deranged as Bella did now. “But this will,” you said and focused your gaze on the cut you’d made, “Revelio.” 

A single drop of bIood fell from your arm, everyone witnessed it change colour and clash onto the ground in a shiny, silver drop. There was another collective gasp. Bellatrix cackled and your father looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite pinpoint, a mix of desperation, rage and disappointment.

“Well, well, well,” a voice boomed from the back of the room, “what an interesting little plot twist.” The crowd parted to allow the dark lord to walk towards the centre of the room, he seemed pleasantly entertained. “Silas,” he said as he turned to your dad calmly. “Anything you care to explain?” 

You turned to your father, being thankful that everyone’s attention had turned the other way, and looking for someone distracted enough for you to do your next move. 

Your father was about to say something but was quickly interrupted by your mother, “He didn’t know! I lied to him.” 

Your head snapped back towards them, Why is she–? 

“Is that true? Silas?” 

Your father stood straighter, looking indifferent. “I had no idea,” he lied blatantly, “I wouldn’t be married if I did.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit–” 

“Silence child,” you were interrupted by the dark lord who was staring at your dad with interest, he hadn’t said the words to the spell, but your tongue was tied, and you couldn’t emit a word anymore either, “the adults are talking.” 

You moved towards them when you realised you wouldn’t be able to speak. “Incarcerus,” Tom’s voice boomed and a set of ropes appeared from thin air, binding you to the spot you were currently on. His spell was much stronger than Evan’s had been, it was as if the more you moved the more the ropes tightened around your arms, digging into your skin sharply. Tom turned to your mother. “Elaborate.” 

“I met him, I knew he wouldn’t like me if he knew of my heritage so I lied and hid it from him.” 

“Well, I find this is the perfect little set-up for you to prove your loyalty,” Tom said with a simple smile. “Torture her.” 

What? You thought, head snapping towards your mother sharply, forgetting about the ropes entirely. 

Your mother and father exchanged a look, your mom nodded, almost imperceptibly, and then your father raised his wand against her, “Crucio.” 

There was a wicked laugh from Bellatrix as your mother sank to the ground and started screaming. You stared at the scene as if petrified. If there was something you had never doubted in the past, it was the love your parents had for each other. How could he– how was it even…

You turned back to the ropes and started to desperately fight against them. When you realised it wasn’t working you went for plan B, you turned into Vixen and jumped as fast as possible, snatching a random wizard’s wand from their hands as you turned back. 

Of all the terrible ideas you’d had today, this might have been the worst. You barely had enough control over the spell with your own wand, but you had to do something. You took a deep breath and pointed your wand at Bellatrix, “Pestis Incendium.” 

A giant fire exploded out of the tip of the wand you had stolen, prompting the people around you to step back several metres as the fire turned into a massive Chimera. Fiendfyre was a dark and dangerous spell, and you had only practised it in a controlled environment with Nightshade watching your back. But the Chimera you had formed now was bigger and angrier than anything you’d ever created, she was dеadly. The massive winged lion-goat was burning everything in its way as people ran to the sides and attempted to apparate the hell away from the room. 

But Evan’s house was charmed against apparitions, a few of them were caught in the fire as they attempted to run, others tried to fight against it, with water spells, but they seemed to do nothing against the angry beast you’d created. The heat quickly filled the room, smoke from burning things wafting through the air and making it harder to see. You searched for your mother, but you couldn’t spot her at all, so you turned back to Nina who was looking at you with an awed struck expression. You picked up a wand from the floor and handed it over to her before helping her up and casting a disillusionment charm around the two of you. 

“We need to get out,” you whispered, as you grabbed onto her hand and pulled her along with you. You sped through the running crowds as the curtains and furniture started to catch on fire and remembered you had left Regulus petrified. 

You ran towards him, pulling Nina alongside you and finding him still unconscious in the place you’d left him. “Finite Incantatem!” you said and Regulus opened his eyes hastily. He looked around confused and opened his eyes wide when he spotted the giant Chimera behind you, being even more confused when it completely ignored him and turned to the other side. You grabbed onto his arm, leaving traces of bIood over his white shirt, “Get out!” 

“What?” he asked, confused. 

“I won’t be able to control it for much longer, get out!” you repeated and pushed him towards the window before you pulled Nina to the side again. 

She used her wand and started hexing people as you sped through the crowd and toward the window behind the snack area. If you could reach the hedge maze, you’d have enough time to think of a better way to get the hell away from there. 

Finally, you spotted your mum again, she was right in front of the Chimera, using relashio in an attempt to slow her down. You raised your want towards your fiendfyre to drag it away from her but there was a spell cast in your direction. 

“Stupefy!” Bellatrix said as you fell to the ground, you lost control over the Chimera completely and the beast used one of its paws to crush your mother. You could hear your father’s scream ringing in your ears alongside yours, followed by a sob as tears welled up in your eyes. Bellatrix smiled, “Well, well, well, would you look at that, one little fae gone, and one to go,” she said as she pointed her wand towards you. 

You were on the floor, still trying to get a grasp of the situation and attempting to gain control over the Chimera again but it was pointless, she was doing whatever she wanted. Bellatrix smiled and raised her wand towards you, “Avada–” 

“Crucio,” Nina shrieked next to you, and Bellatrix instantly fell to the ground, with a cry. Nina’s curse was so strong that the woman continued to scream madly as she pulled onto her hair. “CRUCIO!” Nina repeated. You looked at her in amazement and she gave you a half smile, fear hidden behind her eyes. “She’s not going to touch you ever again,” she reassured and extended her hand your way, you took it and she helped you up. “Ferrum Incarcerus,” she said and suddenly a set of chains bound Bellatrix Lestrange, “Flagrante,” she said next and the woman started to cry in pain as the chains started to heat up and burn. “Call me a Mudblood again, you bitch!” Nina spat, and you recast the disillusionment charm around the both of you. 

Clutching to each other you walked all the way to the snack table “Bombarda!” you shouted, the window blew into pieces, and your Chimera went wild, growing wider and wider. You looked back once more, Bellatrix was still crying over the chains. There was a tall man, Cygnus, you assumed, trying to help her out of them, but Nina’s spell was strong and whatever he was doing wasn’t working properly. 

You spotted your father clutching the burned remnants of your mom and you stared at the scene almost petrified. You had done that, you had murdered her. 

Nina looked at you with tears in her eyes and decided to avoid staring at the pile where she knew her mother’s body would be, focusing on you, and on getting the hell away from that damned hellhole you’d ended up in. 

“Come on,” she pulled onto your arm. “We have to go, come on!” 

“That–” you said, still looking, the Chimera was bigger now, angrier. “They’re gone.” 

“I know,” she said somberly, but then the urgency came back to her, “Come on, they’d want us to get out!” she added as she pulled onto your arm again, this time much stronger, you didn’t move at all. “Hey, look at me!” she added and grabbed your head in between her hands to force you to look at her, Nina might have been younger, but she seemed so much wiser than you at that moment. “This is awful. Things are awful, and it’s unfair. But two things are true: It was not your fault, and we need to get out.” 

You tilted your head to the side, she didn’t know, she didn’t know you had ignored her mother’s cries. Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, what a terrible person you were. “Okay,” you managed to say and allowed Nina to pull you alongside her and both of you managed to exit through the window. 

The cold was the first thing you noticed, white snow melting into puddles close to the house due to the fire. Messy mud on the floor making the pristine white layer of snow look brown and messy.

There were already Wizards outside, Regulus stood next to his mother and Narcissa, who kept looking inside as if waiting for someone to come out as well. Reggie too was looking around nervously, the last time he saw you, you were still inside and things were chaos. 

You took a small stone and threw it towards him, when he turned around you said “Vermillious,” and from the tip of the wand you had stolen, faint red sparks appeared. People weren’t looking your way, and they had been so faint that they were nothing in comparison to the amount of light that came from your blazing Fiendfyre, but you saw Regulus smile and nod your way. You turned to Nina, somehow much more composed than seconds ago. “You like puzzles, don’t you?” you asked her as you nodded towards the hedge maze. 

She smiled and gave you a nod, “Let’s get out of here,” she added, and the two of you walked inside. You ran through the maze, staying as close to each other as possible, and jumping from dеad end to dеad end. It truly was a headache, but Nina was as determined to get out as you were, so you followed her lead and continued walking behind her. 

“We can’t be too far from the way out, the magic stopping us from apparating is losing power the deeper we go, can you feel it?” 

“Yes,” you replied with a smile, and end to the nightmare, finally. 

“You can apparate already, right?” 

“Kind of,” you replied. “I mean, yes,” you reassured, you’d figure out a way, you’d both get out, you had to.

“Finite incantatem,” someone said when you rounded a corner, and both you and Nina raised your wands against him.

“Would you look at that, charming little butterfly and her mudblood friend,” The man said with a wicked smile, his silver hair flowing behind him. “You really thought you’d get away after causing so much havoc? My fiancé’s father is dеad because of your little ruse.” 

“Obscuro,” you spat, ignoring his remark and going straight for defence.

“Protego,” he returned. “Stupefy!” 

You blocked his spell with practised ease. “Nina behind me!” you said with determination, “Depulso!” 

He blocked as well, “Confringo!” 

You ducked and pulled Nina alongside you to the ground. His spell went straight to one of the hedges and things started to heat up, quite literally. The snow surrounding the area behind you melted and mixed with the dirt beneath, making mud similar to the one just outside the house. 

Lucius taunted and attacked with increasing ferocity, while you fought desperately to defend both yourself and Nina. Spells flew back and forth, lighting up the night with bursts of magic. With each passing moment, the intensity of the duel escalated, fueled by adrenaline and desperation. 

There was constant shouting and blocking. The more time passed and the more time you stood your ground against the man, the angrier he seemed to become. And you were tired, the amount of magic you had used up to conjure the Fiendfyre and the fact that she was still distracting and burning things back at the house, even if out of your control, was draining your energy –and magic– at worrying speeds. 

Combining that with the charred image of your mother that you desperately tried to bury in the back of your mind, you felt closer and closer to losing your grip and concentration, but you refused to give in, if there was something that you were, even in cases of life and dеath, was stubborn. 

“Getting tired, butterfly?” he asked with a cocky smile when he noticed you had almost tripped on a spell. 

“Opugno!” you responded, ignoring his taunting. Suddenly the branches of the hedges seemed to come alive as they went straight to get him.

“Deprimo!” he shouted before the spell hit him, and the floor started to shake, both you and Nina managed to step out of the way, on time, but the hole in the ground had now trapped the two of you in a dеad end. 

“Reparo!” you shouted, your previous spell had been strong enough to distract him while you attempted to build the ground back up so you could continue. 

“Impedimenta!” he shouted, and you were locked in place. When did he even get out of the hedges?

You tried to focus on shaking the charm off while he pointed his wand at you again. You were tired, but you had fought against Nightshade’s impedimenta several times before, and Lucius’ curse was much weaker. Despite that, the amount of magic you had already used had debilitated you and it seemed to require even more concentration than it had done in the past. That didn’t make it impossible. 

You were just getting a grip on the knot of magic that seemed to lock you in place when Lucius smiled, still bound by the hedges but gloating at the way you struggled. 

“Stupefy Maxima!” he shouted. You braced yourself to receive the spell, but instead, you felt a push from the side and ended up cornered against one of the hedges as Nina fell to the ground right in front of you. 

“Nina!” you shouted and dropped to the ground next to her in an instant, then you saw another spell leave his wand. You stared at the red bolt coming straight at you with watery eyes, thinking of all the things you wouldn’t be able to do, of all the things Nina wouldn’t be able to do because you had failed to save her. Anger and sorrow filled your thoughts as you stared at dеath straight in the eyes. 

But she didn’t stare back.

Instead, there was a bright, blinding light that lasted no more than half a second, and Lucius was thrown back against one of the hedges. It was as if his wand had backfired the spell on him. You stared at the scene confused, your bafflement increasing only when you spotted Barty Crouch shooting a stunning spell in Lucius’ direction. 

You turned back to Nina as the two of them fought the other, “Nina,” you said softly as you placed your hands around her face, her cheeks were cold but there was something gooey and warm behind her hair. As you pulled your hand back to look at it better you realised what it was. You shook your head and as you stared. “No, no, no, no...” you repeated over and over again as you leaned down only to realise she had fallen onto a sharp rock. “No, no… Nina, look at me,” you said, voice wavering. 

Her weary gaze turned to you, her eyelids were heavy and tired, but she smiled faintly when she saw you. “You’re okay,” she sighed. 

“No, no, no,” you repeated, tears already blurring your sight as you stared at her. 

“Go!” she said softly, reassuringly. 

“No!” you said again, voice cracking near the end. 

She nodded soothingly, “It’s okay, you have to go.” 

“Nina, please!” you begged. “We can do something, we can find a way to–” 

“Go,” she interrupted you calmly, more secure now. “You’re all right,” she said and smiled, “I can go happy knowing you’ll be alright.” 

“You can’t! I won’t leave, not without you,” you replied stubbornly, shaking your head as you said it.

“You can’t stop her now, the bargain’s made, the deal’s done,” she said simply. 

“No, please,” you said as you leaned onto her chest and allowed the tears to stream down your face, the girl somehow managed to place her hand over your hair and played with some of the strands with the little strength she had left. 

“You know… I’ve been bles-sed,” she said, her breath caught in her throat. “Blessed that you were the last thing I got to see,” she added with a smile, “thank you for saving me.” 

You felt her hand go limp over your head and you heard the last beat of her heart boom against your ear. “No!” you cried and stood back up to look at her. She had a pleased and peaceful expression on her face, contrasting completely with her stained blonde hair, and the rapidly changing colour of snow, no longer white, but scarlet. “Rennervate,” you said pointing the wand at her. Nothing. “Rennervate,” you repeated, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Rennervate, Rennervate, Rennervate.” 

“Stop it!” you heard Barty say from behind you. 

“Rennervate!” you said again, completely disregarding the boy. 

“Hey! You need to get out of here, people are coming.” 

“I don’t care!” You snapped. And turned back “RENNERVATE!” 

“You’re going to diе too! Her sacrifice would be for nothing!” 

“Go to hell!” You responded. You felt him trying to pull you away from her. “Get your filthy hands off me!” 

“Re- rennervate,” you repeated, it was more a whisper than anything else, a desperate cry, a futile attempt to cling onto something that wasn’t there anymore, that wouldn’t be there no matter what you did. Perhaps you had used up your magic, it was a stunning spell, not a kiIling curse. 

But it had also been the fall, and the rock.  

“Listen to me!” Barty said as he hauled you up by pushing you against one of the hedges. “She’s gone, and if you don’t move, you’ll be the same! Your stupid spell will do nothing to bring her back!”

“She’s my friend!” you shouted angrily as you tried to pry his hands away from your arms. But Barty was still stronger than you. “She’s my friend, and she’s struggling because of me. I won’t give up on her!” 

“THERE IS NOTHING TO GIVE UP ON! SHE’S FUCKING DЕAD!” 

Rage filled your gaze as you managed to focus on him again, you tried to push him off of you again, this time with much more determination. When he realised, he smiled and loosened his grip. 

“What?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Wrath is more useful than desperation,” he retorted. “You need to get out of here.” 

You gave one last look at Nina, her pleased expression made her look as if she was sleeping, soft and simple and happy. Could you trick your brain into thinking she was just sleeping if you tried hard enough? 

You turned back to Barty wearily, “Why– why are you helping me?” you asked with a wavering voice, emotions raw and unfiltered at this point. 

“Evan told me what you did for him. He’s taking care of Lucius and I’m much better at apparating than him.” 

You swallowed, distrusting, and turned to the side, Evan was indeed in the distance, performing some kind of spell on the man that had murdered Nina. Your mind was spinning with conflicting emotions. You wanted to lash out, to scream and rage against the unfairness of it all. But there was no use, Nina was dеad and no matter how much you cried about it, you wouldn’t bring her back.

“Look! If it makes you feel better you can hit me–” His words were cut short as your fist connected to his face. “Fuck! I’m trying to help you!” he winced as he reached for his nose. Your fist stung, but clearly, his face did just as much. 

“You’ve been an asshole to me for months.” 

“And I’m trying to do a good deed, bIoody hell!” he replied with a frown, you glared in return. “Come on, we need to get out.” 

“I don’t want to!” You said in a stubborn whisper, you wanted to lean against her and cry until the snow covered both of your bodies and you could forget about it all. 

“But she wanted you to,” he replied, there was bIood streaming down his nose, but there was an honesty in his gaze that you didn’t think Barty was capable of. “Allow me to help make her last wish true.” 

You swallowed, giving the boy one more weary look, “Can you try?” 

“Try?” he asked, confused. He was trying.  

“To save her.” 

“It’s pointless, if you couldn’t do it–” 

“My magic’s weak,” you admitted, despite yourself, it didn’t matter anymore, you didn’t care if Barty or Evan used it against you as long as Nina came back. 

The boy sighed, clearly thinking it was pointless, but leaned down next to Nina either way “Rennervate!” he said steadily.

Seconds passed by, agonisingly slow but nothing happened.

You let out a defeated breath, your mind was suddenly empty. You realised if you didn’t want to end up like her, you’d have to pull yourself together somehow. Barty tried again, even if you didn’t ask him, but the result was the same. You placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Fine, let’s get out,” you said with a nod. Barty stood up and you tighten your grip around the wand you were holding, taking in a deep breath before pointing it at Nina. “Papilioscorpus,” you said, focusing all of your attention on that one spell.

Suddenly Nina’s body transformed into a heap of small blue butterflies. You held back the sob that threatened to escape by sucking in a breath as the small creatures broke off Nina’s body, one by one until there was no more of her, but hundreds of them. 

How unfair it was, that Nina had to diе because she wasn’t a pureblood, you thought, even if Nina would disagree. She didn’t diе because she wasn’t a pureblood wizard, she didn’t diе because they tortured her to dеath, she didn’t diе weak and defenceless and in despair, you had spared her from that fate. No, Nina diеd to save you, and she was pleased with the choice she’d made, simply because she wouldn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t exist. 

They flew up, circling you for a second before continuing their path, way above the hedges, and leaving behind the bIoodstained snow in search of somewhere warm. 

Barty turned to you with a soft expression and then raised his wand to the butterflies, “Irascor,” he said simply. A protective charm, so they would be safe, even if Nina hadn’t been. 

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble, as you saw them leave, not allowing yourself to wallow in the hopelessness you felt at such a stunningly beautiful sight. The snow-covered landscape, the stars shining above in the sky, the small snowflakes falling softly on the ground, all contrasted deeply with how you felt, how broken and in pain you were. You blinked back the tears and turned back to him. 

He nodded and cocked his head to the side, indicating you to follow him. It was slow at first, steps into a different direction, away from the bIood, now being covered by a fresh layer of snow, away from Evan and unconscious Lucius. 

Eventually, Barty started to pick up speed and you matched his pace, a welcome heat to the cold that had now chilled your bones. The dress you had, while long-sleeved, wasn’t exactly snow-friendly. Your heels long forgotten, left as you took faster and faster steps. The white cool of snow against your heels, helping you focus on anything other than all the previous events. 

Barty seemed to know exactly where he was going, and you followed him blindly. The traces of your steps had been long erased by the constant falling snow. If he was leading you to safety or back to the house, what difference did it make at this point? 

But then you felt it: the barriers against apparating were gone. “Where should I take you?” He asked softly, softer than you’d expect him to, the two of you breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. 

You blinked, looking around like a lost puppy. You had no mother, your father was a deatheater or something, and your home was probably not yours anymore –not that it had felt like one in the last few years. “I have nowhere to go,” you said the words as you realised their weight. 

Barty sighed, he knew what it was like to not belong. To feel lonely and forgotten and like he had to be outstanding to be cared for, to be worthy. He knew what it was to have no place to call home, but he had Evan now. He knew what that felt like, and for the first time since he’d met you, he empathised with you. “Sirius?” he offered, he might not like him, but he knew Sirius was as special to you as Evan was to him.

“He’s with the Potters, you cannot apparate there, you don’t know where it is… It would be too dangerous, for the both of us,” you said steadily, emotionlessly, trying to cling to your analytical side. If you blocked the emotions threatening to boil out of you, if you hid them so deep within your mind that they wouldn’t bother you then perhaps you’d be able to keep moving. 

“Secret hideout?” 

“I–” then you remembered. “School! Take me to Hogwarts!” 

“You can’t apparate there…” he said with a frown. Hogwarts was a brilliant idea though, it would certainly be safer.

“No, but, you can apparate on the Shrieking Shack! You’ve done it before.” 

“You want me to take you back, there?” he asked, disbelief laced in his tone.

“Yeah!” you said with a confident nod. 

“Are you… sure?” he asked again, perhaps the emotional toll of the night was getting to you. 

“Yes! I can get to the castle from there,” you repeated. 

He looked at you as if analysing the situation, you seemed pretty sure of yourself, so he nodded, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you closer, Barty was as tall as you, still growing, so you assumed he’d be taller. You ended up hugging each other in the most awkward way possible (a weird sort of hug where neither of you seemed to want to touch each other) before he apparated just outside the shack. 

You felt a sense of relief when you spotted the snow-coated building. You had made it this far, against all odds. But was it worth it? With how much it had cost? 

Barty gave you one last look, “Can I have the wand?” he asked in a relatively polite tone as he pointed to the wand in your hand. He was being considerate, even for his standards.

“Pardon?” You asked as your grip on the wand tightened. 

“I’m going to say I tried to stop you but you apparated away, you’re talented for your age so it’s believable enough. Evan is obliviating Lucius. We’ll try to get your actual wand back–” 

“Nina’s,” you said as you handed him the one in your hand. He frowned. “Get Nina’s wand, it’s more important.” 

“Why?” 

“I can buy another wand, but she… she can’t,” you said, trying not to let your features betray the emotions you felt. 

“But it’ll be useless to–” You gave him a mix between a pleading look and a glare, and he stopped his words, “we’ll try,” he conceded.

You smiled weakly, “Thanks.” He was about to leave. “Wait!” you stopped him, a hand on his shoulder, he turned to you, movements soft and calm, he knew you were on edge. “Priori incantatem, they will know you tried to bring Nina back if they check.” 

“Give me the wand,” you said and he did as told. “Now take it.” 

“Expelliarmus,” he said and the wand you had stolen flew from your hand to his, he caught it in the air with ease. It was surprising how fast he’d caught on to what you meant, but you already knew Barty was brilliant, even if he used said brilliance for evil deeds more often than not. 

“And now stun me.” 

“What? Are you daft? I’m trying to save you,” he protested with a frown.

“And this is my way of thanking you, you put up a fight against me. Stun me softly if you will–” 

“Stupefy!” 

Your body reeled back against the gate and ended up on the floor. It had been soft, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Either way, the physical pain was a welcome distraction from the grief that threatened to consume you whole. 

“Payback for punching me in the face,” Barty said with a smile as he offered his hand. He was joking. 

You scoffed and pushed his hand away, deciding that sitting on the snow was comfortable enough. “Get the hell out before I punch you again.” 

His smile only grew wider and he had the nerve to send you a wink before he apparated again. You stared at the empty space he’d left for a while, there was snow all around. Falling and falling in a stunningly, slumbery sort of way. So peaceful and quiet in comparison to how loud and hectic things had been just seconds ago. Even your heartbeat, which had been blasting against your ears, was slowing down. 

You stared at the cold white snow, and let your head fall back onto the gate as one of your hands fell on it, pulling some of it up and staring at the way it fell from your fingers lazily. You remembered playing in the snow with the boys, how happy you had been that day, you wondered if you could ever be that happy again. 

Ah… how tired did you feel, things were calm now, you weren’t in danger anymore, you sank deeper into the ground, adrenaline dissipating with ease and exhaustion washing over you in waves. You closed and opened your eyes wearily. 

The shack, why did you have to get to the shack? You wondered, everything was so peaceful where you were, you liked it, the cold of the snow soothingly numbing the pain, all the pain, not just the physical one. You let a faint smile coat your lips, who’s that in the distance? You wondered, it looked like someone you knew, but paler. Could it be… Nina? 

And then you closed your eyes. 

And so we grace another table And raise our glasses one more time There's a face at the window And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye…

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A/N: This chapter is getting shadowbanned no matter what I change so please like, reblog and comment so it does not go under the radar. They're only flyin' too close to the sun

Read more Marauders Fiction

[roo-bastmoon]

Off My Chest

Rant about Hybe under the cut. I give you my word I will try to post a majority of positive content, because the world (and my mental health) doesn't need more negativity, but sometimes you just gotta vent.

Folks, if you've known me for a hot second, you've realized I am a Jimin-biased Jikooker... but I am OT7, and I sincerely love and support BTS.

I believe Jimin is a grown man who can advocate for himself and I believe Jungkook absolutely supports and adores him, whatever their relationship status is.

I always try to accentuate the positive and avoid online drama and negativity as much as possible, but I need to get this off my chest.

I will never be gas-lit into believing that the way Jimin was treated in solo era was fair, or equitable, or even made any kind of business-sense. I've genuinely tried to entertain other people's points of view and listen to people who claim to have industry expertise, but...

I will never forget his mail being tampered with four times, his leaked insurance information, denial of more music videos, overlapped solo release, only 9 days of promotion, split title tracks, no radio or play-listing, no bio for his Spotify for months, no restock of his single CD for months, hundreds of thousands of frozen and deleted sales, millions of culled streams, shady articles in WeVerse and Billboard, insulting dialogue in In the Seom, failure to submit to RIAA certification for months, only a paywall documentary on WeVerse, zero official acknowledgement of his Hot 100 #1, 1 billion streams on Spotify, or wins for The Fact, MAMA, and two Webbys, plus broken in-ears, anemic little balloons and a sad background tarp as decorations for his fan events… and the company telling him how doing more would just be impossible.

I compare all that to the push that other members and other groups got, and I know it just isn't true. It wasn't impossible.

Hell, Jeon Jungkook put in more effort to promote Jimin’s work and showed more respect for Jimin as an artist during his at-home lives than that whole company did, which honestly makes no sense from a profit standpoint.

I will never forget it, and I will not entertain arguments that say I’m a solo or an anti or jealous about it. I have eyes.

I am not out to shade any other members nor put forth any conspiracy theories. I simply want all our boys to get everything they justly deserve.

And yes, other members have suffered mishaps and neglect, but nothing of this scale, this consistently. It baffles me, I cannot understand it, and I'm done trying. Something strange was going on behind the scenes and we may never be privy to the details.

In trying to put this awful feeling behind me, I will say I am elated that Jikook are serving together and can support each other. I am glad there will be a Jikook travel show. I'm continually impressed with all of Jimin's success (in the military and professionally) despite all odds. I will always love and support all of BTS with my full heart.

And I sincerely hope the company has been taking notes and course-corrects for PJM2, even if it rubs some higher ups the wrong way if they had a different vision. Considering Jimin’s unique talents and his amazing star power—even his ability to bring Paris and New York to a screaming standstill just for the opportunity to see him exit a car—I would hope the company will “do their best to promote all labels and artists without discrimination” going forward.

But what happened truly sucked, and I needed to get that off my chest. I am not interested in further discussion or debate. I am now going to do my best to shift my focus and energy on to the things I want to manifest, instead of the things that enrage me.

So let me end on a positive and hopeful note: I put all my trust in Jimin, who signed a new contract with Hybe and who unfailingly adores all his members. There can be no love without trust. I will always do my best to trust BTS.

But I'm watching carefully. For Jimin and all our boys.

Love, Roo

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Unknown, Ep 10: Qian and Yuan

I’ve had a few people ask if I was going to do a breakdown post for the final scene between Qian and Yuan. Admittedly, I was not planning on doing so, but I like the attention 😈 so I will! 

Last we left off, Qian and San Pang were having a very difficult conversation, San Pang forced Qian to think about the future and was kicked out as a result. 

We start with a moment with each character to themselves. Qian closes the door behind San Pang and we see him hand at the door for a second, head hung in a way that feels very tired. He walks away from the door back to the couch to grab his glasses and wrap up the evening, when the camera cuts to Yuan sitting on the staircase, just out of sight of Qian. 

We see Yuan look up at the ceiling, take a deep breath, and then slowly move his eyes back to center. He is processing everything that he just heard from San Pang and Qian. Yuan is trying to keep himself composed here, he knows that Qian will be heading up the stairs eventually and so he stays seated because he wants Qian to know that he heard everything. Because Yuan is fucking mad. 

Qian heads up the stairs and we get, what could not be a more perfect little deer in headlights look from Qian as he processes that Yuan has heard everything. And I do love what this show does in how it portrays its characters because Yuan is still Qian’s little brother, and his face in the camera looks like that of an upset little kid. “Xiao Yuan,” Qian says as Yuan stands up and rushes down the stairs. In such a quick moment, Chris rolls his eyes, looks up, and then down like Qian is annoyed at Yuan’s behavior while knowing that he is absolutely going to have to be the one to handle it. 

Yuan brushes past him, but Qian immediately turns and follows after him, calls after him, tells him to wait. But Yuan keeps walking. Where he’s going? I have no fucking clue, but it is clear that Qian’s words aren’t going to cut it. Yuan has heard everything that Qian told San Pang. He’s heard about Qian’s wish for their happiness, he’s heard San Pang tell Qian that they love each other, that they have tried everything to make them not love each other, and what he hasn’t heard is an answer to San Pang’s question: 

“Do you want him to have a future without you?”

I don’t know exactly what (if any) part of the conversation acted as the tipping point for Yuan, but he has been pissed the entire episode about Qian hiding his medical stuff from him. So I can imagine that not hearing an answer from Qian about wanting to be in Yuan’s future might serve as a last straw kind of deal. 

And it marks a very important change in Qian that he runs after Yuan this time, that he physically puts himself in front of Yuan to stop him. Because he doesn’t want Yuan to go somewhere to cool off the way he did during Yuan’s first confession four years prior. He doesn’t want to just wait it out. He actually wants to talk to Yuan about where his head is at. That is huge progress from Mr. Hit First Talk Later. 

“Ge.” Yuan says, and then lets out a very big breath, like he’s trying to temper his feelings, but the frustration still bleeds out of him “It was never your fault,” 

Ah, here we go. What set Yuan off is Qian talking with San Pang about the Russian Roulette, reading between the lines there and understanding that Qian is scared of giving in to his feelings for Yuan because he blames himself for how deeply, how steadfastly Yuan loves him. Yuan is willing to die for him, and Qian has never had that before. He’s scared of giving in to his feelings for Yuan because he is scared of losing Yuan, and he is scared that Yuan’s love for him means Yuan will be lost because of him. 

“It was never your fault,” Yuan said and he put his hands on Qian’s shoulders. 

I do not even know how to describe the look Qian gives Yuan when he heard those words, nor can I really tell you what emotion(s) Qian is feeling in that moment, but I can tell you that I am obsessed with that look on his face. It’s like his breath catches in his throat and there is an ambiguity there, just like there was a bit of ambiguity in the head nod he gave San Pang, because he’s out of breath from running after Yuan, but there is also this chance that the pause in his breathing there is because of what Yuan said. Anyway: 

“Even though I know that in the end you might not want all that I’ve given-” 

Yuan says, while Qian looks down in the direction of his shoulders, where Yuan’s hands were just a moment ago. They made excellent casting choices here, I actually think for this scene it is really important that Kurt is taller than Chris, because it adds some extra power to Yuan’s position for me here. The way Yuan looks down at Qian makes him seem even more pissed off about the entire situation, almost like he’s belittling Qian. He wants to dig a knife in here, and he’s being successful at it

“Hearing it first hand still hurts a little,” 

And we are back in our original confession dynamic. Qian is not looking at Yuan, Yuan refuses to look away from Qian. Qian looks kind of out of it, I would say he is dissociating a little bit, but I actually think what is happening here is that Qian is getting hit with the full force of Yuan’s words. I think he is absorbing and processing everything that is being said and understanding how not making a decision is hurting Yuan. Mostly because of how quick his reaction time is to trying to stop Yuan from walking away immediately after he says it hurts. 

“I’ll be fine. I just need some time.” Yuan says, and I do think he means it. I think when Yuan came back from the States he had reached a point where he could live without Qian changing their relationship status, even if he didn’t want to. 

But as Yuan tries to walk away, Qian stops him.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” look at him using his words!  Qian looks so fucking exhausted when he does. The world has weighed heavy on him for so long, he’s been fighting an internal battle with himself about his feelings for Yuan for ages. It’s a lot, and the way Chris holds Qian here makes it feel like a lot. But, Yuan finally settles, because Qian is willing to engage in conversation. He is trying to clarify a misunderstanding, he is not outright rejecting Yuan here, he is not running away from talking about his feelings for Yuan. And so Yuan can stay, because there is some hope left there for him to hold on to. 

He releases another huge breath, he stretches for just a second, grounding himself. He looks back at Qian “Then what do you mean?” 

Qian stares in to the void, then rolls his eyes upwards, closes his eyes, and sighs. Chris shakes his head a little, like Qian is giving up. Because he is giving up. Because Qian is about to say the words. He is about to admit that his feelings for Yuan aren’t clear cut. Yuan looks away from  Qian in this moment, where Qian is getting himself together. 

gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

“I can’t really figure out if it is love or something else that my feelings for you are.” And at the end of this, he isn’t running from the words anymore, because he looks at Yuan and Yuan is looking back at him. When Yuan first admitted his feelings, his suffering caused Qian to avoid eye contact. When Yuan returned, Qian couldn’t stop looking at Yuan. When listening to Yuan once again speak to his feelings and tell Qian he was hurting, Qian started in his comfort zone, in the old habits of looking away. But when he is actually admitting his feelings to Yuan, he does turn to look him in the eye. He isn’t avoiding it anymore. 

“Is it the love of a brother? Can we really turn it into romantic love? I don’t know.” Qian is finally having the conversation he has needed to have with Yuan. This is confusing, how do you separate your feelings out? How do you know? What happens if things don’t go well? How much are you set to lose if things devolve?” 

Yuan is capable of holding, understanding, and pushing that nuance, we’ve seen him do it before at the river. “This thing between us, is it because you don’t want or you don’t dare?” 

“Yes.” Qian says “All I know is I can’t live without you.” 

Yuan has seen that, San Pang and Lili have seen that, we have seen that. Qian wants to be careful with how he proceeds along this path, and he is right to do so. Because it is hard to determine, when you have known someone so long, when you have raised them, when you have seen them as a brother, when you have not had love outside of the family before, when that love has existed the entire time, and has been different the entire time, and how do you recognize that when you are in it? 

There is a pause. 

“Four years later, you came back.”

There is another pause. 

I love these pauses. I love Qian putting space between these thoughts, whether he is scrambling internally for what to say, or whether he is hesitant to voice them, I do not know. I just know that I love love love when directors allow for breathing room. 

“I saw your letter of last words.” 

Qian stops looking at Yuan here. Another little pause. 

“That’s when I started to feel scared.” 

The camera cuts to a wide shot, where both Qian and Yuan are visible. And we can see Yuan reacting to what Qian is saying. Yuan also is not making eye contact, he is fidgeting a little. But he is listening intently to Qian’s words. The blocking of this shot is interesting to me too, because the way that Chris is standing has Qian facing Yuan, but we don’t see enough of Chris’ eyes here, so while it looks like Qian is looking at Yuan, that is not necessarily the case. We have seen him look away multiple times and his head barely moves. 

Qian is talking in to the void, and Yuan is picking up the signal. Another pause, and right before Qian continues talking, Yuan turns to look at him with this look of surprise on his face. His mouth is slightly agape, his eyes look soft staring at Qian.

 “I’m terrified,” Qian says. “What if you had no chance to come back? I don’t know what I would do.” 

Yuan looks at Qian, looks away, looks up like he is trying to decide how to feel. What type of treatment he should be giving to Qian at this moment. Should he be bitter, should he be harsh, should he be soft? 

“Wei Qian.” Yuan says 

AND I WILL ONCE AGAIN SHAKE MY FIST AT THE SUBTITLES FOR TRANSLATING GE AS QIAN BECAUSE IT SO SEVERELY CUTS THE IMPORTANCE OF MOMENTS LIKE THIS ONE. 

Qian cannot figure out his feelings! He can’t figure out if he loves Yuan like a brother or something more! So Yuan cuts the brother out of it. He calls Qian by his name. He calls him Wei Qian, he puts the separation up for Qian. Is this the love of a brother? That’s an easier question to answer when you aren’t being called ‘brother’. How do you feel when you aren’t being reminded of your connection? 

I do not have the ability to describe the way Kurt’s mouth moves here, but I love the expression he gives Yuan as he finishes saying Wei Qian. He’s clearly going for a soft approach. Qian’s mouth, which hangs open just slightly, closes shut. 

“I’ve told you. I can sum up my life in two words: Wei Qian.” A smile starts to creep up his face. That’s love, bitch! Yuan was pissed, but now that Qian has stopped him, not that Qian has voices his hesitations, now that Qian has admitted that he can’t live without Yuan, even if he doesn’t know what his feelings for Yuan are, the love Yuan has for Qian melts the anger and lets the love bleed through. “But I’m not making you take responsibility for me.” 

This is a very important character trait of Yuan’s. One of the first things we saw of teenage Yuan was him grabbing one of the household bills. Yuan has been working side hustles while in school. He’s been helping pay the bills. He’s been as helpful as he possibly can be at all times, because this was a home he was given, not a home he was born in to. 

GOD DAMMIT CHRIS IS SO GOOD. ALL HE DID WAS MOVE HIS EYEBALLS LIKE…TWO CENTIMETERS AND THAT WAS ENOUGH TO KILL ME. 

Yuan is saying all the things that Qian needs to hear. Yuan can sum his life up with Qian, Qian fed him, Qian kept him warm, Qian gave him a home, Qian gave him love. Qian has seen Yuan as his responsibility since they were kids, but Yuan has wanted nothing but to be a support system for Qian. I said it before, that Yuan is the only person who continuously helps Qian to whom Qian is not beholden. Qian owes San Pang and his family, Qian owes Le and the gang, Qian owes Xiong. Qian does not owe Yuan. Qian does not see Yuan as someone that owes him. 

That small little eye motion are some gears clicking in to place in Qian’s head. That small little eye motion is Qian well and truly listening to what Yuan is saying. 

And here comes the parallel: 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

“Did you come after me because you feel guilty, or because you care?” (this thing between us, is it because you don’t want or you don’t dare?) 

A genuine question that Yuan is using to try to push Qian in to allowing himself finally see his feelings through to the end. Qian is standing here before Yuan telling him that he does not know what his feelings for Yuan are. Even though those In The Know (Yuan and San Pang) can see the truth in Qian clear as day, Qian himself has not admitted it. 

So Yuan gives him a test.

Qian pauses for a moment, starts to shake his head, blinks. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

“I really don’t know,” he says 

Qian has failed the test. 

Yuan’s soft smile has a hint of sadness in it now. 

“You don’t need to know.” Yuan leans back against the wall, looking up at the sky. Qian is looking straight ahead, once again not making eye contact with Yuan “It’s always been my problem. Going home with you.”

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

The weight of what Yuan is saying hits. Qian looks at the ground. Complete opposite direction as Yuan.  

“Getting attached to you. Falling for you.” 

Qian closes his eyes and sighs, pulling his head up from where it was pointed. It’s like he can’t get used to hearing Yuan confess. Like it hits him every time Yuan says he’s in love with Qian and has been forever. 

“Wanting you all my life.” 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

That is too much for Qian. Even with his eyes closed, even though he can’t see Yuan right now, he has to face away. 

“It was never your fault.” Yuan says, and Qian’s eyes open ever so slightly. 

And I just have to say that it is really really important to me that with all of Qian’s trauma, with everything he has suffered, with the stuff he went through with his mother, that he finally has someone tell him that it wasn’t his fault. There is naturally a lot of hesitation in changing the way you see someone you have raised, someone you have looked at and treated as a brother, and suddenly see them as someone to be romantically interested in. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

So it is important to me that Yuan tells Qian he did nothing wrong. That Yuan’s feelings here are entirely his own, borne of his own mind and body, and that there is no aspect of Yuan’s feelings for him that Qian pressured him in to. That Yuan will be fine, eventually, if Qian does not reciprocate his feelings. Qian is not being forced in to anything here, and neither is Yuan. And I am so so so glad that Qian got to hear that. Twice! 

Anyway, Qian’s eyes open ever so slightly right as Yuan starts walking away, shoulder checking Qian on his way out. 

“Wait.” Qian grabs Yuan by the wrist “Wei Zhiyuan.” 

gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Yuan’s eyes are locked on to Qian’s hand around his wrist. He once again looks surprised that Qian would be brave enough to stop him from leaving. We get a shot of their hands (😈) and Yuan ever, ever so slowly raises his eyes to look at Qian.  

Qian has passed the test at the last second.

[fluffymiyaa]

Waste The Night

Painting!Gojo x Painter!reader x Painting!Geto

Summary: In a haunting twist of fate, your tragic painting suddenly springs to life, its sorrowful characters and somber scenes manifesting before your eyes.

3 4

Masterlist Main Masterlist

You decide to start your morning by making breakfast. Just a simple omelet and a nice, hot cup of coffee. You eat it quietly, enjoying your morning routine as you watch TV. Then suddenly, there's a knock at your door. You furrow your brow, wondering who could be visiting your house this early in the morning.

You quickly finish up your nearly-done omelette and rush to the window, trying to discreetly peek outside. Your eyes widen in shock, and your body starts shaking when you see the police car parked outside your house. The sight sends a wave of fear and confusion coursing through you.

What? What's going on? What happened? What did i do?

Your mind races with a thousand questions as you approach the door, each step heavy with apprehension. What could have prompted the police to come to your house? You rack your brain, trying to recall if you've done anything that might warrant their attention, but nothing comes to mind. Your pulse quickens as you reach for the doorknob, your hand trembling slightly. With a mixture of fear and determination, you twist the knob and swing the door open, bracing yourself for whatever awaits on the other side.

You face the two police officers, their stern expressions sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart races as you try to maintain your composure.

"...can I help you, sir?" you manage to stammer out, your voice trembling with apprehension.

"Ms. L/N Y/N, correct?" One of them addresses you, his tone serious and probing.

"Y-yes, that's me..." you reply, the words barely escaping your lips as you struggle to keep your voice steady.

The two police officers glance at each other, a silent exchange passing between them. One of them retrieves something from behind his back, and your eyes widen as he holds up your phone. How could you not have realized your phone was missing? Your furrow your brow in confusion, wondering how they came to possess it.

"Huh...yes, that's mine...but how?" you manage to ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty and concern.

"Miss, please come with us to the police station." one of the officers replies, his tone firm yet respectful.

"What? No! I didn't even do anything!" you protest, your heart racing as panic begins to set in.

The officers sigh, their expressions sympathetic yet resolute as they try to maintain control of the situation. They show you a picture of a familiar old man - your manager.

"Do you know this man?" they ask, their eyes searching yours for any sign of recognition.

You gulp, feeling a lump form in your throat as you nod in acknowledgment.

"Yes...he's my manager." you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

The officers nod, their demeanor becoming more serious as they continue to speak.

"He was found dead in the hallway just 50 meters from here. There was a long, sharp cut on his neck, indicating that someone had slashed his throat. Based on the condition of the body, it is estimated that the incident occurred in the middle of the night or early morning, as the body was still quite warm when it was discovered. We have called an ambulance to take him to the hospital, and we are currently trying to contact his family, including you." they explain, their words weighing heavily on you.

"So what I'm saying is, miss, you are the first suspect in this case. The last time the victim had contact was with you." they conclude, their gaze unwavering as they hold up your phone as evidence.

Your mind races with disbelief and fear as you try to process the gravity of the situation unfolding before you.

You freeze in place, a wave of shock washing over you, followed by a surge of panic that leaves you sweating and trembling. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you struggle to comprehend the situation unfolding before you.

"W-wait, there must be a misunderstanding! I-I didn't have the phone with me! Someone must have stolen it from me! Please, you need to trust me! I'm innocent! Somebody must have framed me!" you stammer, your voice trembling with desperation and fear.

The officers exchange a glance, their expressions unreadable as they listen to your frantic pleas. Yet, despite your protests, their demeanor remains stoic and unwavering, their duty to uphold the law evident in their unwavering resolve.

"Save that explanation at the police station, miss," one of the officers responds sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With a heavy heart and a sense of dread gnawing at your insides, you nod weakly, realizing that you have no choice but to comply. The weight of the situation presses down on you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you feeling helpless and vulnerable.

You take a deep breath and follow the officers as they lead you towards their patrol car, your mind racing with unanswered questions and fears of what may await you at the police station.

Your gaze shifts to the handcuffs encircling your wrist, a stark contrast against the soft fabric of your pajamas. These hands, once so adept at wielding a paintbrush with grace and precision, now rendered powerless and confined.

Alone in this sterile white room, the silence weighs heavily upon you, broken only by the rhythmic whirring of the fan above. Each breath feels labored, as if the air itself has grown thick with uncertainty and fear.

The door creaks open. A figure steps into the room, their footsteps echoing against the sterile white walls.

It's a detective, clad in a crisp suit with a stern expression etched onto his face. His presence alone sends a shiver down your spine, amplifying the feeling of unease that has settled over you like a suffocating fog.

"Miss Y/n, good morning" he says, gesturing towards the lone chair positioned in the center of the room.

Oh yeah what a good morning

You comply silently, the handcuffs rattling as you move, a constant reminder of your current predicament. Sitting down, you feel small and vulnerable under the detective's scrutinizing gaze.

He takes a seat across from you, opening a file with your name written on it in bold letters. His eyes flicker over the contents before fixing on you once more.

"We have some questions for you regarding the events of last night," he begins, his voice firm yet measured.

You nod slowly, your heart hammering in your chest as the gravity of the situation sinks in. This is far from the peaceful morning you had envisioned, and you can't shake the feeling that your life is about to change in ways you never imagined.

"Where were you last night?"

The officer's gaze remains fixed on you, probing for any signs of deception or evasion in your responses. You swallow hard, the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you like a heavy burden.

"I was sleeping, in my room." you reply, betraying the nervousness that grips you.

He nods slowly, jotting down notes on a pad of paper as you speak. The scratching sound seems to echo loudly in the otherwise quiet room.

"How do you feel about him being your manager?" he inquires, his tone measured yet insistent.

You hesitate, searching for the right words to convey the mix of emotions swirling within you. "He... uhm, he's good at his job," you finally manage, the words sounding hollow even to your own ears.

The furrow in the officer's brow deepens as he continues to study you intently. "Ms. L/n, does your manager ever mistreat you?" he presses, his voice taking on a more serious undertone.

Your mind races, recalling the countless arguments and disagreements that have punctuated your working relationship with the now-deceased manager. "Well... it's just normal arguments," you offer hesitantly, attempting to downplay the significance of your conflicts.

But the officer doesn't seem convinced, his scrutiny unwavering. "Do you have any feelings of hatred towards him?" he probes further, his gaze piercing through your defenses.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you grapple with the weight of his question. "N-no... not at all," you stammer, though a nagging doubt lingers at the back of your mind.

"Ms. L/n, I need you to answer the question truthfully," the officer presses, his tone firm yet not unkind.

Your hands tremble slightly as you respond, the weight of the interrogation bearing down on you.

"I do" you admit

The officer's gaze remains steady, his eyes searching yours for any hint of deception. "Do you know if he engaged in inappropriate behavior, such as harassment towards someone else?" he asks, his voice soft yet probing.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, struggling to find the right words amidst the chaos of your thoughts. "W-well, he has a bad temper," you offer tentatively. "I think he may have had a lot of enemies."

"Enemies, huh? Does that include you, miss?" the officer inquires, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his gaze, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. "No!" you exclaim, a surge of frustration and desperation rising within you. "I told you, I have nothing to do with this! Somebody else must be trying to frame me!"

The officer raises a hand in a calming gesture, his expression remaining composed despite your outburst. "Please, Ms. L/n, I understand that this is a difficult situation, but I need you to remain calm and lower your voice." he advises, adjusting his glasses with a practiced motion.

You take a deep breath, attempting to steady your nerves as you nod in acknowledgment. Despite your fear and uncertainty, you know that maintaining your composure is crucial if you hope to convince the officer of your innocence.

"Do you perhaps know somebody else who harbors ill feelings towards your manager?" the officer probes further.

Your mind races as you consider the question, recalling the various individuals who had clashed with your manager over the years. "Uh... I have some people in mind," you admit hesitantly, careful not to implicate anyone unfairly.

The officer nods, gesturing for you to continue. "Can you say their names?" he prompts, his voice calm yet insistent.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself before naming those who had openly expressed their dislike for your manager and had been heard saying disparaging remarks about him.

"Are any of them aware of your security password?" the officer inquires, his brow furrowing in thought.

"Hm... Miko? She's one of the closest to me," you respond, your mind racing as you try to recall if you had ever shared your password with her. "But I never thought she's the one who stole my phone..."

The officer nods, jotting down notes in his book before closing it. He rises from his chair, his posture professional yet empathetic. "I think that's it for today. You can go home," he informs you, his voice carrying a sense of finality. "But you must remember, you're still a suspect. The police will continue to monitor you."

As he walks towards the door, he pauses, turning back to face you with a somber expression. "Oh, and I think you might need a lawyer." he adds, his words hanging heavily in the air as he exits the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon you.

As you step back into your house, a wave of exhaustion washes over you, leaving your body feeling heavy and your limbs weak. You can hardly muster the energy to move, let alone eat. Your appetite seems to have vanished, replaced by a gnawing feeling of anxiety that weighs heavily on your mind.

Collapsing onto the nearest chair, you curl up into a ball, seeking solace in the silence of your empty house. The minutes tick by slowly, each passing moment adding to the weight of the burden you carry. You glance at the clock, its hands seemingly frozen in time, mocking your sense of helplessness as they stubbornly refuse to move.

As you sit there, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on your shoulders, you feel a surge of panic rising within you. The thought of finding a lawyer seems like an impossible task, especially considering the overwhelming number of options and the uncertainty of who you can trust. The exorbitant costs associated with legal representation only add to your distress, leaving you feeling trapped and helpless.

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to comprehend why this is happening to you. You've always tried to live your life with integrity and honesty, yet now you find yourself thrust into a nightmare of accusations and suspicion. It feels unfair, unjust, as if the world is conspiring against you for reasons beyond your understanding.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. The weight of uncertainty and fear bears down on you, making it difficult to see a way out of this predicament.

"What should i do..? Why is this happening to me?"

You cry until exhaustion overwhelms you, and you don't even notice as you drift into sleep, your head resting on the table. Once you slowly wake up, your body jolting in panic as you glance at the clock.

"Shit, how long have I been asleep?"

It's already 3 pm. Feeling too restless to eat, you grab a pudding from the fridge and quickly devour it. Then, you make your way upstairs to your studio.

As you enter the room, your eyes land on the paintings of Suguru and Satoru on their canvases. You long for their comforting presence right now. Absentmindedly, you pick up a brush and examine it, lost in thought.

Suddenly, a light bulb seems to illuminate above your head. An idea forms in your mind.

"Wait, if I can't find a lawyer, maybe I can just make one?"

You chuckle at the absurdity of the thought, imagining crafting your own lawyer from brush, paint, and canvas.

But then you pause, considering the idea more seriously.

"...I mean, it's not a bad idea. And I wouldn't have to pay him or anything, right?"

Lost in contemplation, you sit in silence, the idea lingering in your mind as a potential solution to your current predicament.

"God..im gonna get real in jail if they find out it's a fake lawyer."

Your hand slowly dances on the canvas, skillfully shaping the figure as you contemplate what personality to imbue him with.

With each stroke of the brush, you pour your passion and determination into creating this imaginary legal representative. Despite the absurdity of the situation, your focus is unwavering. After all, you refuse to entertain the thought of ending up in jail.

As the painting begins to take form, you infuse it with characteristics that you believe a trustworthy lawyer should possess: intelligence, confidence, and a hint of charisma. With each brushstroke, you mold him into the ideal representation of legal expertise and competence.

In your mind, this painted lawyer becomes more than just a creation on canvas. He becomes your lifeline, your protector against the unjust accusations looming over you. And as you continue to paint, you feel a sense of empowerment wash over you, knowing that you are taking control of your own destiny, one brushstroke at a time. You drop your brush and let out a satisfied groan as you admire your creation. The image of the lawyer stares back at you from the canvas, exuding an aura of confidence and intelligence.

"Ah..i end up making him good looking. Well, what's the harm anyway." you mumble to yourself, a faint smile playing on your lips.

Stretching your tired muscles, you take a moment to appreciate the sense of accomplishment that comes with bringing your idea to life. Despite the unconventional circumstances, you can't help but feel a sense of pride in your artwork.

With a deep breath, you remind yourself that desperate times call for creative solutions. And if your painted lawyer can help you navigate through this legal ordeal, then his good looks are just an added bonus.

Feeling a surge of determination, you gather your resolve to face whatever challenges lie ahead, knowing that you now have a unique ally on your side, even if he exists only in paint and imagination.

"Now the problem is..i don't know when he's gonna become real!" You cried out, frustration evident in your voice.

"Please please become real in the morning till evening! Not in the night please please please!" You beg in front of your painting, your desperation palpable.

What a scene it must be, if somebody else were to find you in this position—on your knees, pleading with a two-dimensional figure. They would undoubtedly be puzzled, perhaps even weirded out by the sight.

But you don't care about appearances right now. All that matters is finding a way to ensure your painted lawyer materializes at a time that's most advantageous for you. So you continue to beseech, your words echoing in the quiet of your studio, hoping against hope that somehow, your plea will be heard and answered.

"What are you doing?" You hear someone's voice, and as you turn around, you see Suguru looking at you with a puzzled expression, while Satoru regards you with a mixture of concern and pity.

"Oh no..is she losing her mind?" Satoru expresses his worry, his brow furrowing.

"I think she is." Suguru agrees, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.

You flush with embarrassment, realizing how bizarre your actions must appear to them. But you don't know how to explain yourself, especially considering the circumstances. All you can do is hope they won't judge you too harshly for your desperate attempt to summon a painted lawyer to aid in your defense.

You quickly get up, trying to conceal the painting behind your body, although it's barely covered.

"You guys are surprising me! Don't show up like that!" you exclaim, feeling caught off guard.

"And so are you. Besides, why are you hiding it behind you? The canvas is way bigger than you." Suguru remarks, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Satoru takes hold of your wrist, his expression one of curiosity mixed with concern.

"What are you trying to hide from me?" he asks, his tone gentle yet probing.

You glance between them, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. How do you explain the bizarre situation you've found yourself in?

Satoru gently pushes you aside to get a better look at the canvas. His eyes widen in surprise as he takes in the figure of another man painted on the canvas. A pang of unease and hurt tightens his chest.

Suguru narrows his eyes, studying the scene with intensity.

"What's the meaning of this? Explain." he demands, his tone icy.

"Are you cheating on us? Are we not good enough for you?" Satoru's voice trembles with a mix of hurt and confusion as he confronts you.

You feel a lump form in your throat as you try to find the words to explain

"Wait, no! I can explain! Please, hear me out! I-I need him!" you plead desperately, feeling the weight of guilt and fear pressing down on you.

"You don't need us anymore?" Satoru's voice cracks with hurt and confusion.

"N-no! T-that's not it! P-please, I just..." Your throat feels dry, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you struggle to speak. It's all too much, the overwhelming weight of everything that's happened crashing down only in one day.

You break down into sobs, unable to contain the flood of emotions any longer.

Satoru and Suguru rush to your side, their faces filled with concern and apology as they try to comfort you.

"I'm sorry, y/n... Please, just take a breath," Satoru says, squeezing your hands tightly in his.

"Hey, calm down." Suguru murmurs soothingly, gently stroking your cheek in an attempt to calm your trembling.

"Let's talk about this calmly," Suguru interjects, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. He takes a step closer, his eyes soft with concern. "Y/n, we're here for you. Just explain to us what's going on."

Satoru nods, his expression a mix of worry and understanding. "Yeah, we're not going anywhere. You can tell us anything."

You take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself enough to explain. "I... I made him because... because I didn't know what else to do. I'm in trouble, guys. The police came to my house today... they think I had something to do with my manager's death."

Suguru and Satoru freeze in dread as news of the police's arrival sinks in, a heavy silence enveloping the room. That night, driven by uncontrollable impulses, they acted rashly, blinded by a desire for vengeance. Unbeknownst to them, their actions inadvertently shifted blame onto you, leaving you to bear the weight of their mistake.

As tears continue to stream down your face, they exchange guilt-ridden glances, debating if they should tell you or not.

"Wait a second, Y/n." Suguru interjects, his voice tinged with urgency.

They step away from you, huddling in a corner, frustration evident on Satoru's face.

"What are we going to do?" he mutters in frustration, his mind racing for a solution.

Suguru closes his eyes, grappling with the weight of their actions.

"This is on me. I should have been more professional, ive been doing this for years but my recklessness led to this. I dont know what makes me so uncontrolled that night." he admits, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

Because it was you.

Satoru look at you who still slump down on the cold floor. He cant seeing you like this it hurts him.

And so Suguru, he put you in danger and he was behind all of this.

"It's not just your fault. We did this to protect her, but we've only made things worse." he insists, his voice filled with remorse.

"We need to clean this for real this time." Suguru agrees, determination flickering in his eyes. Satoru turns to you, resolve in his gaze.

"I'm going to tell her," he declares.

"Wait what?"

Satoru turns back to you, steeling himself for the inevitable confession.

"Y/n... we..." Satoru begins hesitantly, but Suguru interrupts, his voice strained with uncertainty.

"Satoru, don't." Suguru stopped him.

"But i can't lie to her!"

Suguru exhales heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, his eyes filled with remorse.

"Fine."

With a heavy heart, they turn to you, their expressions fraught with sorrow.

"W-what is it?"

"Y/n... we're the one who killed your manager" Satoru confesses, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

The revelation hits you like a sledgehammer, sending shockwaves through your entire being, leaving you feeling as though the ground has been pulled out from beneath you.

"H-huh?"

Ik this isnt make sense, lets just pretend theres no cctv or they managed to avoid them im literally so dumb😮‍💨

Thanks for the notes, reblogs make me feel more appreaciated<3

Tags: @ceramic-raven @beastofthetrees @r0ckst4rjk @gothiccwhore666 @barryatsumu

[littlemorningstarx]

Warning: this is fantasy, and only roleplaying between consenting adults would make this scenes okay outside of fantasies, if you can't comprehend consent, go away. I'm very serious about this.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Imagine having a 16yo big brother who loves you so fucking much he can't stand to not touch you all the time. So by the time you're 10yo, you're already used to big bro hugging you, pulling you into his lap and holding you there, and you think nothing of the big bulge in his pants and your little perky ass.

But you're little friends are starting to talk about boys and the forbidden wrong stuff their parents do at night and you're beginning to understand why you're big bro like you so very much:

You can make him feel so good

You're so proud to discover that

So one weekend while you're parents are out of town on a work trip and left you with your brother, you sneak into his room at night time after you're supposed to be asleep and finds him smoking a weird looking cig.

You've seen the older kids smoking these kinds of cigarettes and you're curious. So when you're big brother sees you as you enter the room, you ask him about it.

"It makes you feel good, sis. Com'ere" he says in a soft tone, scutching you in his lap and he's wearing just his boxers. You love the feeling of his skin in yours and cuddles up to him, feeling his cock —your friends taught you the word— twitch under you "try it"

You tale a drag, coughing as the smoke chokes on your throat. Your big bro laughs at you, caressing the exposed skin on your thigh.

"It'll get better, just feel it"

You obey your big brother because you trust him and wants so bad to please him. So you take another hit, then another and another. You squirm a little.

"I feel dizzy" you murmur as you feel your pjs sliding off your body, your skin so sensitive it feels like you're on fire.

"It's normal, sis, and I'll show you what else is normal" your brother tells you and you feel his hands sliding down to your princess parts.

You whine as his fingers brush your pussy, a sensitive button pulsating in the middle of your legs.

"This feels nice" you say and your brother hums in agreement.

"You're dripping so good for your big brother, love" he says in your year as he keeps playing with your pussy, his fingers making you tingly and hot. "Such a good little whore for me"

You moan an agreement even if you don't know exactly what he's talking about, just wanting to make him happy.

"You know, mom wanted to send me away because she thought I might try to hurt you when we were kids, but I don't get it. I'd never hurt my little sis like that." You moan once again, bothered by the idea of your mother sending your big brother away, a possessiveness you didn't know it was possible passing through your heart with all the warmth of big bro's fingers as well.

"It feels so good, so warm, you could never hurt me"

Your brother chuckles.

"Get on all fours for me, love, I'll show you how much your big brother loves you."

It's now, you think mindlessly as you get on all fours as your brother ordered you, although you don't know exactly what you're talking about. Your body seems to know, though, and you can feel your pussy juices making your little holes and thighs wet and sticky, you can feel your little k!d cvnt throb, painfully... Empty?

You don't understand this feeling, but as your big brother gets behind you and you feel something brushing the entry of you hole, it doesn't matter anymore. You don't care that you don't understand, that you don't know anything, that you're being a dump empty-headed toy for your brother.

All that matter is your hole and how much you want it to be full.

And big bro obviously knows that, he knows you better than anyone.

"Awn, my little whore wants to get dicked down by her big brother's cock like the slut she is, doesn't she?" He says in a condescending tone as he pushes his wiener inside you. The feeling is so good you can barely breathe, his cock brushing every place inside you, rubbing every pleasure point you didn't even know existed.

"Big bro, please... I need more. More." You crie as he enters you in a punishing pace. You need to feel him entering you, pushing against your cervix even if you don't know how to say it.

"You're taking it like a fucking r@pedoll just for big bro, huh? Moaning and begging for cock like I always knew you would, you were made to take my cock." He says as he pounds into your pussy, your whole world focused on how good it feels, how wet you are, how you wish for more. "A fucking perfect r4pedoll for a perv brother like me, I was ready to pump you full of me for years now. If it wasn't for mom keeping me away from you, we could've be doing this for a lot longer, k!dd0"

You hate your mother, then, for keeping you away from this, from feeling so full, so good, so drunk in something you can barely remember your own name.

"But it's in the nature of a fucktoy to spread their legs and let their owners use them, right? That's why you cane here tonight, wasn't it?" He speeds up, groaning as he grabs your hair, pulling it rough.

You moan and thrash around him, needing it all, the feeling and warmth too much for you, sending you into an spiral.

"Gonna breed that pretty little k!dcvnt of yours, love, pump you full of my seed, make you pregnant with your brother's child. Then mom can never keep us apart again" you moan at the idea, blissfully pleasured at the thought of being bred by your big brother, of carrying his child when you're also a child.

"Yes, big brother, make your k!d sister round with your child, please" you finally find your voice, moaning so loud you'd be surprised if your neighbors haven't heard you, but you don't care.

All you care about is the cock stretching your pussy to its limits and then some.

The thought is enough to tip your brother over the edge and he cums hard inside you, pressing his balls to your tiny entrance like he wants them to enter you too, and the twitching of his cock inside you makes you cum, the cummies so strong you see white and all you hope is that big bro doesn't pull out.

That he decides to keep his cock in its home, warm and securing his seed in the place where they belong.

[buttdumplin]

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

CW: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

~

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

~

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

~

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

[leavesfallensparse]

Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 2

'I think I'll put you in another song, a little glimpse of you before you're gone.'

In which Sadie and Matty can't seem to get along at all. They refuse to see eye-to-eye, but Sadie is starting to find Matty's annoyed face a bit too hot. When faced with conversations about feelings, Sadie can't help but want to run away from it all.

warnings: implied alcoholism, implied panic attack (not in a written scene), smut (unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering), lots of arguing, they both just spew shite at each other <3.

word count: 6.7k

authors note: lalalalala sadie matty smut lalalalala. so what it's angry (lowkey heartbreaking) smut, its still smut. i rlly had fun writing this and i am sorry for the angst <3 (not rlly x)

Sadie doesn’t think she’s ever felt anger like she’s feeling right now. The band had just gotten back to their flat after one of their more hectic shows, and George had obviously had the smart idea to go out after said show. Sadie missed out on this night out, feeling like her body was about to collapse inwards, but when the band returned home, loudly, she woke up and immediately seethed. Her anger worsened when she fully woke, she knew what was going on in Matty’s room due to them sharing a wall. Cheap flat means paper thin walls. As each day passes the urge to ask George to switch rooms with her grows.

The pornographic moans and groans paired with the bedframe that is just about banging her bedroom wall down is enough to make Sadie roll out of bed and leave her room with a huff. She almost regrets it when she sees Ross and George basically rolling on the kitchen floor trying to put a frozen pizza in the oven, Adam was standing over the pair just laughing at them. Sadie smirks but then when she hears another bang of Matty’s bedframe come from behind her she mutters a string of angry swear words under her breath. “What does she look like this time?” Is the sentence Sadie uses to make her presence known to the three drunk men in the kitchen.

The boys all look up at her with grimaces on their faces which makes Sadie run a hand down her own, she knows they all want to say “You.” Which makes her reconsider her entire career. She is subjecting herself to something comparable to torture day in, day out. Ever since Sadie had started point blank refusing him sex he was acting crazy, actively seeking out girls who have something in common with her looks wise. She had only started closing herself off because the band was starting to gain traction and she didn’t want anything to end in a messy enough manner for them both to risk their careers. It seemed like a lost cause with the way they were both acting though.

“It’s okay though, we’re having a pizza party.” Ross had somehow manoeuvred from the floor to Sadie’s side, leaning his entire body weight on her. She grunted and moved so the pair of them were leaning on the counter, she looked in his eyes at his extremely slurred words and wondered how he could be this drunk after only being out for two and a half hours. She shook her head with a smirk and snatched the pizza from George, forgetting how much of his weight that Ross was putting on her until he keeled over onto the floor with a giggle.

“Oh my god, Ross.” George pretty much collapses on top of Ross in a fit of drunken giggles and Sadie busies herself with setting the timer on the oven. When she turns around, Adam is stood with his arms open, and she smiles up at him and accepts his invitation for a cuddle. He starts swaying the pair and she can’t help but breathe out a laugh at the song he’s attempting to sing, Sadie has no idea what song he’s actually trying to sing. She tries to pull away when he starts swaying a bit too hard but before she knows it the four of them are on the floor struggling to breathe through their laughs.

When they all sit down on the couch to indulge in their pizza, Sadie hears a door open and close from the hallway. She can’t help the way her eyes roll into her skull, and she suddenly doesn’t want to finish her plate. The way he gets a glass of water, silently, pisses her off beyond belief. He grabs a slice of their pizza and heads back to his room with the water, he notices the silence when he walks in, but he chooses to not make a petty comment. When his bedroom door practically slams shut, Sadie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was even holding in. “George, can I sleep in your room?” He nods with a mouthful of pizza and Sadie heads to her room to grab her water bottle.

Sadie can’t sleep for George’s excessive snoring, he always fucking snores when he’s drunk. She gets up to fill her already empty water bottle with a sigh, a chill comes over her body when she opens the bedroom door, she immediately connects the dots when she sees Matty hanging out the living room window, cig in hand. She sighs and turns her back on him, flipping the tap to cold and turning it on, she hears him clearing his throat behind her and has to stifle the groan trying to escape her lips. “Bored of your girlfriend in there?”

Matty’s chuckle tastes bitter on his tongue, he despises her immaturity sometimes. When he doesn’t reply, she turns to him and when he gestures her over with his head she sighs, she can’t say no to him, and she loathes it. Sitting down next to him she takes his offer of a cigarette, he also forces the glass of wine he’s cradling into her hand, which she happily downs. He looks at her, she looks out the window. “Can’t sleep?”

“George won’t stop fucking snoring.” Matty smiles at that and hands her his lighter. She hands it back and inhales deeply when her cigarette is lit. The silence between them is the calmest silence they’ve sat in for at least three months, anytime the two have been forced in a room alone the tension has been so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Probably due to the fact they’ve not had sex in three months either. She can’t help but study his face, she hasn’t properly taken him in for a while, she tends to avoid him whenever they aren’t shouting at each other’s faces. He looks exhausted, the way his eyes are heavy set into his face and his mouth is nearly permanently in a frown are the telltale signs, this makes her frown. She leans onto his shoulder and lowers her voice to a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“What? What for?” She shrugs and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, an attempt to protect her from the cold breeze wafting in through the open window. Hesitating slightly, he leans his head against hers, his lips meeting her messy hair before he does so. She sighs and shuffles a bit closer, having sat at a decent distance from him originally. “Nothing to be sorry for, Sades. I’m sorry.”

“Well, what are you sorry for?”

“I’m not sure either.” At his lack of attempt to actually apologise, she hums, nothing has changed. This conversation isn’t progress.

“I should go back to bed.” Sadie feels Matty’s head shake on top of hers and she snickers slightly, raising her head to face him. Their faces are much closer than they were before which makes Sadie’s heart pick up in pace ever so slightly. She pretends that it doesn’t though. He tries to sneak a glance down at her slightly dry lips, but her eager eyes notice, and she instinctively leans in, she swears she does it without realising. Before she knows it his lips are on hers and every argument they’ve had recently has flown out of her head, replaced by the way his hand feels when it falls to her bare thigh, practically coaxing the goosebumps out of her. Matty pulls away first and Sadie shakes her head. “We can’t. Shouldn’t.”

Silencing her with another kiss, a squeeze on her thigh, and his tongue against her lips, Matty groans into her mouth, begging to be let in. She denies him entrance until his other hand tugs lightly at her hair, drawing involuntary moans from her mouth, gaining him entrance. Readjusting so he’s no longer sitting cross legged on the windowsill Matty drags Sadie by the hips on to his lap. She feels so dirty, Matty had gone from being inside the girl in his bedroom two hours ago to making out with Sadie in the living room, but a sick part of her likes knowing that he’ll always come back to her. The same sick part of her grinds down into Matty’s growing erection, revelling in the way his head thumps against the window behind him. “Fuck, Sades.”

“Did that girl not do it for you? She might look like me, but I bet she doesn’t fuck like me, hmm?” Her hands find the seam of her pyjama top, but she quickly feels him swatting her hands away, wanting to take her top off himself. Doing so with fervour, his lips ghosting her nipples, blowing hot air over them and giving her reaction a sick smile. When his mouth closes around her nipple, a low groan ripples through her throat, she feels the need to get his clothes off of him as soon as possible. “Matty, please.”

“You’re filth. Desperate to fuck me when I’ve got a girl waiting for me.” Matty’s words hit Sadie right in her core, writhing on his lap, desperate for friction. The thin material of Matty’s boxers paired with the lacey material of Sadie’s panties was sending her wild, the feeling against her heat is delicious but she’s growing bored of it. He lifts his hips in a frenzy to rid himself of one of two clothing items keeping them apart, at the rapid friction Sadie moans loudly and squeezes her eyes closed. Letting out a dry laugh, Matty shifts her on his lap, her eyes cast down to his length and her hand automatically wrapped around it, like it was muscle memory. “No, need to be inside you. Won’t last long.”

Sadie feels like her lungs are being squeezed with how breathless she is, frantically shuffling her panties down her legs. Takes himself in one hand, Matty lines himself up and grabs one of Sadie’s hands with the other, she squeezes it as he pushes into her, a whine scraping the inside of her throat before tearing out of her mouth. Matty lets go of her hand and sticks two of his fingers into her open mouth, hissing at her, “You’ve got to be quiet, Sades.”

Whining around his fingers, Sadie bucks her hips into his harshly, Matty lets out a sound akin to a growl. She stops and raises an eyebrow at him, brutally shoving two fingers in his mouth. Feeling his mouth forming into a smirk around her fingers at her smug face, he starts fucking up into her to break her mean demeanour. The way her eyes roll into her head spurs him on, his pace relentless, his tongue licking up and down her fingers to match the pace of his savage thrusts. An urge to hear the noises that Matty clearly wants to make takes over Sadie’s brain, so she rips her fingers out of his mouth and sticks it on his knee behind her, leaning back in his lap to feel him hit her deeper inside. “Can fucking feel you squeezing me, so tight, missed this.”

The fake pout takes over her face without her permission, “Really meant it when you said you wouldn’t last long. Pathetic, I’m not even close.” She’s playing it up and he knows it from the way she tenses her thighs and squeezes his knee until her knuckles turn white. But Matty takes her words as the truth, holding himself off from finishing inside her, picking her up and throwing her onto the couch. Moaning at the way he man-handled her, Sadie can feel the loss of him inside her like he’d just ripped her arm from her torso, her blissed out face was quickly replaced by a glare at the two fingers re-entering her mouth, scowling as his hips snapped back into hers. When he leans down to give her neck an open-mouthed kiss, she snaps around his fingers, into his ear. “Fuck you.”

“I am.” The words uttered into her pliable skin make her arch her back into him. She hates the way he knows her body like he worships upon it everyday on the hour, almost as though he had studied her every atom under a microscope in a lab. Lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, she whimpers at the deeper angle, her walls flutter around him and she can feel the stutter of his hips. “Your filthy cunt is fucking sucking me in. You’re like some kind of witch. Come on, give it to me, Sades, fucking hell.” Staring down at the way a string of saliva connects her mouth to his fingers when he pulls them out at a tantalisingly slow pace gives him an idea. “Open your mouth.”

The compliant side of her does so immediately, moaning at the way his spit crawls down her tongue, he nods, she swallows. The wetness of his fingers immediately reaches between her folds and finds her clit, matching the pace of his persistent thrusts. Her left hand scrapes his spine and her right hand rips at his hair. She loathes the way his hands make her fold, feeling her climax take over her entire soul, her eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. “I fucking hate you so much.”

The tone in which she utters this word has him spilling inside her with a pained groan. The pair hold each other tightly as they both hit their peak, Sadie comes down almost immediately from the way Matty rides out his high inside her, she hisses from the overstimulation. “Fucking hell.” His body collapses on top of hers and she whines at the scraping feeling she feels inside. “Pull out, please.” A muttering of a few more swear words from her mouth pulls him from the cloud he’s found himself on, ripping himself from her. The boy inside of him peers down at the sight of his release spilling from her, she groans and steadies herself at the thought of standing up and cleaning herself up.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Her eyes fixate on the torn up skin of his back as he pulls his boxers back on and sneaks into the bathroom. When he emerges, he smirks at Sadie’s sleeping figure on the couch, her deep-set eyes gently fluttering as she gives in, her dark eyelashes resting upon the cheeks. The one word ringing in his mind, beautiful, is giving him a headache. He rubs at her bare thigh in a soft attempt to wake her up, between whispers of different variants of her name. “Just cleaning you up, darling.” She gently whines and rolls over.

“Why are you asleep on the couch?” George is hanging over her like a bad smell, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow, she groans and pushes his face away with a stretch. The sudden memories of the previous night climb into her brain and start to take over, sneaking a glance down, she smirks at the sight of the cushions propped up gently and her clothes on her body. The slight bliss that was beginning to take over her being is interrupted by an unrecognisable, shrill laugh at the kitchen island. George silently communicates at her to keep her mouth shut.

“Morning, Sades! Bacon roll?” At Matty’s chipper tone, George knows all he needs to know, cradling his forehead in his hand. She snorts and sits up, finally getting a look at the girl who was clearly not good enough for Matty. Sadie would describe the girl as ‘nice’, nothing more and nothing less. She looks nice. Matty doesn’t like nice. The other two boys are sat at the kitchen island too, stuffing bacon in their mouths like it’s going to make their hangovers magically disappear. Sadie circles round the couch to stand behind Ross, giving Matty a curt nod before sitting on the last spare seat, right next to this unknown girl.

“I’m Sadie. Who are you?” Adam covers his laugh with a cough, George groans into his hand, Ross is blissfully unaware, and Matty has to stop himself from whipping around to shout at the girl. The poor, innocent girl looks round at Sadie like she’d just shot her dog. A shit eating grin overtakes her mouth, smiling up at Matty as he places a bacon roll in front of her. “Thank you very much! Smells so good!” The tone of her voice makes Adam’s laugh finally escape his mouth, when Miss Unknown turns to him, brows furrowed, he panics.

“Oh, we have fun here.” Sadie opts for taking a bite so none of her laughter sneaks out. What a shit excuse, Adam.

“I’m Daisy, it’s, erm, nice to meet you?” No words. Sadie has no words. Daisy is basically Sadie rearranged. She politely nods at Daisy and turns to face forward in her seat, no longer wanting to interact with anyone. She feels a dull ache in her chest as she watches the way Matty talks to Daisy, a miniscule part of her brain is begging him to look at her. He doesn’t, instead turning back to the pan and humming a merry tune. Sadie is practically snarling at his back, knowing that her very nails have left marks on the hidden skin. That’s all it is. Hidden. Matty clearly has a sudden thought with the way his movements stop.

“Want any sauce, darling?” Sadie doesn’t know what happened, she’ll claim to have blacked out.

“No thanks, Matty.” Her eyes widen. Daisy nearly chokes on her breakfast, poor girl. As if on auto-pilot, Sadie’s feet drag her to her bedroom, completely abandoning her breakfast. She’s sure they all heard the scream she forced into her pillow.

The moon is the only thing lighting up Sadie’s room, the hopeful gleam staring right in her window. The Smashing Pumpkins ‘Oceania’ is humming into her ears as she edits a few photos from the night before, specifically avoiding the ones of Matty. A gentle knock on her door rips her from her daydream, pulling her eyes from the moon she murmurs a “Come in.”, shutting her laptop and turning round in her chair. But the sight of the man she’s avoiding draws a silent groan from her throat, she turns away.

“Hi. Can we talk?” He’s grovelling and she doesn’t know why. When met with silence he keeps talking. “We can’t keep dancing around this, it’s starting to hurt me. I can’t fucking look at you without wanting something from you, anything. I just want a sign of life, Sades.” She stares back out the window, wishing she lived in a house alone on the moon. But no, she’s here, face to face with everything wrong with her. All she knows how to do is shake her head.

“I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything to say to you.” The way he takes a deep breath as he sits down on her bed makes her panic a bit, she knows that he’s about to hurt her feelings. It was just the honest truth, she didn’t have anything to say to him, what words could possibly come out of her mouth that he’d want to hear. Not a single thought in her head is something that should be said out loud to him.

“No, Sadie. What do you want from me? I am fucking sick of you, the sight of you, the way you’ll speak to the boys with no fucking malice in your tone, what did I do to you? And, what? Every two months you want me to fuck you and have it not mean anything? I can’t stand to be in your fucking presence everyday anymore, it’s draining me.” She zones out slightly, trying to will the lump in her throat to go away. Nothing that he had said warrants tears because he is also telling the honest truth.

“We’ve ruined it. Been friends eight years and fucking ruined it.” Shaking her head with a wet laugh she lets it fall to rest on her knee, a single tear slipping out. “Can’t believe there was a time we got on. Now you’re just horrible to me.” Bitter laughter takes over her ears and another tear falls. And another. Lifting her head she writes down the words, ‘wishing you could forget the present you’re living in’, in the notebook on her desk. The notebook is just full of shit, mostly angry shit, recently.

“You’re the horrible one. One day someone snapped their fingers and you turned on me. I can’t fuck around with you anymore, you’ve changed, and it makes me sick. To my stomach. And calling me horrible? Whatever.”

“You’re still talking if you weren’t aware.”

“Yes I was. Wasn’t done either.” Standing up and gesturing wildly, his bitter tongue still talks. She’s reduced to a pile of sobs on her desk chair, just watching, unable to make it stop. “I also find it quite frankly hilarious that you’re the first one to tell people that I’m the ‘worst person you’ve ever met’, it wasn’t that when we were shagging everyday four years ago.” Sadie sniffs a laugh at this, he’s contradicting himself by saying ‘she’s changed’ one second, then referencing a time Sadie actually liked him. “Oh! Another thing, telling George that I’m the only one you don’t say ‘I love you’ to is so strange. I’d like an explanation.” Walking over to her until he’s hanging over her, she has to look up and face his snarl. “Why? Why don’t you love me. I think you do and you’re just fucking scared of me, pathetic, by the way. I think you realised years-”

She interrupts him, unable to control the angry scream ripping from the depths of her lungs. “Stop! Just fucking stop! Get the fuck away from me.” He stills and cocks an eyebrow. “GO.”

A slam of a door and tears coming out in screams is all that’s heard through the flat.

The next time Matty’s on stage doing what he loves, he isn’t sure he actually loves it anymore. He’s considering hiring a new photographer. Sadie’s been dancing round his feet all night, apparently unable to take a single photo of Matty, she’s taken more photos of Adam tonight than she probably ever has. The way in which he is performing is growing slightly more aggressive, standing on the stage, seething, unable to do anything about it. Could you imagine what the crowd would think if he started shouting at his photographer mid-show?

She smirks as she comes round the back to take a couple photos of George, he shakes his head at her, and she lets out a laugh. Shrugging her shoulders as if she’s done nothing wrong, she quickly realises that coming onto the stage to take photos was a mistake, Matty turns his back on the crowd briefly and whispers in her ear, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What? Nothing? My job.” Turning back to the crowd with a scoff he keeps singing, Sadie takes a couple photos of the view from the back of the stage, looking out into the mass of people, she smiles at her camera knowing it’ll be a good shot. Exiting the stage from the left hand side she takes a minute to look through a couple of the photos she’s taken as she sips from her water bottle. The events manager approaches her and smiles.

“Why aren’t you taking as many photos of Matty?” The way her sickly sweet voice punctures Sadie’s ears makes her cringe a little bit. But she hides it with a returned smile in her direction and turns her body slightly towards her. Taking in her professional outfit she hides a laugh, how she’s not sweating is one of the wonders of the world. The way she was very clearly flirting with Matty before the show had pissed her off and Sadie knew she was only asking because she wanted to see photos of Matty.

“Don’t worry about it.” Walking all the way to the back of the hall with no more words said, Sadie scoffs when she’s no longer in hearing distance. Shaking her head she snaps a few more pictures before heading back to the dressing rooms, hearing the band finish the show she busies herself with looking through photos. She likes to pretend she doesn’t exist after the boys finish a show, they also like to pretend she doesn’t exist, mostly high on adrenaline. Since people had started taking the band more seriously, the energy at their shows has increased tenfold. So has their egos but Sadie never makes comment on it. Hearing the stomps of Matty down the halls has her realising that pretending she doesn’t exist isn’t an option today.

“What the fuck was that? You’re embarrassing yourself.” Slamming the door behind him, leaving just the two of them in the dressing room, Sadie rolls her eyes. She watches on as he grabs a wine glass and pours from the bottle, he takes a sip and groans, shaking his head. When their eyes meet, Sadie curls into herself a bit, intimidated. “Just utterly pathetic.”

“What’s pathetic? Me not wanting to see your face? Did you forget the things you said to me? Or are you going to blame that as a ‘heat of the moment’ thing like you always do?” The slam of his glass on the table makes her jump and he turns to her with nothing but malice in his eyes.

“No, you should be able to hold a level of professionalism that allows you to do your job no matter how you actually feel, Sadie. You’ve always managed to photograph me even if I have been in the wrong, but not today. I’m calling you pathetic because I thought you were more mature than you actually are. Turns out I was fucking wrong, hmm?” Matty is leaning over her, pointing a finger down at her. She stands up to defend herself.

“Actually, I think that you speak to me like I’m a piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe and then expect me to carry myself professionally when in reality just the sight of your face makes me want to punch it. And oh, I’ll just carry on taking my silly little pictures and pretend you don’t come off that stage and hurt my feelings. Every. Single. Day.”

“Oh, I hurt your feelings? Fuck off, Sadie.” With this he leaves the dressing room and slams the door behind him so hard that Sadie sees the mirror on the wall shake a bit. She has to hold her laugh in when he comes back in for the bottle of wine. She really struggles to hold it back when George comes in and gives her a look like she’s dumb.

“What?” When George just laughs at her she laughs too. She grabs the second bottle of wine from the table and takes pleasure in drinking straight from it. “Genuinely what was I supposed to do? Let him keep treating me like this?” George leans onto her shoulder when he sits down, his voice is sympathetic, and Sadie is having none of it.

“You could’ve gone about it a bit nicer.”

“Why would I be ‘a bit nicer’ after all he’s done to me?”

“Yeah, you’re right, fuck him.” With that George takes the bottle and starts drinking from it too.

They’ve somehow ended up in a sleazy bar in Soho, they’d played just round the corner at some hall Sadie can’t remember to name. Matty’s still pissed, Sadie is very drunk, some would call this a recipe for disaster, George would call this a recipe for entertainment. Sadie has linked eyes with a notably cute guy a couple of times this evening, but she’s waiting for him to be the gentleman and make the first move to speak. As Adam stands up to get the next round she hears laughter from behind her and sees Matty flirting with some girl. She turns to Adam, “Get me a vodka shot, too.”

Adam really shouldn’t be encouraging her to drink anything that strong, but after clocking on to what Matty was doing he immediately adds it to the list of drinks he’s ordering. When it slides in front of her it’s down her throat practically before it’s even stopped sliding her direction. Ross grips her arm and laughs but she pays no mind to him, distracted by the bitter taste in her mouth, she’d be convinced the bitter taste wasn’t coming from the liquor. Eyeing the way Matty’s arm slings around the girl and his shoulders look slightly less tense she turns to search the crowd of people, looking for the guy who was eye-fucking her earlier. She leaps out the barstool when she sees him, throwing everything about wishing he was gentlemanly out the window. “Hi, I’m Sadie.”

“Theo, nice to meet you. I was gonna come over in a bit but here you are, like a dream in front of me.” Sadie laughs probably louder than she should’ve at this, hand coming down on his arm. At this Theo notices the lack of drink in her hand and rests a hand on her lower back, “Shall we go get you something to drink? On me, of course.” She lets him lead her back to all her friends, narrowly avoiding them as he leans over the bar to order her an espresso martini. She does not like espresso martinis.

“Thank you. I noticed your accent, Australian, right? What are you doing in England?” The small talk flows quite freely between the two as they exchange careers and anecdotes, Sadie finds it easy to talk to him. Not as easy as any of her actual friends but it’s good enough. She has to hold her breath anytime she takes a drink but they’re free, so she isn’t saying anything. Matty catches her eye for the first time since being distracted by the girl on his lap, when he catches a glimpse of the blonde boy standing next to her he shakes his head. She scowls at him and turns back to the boy, a bit closer than she was before.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe back to my hotel?” Sadie doesn’t really hear him, she sees Matty shaking her head at something the girl is saying and when she starts shouting at him Sadie knows he’d just been asked the same question she has. Matty makes fleeting eye contact with her, making a look that reads ‘I dare you’. Turning back to Theo she nods her head, smiling up at the smug look on his face, shoving his arm slightly. She finishes her drink with a slight gag and grips onto his arm as he leads her out the front.

“How far is your hotel?” She’d love to know why she feels guilty.

Sadie’s sitting on the doorstep to their flat building with mascara staining her cheeks. When she’d gotten back to Theo’s hotel she experienced something akin to a panic attack and basically ran out of there, he’d chased her just to make sure she was okay and when all she said was, “It isn’t your fault,” he knew that it was the other guy from the bar holding her back, the one from her friend group, “I just have to get back to my flat.”

Feeling nothing less than mortified, she couldn’t bring herself to go in, so she was sitting smoking on the doorstep with the entire evening playing on a loop in her head. Dropping her head to her knees with a sigh she let one more tear fall before putting out her cig with her shoe and opening the door behind her. When she opens the door to the flat she’s met with silence, unsure if anyone’s home until she hears George snoring and a strum of a guitar in the room next to hers. Upon realising he’s the only other person awake she admits defeat and heads to her own room.

After brushing her teeth in the bathroom and grabbing water and some painkillers from the kitchen, she opens her bedroom door to Matty standing, staring down at her. Shutting the door behind her she looks up at him with a fixed glare, silently wishing he’d brush past her and shut the door so she could sleep. But no, as she shuts the door behind her she finds herself slammed against it. “You’re so fucking pathetic, Sades.” It might be the slight buzz she still feels in her head, but his words paired with his hands on her hips hit her right in her core, feeling like her head is about to float right off her shoulders.

“Matty, you’re just here to fuck with my head.” She really tried to make her words believable but the way she trails off into a whine makes it seem quite the opposite. The way in which her body always reacts to him the way he wants will forever make her angry, staring up at him trying to keep her glare steady on her face. It proves hard when Matty’s face moves down to her neck, attacking it with his lips, practically taunting her by the way he leans back up to swallow the moan that leaves her mouth.

She fights her body, trying her hardest to not kiss him back, but the way his tongue is licking into her mouth makes her desperate for anything he’ll give her. “Think you can just go fuck anyone, hmm? You’re wrong, angel. Belong to me, don’t you?” The scowl that takes over her features makes him smirk down at her. “Pretty when you’re angry. Gonna let me show you who you belong to?” She doesn’t want to nod but of course her body is doing things without her brains consent. To be fair said brain is actively turning to mush and melting out of her ears.

“Matty, please. Hurting my head.” After a quick glance up from her neck, he realises she doesn’t mean that literally, but instead she means that his actions are confusing her. He’s too in the moment to care, dragging her to the bed to put her out of her misery. The feeling of the mattress on her back makes her sigh in pleasure, he smirks down at her, working his hands under her, way too big, jumper as he hovers over her, moving down at a teasingly slow pace. She writhes on the bed until his hands take a strong grip of her hips, dragging them to the bottom of the bed before holding her in place as he kisses from her knee to her thigh. “Fuck, why do you always come crawling back to me? Just told me you can’t fuck me anymore.”

“I can’t get enough.” Letting go of her hips to move her panties down her thighs, her hands whip to his hair as she feels a puff of cold air blown onto her clit, her heart stopping in her chest at the feeling. He growls into her dripping cunt, licking a stripe up it before feeling her thighs squeeze his face, moving his hands round them to keep them apart. “Be good. Keep quiet. Maybe I’ll let you cum.” The whine that leaves her mouth is involuntarily and goes against what he’d just said, she knows she’s fucking in for it now.

Lowering her voice to a whisper she leans up onto her elbows, “Matty, do something.” Brown eyes looking into her blue ones with a teasing glint he gives her another kitten lick and her elbows give out on her, back arching from the mattress. The teasing pace of his tongue is making the whole ‘keep quiet’ thing impossible for Sadie, her entire fist is in her mouth at this point and her brain is wondering where on earth he learned how to do this. Sure, he’s eaten her out many times before, but this is her first time realising how good at it he’d gotten. “Please, stop teasing.”

Humming into her wetness, he ponders on whether he should give her more or not. Does she deserve it? “Me stop teasing you? Oh, angel. Take your own advice.” Something about the way she whimpers spurs him on to, in fact, stop teasing. Giving in to her immediately, his tongue finds her clit and picks up the pace by the most miniscule amount. Unwrapping one of his hands from her thigh, his fingers find her entrance, ever teasing, but finding their way in after she hisses down at him to stop.

When he parts for a breather Sadie can see her slick on his chin and the sight brings out something carnal in her. She grabs his chin and pulls him up to her level, smashing their lips together as if they’re running out of time. Pulling away from her, Matty looks down at her, jaw slightly slack. “Like tasting yourself? What do you want, angel? Speak to me.” His digits still slipping deeper into her makes it incredibly difficult for her to formulate words, after whining at him and being met with a cocked eyebrow, she manages.

“Want you.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just fuck me, Matty.” He doesn’t relent. Hands speeding up, kisses draped across her neck, his other hand finding it’s way up her jumper, squeezing her tits. Determined to pull at least one orgasm from her before giving in to what she wants. He groans into her neck when he feels how tight she’s squeezing his two fingers. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Let go then, angel. Give it to me, all over my fingers, gonna make a mess?” Frantically nodding, she feels her brain fading away into nothingness before his lips wrap around hers. Laying still, not kissing back, her orgasm takes over her being, Matty practically chews her moans with his teeth as if they were tangible. With a whine she rips his hand from between her thighs and finally gives in to the feeling of his lips on hers, kissing back with fervour. He pulls away to glance at his fingers, smothered in her arousal, the sight alone would’ve made him hard if he wasn’t already. Opening her mouth without having to be told to, she takes his two fingers into her mouth, sucking tiredly at them. “You tired?” Taking his hand out of her mouth to hear her reply, he smiles down at her blown out pupils.

“Fuck me, please.” Sometimes she can’t help but make the same mistakes.

Sadie had woken up hours ago. Some sick part of her is forcing her to stay in bed, under his arms, in his t-shirt. There’s an air of domesticity surrounding the pair, the way his dark eyelashes flutter slightly in his sleep has Sadie enamoured. Silently wishing things could be easier, with a sigh. Her brain starts to ponder on where things went wrong, and who might’ve been at fault, when she didn’t like the conclusion she came to she shut her eyes. Matty must’ve felt the way her body shook slightly, waking up slowly with a long stretch. “What you crying for?”

“I don’t know.” He squeezes his arms slightly tighter around her and wipes a tear from her cheek, unable to stop the concerned expression from taking over his features. Rubbing a soothing hand down her back, he shushes her until she’s calm, looking down at her slightly with an encouraging glint in his eye. “I just feel shit about the point we’ve gotten to. Wish we were 16 again.”

“Angel, don’t feel shit. I’ve been a dick to you recently and I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to speak to you anymore.” Sadie nods against his arm at his words, the soft smile taking over his face makes her feel at home. He looks like he’s 18 again in the mornings. It makes Sadie feel a bit sick.

“I don’t know how to speak to you either. We’ve spent everyday together for as long as I can remember, but it’s like you changed without me realising.” Matty hanging off of every word she says enhances the sick feeling in her stomach and she looks away from him. Grabbing her water from the bedside table she cradles her headache with her other hand and hears Matty laughing at her from behind. Putting her water back down she hits his chest and stands up. “I can’t have this conversation with you. I think I need to fucking find my own place. Then Ross and Adam can actually have their own rooms instead of being forced to share. Think it would be best for everyone.” Being met with a head of curls frantically shaking, she sighs.

“You can’t.”

“I will. Watch me.”

[aohisworld]

YOON AOHI & her seven babygirls!

in other words, the evidence of ENHYPEN being babygirlified for Aohi! ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

poly!ot7 x addedmember!oc. — headcanons!

contains: babygirlism, some words of killing game characters, cringe writing lol

key: japanese - korean ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

EXHIBIT A, BAMBI's NAP:

¡! ❞ Heeseung and Aohi sat in their seats as they relaxed from performing their last show, to the back of them, Sunghoon and Jungwon entertained the camera that recorded their 'behind the scenes'.

Aohi ate her way into gaining more energy as she munched on ordered kimbap happily, her feet swinging together like a kid would with candy.

The video suddenly zooms into the munching girl, and Jungwon addresses her in the video.

(oh? what's going on in the background?)

"Heeseung-hyung is sleeping, while Aohi is eating.." Jungwon explains, pulling the camera from Sunghoon as he approaches the table, and the video is met with the scene of a sleeping Heeseung on Aohi's lap.

(he's knocked out cold ㅋㅋㅋ..)

"Hello.." Aohi spoke softly, covering her lips with her mouth as she still had some food in her mouth. She was a little shocked at the sudden arrival of her group members beside her, smiling nervously.

"Heeseung-hyung's absolutely knocked out..." Jungwon snickers, poking at the sleeping eldest on Aohi's lap. "We should draw on his face." Sunghoon suggests, instigating something he shouldn't, Jungwon agreeing.

(???)

"Aiya! Don't wake him!" Aohi whispered, slapping Jungwon's arm as she tries to protect the eldest ENHYPEN member from Sunghoon and Jungwon's terrorizing.

The two giggled like evil kids as Aohi continues to slap away the hands that kept trying to poke Heeseung, but she could only do much with one hand as the other was holding utensils to eat her food.

(protector mode on!)

"Eung..." Heeseung nods off in his sleep as his eyes slightly open at the commotion.

Aohi clicks her tongue when she realizes the two boys were successful at ruining the eldest's nap, she glares up at them, like a mother cat would to strays who nitpicked on her kittens.

Suddenly Jungwon and Sunghoon sweatdrops at Aohi's expression, they knew they went too far when Aohi clicks her tongue, a warning not to test her patience any further.

(Jungwon & Sunghoon: ^^")

"Ah, let's go bother someone else." The two troublemakers make a dash for it before Aohi could scold them or even think about getting angry at them, running off with their tails tucked between their legs.

The last of the clip shows Aohi in the background running her hand through Heeseung's hair, trying to lull him back to sleep.

A few seconds is shown to see Heeseung looking up at her with his sleepy bambi eyes, effectively getting her to smile.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

EXHIBIT B, AOHI'S MINI GAMING LESSON:

¡! ❞ The vlog was supposed to be peaceful, Heeseung and Aohi decided to spend some time at a gaming cafe, the aoheung content was thriving and the gaming was a win streak all around.

Until it came to Valorant. Heeseung should've known they were going to be playing her favourite game, and with Ni-ki and Sunoo, no less.

See, Heeseung is good at games, don't get him wrong, but he's never played Valorant before.

(pew pew! Heeseung tries valorant!)

Now that he's being vlogged by Aohi and her gaming minions, his dignity as her boyfriend, the eldest of enhypen, AND as the main gamer of the group were all on the line.

"Hyung! Behind- behind!" Sunoo screeched as he watched Heeseung whiff his shots on to the enemy Reyna. Heeseung just puts his head in his hands as he laughs away his failure.

Aohi could be heard having an ugly laugh as she and Ni-ki watch from their own computers.

(Enhypen loses their first valorant game....)

"Aishhh... I can't teach this hyung!" Sunoo complains as he mirrors Heeseung's actions, a small pout on his face. "It's his first game! Cut him some slack!" Aohi spoke in between her laughs.

Aohi moves towards Heeseung's computer and fixes his settings, trying to give the deer-like member some comfort when playing. "Here, try my settings."

(Mother bat helps bambi!)

Heeseung fixes his posture in his chair as they queue another game, instantly being put into a swiftplay. "You should try Phoenix, oppa, you can heal." Aohi suggests, adjusting the headphones on her head.

"Eung.." Heeseung mumbled, picking a pepero stick from the various snacks they brought to munch on.

They lock in their characters, Sunoo locks in Gekko, wwhile Ri-ki and Aohi lock in Sage and Jett, and Heeseung takes Aohi's advice, locking Phoenix in.

(will this game be a win?)

"I got a kill!" Heeseung announces, a giddy grin on his face, and a compliment from Aohi follows. "Hyung, you're so lucky- Aohi-noona doesn't give me any whenever I clutch for her." Ri-ki complains from beside him.

"You're literally immortal, you don't need any more of an ego boost." Aohi replied, her gaze focused on her computer as she tries to kill off an enemy Yoru.

"Aohi! Heal me!" Sunoo spoke, a giggle leaving his lips when Aohi is stuck between two enemies and he watches from his screen as Aohi died healing Sunoo.

"Yah! You just watched me die!" Aohi complained, but at the end, laughing with Sunoo.

The quadruplet gaming group continued to play for a few more rounds, and it came to a 4-3 game, one more round to them for a win.

(Heeseung's the only one alive!)

Aohi groans as she's double peeked by the enemy Sage and Sova, pouting her lips as she watches Heeseung's play.

Ri-ki tries to scare away Heeseung's focus by jumping at him, getting complaints from the eldest as he tries to clutch the last round. "He's not going to get this-"

"Don't be so pessimistic!" Aohi quickly shuts Ri-ki's teasing down, the baby duck pouting in his seat in return.

Heeseung watches his map and his line of sight as the enemy Sage peeks him, giving him a free one vs. one to win. "Nice!" Sunoo and Aohi spoke, after he successfully downs her.

"Sova last elbow!" Ri-ki comms to him, out of his seat as he watches from Heeseung's own monitor.

(The valorant trio is quiet, watching bambi...)

Sova peeks Heeseung from his corner, and by a stroke of luck, Heeseung manages to flick a win for the trio. Sunoo and Aohi jump out of their chairs with a yell as Ri-ki holds his head in shock.

The victory screen is shown after Heeseung defuses the spike, Aohi taking it as an opportunity to shower the eldest in compliments.

"Daebak! I didn't think you would clutch since you're so new!" Aohi pats at the boy, him grinning at Aohi and absolutely relishing in her words. "Did I make you proud, batsy?" Heeseung grins as he asks for reassurance from their female member.

"Eung! Did so good!"

Heeseung turns evilly at Sunoo and Ri-ki, who looked at him with jealousy as Aohi continues to shower their bambi member with praises.

He almost had the feeling of blowing a raspberry at the younger members, but since he was so nice, he just turns to Aohi, happily sucking up to her.

It was a successful game for ENHYPEN.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ comments:

user: ㅋㅋㅋ, is Jungwon the mother cat or is it Aohi rlly?

user2: I don't know if I wanna be heeseung or aohi, to sleep or to be slept on? that is the question ~

user3: ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

user4: pt. 1 of heeseung babygirling in front of aohi for attention

user5: alt exhibit title: mother cat swats at kittens for disturbing their eldest hahah

user6: aohi must be scary when shes angry, look at how quick hoon and won ran *cry emoji*

user7: my mom does the same stare to me and my siblings when we misbehave ㅋㅋㅋ aohi def has little siblings

user8: waahh... Aohi is so god at gaming, no wonder she and heeseung get along so well ~

user9: heeseung looking to Aohi for more compliments during the gaming vlog cry cry cry

user10: get you a guy who looks at you for compliments like heeseung does to aohi

user11: Not heeseung looking evilly at Sunoo and Ri-ki when he got aohi's attention LMAO

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

EXHIBIT C, JAY's SMALL FASHION CRISIS:

¡! ❞ Jay was struggling to pick an outfit backstage for him to wear, complaining to a nonchalant Aohi who was doing a mukbang live on weverse for engenes.

“Oppa, how about this, why don’t you just wear something comfortable and cute at the same time?-“ Aohi chewed through her words, her chopsticks stuck into a ramyeon bowl.

(Aohi enjoying her ramyeon in the back ^^)

“Eung, you’re complaining about nothing..” Heeseung brought his two cents in, earning a ‘no one asked, hyung!’ From Jay.

Aohi turns to him, a tilt to her head. “Ah, you know what you should wear, oppa? That one pink cardigan everybody liked during the valentine’s live.” Aohi nodded her head, agreeing with her own opinion.

"Can we even wear the same outfits?" Jay grumbled, taking the pink cardigan out and patting it of imaginary dust, he tests the material to see if anything's wrong with it, before deeming it wearable.

"Jeongie, fast fashion is overrated, wear the same outfit because it's not like they'll care much!" Aohi whines, annoyed at being unable to eat her food in peace.

Jay turns to the dressing room, closing the door so he could change. With this, Aohi returns to her food, which has cooled down as she spoke to her fashionista boyfriend.

"Do you see this, engenes? They won't leave me alone, ever!" Aohi spoke towards the camera, a small playful eyeroll as she finally takes a bite of her ramyeon.

Aohi's food heaven only lasts for a few minutes as she is called by Jay again, this time, she still had ramyeon in her mouth, she couldn't even bite off before Jay called for her once again.

(fashion crisis Jay returns!!)

She turns with an eyebrow raised to look at Jay, who snorted at the way she looked, Aohi bites down on her ramyeon as she starts to scold Jay for laughing when he was bothering her first.

"Yah! Stop laughing at me! I'm hungry and you're taking away from my food time!" Aohi glared as she watched Jay double back in laughter. "I'm sorry!" Jay apologized behind his laughs.

"Go look for someone else to bother if you're gonna laugh like that!" Aohi snarked, completely over it as she returned her attention to her food once again, this time not listening to Jay's calls.

"Aohi-san..." Jay called sadly, trying to aegyo his way to get Aohi's gaze on him again. "It's pink or nothing, Park Jjongseong!" Aohi stood her ground, Heeseung laughing at Jay in the background.

Jay frowns at the call of his full name in front of engenes, he was being scolded in front of their fans!

(black cat sulking)

"Okay! okay!" Jay spoke, finally stopping his own rambling and sitting next to Aohi with a soft frown. The girl glances at Jay, continuing to speak to the engenes. "Anyways, Ri-ki's out with Jake-oppa and Sunghoon-oppa, so I'm hoping they bring me an ice cream or something-"

Que a sulking Jay laying over Aohi with a frown, "Yah! My hair's going to dip into my broth!"

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

EXHIBIT D, JAY's BIRTHDAY LIVE:

¡! ❞ Jay sat in his seat his feet unable to still underneath the table. A small cat cake sat in front of him alongside black cat decorations. "Hello, everyone.." Jay greets the engenes with a gentle smile.

Despite it being his birthday today, he felt really sad since Aohi couldn't hang out with him, her saying something about a busy schedule.

And who wants to spend a birthday without their girlfriend?

(is our black cat sad? ㅎㅎㅎ)

"How was my day? Mm, really good, the members greeted me... Jungwon got me a gift-" Jay pulled the gift-bag from the side to show the camera. "Am I sad that Aohi didn't give me a gift?" Jay reads, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second.

"No! She's busy, so, I don't mind!"

(oh he's secretly sulking, definitely)

"Yah! It's my birthday, stop teasing me!" Jay scolds his live, a small frown on his face as the chat giggles over his annoyed features.

"It's okay because the other members and the staff did this for me so, I already got so much-" — "Aohi prepared this for you, not us."

Jay looked up at the staff, alarmed by what she said, "What?" He clarifies, wondering if what the staff said was right.

"Aohi baked the cake, and she put up the decorations, we just helped.." The staff behind the camera shrugged, and with the fact that Aohi set up the live for him, Jay couldn't hide his smile.

(his instant smile! too bright!)

All of the sudden, Jay was injected with a burst of energy as he happily looks around the setup, that he knew now, Aohi made, despite being busy, for him.

"Oh, well- Let's try the cake then!" Jay clapped his hands as he grabbed a pair of chopsticks off-screen, ready to taste the cake Aohi made, totally because he was hungry and not in any way because Aohi made his cake.

"ㅋㅋㅋ, you started to smile because you figured out Aohi set it up for you-" A staff teases Jay from behind, and he couldn't do anything but smile guiltily as he takes a bite of the cake. It was in his favourite flavour.

(happy cat =^∇^*)

"Aohi-ssi also got you a gift.."

"Where?! I'll open it now!"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ comments:

user: Jay, you absolute babygirl for Aohi

user2: did anyone notice the way Jay called for Aohi in Japanese? I stan a multilingual sulking king!

user3: how does Aohi handle them *cry emoji* I think I’d be more than annoyed when I’m trying to eat huhuhu

user4: I’d like to thank Aohi for urging Jay to wear his pink cardigan again, really accents his babygirlism ㅋㅋㅋ

user5: Jay usually -> 😐 Jay when Aohi -> 🤭

user6: is this compilation of Aohi’s babygirls or is this her scolding the boys ㅋㅋ

user7: the way he instantly smiles when he finds out Aohi set up his live for him and not the staff 🫶

user8: oh park jjongseong how lucky you are to have aohi

user9: where to get an aohi?

user10: enhypen’s hubby and wifey fights and hubby goes giggly knowing wifey set his bday live up for him

user11: jaohi my roman empire 🫶

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

EXHIBIT E, JAKE's LITTLE PREDICAMENT:

¡! ❞ Jake swore he didn't mean for it to happen! He was talking with engenes who went to the event and when he looked away, the whole group was gone!

Now he sat here, absolutely lost. Various cameras and photographers called for his name, trying to get pictures of the idol as he tried not to panic at being by himself.

Jake tried to look for any signs of Aohi or the other members through the crowd, smiling softly when engenes would call his name. People filmed his lost puppy expression, giggling over the puppy-like behaviour.

(poor puppy is lost!)

Aohi was on the other side of the room, talking to a few guests with Ri-ki by her side, the boy was tall, making sure to cover Aohi well like a bodyguard.

"Ah, yes, we received the glasses well! The bags they came in were gorgeous, and I'm glad you chose us to help sponsor gentle monster." Aohi spoke happily to a sponsor, still unaware of Jake's small predicament.

Aohi smiled for pictures as she took some with guests at the event, giggling and conversing without a care in the world, it was only then, Ri-ki approached her and bent down to her ear.

"Noona, Jake-hyung's missing.."

(alarmed mama cat!)

"Where?" Aohi turned quickly, almost gaining whiplash at how fast she turned around. "What do mean he's gone, I thought he was following us?" Aohi whispered back, looking amongst the crowds for the humanified golden retriever.

"I swear we should put a leash on him! I literally look away for a few seconds and he gets lost!" Aohi sighs, turning around to the guests and saying her goodbyes as she goes to look for their elder member.

Jungwon joins them a little later, confused on the searching gazes the two held. "What are we looking for?" Jungwon asked, his hands instantly placing themselves on Aohi's back.

"More like who..- ouch! Noona!"

"Jake's not with us, and I have his phone so I can't call him.." Aohi mutters, showing Jungwon the black Samsung in her hand. Ri-ki shrugged at Jungwon's gaze turning to him, as if he doesn't know where Jake went either.

"Go look for him outside by the tables, I'll go search for him in here, call me if you find him!" Aohi ordered, quickly separating from her other two members, looking around.

(Will they find him?)

After a few moments of looking around for her puppy boyfriend, she spots a familiar blue dress shirt sitting down by an empty table as he desperately scanned the crowd, she assumed for her or the other members.

(She found him!)

"Jaeyunie!" Aohi called out, quickly walking to his side. Jake turns to the side and finds Aohi approaching his side, and his hearts feel a little lighter, sighing in relief at the sight of his girlfriend.

"Batsy..." Jake softly called out, opening his arms for Aohi to fill with her figure as his arms tightly wrapped themselves around her waist. "Oppa, where were you? We were so worried.." Aohi frowned, running her hand through his hair.

"I was talking to engenes, when I turned back you guys were gone.." Jake looked up at Aohi, mirroring her frown, but to her, he just looked like a kicked puppy.

"You be careful next time, I don't want to be in trouble with management.." Aohi scolded gently, flicking his forehead as a punishment, earning a small 'ouch!' from the boy.

"Now let go of me, before people see..." Aohi whispers, tapping on his wrapped arms. "If you promise we cuddle later?" Jake whispers back.

"Aish.." Aohi scrunched her nose, nodding at his words, and only then did Jake let go of her.

(the things she does for her boys...)

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

EXHIBIT F, JAKE"S FAILED PEPERO GIFT:

¡! ❞ "Aohi-ssi! Turn more to the side please!" The photographer called, gently urging her to turn to the left of her. Aohi obliges, giving her best smile.

The camera took a good video of Aohi posing for the photographer's camera, her familiar rockstar charm shining through her pictures.

It was the month of February, and with this month, comes a mountain of fanservice. In this case, Aohi and Xiulin's part of the valentine's day shoot.

(Waah! Aohi's so charming in school uniforms!)

Xiulin comes up to her with a soft smirk, Aohi takes notice of the girl's attire, instead of sporting a skirt like Aohi was, she wore pants and a uniform similar to the boys.

Aohi's jaw dropped, all the girl could express was betrayal. "Unnie! No fair, you get pants!" Aohi whined as soon as the shoot's been finished.

"Sucks to suck, Batsy." Xiulin teased, taking a lollipop, a supposed-to-be prop, and placed it in her mouth.

"Do you know how horrible this skirt is? It rides up like crazy!" Aohi huffs, crossing her arms as she is escorted off the set, presumably to relax. Xiulin shrugs and pulls her to the side of the camera, which were on both of them.

"Everyone, Aohi is complaining about wearing skirts rather than pants." Xiulin explains to the camera, letting Aohi defend herself for the engenes. "I hate skirts!" Aohi shakes her fists jokingly at the camera, Xiulin laughing with her.

Suddenly a puppy sneaks onto set with Aohi's favourite Pepero in hand, cookies-n'cream. Jake greets their staff politely, bowing and asking where Aohi was last.

He wanders the set, trying not to cause anything so that people wouldn't be disturbed while working. In the distance he spots Aohi and Xiulin, a small smile forming on his face.

(puppy spots relaxing cat!)

Jake maneuvers around staff to get to the girls, spotting the camera filming them, "Hello!" Jake greets the camera, his puppy smile instantly showing through.

"Jake-oppa, what are you doing here?" Aohi spoke in surprise, suddenly seeing him take a spot beside her and Xiulin. "I thought you had a separate shoot." Xiulin agreed, popping her lollipop out of her mouth.

"Aohi, this is for you, happy Pepero day!" Jake quickly pulled the box of Pepero out, smiling giddily when she gasps, taking the snack in her hand. "Thank you!"

Xiulin looks on the interaction with an unamused expression, not the slightest bit impressed at Jake's attempt at greeting Aohi with a singular box of Pepero.

(???)

"Why is it just one?" Xiulin asks, Jake immediately deadpanning towards Xiulin. "Xiulin." — "Jaeyun-hyung." Xiulin was afraid of no man!

"It's the thought that counts, unnie!" Aohi laughs as she watches Jake deflate at his failed attempt towards even using his hyung privileges into scaring Xiulin.

"So, do I think bigger than hyung too then?" Xiulin amusingly replies, nodding her head to now... noticeable basket of... Peperos... for Aohi, and what burns worse is that the tag obviously says from Xiulin-unnie.

(The EN- boys: 0 - Xiulin: 1)

Jake laughs his failure away as he squats down, his arms crossed as he rethinks his actions, he was just trying to impress his girlfriend by getting her, her favourite pepero!

"You'll get her next time, oppa..." Aohi attempts to console the sulking puppy on the floor as the camera captures everything, further embarrassing Jake even more.

Xiulin just walks away laughing, happily taking her win.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ comments:

user: huhu clingy puppy hates being alone without his members

user2: it’s starting to look like Aohi’s just taking care of her seven sons hahahah

user3: oh… gentle monster Jake… my love 🫶

user4: Aohi looks like a mafia’s wife and riki and jungwon’s her bodyguards ㅋㅋㅋ

user5: So Jake’s that type? (clingy hehe)

user6: wait he’s so cute like that

user7: Sim Jaeyun, the babygirl of the babygirls.

user8: not Xiulin outdoing Jake on Pepero day??

user9: someone save Jake from Xiulin she keeps bullying him

user10: Xiulin said Xiuhi >>> Aohyun ㅋㅋㅋ

user11: Xiulin’s afraid of NONE of her oppas 😭

EXHBIT G, ENHYPEN GAINS A NEW MAKNAE:

¡! ❞ Aohi couldn't stop staring at Sunghoon after his haircut, could you really blame her? They made him so adorable, especially with his cute brown and white long-sleeve, it almost felt like ENHYPEN had gone through another addition as she watches Sunghoon look through his magazine with gusto.

(mama cat is so proud of her baby cat..)

Aohi smiles as Sunghoon laughs at something Jay said, feeling her cheeks hurt at how amused she was of Sunghoon, 'did his cheeks get fatter? He has such a cute baby-face.' Aohi thought in her head.

To engenes, this little moment could be taken as either, as a mama cat looking at her kitten with endearment, or a girl being charmed by Sunghoon's boyish charms.

Unfortunately for her, Xiulin was highly observant. "Aohi, why do you keep staring at Sunghoon-hyung like that?" She exposes the girl, who is startled by the sudden attention. Aohi looks around with widened eyes when she sees the boys looking up at her, including Sunghoon.

Aohi could only look at Sunghoon for a few moments before a guilty smile rises, and she covers it with her hand as she turns away, her shoulders shaking as if she was laughing.

(Is she laughing at sunghoon?)

"What?" Sunghoon asked, looking at her bewildered, looking at his outfit and wondering if there was something on him, put on by the boys or stuck on by staff.

Aohi struggles to explain as she waves her hand through her laughs, trying to regain composure. The boys soon join as Aohi further struggles to get a hold of herself.

Xiulin scoffs jokingly as Aohi hits the girls shoulder, as if it would stop her from laughing. "Yah! Don't hit me, I didn't do anything!" She holds Aohi's arm.

"I'm so sorry!" Aohi cried, wiping her tears with her finger as small whimpers of laughing left her lip. "Hoon-oppa just looked so cute, and I couldn't stop staring-"

"I was so embarrassed that someone noticed, that I laughed!" Aohi explained, a small giddy grin is left on her face.

The boys laughed, pushing Sunghoon around to tease him for being cute. "Ey... Aohi thinks you're so cute, aegyo, do aegyo!" Heeseung teased behind him, patting his shoulder with a smirk.

(teasing brothers and shy sunghoon~)

"Ah... stop!" Sunghoon spoke, smiling behind his hand as he tried to hide away from the camera. "Don't tease him!" Aohi laughed, trying to pry the other oppas off of Sunghoon.

"Aish, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, oppa." Aohi giggled, patting the boy's hair before ruffling it, and Sunghoon makes a move to pull at Aohi's hands, his fangs flashing as he grins.

"Ah! No!" Aohi yelped, trying to pull away as Sunghoon tries to get her out of her seat.

(taking you down with me!)

"Guys, the interview!" Xiulin reminded them with a laugh, and the boys sit up quickly, Sunghoon is quick to let go, the remnants of their antics was a toothy grin. "Sorry! I forgot there was an interview!" Aohi laughed.

Aohi readjusts herself onto the chair, making sure she looked nice, before resuming with the interview.

The group quickly adjusts back to being professional, looking through their own magazines as Aohi is caught glancing over at Sunghoon for the rest of the video.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

EXHIBIT H, SUNGHOON IS NOT SLEEPING’S STRONGEST SOLDIER:

¡! ❞ Sunghoon hasn't been feeling the greatest, but he was subjected to a weverse live, so he couldn't rest yet. Sunghoon set up his phone, staff being by him to help place his phone into a holder.

"Can you get through thirty minutes, Sunghoon-ssi?" The staff asked, he looked towards them, debating whether or not to ask if he could cancel tonight's live.

Sunghoon then glances at the clock, it was five minutes until he had to start, and he knows some engenes probably anticipate a live to start. Sunghoon decides against disappointing their fans with no live, and stays quiet.

"Live starting!"

Sunghoon is alerted, trying not to doze off on the couch he sat on. The staff couldn't be even more worried that Sunghoon would fall asleep.

(Sleepy hoonie :( )

"Hi, Engenes!" Sunghoon softly greets, waving a tired arm at the camera, the comments filling up quickly. Sunghoon is energized for a little bit, trying to interact with fans to keep him from dozing off.

It helps for a little while, Sunghoon gets into a rhythm of asking questions to the live and answering a few questions as well.

"Where are the others?" Sunghoon reads, "The others are enjoying their free time before bed, Heeseung is gaming right now.." Sunghoon points behind him, trying to say that the eldest as rooming in the next hotel room to his.

"Aohi and Xiulin? I think they're having dinner, we shouldn't disturb them.." Sunghoon places a finger up to his lips, telling engenes to keep from bothering Aohi and Xiulin.

"Engene, what did you eat for dinner tonight?" Sunghoon yawns as soon as he asks that question, watching the chatroom zoom past with various questions, feeling his eyelids droop.

The staff member looked on with Sunghoon worriedly, they don't want to make any sign that they were in the room, and so their only bet was texting Aohi to come to the room, in case Sunghoon ends up falling asleep.

(Droop droop... eyelids are falling!)

Aohi manages to read the text on time, and she silently enters Sunghoon's and Jay's hotel room, seeing the youngest of the hyuppa line fighting for his life trying to stay awake.

She tiptoes to the scene, gently placing her hands on Sunghoon's shoulders, startling the boy awake for a little. "You scared me..." Aohi giggles at his reaction.

"Hello, engenes! How are we?" Aohi asks, walking around the couch to sit beside Sunghoon who honestly looked ready to let go and knock himself out.

(he can't hold on any longer..)

Aohi manages to get a few sentences out of Sunghoon, answering a few more questions before Aohi turns to Sunghoon, he looked desperate to just close his eyes.

"Want to sleep on my lap, oppa?" Aohi asked, patting her lap. Sunghoon looks to the staff member, who looked like she couldn't say no to Sunghoon's soft and tired pout.

The staff member allowed him to sleep, shooing him off with the flick of her hand as she went back on her phone, Sunghoon grinning happily at the greenlight to sleep.

"Sure, I need a nap.." Sunghoon jokes, even though it was true. Sunghoon lays on Aohi's lap, and instantly the girl's hand gravitates to his soft hair.

Aohi gently runs her fingers through the strands, her acrylic nails seems to lull Sunghoon to sleep. Soon enough, the chat was giggling over how Sunghoon quickly knocked out on Aohi's lap.

"Our penguin was really tired today, engenes.."

(sleep well, little penguin!)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ comments:

user: Aohi is every engene during the dicon interview because he looked extremely babygirl in that clip

user2: not hoon being teased by the rest of the hyuppa line 😭

user3: oh to be called cute by the Yoon Aohi 🫵

user4: ahh the way aohi looks at sunghoon ~ hes really her babygirl ㅎㅎㅎ

user5: Aohi notices so much about her members, I always notice her taking care of Riki but Sunghoon too?? 🥹

user6: I’m gonna need a girl who’ll put me to sleep like Aohi does for Sunghoon..

user7: is the massage that good Sunghoon 😞

user8: ㅋㅋㅋ I’m surprised they allowed Sunghoon to sleep on Aohi’s lap, they must’ve felt bad for tiring the poor boy out~

user9: move hoon it’s my turn with Aohi

user10: hoonaohi compilation next!!!

user11: sleep well indeed sunghoon!

EXHIBIT I, SUNOO’S EMOTIONAL MENT:

¡! ❞ Aohi’s favourite part of every concert is that everyone in the group gets to say something nice for the fans after the performance, and in this case, ENHYPEN had a concert in the Philippines, Aohi’s home.

Well, not that Japan isn’t her home either! She misses both homes just as much. Just, something about the air in the Philippines or just the memories that resurface when she steps back into the country makes her feel amazing.

Her favourite thing to do in the Philippines is obviously visit her old home while she has the time to do so, and it makes her happy that she could just relish in being home.

She wanted to mention that when she spoke, looking happily amongst the crowd of fans as each of the members did their moment of speaking, Jungwon going first.

“Aohi actually, speaks a lot about the Philippines,” Jungwon stops to let the translator do her job, “She gets really emotional when we get off the plane—“ Aohi pinches Jungwon gently, telling him to knock it off.

(fans awe at their playful banter..)

“It’s just a little nostalgic for me, that’s all!” The fans seem to scream encouragement to Aohi, she knows about how proud Filipino fans are of their celebrities internationally.

“I just have to say thank you, for letting us perform for you tonight, and we hope that you guys have a great experience, dancing and singing with us!” Jungwon bows as he finishes his ment, earning a gentle elbow from Aohi as she grins.

Jay seems to stop both of them by stepping in the middle, making Aohi pout now that she couldn’t annoy Jungwon, and vice versa.

(Enhypen’s cat line ㅋㅋㅋ)

“Sunoo-hyung, do you want to make a ment as well?” Jungwon spoke, tipping over to look at Sunoo from the end of the line.

Sunoo’s surprised for a little bit at the sudden mention, not having something in mind to talk about. “Ah? Ah!- Yes, uhm…”

Sunoo steps out, glancing towards Aohi, who discreetly sent him a thumbs up of encouragement.

"Well, I want to thank engenes for making the time to come see us..." Aohi claps along with the boys, who agree with Sunoo's words.

"and I'm really grateful that you guys could come to support us, even though we all have such busy lives, it means well that you guys make the time to show us your support, despite not knowing us well—"

Aohi puts her hand up to her lips as Sunoo's lips start to quiver, signaling, maybe a small emotional moment for the boy.

"Sunoo-hyung.. why're you crying?" Ri-ki spoke softly as Sunoo turns before he could even continue, trying to hand his hyung a towel to wipe his tears.

Aohi pouts softly at Sunoo's crying face, leaning back to see if he was okay, before she cuts the line and approached Sunoo with open arms, the boy instantly taking her hug.

"Aigoo-yah.... Sunoo-kun, crying already?" Aohi teased softly, and although Sunoo couldn't understand well, he laughed along with her words, knowing her intentions weren't ill.

"Sunoo-yah! You're just crying to get Aohi's attention!" Sunghoon tried to lighten the mood with the playful accusation, earning a 'no!' from said boy.

The other boys from the hyung line seemed to jump on the tease train as they try to back up Sunghoon, Sunoo smiling as he shook his head, the fans seem to scream in support of Sunghoon, as if trying to make Sunoo smile again.

"Yah! You T-types leave him alone!" Aohi shielded Sunoo from the hyung line, hugging him close and cradling his head with an angry pout, laughs could be heard from the crowd as Sunoo's is picked up by Aohi's mic.

(T-types ganging on the ENFP)

"Aish! We're supposed to be doing ments, get it together, kids!" Xiulin gently smacked Jay's and Heeseung's arms, inevitably ending the goofing session between the group members, a small aww resonated in the arena, enjoying the bickering between members.

Aohi smiled as the groups retained their line-up, but not before she pulls down her mic, covering Sunoo's mic, and putting her free hand up to whisper something in the boy's ear.

Sunoo smiled as he hears the words Aohi whispers, unable to keep his happiness to himself.

"Oppa, I'll be here whenever you cry, don't worry."

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

EXHIBIT J, SUNOO's DRESS UP:

¡! ❞ Sunoo and Jungwon were supposed to be the ones to take care of Jjaeyul and Ayun for the day, but in a last minute decision, Aohi was joining them.

Aohi and Sunoo stood together as Jungwon dribbled the stray basketball in the court. Aohi cheers when Jungwon gets it in, a huge smile on her face. "Waahhh, really good, wonie!"

(cheerleader batsy on call!)

Suddenly, a rumbling from behind the door is heard, and Jjaeyul and Ayun make their appearance, Aohi gasping as she made a wave at the kids, who also waved happily back.

"Hello!" Aohi greeted, bending down to get on the kids' level, Aohi was extremely great with kids, having two little siblings herself, she knew her ways around keeping toddlers happy.

The kids started to talk to the trio, trying to get comfortable with the presence of the new hyungs and unnie. "How old are you, unnie?" Jjaeyul asks, looking up at Aohi curiously. "How old am I? Unnie's twenty." Aohi explains, making a zero and a two with her fingers.

"What about the hyungs?" Jjaeyul asked, pointing at Jungwon and Sunoo, who were occupied with familiarizing themselves to Ayun.

Aohi gently takes Jjaeyul's hand in hers, making sure he doesn't point since it was awkward, "the hyung over there, Jungwon-hyung, is twenty, like me." Aohi points to her brown-haired boyfriend, who doesn't seem to hear Aohi talking about him.

Sunoo approaches the two, leaving Jungwon to play with Ayun at the moment. "Hi, Jjaeyul!" Sunoo cheerfully greets, squatting down to gently shake the toddler's hand.

"How old are you?" Jjaeyul is quick to investigate, looking at Sunoo with a curious look, same as Aohi. "Me? I'm twenty-one." Sunoo nods, and Jjaeyul is happy with his answer.

"You are one year older than Aohi-noona?" Jjaeyul asks, Sunoo nods to his questin. "Eung! Why?" Sunoo asks, "You like noona?" Jjaeyul asks, shocking Aohi and Sunoo, leading to a burst of laughter from the girl.

(Sunoo is exposed?!)

"I like Aohi, she is my group-mate." Sunoo replies, looking nervously at Jungwon and Aohi, Jungwon snorts as he overheard their conversation, and Aohi's losing it behind Sunoo.

"Ah... my mom's twenty-seven, and my dad is thirty!" Jjaeyul explains, absolutely oblivious to the reason why Aohi's dying of laughter and Jungwon was trying not to laugh from afar.

"Want to switch? I want to play with Jjaeyul.." Jungwon tries to salvage his hyung's dignity, switching from Jjaeyul to Ayun in hopes that Sunoo doesn't get asked anything embarrassing.

Aohi follows after Sunoo with a smile, shooting Jungwon a thankful glance, because if not for Jungwon switching, Jjaeyul was bound to ask another embarrassing question, and she wasn't sure she was going to survive another laughing attack.

(Jungwon switches teams, team sport!)

Aohi sits beside Sunoo as Ayun pulls out a small stylist kit, complete with nail polish and a working hairdryer. "Hi, Ayun!" Aohi greeted, an adoring smile on her face. Sunoo almost forgot why he was there for a moment, before following after Aohi's greeting.

"Let's paint some nails, Ayunnie!~" Aohi sing-songed, taking the bottle of yellow polish out of the bag, picking Ayun up and placing her in her lap as she puts her hands out, letting Ayun paint her bare nails.

"Waah, you're so good at this, Ayunnie~" Aohi encourages the little toddler in her lap, Sunoo watching with a soft smile from the side lines.

Despite Ayun's lack of perfection, Aohi is happy with her manicure from the little stylist.

(Aohi, Ayun's first satisfied customer!)

"You wanna do Sunoo-oppa's nails next?" Aohi asks, pointing at Sunoo, who nods, putting his hands out for Ayun to work on. The small girl was a little hesitant, before Aohi helps her to paint Sunoo's pinky.

"Wow, oppa looks so good in yellow, Ayun! Good job!" Aohi compliments, setting the stylist off in an energy boost as she's comfortable with continuing Sunoo's manicure.

"I love it, Ayun-ah! You did so well." Sunoo smiles down at his messily painted yellow nails, and stylist Ayun rummages in her bag to get her hairdryer, thinking of drying the polish.

"Are you going to dry our hands?" Aohi asks, pulling her hands back out for her to point her toy hairdryer on. "Woah! It actually works!" Sunoo spoke, placing his chin on Aohi's shoulder.

"Right? It's actually so cool, I might buy one for myself." Aohi jokes, letting Ayun finish her blow-drying service and looking at her now dry nails with a thankful smile. "Thank you, Ayunnie.." Aohi moves aside for Ayun to finish Sunoo's nails.

"Clip?" Ayun spoke, giving the clip to Aohi with one hand as she used her other to blow-dry Sunoo's nails. "For me?" Aohi clarified, pointing to herself, and when Ayun shakes her head, Aohi speaks again.

"For oppa?"

Ayun nods at her words, she was asking Aohi to put the clip on Sunoo since she had dry nails. "Ahh, I get it." Aohi turns to Sunoo as she fixes his hair for her to clip it nicely on Sunoo's head.

(dress-up victim #1, Kim Sunoo ㅋㅋㅋ)

Aohi giggles at the cute scene where Sunoo just has a plastic flower in his hair. "You look so pretty, oppa." Aohi teased, gently running his fingers through the side where the flower wasn't clipped.

Sunoo playfully rolls his eyes, turning to Ayun and leaning his head down, "Do you think I look pretty, Ayun-ah?" Sunoo grins when the toddler nods happily.

"Ayunnie, want to go inside so we can dress Sunoo-oppa in a princess dress?"

"No! The clip is enough!"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ comments:

user: Aohi is adorable! She cares so much for sunoo <3

user2: Sunoo’s babygirlism showing to Aohi ㅋㅋㅋ

user3: waahhh.. Aohi’s Sunoo’s protector ㅋㅋㅋ

user4: mama cat protecting sunoo from his teasing brothers hahaha

user5: they’re the cutest ship ever!!! sunoahi 🫶🫶🫶

user6: you know Aohi’s mad if she starts yelling at her oppas ㅋㅋㅋ

user7: Sunoo’s just relishing in Aohi’s attention huhuhu

user8: not aohi trying to put Sunoo in a princess dress lmao

user9: Aohi and Sunoo look like a Family with Ayun 🤭

user10: Aohi is trying to plot Sunoo into being a princess huhu

user11: they’re actually so cute together???? wish companies would let idols date :((

EXHIBIT K, JUNGWON’s FLOWER BOY ERA:

¡! ❞ Jungwon was supposed to go home after lunch, he was supposed to be at home, with Aohi preferably, and relaxing, maybe taking a nap with said girlfriend.

It didn’t seem like the case when the stylist brought on new clothes onto the set, matching clothes.

Aohi smiled at the pair of clothes, thinking it was adorable, she patted the fabric gently, looking over at Jungwon, who had furrowed eyebrows.

(angry cat)

‘Did he not like the outfits?..’ Aohi thought, dropping the fabric from her hands as she approached him. “Don’t like it?—“ Aohi asked, looking at the rack, then back at Jungwon.

“No… I just want to go home.” Jungwon replied, sighing, everyone around him could almost see a cat tail sway sadly while his ears folded down on himself.

“Ah…. Well! Tough it up, buttercup!” Aohi spoke in exaggerated English, patting the boy in the back in a loud manner.

“Ow!” Jungwon yelped as he rubbed his back, making Aohi laugh and rub his back.

“Are you guys done chatting over there yet?” The stylist spoke, looking over at the two cat-like members. “Eung! Coming!”

Aohi steps out of the dressing room, pulling at her skirt, despite it being over her knees. “I really hate skirts…” Aohi mumbled, scratching her head as she walks to the set of the last shoot (hopefully) of the day.

Jungwon’s sits by the stone cylinders by the set, waiting for Aohi so they could start their photoshoot.

He swings his legs around, a little stuck in his mind, whistling softly. “Jungwon-ssi!” The staff member called him over and Jungwon turns to the sound, Aohi had already been waiting for him with a pout.

Jungwon couldn’t help but smile at the pout, if he could, he would’ve already squished Aohi out of cuteness aggression.

(giddy cat ㅋㅋㅋ)

“We’re going to do the shoot in the flower field.” Aohi approached Jungwon and took his hand, and like it was reflex, she quickly intertwines her fingers with his.

To the staff, this was just natural group habits. If Aohi isn’t doing it, Sunghoon is to his other members, Jungwon does the same with Ri-ki like he’s a toddler about to get lost.

The photographer ushers the duo over, and Aohi is asked to sit down on the patch of grass. “Jungwon-ssi, I need you to lay on Aohi’s lap for this.”

Jungwon feels a little hesitant as Aohi grins, she was a naturally affectionate person, always locking pinkies with one of the boys, and if not, with Xiulin.

And since the boys and Aohi can barely show their affections without consequences, she takes what she can get, and one of her boyfriends laying on her lap? It’s practically a jackpot!

(happy aohi!)

Aohi pats her lap happily as Jungwon hesitates to lay down, fearing he might like it so much he wouldn’t want to leave her lap.

“Ey… how come Jungwon gets to lay on Aohi’s lap and I couldn’t even wrap my arm around her last time?” Jake complains from the side, a puppy-like pout.

“Shut it, dog-boy, they’re taking pictures right now.” Xiulin pulled Jake by the ear like a mother would. Jake let out yelps of complaint as he’s pulled away, Xiulin drowning out the boy’s cries.

(ㅋㅋㅋㅋ)

Aohi laughs at the sight, and the photographer takes a picture, and he smiles at the result. “Keep that smile, Aohi-ssi!” The photographer encouraged.

Jungwon could feel his cheeks warm up the more he stayed laying on Aohi’s lap, and it takes everything in his power not to cover his face.

“Won-ah, you look so red!” Aohi laughed, looking down at her lap as Jungwon let out groans of complaint.

“Don’t announce it! I know!” Jungwon replied. Aohi giggled, and she glanced to the side, a small patch of beautiful flowers bloomed beside of them.

Aohi makes a move to pluck a few out, before gently placing it in Jungwon’s hair. She seemed to be in her own little world as she showered her boyfriend in the orange flowers.

The staff makes a move to get their attention, seeing Jungwon and Aohi only looking at each other, and they worry that they forgot that they were in a shoot.

“Aohi-ssi!—“ The staff called, but the photographer stops them, camera in hand. “Don’t, they look really natural, this is perfect..” The photographer whispered, making sure he doesn’t bother the moment the two shared.

Aohi looks up after a while, seeing that the photographer was taking photos without telling them, and her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Were we still shooting?— I didn’t realize and I already covered Jungwon in flowers—“ Aohi looks down, and Jungwon’s hair was littered with a crown of flowers.

(Aohi’s flower boy..)

“We got our photos, Aohi-ssi, don’t worry!” The photographer reassures her, even walking up to her and showing her the shoots he had gotten.

“Wah! Jungwon-ah, you look so cute!”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

EXHIBIT L, THE STRAY CAT INCIDENT:

¡! ❞ See, when you put Aohi and Jungwon together, they’re the perfect cat duo. They’re both so cat-like that even Jay could sneeze at just the sight of them together.

The two didn’t mind being compared to cats though, because in all fairness they loved cats! Aohi even has some back home!

But they didn’t think it was so serious, especially on one night, where Jungwon and Aohi were making a secret vlog on their own.

“We’re going to get ice-cream, our manager doesn’t know we’re out to the convenience store—“ Aohi spoke softly, fixing her newly-cut bangs for their comeback.

“Aohi! Quickly!” Jungwon ushered as the two ran across the street, a laugh resonating from both of them.

Despite Jungwon’s leadership, with Aohi, it seemed that the girl resorted Jungwon to just a teenager doing teenager things.

(all for the ice cream?)

“Wah- I almost got ran over!-“ Aohi laughed, Jungwon scrunching his nose as he pushes against the girl’s head. “Don’t laugh about it, it was a serious situation!”

Aohi let out a yelp, rubbing the spot where Jungwon pushed. “This, engenes, is why Yang Jungwon is crazy.” Aohi points at Jungwon, who tries to grab the camera with a smile.

“Ah! No! Don’t take away my engenes!” Aohi cried out, running off where she ends up at the front of the No-staff ice cream store.

(arrived at your destination!)

“Won-ah, what are you getting?..” Aohi perched behind the boy, watching him look through the various kinds of ice cream. “Honestly I didn’t even know Korea had so much ice cream..” she mumbled.

“I’m going to get this ice cream!” Jungwon shows a strawberry Samanco to the camera. “Strawberry with chocolate!” Aohi recited a familiar sentence, pointing at the fish.

(Aohi’s aware of fandom jokes ㅋㅋㅋ)

“It doesn’t even have chocolate!” Jungwon laughed. “Still!” Aohi retorted, she hands off the camera to her boyfriend, wandering to look at the other types of ice creams the store had.

Jungwon points the camera at a shopping Aohi, an ice cream in hand. “Look how pretty she is, engenes.” He whispered to the camera, making sure the girl doesn’t hear.

“Aohi’s one of the prettiest girls in the world, don’t you all think?” Jungwon faces the camera, his lips curved in a cattish grin.

“Don’t think about marrying her though, she’s mine!” Jungwon joked, despite it actually being true, well— one in seventh of a fraction, true.

(Catwon protecting his cat wife)

“Wonnie, I’m done!” Aohi calls Jungwon over to the check-out machine, checking her ice-cream in. “You’re eating two?” Jungwon asked, seeing three ice-creams on the machine.

“I wanted to try the grape ice balls.” Aohi explained, showing him the package. Jungwon reads the content as he nods.

“Fair enough.” — “okay, I paid! Let’s go eat it at the park!” Aohi grabbed the bag and started to walk towards the door.

Jungwon walked faster in front of her to hold the door open. Anyone who watched the blog can see how Jungwon looked at Aohi like she was the love of his life.

Jungwon was always looking at Aohi that way, even if she doesn’t see it, and he can’t help it, even when the staff catch him.

Jungwon and Aohi continue to walk down the streets, and Aohi grabs for her screw-bar, opening it. “We’re not even at the park yet..”

“So? I have another one anyway, and i’m hungry!” Aohi took a small bite of her popsicle, Jungwon wincing.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

Aohi only grins, “I don’t have weak teeth like you, Mr. Yang.” Aohi teased, poking the boy’s shoulder. “Nobody bites ice-cream, Aohi!” Jungwon retaliates, although it is playful.

“Whatever you say, Jungwon.” Aohi calls him by his name, earning a complaint. “Yah!”

“Shh! It’s a stray cat!” Aohi shushed, seeing a calico emerge from the parks’ bushes. Aohi made a small ‘spspsps’ sound, trying to lure it towards them.

The cat approached Aohi, sniffing at her hand, Aohi only started to rub the cat when it deemed her worthy.

“I’m still allergic, you know.” Jungwon spoke from beside her, distancing a step away from Aohi continued to pet it with Gusto.

“Oh You’re adorable! You’re such a cute boy!” Aohi cooed, the stray cat meowing happily in return. “I wish I could take you home.”

“Nuh uh, you have me and Jay-hyung at home.” Jungwon sounded very adamant at keeping the stray cat at the park.

“But!-“ — “Nope!”

(Catwon intimidated by stray cat getting cat wife’s affection)

She pouts, standing up from her squat as Jungwon ushered her over, the stray cat meowing at the sudden absence of Aohi.

“Here, I have sanitizer.” Jungwon pulls Aohi away from the stray cat, pulling his hand sanitizer from his pocket.

“Yah! No! Kitty!” Aohi whined as she’s pulled away from the stray cat, who meowed after her.

(Don’t go!!!)

The stray cat follows the two, as seen from behind the cat duo. “Engenes! I tell you, he’s crazy!” Aohi spoke into the camera, a frown on her face.

“Yah! Stop following us!” Jungwon pointed at the cat from behind him, a meow of defiance being heard.

“C’mere my cat prince!” Aohi cooed at the stray cat. “Save me from Jungwon!”

(I’ll save you, meow!~)

“Okay, blog over, Aohi’s picked me over a stray cat!” Jungwon called out, Aohi yelling ‘no!’. “You’re such a jealous guy, won-ah, it was a cute cat.” Aohi flicked Jungwon’s ear, scolding him for taking her away from the stray cat.

“I’m cuter!” Aohi laughs at this retaliation, patting the huffing Jungwon as he had a frown on his lips, a furrowed brow and his hands balled up.

“Okay, okay— don’t be angry!” Aohi salvaged what she could before Jungwon could lash his leader anger onto Aohi.

“You’re the cutest cat, obviously! You big baby!”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ comments:

user: aigoo felinez 😭

user2: jungwon would probably let aohi do anything

user3: Jungwon: you can’t defeat me, I’m leader rest of ENHA: we have an Aohi!

user4: aohi-ssi! Where do you get your cat from?

user5: I want to make Jungwon a flower crown too ㅋㅋㅋ

user6: felinez duo huhuhu

user7: not an actual cat taking Aohi from Jungwon 🤭

user8: they really tried to get aohi into the cat distribution system

user9: jungwon sulking when his cat isn’t better than an actual cat

user10: aohi biting ice cream????

user11: this duo is so funny wth 😭

EXHIBIT M, RI-KI’s ANIMAL CROSSING EXPERIENCE:

¡! ❞ Ri-ki usually gamed when he got home from anything idol-related, and his favourite game to play was always roblox.

Don’t get Aohi wrong, roblox is a fun game, and she loves to somewhat… make fun of some kids (teenagers these days, huh?) but it gets boring sometimes.

And it’s not like they allow bullying on idol vlogs either, so they had to find a family-friendly game to play for their engenes!

So this was where Aohi tries to convince Ri-ki to play Animal Crossing: New Horizons with her.

“We can play minecraft—“ Ri-ki points to the Nintendo version of the block game, getting a complaint from Aohi.

“That’s literally Roblox but survival-based!” Aohi makes him put the packaging down, Ri-ki pouting his lips.

Aohi ignores the fact that it makes Ri-ki look like a little duckling as she scans through the games. “There’s nothing else to play! Let’s just get animal crossing and go!”

“No, please let’s look for something else!” Ri-ki begged, and it was like this for five minutes until Aohi grabs a game, specifically a Barbie game, and threatens the youngest with it.

“You either play this or animal crossing, our engenes are fine with whatever!” Aohi points the Barbie packaging at him, and he seems to sweat-drop.

(sulking duck)

“Okay, but I’m not going to like it.” Aohi turned her head to the other side, “you don’t have to like it, the engenes will enjoy it anyway.”

Ri-ki and Aohi soon get home from their nearest Game Woori, two staff members already waiting for them for the film.

“Ready? We have it all set up for you.” The staff member spoke, gently fixing Aohi’s hair with a clip. “Eung, ki-ah, hurry up!” She called from the bathroom, getting a response.

“I can’t rush going to the bathroom, you know that?” Ri-ki flicks Aohi’s nose, making her glare at him.

“I CaN’T RuSh goING to ThE BathrOOM, yoU KnoW That?” Aohi mocked, and Ri-ki stared, before he started to tickle her out of revenge. Aohi is quick to squeal as she shielded her sides.

“Stop it!” Aohi tried to defend herself, before the staff members broke up the two teens. “Noona started it!” Ri-ki pointed, a laugh leaving his lips when the staff members started to scold Aohi.

(Duck-ki remains victorious over bat-hi!)

“We’ll start soon, let’s get it running!” The staff member reminded, and Aohi actually started to take the vlog seriously.

“In three, two….” The staff used his hand to signal one, and the blog was off!

“Hello, engenes!” Aohi smiled and waved her hands towards the camera, Ri-ki joining with a smile of his own.

(naohi gaming session, start!)

“Ri-ki actually didn’t want to play animal crossing, and he actually wanted to play minecraft—“ Aohi spoke, turning her nintendo switch on, "But he's been playing roblox, and he needed a relaxing game."

"So, I already have my own island—" Aohi gets a complaint from the youngest, "How come you have an island already?—" Aohi clicks her tongue and turns to Ri-ki with an annoyed look.

"How much longer are you going to interrupt me?"

(Ri-ki sweat-drops...)

"Sorry, noona..." Ri-ki spoke from his seat, a giddy smile on his face when Aohi returns to her switch. "Anyways, we'll just set Ri-ki up, and then we can get him to start his island!"

Aohi and Ri-ki spent the next hour creating their islands, along with starting Ri-ki off, and Aohi is irked with his starter villagers, "Yah! No way you got Genji and Renee!" She looks at Ri-ki's switch with furrowed brows.

"Stay jealous!" Ri-ki laughed, pulling his switch away as Aohi pouted. "Whatever, just start your island already!"

The remaining time (edited by staff to be fifteen minutes most) ends with Ri-ki being forced to decorate his island by Aohi while she showed a tour of her own island.

"So, I kind of, tried to recreate my hometown back in Japan, thankfully there was a lot of items so I was able to—" Aohi is interrupted by a tap on the shoulder by Ri-ki.

“Noona, I finished.” Aohi looked at him with a blank look, it’s been twenty minutes. What could Ri-ki have possibly decorated in twenty minutes?

“What did you do?” Aohi cut straight to the chase, looking unamused, expecting a mess of random furniture strewn around the whole island.

“I did what you asked!” Ri-ki laughed, and Aohi wasn’t convinced. “You can’t of done much with twenty minutes.” Ri-ki just grinned and Aohi couldn’t feel any easier.

(mischievous grin ㅋㅋㅋ)

“Come visit, I’ll show you!”

Aohi prepared herself for the mess Ri-ki made, to her, it felt more like taking care of a toddler the way Ri-ki would do the childish things you’d see him do.

The switch started its transition while connecting her device to Ri-ki’s.

“Engenes, I’m really scared.” Aohi honestly stated, staring at the camera with a worried side eye.

(???)

“I haven’t even done anything?” Ri-ki complained, looking at her shocked. “That’s what makes it worse! You’re gonna do something!” Aohi whined, looking to the staff members for help as they stared back, shaking their head, amused.

“I actually did something nice though, really.” Ri-li greets Aohi’s avatar at the airport, “how do you get clothes like that?..” Ri-ki asked, looking at Aohi’s avatar, looking like her.

“Because I’m cool.” Aohi replied, “now show me what you did!”

Ri-ki runs through the island with Aohi, and as the girl continued to see more and more trees and natural land, Aohi starts to feel like she’s been bamboozled by Ri-ki.

“Did you lie to me?” — “no, just walk a little further!”

Aohi sighs and does what he says, walking up to find a small place where Ri-ki had made a small park like area, with a pond in the middle.

“Oh!- Wait!- you actually decorated something!” Aohi gasped, looking around at the flowers Ri-ki collected over his island. “Wah! It’s actually so pretty!”

(impressed bat-hi)

“Noona, read this part..” Ri-ki showed Aohi a sign at a bench by the middle of the park. “Why? What does it say?” Aohi’s avatar sits by the bench while she read the sign.

“‘Ri-ki loves Aohi-noona’—“ Aohi smiles as she reads the sign, feeling her cheeks warm at the digital confession.

Ri-ki smiles at Aohi’s blushing cheeks, and it takes him his entire patience and strength to not bring his hand up to pinch her cheek or smother her in a kiss.

“Yah!- corny, it’s so corny!” Aohi shooed it off by playfully scolding Ri-ki with his teenage confession, in animal crossing no less!

(duck-ki confession.. success??)

Ri-ki giggled as Aohi playfully hit him over the shoulder, telling him to knock it off— “Is that you saying no?” Ri-ki tilts his head.

Aohi takes this opportunity to look at the camera, “only Engenes have my heart!” She makes a heart shape with her hands, looking through the middle of it with a wink.

(heart attack!)

Ri-ki just smiles, knowing that behind this fan service, Aohi has long given her heart to him and his six hyungs.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

EXHIBIT N, AOHI’s LITTLE DUCKLING:

¡! ❞ ENHYPEN was given a week off to relax, and what better way to spend it if not to a small vacation? Aohi, Xiulin and the boys were brought to a small vacation house, where they were to spend the entirety of the week!

The group decided to travel by car, four members in each, Aohi being the extra inside of the hyung line's car

Aohi buzzed in her car seat happily, currently the passenger princess in Heeseung's Chevrolet Camaro. The group was fairly quiet, the car being filled of Aohi's music.

Aohi looked out the window, humming along with Basics by Twice, blasting on her side of the car.

"Aohi-yah, I'm opening the window." Heeseung announced, looking to his safety mirror before rolling down the passenger window, Aohi squeals at the sudden brush of air from the slight opening.

"My hair!" Aohi complained, holding her pins in place. The hyung line laughs at Aohi's pout, watching her fix her hair. "You look fine." Jay spoke, fixing her strands from the backseat.

(hairstylist Jay to the rescue!)

Heeseung spoke a soft apology, his eyes on the road. Aohi ruffled in the passenger seat. "Oppa, you have the seat warmer so high, are you trying to cook my butt?" Aohi grumbled, turning down the heat as she leaned back.

"Sorry, sorry!" Heeseung replied, soon enough the car arrived to the small vacation house, it was a beach house!

"Wah! Look at the beach!" Aohi enthusiastically pointed out the window, Heeseung parked the car and unlocked his seatbelt, doing the same for Aohi as he opened his driver's door.

Heeseung jogged from one side to the other, opening the door for her. "Thanks, seungie-ah." Aohi spoke, grabbing her stuff and getting out of her passenger seat.

(Heeseung's passenger princess treatment..)

"Hyung, you don't do that for us!" Sunghoon laughed, getting out after Jay, who was busy grabbing their stuff from the trunk.

Heeseung just shrugged at Sunghoon, closing the door when Aohi has walked away. "You have hands." And with that reply, Sunghoon sulks.

Aohi approaches the beach house, Xiulin and Sunoo calling after her. "Batsy! Wait up!" Xiulin called out, jogging up to her as Aohi opened the clear glass door. "You two are so fast!" Sunoo complained, joining the girls.

"Just excited is all, sorry, Sunoo-oppa." Aohi walked into the living room, gasping at the pretty interior, "Wah! It has a sun-roof!" Aohi pointed up at the ceiling.

"Oh now, we definitely have to take photos!" Sunoo gasped, Aohi agreeing with a squeal, the two jumped for joy like two high-schoolers at the mere thought of getting the perfect golden photos.

(photogenic duo jumps for joy!)

"Noona," Ri-ki emerged from the front entrance of the home, making a bee-line for Aohi, who turned around at the sound of him. "What's up, Ri-ki-san?" She instantly opens her arms for Ri-ki, the youngest happily taking his spot.

"I want to sleep." Ri-ki's muffled voice spoke, the mic he wore rubbing against Aohi's sweater. "Then sleep, you big duck." Aohi retorted.

"Puma! I'm a puma!" Ri-ki complained, pulling away with a pout, and Aohi laughs at the youngest's sulking behaviour. "You're still a baby-duck, don't get me started."

"Go join the others, guys! I have to cook!" Jay spoke, bringing the last of the bags inside the home. "I want to help!" Aohi raised her hand, following a grocery carrying Jay into the kitchen.

The film-camera zoomed in on Ri-ki, who seemed contemplate where to go, before turning to the kitchen and following after Aohi.

(Duck-ki follows after mama bat..)

"Yah! Go outside, I can't have three in the kitchen!" Jay tried to shoo Ri-ki away as soon as he appears by the hall of the kitchen from the living room.

"Did you follow me, ki-ah?" Aohi giggled, washing her hands as Ri-ki sat by the table in the kitchen. "I won't be in your way hyung, don't worry."

Ri-ki watched as Jay glanced at him with a distrustful look, before setting up his workspace. "Oppa, which veggie did you want me to cut again?" Aohi dried her hands as she pulls out a cutting board from seemingly nowhere.

Ri-ki peers from behind her, curious of what she was doing. "The potatoes, garlic and then just pluck the greens." Jay gently places three potatoes on her board, handing her a peeler.

(ENHYPEN's personal chefs, Aohi and Jay!)

"Are you sure you want to just watch me? Sunghoon and Jake-oppa are going swimming." Aohi looked out the window of the beach house, seeing the two hyungs ruffling around the shallow part of the waters.

Ri-ki just shakes his head. "I'll join later, I want to watch noona." Jay makes a side-eye, "Just Aohi? What about me?" He asks with a raised eyebrow. "You're not pretty enough." Ri-ki shrugged, and Jay scoffs.

"Wow, don't eat my food anymore, you hear?" Aohi laughs at Jay's and Ri-ki's playful conflict.

"As in to say! Hyung, you're too masculine and you're handsome, you know?" Ri-ki makes a smooth save, hoping to keep his Chef Jay privilege.

"Uh huh, thought so.." Jay spoke.

The trio continued to silently work. Aohi peeling potatoes and then cutting them. She finishes by placing the cubed potatoes into cold water, making sure they don't bruise over.

"I'll do the garlic, just finish the greens and then you can go, okay?" Jay patted Aohi's head gently, making her lean into his hand. "Eung!"

Ri-ki watched the interaction with puckered lips and squinted eyes, as if like a jealous duckling. "Aohi-noona, me too! Give me a headpat!" Ri-ki ordered, leaving his seat to approach the girl who was washing greens.

"What? Why? You didn't do anything-" Aohi looked over her shoulder. "I want one, anyway!" Aohi let out a huff, looking down at her greens. "Go ask Jay-oppa! I'm doing something!"

Ri-ki frowns at this, "I want one from you though." And at this, Aohi clicks her tongue. "Okay, just, let me finish washing and plucking this, and if you can wait, I'll give you a headpat." She compromises.

Ri-ki seemed to smile, satisfied with the deal, nodding softly and sitting back down. "I don't know how you handle him, he's so scary especially with his height." Aohi snorts at Jay's words, pushing her hips into his.

"he's just a big duck, that's all. We're talking about the same boy who can't sleep in a bed without someone being in it." Aohi replies, looking behind her to see Ri-ki playing on his phone.

(Clingy duck waits patiently for Aohi ㅋㅋㅋ)

"I guess you're right.." Jay looked along with Aohi, before turning back to cutting the carrots. "It makes it less scarier when we know he follows you around so much." Aohi gives Jay a side eye, before looking at the camera set up in the kitchen with a 'is he serious?' look.

Soon enough, Aohi finished with her kitchen tasks, cleaning her space. "I'm going to go join the oppas for swimming, do you need any more help?" Ahi asks Jay, who was stirring pasta sauce in a pan. "No, go have fun, batsy." Jay ushered her.

Aohi nods and places her stuff away to join Xiulin and the others on the beach. Ri-ki finally looks up from his phone to see Aohi leaving, and he silently leaves along with her.

"Ri-ki, are you good with shrimp?- Ri-ki?" Jay seems to ask into the air, turning to see the youngest was gone. "Seriously? He followed after Aohi?"

"Noona.." Ri-ki called after her, Aohi jumping as she walked down the wooden porch, looking behind her with a look of surprise. "Yah! Did you just follow after me in silence? How long have you been behind me?"

Ri-ki stayed quiet, his lips in a slight pout. "You said you'd give me a pat." He points to his head. "Aish..." Aohi clicks her tongue.

"Here, c'mon." Aohi ushers with a sigh, urging him to lean down as the camera catches the pat on camera. "You and your headpats, eung? The boys can't get one without you getting one, huh?" Aohi spoke, making a 'tsk, tsk' sound.

"You still spoil me though." a sigh leaves Aohi.

"You're right..."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ comments:

user1: not Aohi threatening Ri-ki with a barbie video game 😭

user2: I think Naohi is the cutest between all of them, Ri-ki can’t leave his noona alone ㅋㅋㅋ

user3: Ri-ki’s so cute making a pond for her in acnh — I hope he continues with his island for her

user4: Aohi’s going to be a good mother because she has seven boys following her everywhere huhuhu

user5: You’d think it would be the other way around but noo Aohi has these boys tripping over each other

user6: Aohi’s so cute taking care of Ri-ki, I want a headpat from her too!

user7: Ri-ki’s so real for confessing to Aohi, me too ri-ki me too

user8: “only engenes have my heart” oh Yoon Aohi, You’re for the ladies 😭

user9: ive never seen such a big guy follow after someone as small as Aohi— gives me whiplash

user10: the last scene is just Jaohi and their son, ri-ki ㅋㅋㅋ

user11: now, Aohi being babygirl for enhypen next!

bonus! EXHBIT O, AOHI’s CASE OF THE CLINGIES!

¡! ❞ The TV closes with a click, Aohi yawning. "I didn't think the boys were so clingy, that there was a compilation." She looks up at Xiulin, who had an arm around Aohi.

The two cuddled on the couch late at night, the boys already sleeping in their own respective rooms.

"I don't know how you never notice it, they're so clingy, I can't even get close to you without them being asleep or on the other side of the country." Xiulin snorted, patting Aohi's head.

"I guess it just feels normal, I'm surprised the fans don't really connect the dots." Aohi shrugs, tightening her arms around Xiulin as the older girl hums.

"I think some fans have, but then again, them saying anything is a reach because we can't date our group members." Xiulin replied, glancing down at Aohi, who sleepily stared at her with a soft smile.

"Why aren't you clingy with me, unnie?" Aohi asked softly, her eyelids drooping at the midnight fatigue hitting her. Xiulin laughs quietly at her question, her hand running themselves in the girl's dyed hair.

Aohi hums, "Why're you laughing?" Xiulin shakes her head, "I don't need to be clingy because you already cling to me first." Xiulin smiled, she ruffles her hair last minute as Aohi pulls away with a grin.

"Then I'll stop depending on unnie!" Xiulin playfully scoffs at the bold statement. "I doubt you'll last before I break." Aohi whines at her words, Xiulin never letting her win their playful banter.

"One day, I'll win over your arguments, unnie.." Xiulin shakes her head, "Sure, you can dream about it tonight." Aohi groans at her words, rolling around, as if playfully annoyed with Xiulin's smart remarks.

"It's late, we should head to sleep." Xiulin starts to move from her spot. "Nuh uh, I'm too tired to move to the bedroom, let's just sleep here." Aohi yawns, further proving her point.

"You're right," Xiulin sighs and lays back down on their couch, and Aohi happily takes her spot next to Xiulin, squishing against each other to fit the small space.

Xiulin closes the few lights on with a remote, and a small bit of shuffling is heard, Aohi trying to get comfortable, the two girls laid in the dark for a bit, a yawn leaving Aohi.

"Goodnight, unnie." — "Goodnight, my babygirl."

"Unnie!" — "Sleep!"

[newtonsheffield]

They’d shared a two minute conversation during which she’d managed to call him stupid a number of different times in an exciting variety of ways. And still, he’d found himself sat behind the typewriter (...) as he wrote about anything. But kindly it wasn’t about anything. Mostly it was about her, in some way or another. Or rather, the feeling of her.

THIS. This is so in line with the canon. I immediately thought of the scene during the conservatory ball. Kate gives her monologue, tearing Anthony to pieces and he is completely smitten with her from the get-go.

I bet he still has the initial pages written way back then. Maybe they even made it to Snow Filled Paper? But the originals are surely hidden in his desk: yellowed, crumpled and tattered, since Anthony has been rereading them all over again.

A version of some of them are in Snow Filled Paper but most of them are tucked away in Anthony’s desk drawer, folded and unfolded and tearing at the edges.

Anthony takes them out and reads them from time to time and Kate has no idea they even exist until they’re nearly two months into their relationship and she’s looking for something else in his desk. She finds them in an old tin from the Jane Austen Museum and it makes her chuckle as she opens it. It’s such an Anthony thing to own, and she can’t resist knowing what’s inside.

There’s a lot of things in there from there uni days actually, there’s a coaster with the mark of a beer bottle from the pub they used to go to with their friends and there’s a daisy chain that’s been pressed into a notebook that has Anthony’s thoughts in. She chuckled as she read

Grow moustache? Might look cultured and distinguished? Set me apart from D.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at the D printed there, trying to remember who that might have been. She moved on, unfolding one of the sheets of paper at the back and her heart stuttered in her chest.

It was about her, she was sure it was. She remembered the day he’d written about, when they’d met in the library to work on their assignment and her breath caught at the way he described it.

“Are you snooping?”

She dropped the paper in surprise looking up to see Anthony leaking against the doorway, sipping a cup of tea.

“Maybe a little?”

She held up the pages, “Did you really feel this way about me?”

Anthony groaned, leaning against the edge of the desk, “please don’t read that. I was still finding my style.”

“I like it.” She said gently, pressing her lips to his. “It’s very sweet.”

“I… Please don’t read too far. I think in that one I used the phrase Aphrodite would be a poor muse compared with her.”

Kate bit back a laugh, “I’m obsessed with this.”

“Is there anything I can do to convince you not to read it?” Anthony wiggled his eyebrows, “I’d be willing to show you just how close you are to Aphrodite.”

Kate hummed, tapping her finisher on her chin. “Tell me who D is? I don’t remember you being friends with a D in uni. But you fucking hate him.”

Anthony raised his eyebrows, “You don’t know a D from first year?”

It dawned on her and her mouth fell open with a gasp, “Oh you wanted to grow a moustache to set you apart from Dan?!”

He flushed, “He had a motorbike and I was jealous! He was dating my dream girl.”

“That’s very sweet.”

Anthony hummed, leaning into her, “Would the moustache have worked?”

Kate grimaced, “It would have set this timeline back at least 5 years. Now I might be into it.”

“Interesting.”

[toorumlk]

Hi I'm so freaking obsessed with your twitter.

Also what's your favorite Romione moment in the books and why?

ohohoho thank you, friend, i’m quite proud of some of the stuff i’ve posted on there B)

and as for my favourite romione moment in the books, when i read the question i first blanked out for a couple minutes, thinking of a bunch of smaller, sillier scenes. but then i remembered that i do have a favourite and it’s from chapter 11 of DH, when remus visited the trio at grimmauld place and filled them in on he goings on of the war -including the implementation of the muggle-born registry. ron’s response upon hearing this (after his immediate outrage) was

and it’s not just the hand holding and the “‘you won’t have a choice’ said Ron fiercely” that played out so vividly in my head like this:

but this scene demonstrates so perfectly the political weight of this pairing (muggleborn/blood traitor) which i think is the immovable narrative foundation of romione. all of their silly moments and idiosyncrasies aside, there is genuine narrative purpose behind this love. ron has always had an astute understanding of the blood supremacist politics of the wizarding world (need i remind that he was ready to curse shitco at the ripe age of 12 for calling hermione the in-universe slur) and just how wrong it is. ron is a pure-blood wizard and by design has so much privilege in this society bc of it, but by virtue of having parents like arthur and molly, he’s grown up knowing the importance of fighting against blood supremacist ideology. always.

so, after hearing about the completely horrifying muggleborn registry ("People won't let this happen," said Ron. "It is happening, Ron," said Lupin.), he immediately turns to his muggleborn best friend and love of his life and says “i’m making you a family member, i’m going to use the protection my family-name has and use it to protect you from the awful injustice of our situation, no you won’t have a choice but to let me help you”

i remember having such a… visceral reaction while reading this scene like holy shit .. these kids, THESE KIDS!!!!! this is the bone-marrow-deep love that makes me feel insane. this dynamic of the blood traitor/muggleborn always there, from CoS all the way to the epilogue. We get to see that romione is the story’s pure blood/muggleborn that finally made it (rip jily and tedromeda :(). we see it in hermione keeping her muggle last name after they get married (oh my god these two actually got married) and we also see it in the hyphenated Granger-Weasley (granger being first!) in their kids’ last names (oh my gof these two had TWO kids). they are a true symbol of change and progress in their world.

also this is one of those moments where i’m so glad that our only window to romiones relationship development is through harry’s narration because it so brilliantly shows the readers this blossoming love story instead of just telling us about it because harry obviously doesn’t have access to the inner thoughts of his two best friends, he can only witness them fall deeper in love. showing the audience acts of love is always more powerful and my god is this an act of showing your love to your beloved.

(and not to go on an unrelated tangent, but this is exactly why i could never ship my girl hermione w any DE or DE-adjacent character. no fucking way. not when the concept of a muggle-born registry exists in this universe, not when the antagonists in this story wish to eradicate people like her from their society. idk about the rest of y’all but im going to keep taking the narrative seriously bc the worldbuilding obviously has real world ties/implications and i like engaging with the canon. tangently to the tangent, i saw someone (a ron basher) on twitter say that ron, OUR RON FROM THE ABOVE EXCERPT, was “one bad day away from becoming a death eater” ohhhh ohhh i ought to beat you with sticks bc HUH? this is the same kid who said he would’ve boarded the train back to kings cross if he got sorted to slytherin, the house notorious for birthing DEs, at the tender age of 11)

anyways, all this to say is that romione is incredibly, realistically, materially romantic and i love them and i love their love <3

[unseemingowl]

Saga Anderson, and Nordic rep in Alan Wake 2

Early on in Saga Anderson’s exploration in Alan Wake 2, she runs into Ilmo Koskela. Fiercely proud of his Finnish heritage, Ilmo gregariously makes note of Saga’s Nordic sounding name and the familiar design of her knitted sweater. Perhaps a fellow Finn?

Alas no, Saga’s mom is Swedish she informs him. Immediately Ilmo’s face falls. I’m not sure if it’s actually just the animated character defaulting to his resting face, but either way the timing is too perfect. Cue uproarious laughter from me. People in the Nordics are on friendly terms of course, but we gotta have the tiniest bit of… scornfor each other. All in good fun of course. It’s traditional.

Now, I’m Danish, not Finnish, but still, I feel right at home in the towns of Bright Falls and Watery in Alan Wake 2. All of the little nods to Nordic culture and mindset feel so wonderfully familiar to me. The melancholia, the irreverent sense of humor, the affection for the Finnish and Swedish quirks of the characters. The game feels all the stronger in tone and narrative for Remedy embracing the Finnish roots of the studio.

Which is exactly why it sucks that I almost immediately saw the charm of those narrative decisions weaponised against Saga.

I first watched the scene between Ilmo and Saga on a lets play when I was trying to figure out if I should finally dip my toes into survival horror and buy the game. Delighted by the writing I took a look into the comments to see if people were vibing as hard with it as I was. They were. But I also saw a comment that made me frown.

Paraphrasing, it basically went, come on, like hell a guy like Ilmo would make the assumption that a black woman is Finnish. There are a multitude of reasons why I think that person was wrong, mainly that Nordic people love it when we run into each other in other countries, but it also just made me sad.

Saga being black does not negate her Swedish heritage. Formally, she is American, sure (I assume, not sure how that works in the US), but she’s raised by her single Swedish mom, of course she’s going to identify heavily with that part of her herself. It’s a profound and essential part of who she is.

But hey, I’m a white potato Dane, so I’m not gonna argue that I know much about the experience of being biracial. I’m gonna stick to what I know, which is that Saga is a very moving and beautiful example of something that I’m actually not used to seeing much of - a story about connecting with your Nordic heritage and roots. And it’s part of why I love her so much.

When Nordic people show up in big, international productions, it’s usually as Vikings, and sure, it’s fun to see our wild ancestors, but contemporary questions of Nordic identity and heritage is not something I often see explored. Not even in our own productions.

So much of Saga’s story is about family. Fighting for her current one, Logan and Casey (and sure, David too, lol), and rediscovering her first one. Tor and Odin.

Her discovering her ties to Tor and Odin is profoundly moving and made me teary-eyed several times over. And sure, a lot of those ties are fantastical in nature, but they still feel very much grounded - and what makes us Nordic if not the ties to our myths and legends that Tor and Odin have made themselves the living avatars of.

While Saga’s mom, Freya, had good reasons for leaving the Anderson seer magics behind, seeing them as part of what made her family fucked up, she also cut Saga off from the fullness of her capabilities. It is only through Saga reforming her family, healing its scars and fully embracing the Anderson heritage that she becomes as powerful a parautilitarian as she is at the end of the game. That’s beautiful.

And in fact I think Saga being black only deepens the richness of those themes rather than negate them or make them irrelevant. Because yes, Saga’s story would have been moving if she was a white character too, but I am very well aware that a lot of biracial people of Nordic ancestry can feel alienated from that part of themselves. Not least because questions of who gets to claim a Nordic heritage can get pretty ugly around here. There are most definitely people who share the racist mindset of that commentator. It adds an extra dimension. Which is why seeing Tor and Odin’s eagerness to claim Saga as part of the Anderson heritage is all the more moving. Through her magics, she’s just so obviously an Anderson, and they’re so damn proud to call her theirs and fight alongside her. Because they all got that wild Viking blood in them. They’re part of her and she’s part of them.

Roger Ebert, the film critic once called movies empathy machines. I think games, when they’re at their best, can be an even more intense variation of that. Which is exactly why it baffles me that some people can play through Alan Wake 2 and still think Saga is a stunt-woke character rather than someone fully and beautifully integrated in the narrative. A narrative which, at its most basic level – in my opinion – is about the mystical bonds we form with each other and the rest of the world through art and love and blood and family and heritage. All the great horror doesn’t negate that either, it amplifies it. Kind of like that clicker.

[watcherwiki]

Interviewer: So you've announced that you're doing your own streaming platform correct? What's going to change really you know? Ryan: For Ghost Files, I mean it's kind of the thing that's going to allow us to take bigger swings like we did this season, like going international, upgrading some of our kit, and just overall making the show better and more sustainable behind the scenes 'cuz it's a really hard show to make. And then as far as like other series it's going to allow us to make those a little bit better but also allow us to make new series in general, and also bring on new faces to the to the channel that we haven't previously been able to. YouTube is like a little bit of a harder place sometimes for that kind of content to survive…sometimes if something isn't getting the proper amount of views that it would need it wouldn't survive perhaps in that environment but on a different environment, perhaps our own platform, then maybe it will have a better chance and now that we have both it'll allow us to, I guess, really give everything a try. But really more than anything it's just about improving things across the board and then taking bigger risks on our shows.

Ryan & Shane Talk The Future of Ghost Files & Watcher Streaming Platform, posted on GAMINGbible, 25 April 2024

also included on the Watcher Collabs playlist

[valictini]

I'm just. Idk man.

Obviously they want us to trust that everything is okay behind the scene by bringing back Chayanne and Tallulah like "See? They're back! And theyre doing lore!! So dont worry!" And i want to believe that but I don't understand why they can't just. Make an official announcement. Not make people guess what they mean. Stop the entertainement train for 2 seconds to actually confirm that changes happened.

Why is the returning of previously unpaid employees with no actual confirmation that they are paid now treated like a fun lore moment? Why is every important decision always announced in such an indirect manner? Why do we have to guess their intentions and make a leap of faith every time something new happens?

I mean I know the answer, this is to keep the fans hooked, not reminding fans of the studio's mistakes and let the streamers who put all their eggs in the QSMP basket (ha) continue creating interesting content on the mostly empty server... but why does this take priority over contacting the people that were exploited?

They could have had both. They could have had this "the show must go on" attitude without ghosting all the victims. They could have tried to make it less public without relying on the fans'past attachment to the project to keep trusting them.

We are not privy to any detail, but if we had had confirmation from ex admins that they were being heard and would be solving things privately, i would have accepted it and trusted the process. But alas, that's not what happened... (maybe it's happening rn but our last update was apparently from sunnys admin 4 days ago saying that they had no update, so you know)

[ladyvialana]

Very much enjoyed the first season of The Dead Boy Detectives.

It was fun, with great characters, interesting storylines, good pacing, and a fantastic ability to balance light-hearted storytelling with some pretty fucked up content at times.

Episode 1 was a little clunky and exposition heavy, but it's only really in that first episode (unlike fucking Wednesday!) and it's pretty easy to look past once they get into the main story. The rest of the episodes are much smoother.

Character interactions are great and all of the characters feel rounded with an actual backstory that influences their interactions and distinct personalities and traits that affect their actions. They're not just plot devices or vehicles for narrative.

Before going into any more detail, I'll just say I really enjoyed it. It's probably not as sophisticated or polished writing or style-wise as The Sandman, but it's still a really good spin off. I'd almost put it in the same vein, tone-wise, as The Umbrella Academy, though perhaps not as irreverent. Much better than similar Netflix teen supernatural dramas like Wednesday or Sabrina (and probably more mature and sophisticated, storytelling-wise than those shows).

I really enjoyed it, am looking forward to/hoping for a second season, and will definitely be watching again.

*

More detailed spoilers under the cut for those interested in my opinions about a few specific storylines/characters/episodes:

*

SPOILERS:

I am honestly surprised we don't have more people hitting on Charles. He is genuinely charming and charismatic as well as kind of open and sincere. Like, Edwin's a standoffish Edwardian public school boy with weird interests and zero people skills. I adore him. But he has negative charisma, especially compared to Charles' eyeliner and grin. Like, why is everyone chasing after Edwin? It's a role reversal I can definitely get behind, but no one is trying to get up into Charles' personal space aside from Crystal? Really??? And even she probably wouldn't have gone for it if he hadn't made it obvious he was interested in her first. Like, I really do get what the writers were trying to go with here, but it's one of those choices that kind of stretch narrative believability a little.

In saying all of that, I'm kind of a sucker for queer pining arcs that could go either way. So the not-so-subtle reveal of Edwin's feelings was both beautiful and painful in the best ways.

Episode 7 was a highlight for me. I'd been waiting for the pay-off from Edwin's backstory and the hellfire sword hanging over his head. But the flashback to Charles' death was probably my favourite scene in the series. Everything about that episode was fantastic, from the tension to the individual mini character arcs in the episodes (Nico coming in clutch with her reading comprehension skills! Crystal finally kicking David's ass!), to the beautiful release of the confession in Hell. I loved all of the insight we got into all of the main characters, knowing the truth of the kind of people they are. Knowing that, yeah, these are all good people who would do anything to help, and who love fiercely. But also, that doing what you can for the people you love sometimes involves meat cleavers and Molotov cocktails.