#where i update by adding more words to the already existing chapter

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Angst, grief, sorrow, fighting.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels, here is the next chapter hehe, bit of a sad one but what do we expect from SF&A at this point? Lmaooo. I've almost completely finished writing the whole series, so updates may become more regular as I pump it all out for you. What a journey this has been! Enjoy <3

Chapter 92: Burn Together

To say that things went back to normal would be a farce.

It was all a farce. 

The fake smiles. The small nods. The words of affirmation and condemnation. The false sense of security and even falser acts of content. It was all wrong. It was all changed. And it was all too much.

You spend much of your days in the Garden, sat where you were usually seated, staring out at the water as you tried to uphold some sense of strength. Tried to show some vision of superiority and that the loss of the child was divine intervention. As though the anger and hurt had gone, as though the sadness and regret had left, because you knew it was for the better, or perhaps the Gods had told you so. 

Words came to you rarely as you began to shrink into yourself again, but with each shrinking moment came the bursting strikes of life. Not happiness or joy, not frustration or longing, pure and uncontested rage.

Rage that it happened.

Rage that he had done nothing.

Rage at your stupidity.

Rage at your desire for more.

Aemond did not try to pry words from you, nor did he even try to touch you. He simply let you exist around him, giving you the space to come to him when needed. Late at night, in the darkness of the chambers you would roll to face him, and the most bitter of sobs would leave your lips. 

At first Aemond had been uncertain, and stayed still amongst the sheets, unsure of whether or not to hold you or offer you support. But when you had rolled and pressed yourself into his side, his arms had curled around you in a way that felt natural, as though your body was made to fit between his in such a way, and let you cry against his chest. 

Your clothes, your maids noticed, had begun to wear large on you, finding that you had no want to eat nor any appetite to do so. Even with the gentle encouragement of them both, you still did not find the heart to do it, looking at the bowl of star fruit in front of you, stomach full of lead. 

But Aemond allowed you to do it. 

He allowed you to grieve, but at some point, everyone has their limit, and it seemed that tonight was the night for his. 

“You need to eat, Y/n. You need move past this grief. Do not let it consume you.” He implored, grasping at your cheeks.

You pulled away from him, looking up at him with a shaky lip, “Nothing you do will ever make this okay! Nothing you say will take away what you have already done, or what you are to do.”

“What are you talking about?” He questioned, deep lines in his brow.

“This! Us!” You broke, “All of it. It seems as though the Gods have destined us with nothing but pain and agony, and how much more must I bear? My heart cannot take it, Aemond.” A tear slid down your cheek, “I am tired, but more than this I am so alone. So very much alone even with you standing in front of me. Even as I can reach out and touch you with mine own hands. Even as you promise me sweet nothings, I know that it will never be enough to satiate the hungers of the punishments I will soon be lashed with.”

Aemond shook his head, stepping forward towards you again, “Do you think I am going to hurt you? I’m not going to punish you for losing the child. It was not your fault.”

A sob fell from your lips, “Then why do I feel one coming? Why do I always feel as though I am one hair away from your cruelty? We take one step forward together and five steps back. I have given you everything, and yet what do you give me? Nothing. You did nothing. You stood there and watched as I was brought before Aegon. What if it had been me? I thought it was going to be me! And you stood there like a craven and just watched.”

His violet eye blinked at you, the sapphire beside it, still.

You sucked in a breath again, “You watched as your precious wife, the mother to your child, was brought to the throne by force. You watched as Aegon threatened to take my tongue. And what did you do, Aem? You stood there and did fucking nothing!” Anger rose within you, bubbling viciously beneath your skin, “You stood there like a craven as your brother accused me of treason! Your wife! Your supposed love! Your one childhood companion who did nothing but defend you, no matter the odds or punishment! It has always been me. I have been the only one to ever love you. The only one to ever care. The only one to ever defend you. How many times did I do that for you? From the training yard, to the dragon pit, to the Sept. And when the time came for you to defend my honour, you were that same, scared little boy who would hide in the tunnels after his brother would tease him.” Heat rose on your cheeks as you looked at your uncle, his face stern and his eye narrowed.

"You expected me to do what?" Aemond snapped, "What did you expect me to do in that moment? I was not even told you were being brought to the chambers. I could not have possibly done anything that would not have made it worse. If Aegon had seen me react, he would have delighted in the sight and been moved to do more."

You scoffed, “I am burdened with being wed to a coward who hides behind the illusion of duty. A man who cannot even stand up to his drunken, pathetic, whoring brother.” You forced out a humourless laugh, watching as Aemond became irritated, “My husband who rides the largest dragon in the world, my husband who is a skilled warrior; sits and waits to be told what to do like a dog. Doing everyone else’s bidding.” You stepped closer to him, eyeing him down, “If I had not seen your cock, I would have suspected you were a eunuch.”

“My duty is to my brother, to my mother. To my blood.” He sneered.

“And what of my blood, Aemond? What of our union? What of the prophesies from the Gods? Did they not command you to act as you watched me be dragged by men into the throne room? That babe may have been the Prince that was Promised, and now it is gone. Because of you.”

Aemond huffed, “I could do naught! He is my brother. He is the King.”

“And I am your wife! And the blood of the dragon between us runs thicker than the water of the womb you have shared. Like a scared little boy. Never have I seen you so pathetic. You left me for dead.”

Aemond scowled, “I would never do that to you.”

“And yet, you did. You left me at the hands of your brother. And you watched. You have only lost one eye, yet you are so blinded by your duty to them. I feel as though I have died already. I died the moment I watched you do nothing, as those men touched me, as the pain creeped into my womb. I died the moment I realised I meant nothing to you, and that you would let my fate fall into Aegon’s hands. Is this a cruel joke from the Stranger? Is my true reality too grievous for my soul to take? Am I destined for all eternity to love a man who does not love me back?”

“I do love you.” Aemond insisted, frustration in his tone.

“Then why do you let them hurt me?!” You cried, “Why do you hurt me? The Gods play tricks on my mind and my body, and punish me for your actions. She was your whore. Your bastard. And yet I was punished for it. Not you. Me.”

“I lost the child too, do you not think that it pains me so?”

“I know it does not! You did not feel it as I felt. You did not feel the life leave my body, or the pain that came after. You did not feel it pass through me.” You sniffed, another tear falling.

Aemond’s lip twitched as he looked down at you, voice dangerously low, “I thought I lost you both.”

“And that is where the sickness and depravity of the Gods come to fruition. It is a never ending cycle of hurt and be hurt. I do not know what they have planned for me, but I fear it, Aemond. I fear the path they have paved for me. That child was from them, I know it. I felt it in my bones. And yet we lost it. Will they punish me now for being so careless? Will they punish us both for not ensuring its birth? I cannot continue to wreak the consequences of the men around me. I will break. I will break like poor Helaena did. But even to that, there is nothing I can do because I fell in love with a man who’s actions wound me most terribly. There is this small, foolish piece of me still holding onto hope that the Aemond I grew up with would still care for me as he did.”

“I do. I love you deeply. I would do anything for you, surely you know this.” Aemond began, stepping forward to hold your face tightly in his large palms, thumbs brushing the tears that fell from your cheeks.

“It is okay,” You heaved a breath, “Please just tell me if it is a farce.” You grabbed his wrists almost desperately, “If you only say it so for the treaty. I will understand, I will even make my peace with it.” You said desperately,  “But please, I cannot survive my heart being torn apart by you any longer. I cannot do it, Aemond. I won’t. I will throw myself from Maegor’s Holdfast, I promise you this. I will set you free from these marriage bonds if you so wish, and my spirit from this earthly plane.”

Aemond stepped towards you, grabbing your shoulder and neck, fingers framing your chin, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you, “Eman va moriot jorrāelatan ao.  Kesan va moriot jorrāelagon ao.  Se qēlossās kostagon ropagon hen se jēdar, se nyke iēdrosa jorrāelagon ao.” I have always loved you. I will always love you. The stars could fall from the sky, and I would still love you.  

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he spoke, brow furrowed in a way that creased the scar at his brow, “Eman jorrāelatan ao pār nyke ēlī ilagontan laesi va ao.  Se kesan jorrāelagon ao ēva ñuha mōrī jelevre.” I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. And I will love you until my last breath.

A loud sob left your lips as your heart clenched in your chest at his words.

"Hen se gūrēñare yard, naejot se havor tistālion, ēza va moriot issare ao.” From the training yard, to the kitchen, it has always been you.

“Aemond.” You hands tightened around his wrists in a way that would have been painful as you clutched him for dear life.

The Prince pulled you forward towards him, clutching you against his chest as he let you cry, wrapping his large arms around you, blanketing you in a feeling of safety that only he could bring to you.

You cried into him, feeling the last of your resolve fall away, and the rawness of your grief exposed to the chambers. He held you to him tightly, afraid to let go, your hands tightly wrapped in the front of his tunic.

When Aemond finally pulled back, he brought his lips to yours. It wasn’t burning with passion or desire, it wasn’t laced with regret and grief, instead, his lips moved against yours like a gentle whisper of assurance, a smaller whisper of truth, and the almost invisible whisper of a promise, all of which was overpowered by one thing, and one thing only.

Love.

Your uncle pulled away, looking down at you with nothing but adoration as he spoke again,“Lanta rōvēgrie zaldrīzes perzyssy, hēnkirī hae mēre. Spool hen kasta, spool hen zōbrie. Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon. Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.” 

Two great dragon flames, together as one. Spool of green, spool of black. A great fall to tie two threads. Fated to burn together.  

Tears continued to fall, but not because of grief. Not because of the sorrow that swallowed you into its dark pit, its wispy tendrils pulling you beneath its icy surface. Not because of the regret that you had, or guilt that you felt for the Maester.

You cried because you knew it was the truth. 

You knew it to be.

It had to be. 

All of this could not be for naught.

“Avy jorrāelan.” I love you, He whispered again.

You gave him a sad smile in return, “And I love you, but I don’t think I will survive this.”

“I will not let them hurt you.” 

You looked at Aemond carefully, watching as the words left his mouth, at the way his eye held conviction, at the way his mouth held an almost Godly truth.

The way he said it to be true.

As though speaking would make it so.

“You already have.”

Aemond dipped his head towards you again and kissed you, pulling you against his body once more as you wrapped your arms around him, sighing into the kiss, feeling relief in his touch, safety in his arms, warmth in his reach.

Slowly Aemond moved you backwards towards the bed.

Your heart did not race nor skip, your breath did not hitch, and you went with him willingly, hands reaching the bottom of his tunic to begin unclasping the latches that held it together. 

When the last clasp was undone, your hands skated beneath gently, softly, slowly, and moved up his torso, feeling the hard lines of his body, and the warmth of his skin, and the subtle breaths that he took as you made your way to his shoulders, hands moving beneath to slide it off his his body. It fell to the floor, the next his under tunic, and before long, your hands reached forward to unlace his breeches. 

Aemond spun you softly, pushing your hair away from your neck and forward over your shoulder, kissing the bare skin as he unlaced and the back of your gown, the heavy material sagging on your body until it slid to the floor beneath you. 

Breeches and chemises were lost, boots and stockings tossed, until finally the two of you laid atop the green sheets of your bed, his callused hands skating over your skin in reverence, with undying patience and care. 

First he took you with his mouth, bringing you to your peak with the help of his long fingers, stretching you open for him and whispering words of praise against your slick skin. When you peaked with a cry, he kissed his way up your body, through the valley of your breasts until he hovered above you, seeking permission to move as he lined himself with your core. 

You tilted your head upwards, chasing his lips as he slid inside of you slowly, the both of you moaning into each others mouths. Pleasure coursed through you with every thrust, heat blooming in your core as he made love to you for the first time.

It was not possessive or rough, violent or haste, it was slow, and sensual, hands mapping out bodies, savouring the flickering sparks that spouted beneath your skin. The small sighs that he made, the moans as he dipped his head into your neck.

All of it devastatingly pure.

The tears came without you even noticing them there, Aemond finding them upon your cheeks with a moment of concern. He brushed the tears away from your cheeks as he stilled, the length of him throbbing inside of you, desperate to keep moving. 

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head vehemently, “I wish we hadn’t wasted so much time apart.” You whispered, hips moving up to meet his, encouraging him to move again, “I wish the war had not happened.” Aemond slid through your folds as you babbled beneath him, “I wish that we had not done the things we had done.” 

Aemond bent his neck to kiss you again, tongue chasing yours before he pulled away, the breath having been stolen from your lungs.

“We cannot go back, we can only move forward.”

You nodded, weakness and sorrow buried down beneath you as you looked at him with determination.

“Burn together.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[morallyinept]

Summary: Joel Miller comes back into your life unexpectedly after a gap of thirty years, and stirs up all kinds of memories and longing. Now, as you're stationed on an outpost for five days alone with the man you stupidly let go of all those years ago, you have a chance to confront him about your past life together and all the things you wished you’d said and done.

But Joel’s different now, and you know you need to tread carefully. Joel Miller is not the same man you once knew in another life.

A slow burn romance set in the post apocalyptic world, approx. twenty or so years after the initial Cordyceps outbreak.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Chapter word count: 3.2k

Series Masterlist

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: The day after the devastating news, you try to navigate through it. The day has come when the other group takes action against the horde. This is an angst heavy chapter.

☝🏻 I WILL NO LONGER BE ADDING NEW TAGS due to some of them not working as they should, despite me tagging, so please ensure you're following me and turn on notifs so you don't miss an update on this story.

Enjoy! 🖤

Previous Chapter

There’s so much death.

You think you’d be used to it by now. You’ve lost so much already. And will probably lose so much more. It's inevitable. It’s a thought that keeps you there, stuck inside a shell of fear and acceptance in equal measure.

Why bother anymore? It's pointless. Futile. A waste of energy that you no longer have. 

It’s chemical, the way it burns and doesn’t relent. Sulfuric acid melts away everything inside until there is no pain, only numbness. And you ride it with.

Because feeling nothing is better than feeling this loss. 

In the cold solitude of permeating now in this grief-stricken world, the numbness morphs into a bone-deep chill that seems to penetrate every fibre of your being. It isn't merely the absence of sensation but an all-encompassing void, an abyss that threatens to swallow the remnants of any piece of you, no matter how minute, that may be untouched by it.

The once familiar contours of your existence in the shack with Joel, are now distorted, and the world has become a desolate landscape once more where joy is an ancient memory.

You’ve walked this path before, only this time there is no knife in your hand.

The numbness settles like a suffocating shroud, rendering your heart an inert organ, useless and left to still and calcify inside your chest, incapable of feeling anything but the persistent ache of loss.

You've lost something, something is missing, you’re certain of it, somewhere in the fog.

Moments flood in where you're certain you know he is gone, and others try to convince you he’s still here. Still waiting for you at the commune safe and well. 

They taunt you, flout his face at you in their brazen attempts to confuse you. A labyrinth of torment, a maze where the spectre of Kelper looms around every corner. Your mind, a battleground of conflicting emotions, replays scenes of shared laughter and whispered confidences with a sadistic precision.

Each memory is a double-edged sword, cutting through the numbness to expose the raw nerves of the chasm-like depths of your sorrow beneath.

The sobs, when they come, are silent convulsions of anguish, choked by the grip of a deep, intense darkness, one that you can’t see through. In the vast expanse of your isolation, the numbness is both ally and adversary, a paradoxical dance with pain that leaves you suspended in the timeless limbo of heartbreak.

You want it to stop, will it to.

You cling to the numbness as a drowning person clings to a lifeline, desperate to shield yourself from the full force of the emotional tempest battering you and trying to pull you under. The pain, when ultimately surfaces, is an avalanche threatening to bury you beneath the weight of its enormity. You can't find your way out.

You can’t take it anymore. You just can’t. You’re done. 

You win, world. You win. 

So you embrace the numbness, a fragile fortress that keeps the floodgates of sorrow at bay. You shut it all out and lock yourself up tight. An impenetrable fortress unable to be conquered by anyone. A shield; a prison. It locks you in a suffocating embrace, a straitjacket of emotional anaesthesia that stifles the raw, throated cries of anguish.

You're just a pair of eyes, vacantly staring, but not seeing anything.

Words seem so feeble and barren in moments like this. And Joel has none to offer you. All he remembers is his own drowning.

Before that? Not so much these days. His recall on memories aren’t so sharp any more. Age, brain rot from the pills and whiskey binges - call it what you want, he still won’t remember despite wanting to.

Perhaps it's his brain saving him from reliving the horror. Doesn't matter. There are no photographs anymore so his memories are all he has, or lack of them. 

All he feels is the pain and grief that still walks with him daily, clasping tightly onto his hand and crushing the small bones in it.

Sarah’s face, he tries so hard to remember it all some days. But there are features missing somewhere, like he doesn't have all the pieces of her anymore. 

Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved once. Joel wants to say something reassuring and comforting to you like that, but can't bring himself to.

He knows you won’t want to hear it anyway, because he didn’t - and still doesn’t. There is nothing he can say to relieve you of this suffering.

Nothing anyone can say, it's only yours to keep.

All he can do is sit beside you and ride it out with you in silence with an arm tightly around your waist. He’s got you and he’s not letting you go.

He's there if you should need him. 

But you don't feel him. You don't feel anything.

You’re gone, and you don’t know anything anymore. 

Time, your name, where you are… None of it registers. The world outside your grief-ridden cocoon carries on, oblivious to the hurricane within.

Time, once a reliable companion, now mocks you with its indifferent march forward, sludging in the mud adding to your torment.

You don’t know that Joel tries to feed you, tries to get you to eat something.

You don’t know that you refuse, your face turning away as he gives up and leaves the plate beside you. He takes it away later when he sees you’ve not touched it. 

You don’t know that Joel sits with you on the floor in the same spot where you’d collapsed, unmoving for hours until his ass goes completely numb and he has to stand, cursing at his knee when the joint clicks horribly. 

You don’t know that he leaves you for a few moments in the shack by yourself whilst he goes outside, staring up at the stars and silently asking for help.

Asking for it to stop. He just wants it all to stop. For you, for him; for fucking everyone. 

One man can only take so much.

You don’t know that he hears rustling in the bushes and an infected stray happens upon him before he puts it out of its misery.

He goes to town on it, beating its skull and caving it in with his bare hands, long after it's dead.

You don't hear his croaked yells into the bloody pulp as his rage swallows him up, and for a while, he too is lost.

Numb. Checked out mentally. The ache persists within him, an unyielding agony that refuses to be dulled by the passage of time.

Nor do you see him wiping his bloodied hands down his worn jeans as he returns to you and helps you to the cot in your catatonic state.

You don’t remember sleeping. Or maybe you do. It’s hard to tell. All you remember is Kelper’s face staring back at you.

He’s sitting cross legged opposite and his smile is warm. You don’t know how he can smile at you like this, knowing he’s left you.

You bastard.  

He tells you that you need to get your shit together. That he’s okay now and you’re going to be okay too. Max, Sal and Guthrie need you. That you will endure and survive. That Joel will take care of you.

He’s a good man, Goose.

Kelper looks over his shoulder at Joel sitting by the window, staring out like a lost little boy.

Handsome, too.

You plead with him to come back. That you can't do this without him. 

We both know that ain't true.

Kelper smiles and reaches for your hand but you don’t feel that either.

You got this. I know you do. 

You look at him and hiccup an audible sob through your lips. 

“It should have been me,” Joel hears you whisper a little while later, rousing him from the window as he keeps watch. 

And it paralyses him because it's exactly what he’s told himself every single day since he lost his daughter.

It should have been me. 

“We have to go and help them.” You say as Joel comes to. 

You’re standing over him with dishevelled hair and sunken eye sockets. He sits upright in the chair wiping the crust away from his eyes and the dawn hasn’t quite risen yet. 

“I can’t leave Max and Sal on their own. Not without…” The thought of mentioning his name slashes at your gut. 

Joel stiffens. “We can’t. Have to stay here n’ do our bit.” He affirms softly.

He knows it's futile, that sense won’t pull your conscience. There will be nothing he can say that will sway your decision, no matter how reckless it is.

But he has to try.

“The commune needs us here.”

“Then I’ll go without you.” You say defiantly, and he expects you to say it, could almost predict it as your eyes burn fiercely, your mouth pulls tight and he remembers that look from times gone by. 

Joel stands and reaches for your elbow, pulling you back gently. He’s surprised that you don’t shake him off.

He feels you sag, and that's worse somehow. His head is shaking and eyes boring into you, searching you out to try and bring you back.

“I need ya here with me.” He confirms with a little authority to his tone. 

It also surprises him when your fist collides with the side of his jaw and it knocks him back a little.

He doesn’t react; the punch isn’t that hard in the grand scheme of things, and he knows you don't mean it.

He knows you need to let it out somehow, even if that means he bears the brunt of it. 

Your eyes immediately water, tears spilling down your cheeks as he cradles you into him to the point of suffocation against his broad chest. 

Something broke in; wormed it's way in through the cracks as you fall.

“I know, darlin’,” he mumbles, tasting a little blood around his back teeth. “I’d punch me too. S'alright. Ya let it on out now. I got you.”

Wails, like thunderclaps, punctuate the numbness finally, each one an anguished plea to a universe that has callously snatched away what little scraps of happiness you have left in this barren and scorched world.

The tears, imprisoned behind vacant eyes, overflow like a dam teetering on the brink of collapse. They aren't gentle streams; they’re torrents of searing agony, carving deep rivulets down your cheeks, leaving salty trails that etch the map of your suffering and absorb into the soft plaid of Joel’s shirt.

“I got you, darlin’. I got you.” He shushes, over and over again. 

You sob uncontrollably, and it's like Joel can hear the elastic bands wrapped around your heart keeping it together snagging and tweaking as they break, one by one. 

Joel switches the walkie-talkie on again. He stands by the window waiting, one giant hand resting up against the boards that cover the full pane. 

You’re sitting in the wicker chair below him, staring out at nothing, slowly feeling your limbs register again. That you have fingers and toes, and they move and ache. 

Your stomach rumbles, your tongue feels overly sucked on. Your hair is a tangle of knots.

Twelve in the afternoon comes and goes and Joel keeps the walkie on.

Today is the day. Crunch time. The fifth day when the rest of them will be launching the attack on the unsuspecting infected. The never ending war on death that has taken, and still continues to take, so fucking much. 

The numbness that has settled into your bones, an ache that seems to leech vitality from your very essence, has been extracted a little. You can feel Joel shouldering some of that for you, even if it’s not expected.

You glance up at him now, fingers twitching to reach out and touch him; to pull him close and let him absorb you into his bones and keep you from further harm. 

Joel had spent the morning readying everything on a silent autopilot whilst you lingered in the air around him like a ghost with foggy tendrils.

The shack was tidied and replenished ready for the next watch. The horses were saddled and waiting outside; their reins tethered to a branch in case of a swift exit.

The rifle and shotgun were loaded and extra ammo weighed in your pockets ready, even though you didn't put them in there.

His gun was holstered on his hip again and yours too, although you don’t remember him belting it on you either.

A selective amnesiac, erasing not only the pain but also the joy. An anomalous emptiness that denies you the solace of sweet recollections and the closure of confronting the bitter moments. The void left by the missing memories feels like a phantom limb, a sensation of something absent yet profoundly missed. Grasping at the fragile wisps of memory, only to find elusive shadows slipping through your fingers. 

You can't let Joel slip through them.

You sigh out and Joel glances down at you. All you can both do is wait now. Left dangling precariously on the precipice, not knowing if you’ll fall right off into the abyss below.  

“Are you okay?” You peep timidly after some time. 

Joel stands wearily and runs his hand through his hair, messing it up further as he goes. A constant fluff resides in it despite it not being washed for days, a wildness that can't be tamed. 

“M’runnin’ on two hours sleep... I dunno how m’not dead yet.” He replies stoically. 

His hand engulfs his face rubbing at the bristly hairs around his jawline and then he looks down at you again with molten brown eyes.

"Know it's stupid to ask, but... how ya holdin' up?"

You shake your head. "It's not stupid."

His face is a cocktail of worry, confusion and something else that then pulls you up onto your feet and crashing into his arms. 

You kiss him, gently nipping at his lips until it mutates into a desperate need that explodes between you both. He feels it, reciprocates by pushing you back against the boards, perhaps a little too hard as your breath wheezes out of your chest.

His hands around your waist are squeezing as you clasp him close to you and breathe him in like you’ve surfaced from the current trying to drown you.

He’s the light when you're lost in the darkness and you never want it to go out.

You can’t let it. 

“Joel,” you whimper and it speaks to him; speaking to his heart crashing in his chest and his cock stiffening painfully in his jeans.

He tastes you, all around your unbrushed mouth and suckles on your tongue, your bottom lip; down your jaw and your neck that washes of days old salt. 

You’re panting, begging for mere threads of affection from him as he smashes through your brick walls and brings you out of that dark place, carried in his strong arms.

For a moment, it stops all the pain dead in its tracks as he muffles words of want and desire inside your ear with a growled carnality.

Hungry for you, wanting in his medicinal cleansing. 

His fingers are at your flies and you feel him start to tug down your jeans with grunts against your lips, when the rumbles in the sky break the contact at your mouths abruptly. 

You both feel it; the vibrations of the explosions in the distance, and Joel is at the window letting you fall out of his touch, and off that ledge, as he scans the horizon. 

“They’re closer than we thought.” You say, zipping yourself back up. The blood still pumping in your ears.

He shakes his head. “No. Travellin’ on the wind. They're twenty miles out.” 

He turns to look back at you, eyes brown and cheeks flushed with the remnants of his desire. 

“You think they got them all?” You question coming up by his side and once he feels you there, his hand instinctively reaches for yours.

You feel his fingers entwine with your own as you both hold onto one another; your eyes never leaving the window. 

The smoke, a black smear on the horizon, pulls both your attention and weighs it heavy in your gut.

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Joel gruffs. 

Still reeling from Kelper’s sacrifice, no matter how stupid Tommy feels it is, and tastes it around his teeth still, he pushes forward. He has to.

He feels the weight crush the bones in his shoulders to a dusty pulp, but still his feet propel him forward. Aching and blistered.

The sombre mood has carried them all, given them a renewed zeal to get the job done so Kelper’s death isn’t in vain. 

Some swill of regret stings like grazes. He wonders briefly if Kelper would have gotten them here differently.

“...Heading up now, almost there…” a voice crackles over the radio in his hand and it startles Tommy, bringing him back to the situation at hand. 

“Few more minutes. Hold steady.” He responds.

He glances at Max, kneeling still beside him. A pregnant silence envelopes the surroundings, aside from the low chorus of groans and shrieks below them.

The air seems to still, as if nature itself holds its breath in anticipation of the cataclysm about to unfold

The last of the horde moves in, shuffling around the lip of the canyon as they amble towards no pre-ordained destination. Just moving by the sheer drive of hunger and the need to spread, quietly steered and manipulated. 

Fungus ain't so smart afterall.

“Come on ya bastards…” Tommy mutters from the vantage point. “Come on.”

“We can't wait, we gotta do it, now.” Max says. “They’re gonna pass it.”

Tommy glances up at the front of the horde, where the majority swell in numbers and draw close, dangerously close, to passing the tip of the canyon entirely. 

“No. Few more seconds. Get the last of ‘em.” He scans down the length of the horde; the stragglers hanging back slower in their dotted droves. 

“Gonna be close.” Max urges. “We can clean up. We gotta detonate, Tommy! Now!”

“Fuck!” He seethes. His hands tremble, sweaty around the grip of the radio.  

The full horde are lining up, a few more seconds. One… two… come on, come on!

"Tommy!" Max urges again.

“Now. Now!” Tommy yells into the radio. “Blow it now!”

He's suspended as he watches, those few beats where nothing happens lasts a lifetime, and the dread pulverises him.

Flooded with every worse case scenario when the air remains still and unmoving.

No...

Then, a low rumble emanates from the canyon's depths, growing steadily into a crescendo that vibrates through the very core of the earth.

The canyon walls tremble, and a shockwave ripples through the air. The ground beneath Tommy and Max quivers, and a collective gasp escapes their lips as the walls of the canyon seem to bow outward. 

For a singular, captive moment, Tommy holds his breath, caught in the transient space between destruction and salvation.

He watches, eyes wide in elation, fear… relief, as the horde starts to topple inward; the ground beneath them breaking apart. A hungry mouth swallowing them down into the pits of Hell.

The shockwave blasts outward, sending dust and debris into the air like a macabre celebration of their victory over the horde.

Tommy and Max shield their eyes from the intensity of the explosion, the heat washing over them in waves, even at their vantage point above. 

The sound is deafening, and once Tommy opens his grit filled eyes, he searches frantically through the dust.

“Did we get them?” Max asks, coughing, and with a mild ringing in his ears making him shout louder. 

“I dunno, I can’t see a fuckin’ thing!” Tommy raises the radio and speaks into it. “Did we get ‘em, did we get ‘em all?” 

The radio is silent, save for jarred crackling, and Max glances at Tommy wearily through the wispy smog. 

“Somebody talk to me! Did we get ‘em all?”

The walkie-talkie crackles into life startling you both, and Joel reaches for it. 

“Tommy?!” He speaks fast into it. 

A voice comes through. Wiry, static. There’s a lot of background noise, it sounds like wind and whooshing. It's hard to make it out clearly.

“Tommy, you copy?” Joel asks, his tone more frantic. 

The walkie crackles and Tommy’s voice is on the other end. 

“We did it! We fuckin’ did it!”

You sigh out, fingers that were once gnarled start to relax, and the relief that floods through you both is apparent, especially in the way Joel’s hunched shoulders deflate. 

You can’t help but let a choked, bewildered sob escape your lips as you glance out the window and see the smoke in the far distance. 

Joel lets a small smile flee from his lips as Tommy’s voice comes through again.

“We got those fuckers, Joel. Every single one of ‘em.”

To be continued...

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[wonwoosthetic]

Amour Haine & Co. | Chapter 16 |

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word count - 13.3k

warnings - cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of non-consensual sex, prostitution; this might be a kinda heavy chapter for some, so please do read with caution! I will never ever write a scene where any of the mentioned trigger warnings are actively happening to the reader, but there are mentions of it in this chapter

a/n: none of the things happening in this story are things that I put into relation to the real people that exist in this story! I also want to send every single one of you an immensely huge thank you!! For your patience, for your love, and for your support! I'm getting back into writing more frequently and hope to give you weekly updates from now on ˙ᵕ˙ I also hope that you of course enjoy this chapter and do not worry, there is so much more to come for this story! We're not getting towards the end of the story in the next few chapters.

I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT GUYS🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

"You're not gonna be able to walk away from this conversation forever, just so you know."

"Is this even legal?"

Your leg hadn't stopped shaking ever since you had stepped foot into the modern law firm. In the elevator, the air started feeling restricted again, just like it did back in the car that you had to share with Wonwoo. Only Wonwoo. Wonwoo and you.

His head snapped towards you, looking slightly down at your frame, hidden underneath the oversized clothing you were wearing, "What?" His eyebrows were scrunched, and you could tell his head was somewhere else, his thoughts were not in the room with you.

"This," you pointed towards the envelope, holding the possibly most important papers of your career in his hand. "What we're doing here. Is this legal?"

With pure confusion written all across his face, he kept his gaze interlocked with yours. "Are you seriously asking me if talking to our lawyer is illegal?"

"No," you rolled your eyes, a soft sigh escaping from your lips, "You know exactly what I mean. These are confidential, and I'm just not sure if... you know... we're allowed to use them to get an advantage in court."

Your eyes fell to Wonwoo's chest rising and dropping again heavily as he took a deep breath, adjusting his jacket.

"We got this information legally. We didn't steal it," he explained sternly, making sure that you were listening to him, "Sehun came to you, gave you this and that's it. It's an important part that we can't leave out when explaining it to the judge, but I'm gonna leave that to Jihoon. We'll see what he says." You nodded in understanding. Fidgeting with your fingers didn't help ease the nerves, but the CEO's words seemed to do a good enough job - at least a little bit.

It didn't feel right. The whole situation felt off. First, Sehun just showing up in your office and then just dropping such heavy info onto you, giving you everything you could possibly need to take down the worst enemy you had ever had to face in your entire life: Park Chanyeol. You trusted Sehun, there was no doubt of that. Whether that was a good thing or not, you didn't know just yet. Maybe you had been too forgiving too quickly and you were sure that Wonwoo would remind you of exactly that again, once you were back at the office. As if his rant back at his apartment wasn't already enough. Oh god,... that apartment. Too much had already happened there, and more shit just keeps piling up.

-

“Can I help you?”

The squeaky clean voice of the beautiful woman in front of you kept echoing in your brain. Beautiful doesn't even cover it. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. That's it. Breathtaking. Because that's exactly what she did to you.

The rain that had drenched your hair suddenly added so much more weight onto your head, making even the clothes on your body feel too tight. When did taking a breath become so difficult?

The raise of her eyebrows along with a tilt of her head brought you back as you just stared into her light-brown eyes, beautiful like soft caramel. Even her skin seemed too perfect to be true. Out of which fucking magazine did that woman just jump out? With that oversized sweatshirt hanging loosely on her body, it would most likely have been more of a YA novel rather than a magazine, but such a face could decorate the covers of each Vogue magazine across the world, and no one would question it.

You shook your head hesitantly, "S...Sorry," gulping hurt, "I- ehm-" Thank God, another voice interrupted you because who knows what would've come out of your mouth if you had continued.

"Jesus, Yeri, I told you not-" Wonwoo came to a sudden halt once his gaze stopped at your figure, standing in the hallway like a lost puppy. "Y/N? Why aren't you at the office?" Taking in your heavy breathing, and the wet clothes sticking onto your body, his eyes quickly found yours, "What happened?", immediately realising what was about to happen when you started shaking your head.

"Nothing," you quietly spoke, not trusting your voice to be any louder, "I... I'll get going... See ya," turning around, ready to make your way back to the elevator, back to the office building, back to your normal work day, or as normal as you could be after what had just happened. Not even two hours ago, this man was standing in front of you, his fingers tracing over your chin, desperately wanting to pull you closer and intertwine your souls. Even his ghost of a touch was still imprinted on your skin, making you want to scream. Not even eight hours ago, he was sitting down, looking up at you with those big brown eyes, almost begging at you. Admitting to his feelings, revealing the deepest of his feelings towards you. And now, not even ten seconds ago, he let it all fall. Every word he said, every sentence he spoke just evaporated into thin air.

Before you could let the tears in your eyes dwell up, a harsh yet soft tug at your wrist made you stop and turn back around, immediately faced with the body of the man you had become so familiar with, whether you liked it or not - this position didn't feel all too foreign to you.

"What's going on?"

His low voice mixed with his touch sent an electric wave through your body, yet you avoided his eyes, knowing exactly it would hurt too much. You rather kept your head down, looking at his hand wrapped around your wrist, shaking free from his grip.

"Nothing, forget it, I'll tell you later-"

"No," he stopped you, "Come on," and nodded towards his apartment since you were still not looking at him, he repeated the action you dreaded so much as his fingers found their place on your chin again to tap it, making you look up and move away from his touch. "Let's go inside."

You gulped, hugging the envelope closer to your chest, "No, it's fine, you seem-"

"Busy?" There was something teasing, yet slightly concerned, in the raise of his eyebrows. "She's my cousin."

"Hm?" You met his eyes quickly after the last word left his lips, which have slowly but surely curled up.

"Mh," he nodded, "Yeri's my cousin." He didn't let you intervene as you opened your mouth but just kept on talking, "My mum called her over to spend some time with her. On the way here, it started raining, so I gave her something warm to wear. They were just about leave, that's why she was close to the door and opened it even though I told her not to open it to anyone that doesn't use the bell downstairs, but oh well." He turned towards the open door, raising his voice slightly, "It's not like it's her first time here."

The female voice shouted a soft, "Sorry!" back, making him shake his head with a sigh, before catching your gaze again. You held your mouth tightly shut. Oh.

Locking eyes with him seemed too intense, explaining your drifting glances around the hallway that slowly fell to the floor, looking down at your shoes.

"You didn't have to explain that to me," you raised her head again, "I-... It's none of my business... you know..."

An almost chuckle escaped Wonwoo's mouth, just almost, with that stupid smirk still plastered proudly on his face. "Sure." Sharing a quick one-second glance at each other before he took the word again. "Would you like to come in now and explain what's going on?" So soft, so gentle. As if the person in front of you had just found out about the vulnerable side of you and was trying to speak as softly as possible to you.

You nodded, rushing past him without sending him another look, just praying to forget this scene had ever happened.

Chaewon was surprised to see you back at the apartment, but she got the message after a quick explanation that you and Wonwoo had to have an important discussion - 'business stuff' as he put it without even knowing the exact reason for your sudden appearance. 

After the two women had left, you took a seat at the dining table, putting the envelope down, expecting the CEO to sit down across from you when he suddenly disappeared.

"Wonwoo?" Your voice echoed through the apartment.

"Yeah? What?" He exited his bedroom and came back into the living space.

"What are you doing?" You wondered, nervously tapping your nails on the glass of the table.

He put the sweat-set he had carried from the room over to you onto the surface, nodding towards it, "Getting you something warm to wear."

You were quick to shake your head, "No, don't worry, it's fine," and pushed the envelope towards it, the sound of it scraping over the table scratching your ear, "You should see this."

"And you should put something on that's not drenched in water. Go change." You opened your mouth to protest, but he beat you to it, "I'll take a look, but you go. Now." With a sigh, you gathered the clothing into your grip as he mumbled, "I don't need you calling in sick to work tomorrow."

You rolled your eyes and were about to make your way to the bathroom when a comment tickled your tongue that you just couldn't let go. "You really enjoy giving away your clothes, huh?"

A deep sound that could be counted as a chuckle came from Wonwoo as he reached for the letters you had brought along. Once you were a few more feet away from him, he sighed, eyeing your figure disappearing in the bathroom, "To people I care about." Before you closed the door, a small smile appearing on your face.

-

You decided to leave your pants on as they were spared by the rain, unlike your top, but happily accepted the soft sweater Wonwoo had offered you, the name of his past university on wide display across your chest. Once you were back in the open living space, your eyes drifted to the dining table, expecting the CEO, but coming to sight with empty chairs. The pieces of paper were spread all over the glass, clearly only hastily looked at.

You were about to call out for Wonwoo, when his voice caught your attention, "Jesus Christ, Jihoon, pick up." Low and angered, just like you used to hear it all the time. Before. Before... all of this. It almost seemed unfamiliar to you, that's how long it must have been.

Turning to walk to the kitchen after hanging your wet clothing over one of the empty chairs and the sweatpants on the seat, you found said CEO leaning against the countertop. What caught your eyes though was the glass he had put up to his lips, throwing the brown liquid down his throat.

"Wonwoo, it's 9 am!" You called out, catching his attention. He threw his phone to the side with a clearly annoyed sigh and put the glass down, right next to the Whiskey Decanter.

Ignoring your exclaim, he raised his hand, gripping the pieces of paper tightly, wrinkling them harshly, "Are those real?"

The stern tone of his voice made you take a deep breath and reach forward in a hopefully somewhat calming manner, "Can I explain?" But that didn't calm him at all. Not in the slightest. He rushed past you.

"Yes, in the car. Put your shoes on."

"What?" You turned around, watching him hastily compiling all the evidence and stuffing everything into the brown envelope. He brushed past you once again, back into the kitchen to grab his phone before getting to the front door and slipping into his shoes.

"Jihoo's not picking up his fucking phone, so we're gonna go visit him. Come on," he nodded for you to come closer. You knew it wasn't the right time to ask any questions and just followed his order, right until he reached for his car keys. A slap on his hand made him flinch back.

"Are you insane? I just saw you jugging down Whiskey! You really think I'm gonna jump into a car with you now?" He was quick to shake his head, trying to get some sense back.

"Right, right... sorry," he opened the door, "You got your keys?"

You nodded, "Yeah, let's go," with a calm voice you pushed him out, praying this was gonna go at least somehow the way you expected it to go.

-

The elevator doors opened, bringing you back to the present as you thought back to the car ride where you had tried to explain everything that had happened in your office. Wonwoo had 'only' interrupted you about twenty times with 'what the fuck was he doing there?', 'Are you being for real right now?', 'you're fucking with me, right?', 'I'm gonna fire Jisoo, for fuck's sake'. A separate argument had started on behalf of that last statement of his as you tried to talk him out of that thought, but at that point, you had already reached Jihoon's law firm building, and everything was forgotten again as you stepped into the elevator and let silence overcome the two of you.

Just as you were about to step onto the designated floor, Wonwoo's call made you stop, "Y/N."

You turn around with a hum.

"Who did you think Yeri was?" Was that why he had been so quiet the entire elevator ride? Was he really gonna ask that now?

"What?" You scrunched your eyebrows, slightly shaking your head, "N-No one."

As the door wanted to close again, the CEO stepped forward, putting himself in between.

His eyes never left yours and you couldn't get yourself to break the intense stare you two shared.

"You still don't believe me?"

You shrugged softly, "Believe what?" There were more important things to discuss, was he really not gonna let this go?

"You thought Yeri was some girl I slept with. Be honest."

...

Yes. Yes, you did. Alright? And you hated it. Every fucking second of it.

"So what, Wonwoo," you barely whispered, "Can we go now?" Motioning towards the hallway. You didn't wait for an answer but just stepped forward, stopping at the extended arm suddenly in front of you.

"I meant what I said. Last night." Again, his eyes were still trained on you. Even with your gaze straight, you could feel his burning the side of your face, making you turn your head.

You nodded, your eyes drifting down to the floor, "I know. I did too." Your comment seemed to have calmed him as you could see his eyebrows relaxing and his eyes softening.

"But still, you..." You could tell, he himself wasn't sure where this was supposed to go, so you stopped him with your palm up.

"Can we talk about this later?"

Wonwoo nodded with a heavy breath leaving his nose. You were ready to walk forward, but his finger pointing at you made you stop once again.

"You're not gonna be able to walk away from this conversation forever, just so you know." With a roll of your eyes, you pushed his hand aside and walked past him, waiting for him in the hallway to show you the way.

Similar to your office building, you stepped through glass doors but came to a halt at what seemed to be like a reception.

"Oh, Mister Jeon," the voice of the woman behind the desk rushed through your ear, "Do you have an appointment with-"

"I'm sorry, but I need to see him now," he interrupted her quickly.

"He has a client in there, and I don't think he's free until-"

"No," he stopped her again, "I didn't ask. I want to see him. Now."

She nodded, "I understand, but I can't interrupt-"

"If you can't, I will," his tone grew more and more serious with every word falling from his lips, making you step closer to him, your soft hand finding its way to his shoulder.

"It's fine," you said out loud, everyone knowing it was more directed towards Wonwoo than to anyone else, "We can wait."

He shrugged off your touch, "No, we can't," and turned around without another sound, crossing the floor with quick steps, and running down the hallway as he definitely already knew the way to Jihoon's office.

"Wonwoo!"

"Mister Jeon!" The two of you that had stayed behind called out, before you looked at the woman with a gentle smile, "I'm sorry," but still went to rush after him. 

You caught up just as he opened the door to an office.

"Jihoon!" With a quick look inside, you were met with the surprised eyes of the man you were looking for and a second pair sitting right across from him, gazing at you in shock and confusion.

"Get out," Wonwoo motioned to the stranger to get up, "Come on."

"Wonwoo, I-" the lawyer tried to stop him, but the man in front of him was already standing up, clearly intimidated by the stature of the CEO. He almost bumped shoulders with you with the rush he was in, excusing himself quickly, not even daring to cross gazes with you.

"We have to talk," he sternly told Jihoon, throwing the envelope onto his desk.

The smaller man sighed, "And that can't wait?"

"No."

-

Wonwoo and you had taken a seat across from Jihoon, each in their own seat as your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you. You had wanted to start picking at your nail polish, but once you realised that it truly was all gone, your fingers found new entertainment by playing with the leather of the chairs. While you could practically hear and feel your heartbeat slowly coming up to your throat, your foot twitching out of nervosity, Wonwoo next to you seemed to be doing just fine. A deep breath would leave his lips every now and then as his gaze drifted around the room, taking in the decor on Jihoon's shelves and the big windows showing you the skyline of the city. After that became too boring for him, he stood up and started pacing around the room, clearly getting impatient by how long the lawyer was taking, which you could definitely relate to. One quick look at the digital clock on his desk though let you know that it had only been four minutes. Four long fucking minutes.

"So?" Wonwoo was the first to break the silence, making his friend sigh, look up and lean back in his chair. His eyes first fell on Wonwoo, but then travelled to you, suddenly a confused look written across his face.

"You went to Seoultech?"

"Hm?" You wondered, copying his facial expression before you lowered your head to where his gaze was fixed on. The sweatshirt. You forgot. "Oh, no," you stuttered, "I-It-"

"It's mine, not important," the CEO finished the explanation quickly, not wanting to dive further into the reason why you were wearing it, making Jihoon's eyebrows jump up in surprise. His change in expression went uncommented. "So, what do you say?" Wonwoo steadied his figure by placing his hands on the backrest of the chair he had sat in only a minute ago, not looking anywhere else but at the man whose opinion mattered the most at that very second.

"I think you know what I'm gonna say," he answered calmly.

"Well, I wanna hear it," Wonwoo argued back.

The lawyer sighed, "It's great evidence. Amazing even."

"Exactly," the younger man nodded with somewhat of a proud grin on his lips.

"But," Jihoon started again, catching both of your attention suddenly.

"But?" The CEO and you questioned in chorus. That was never a good start.

He gathered the papers together in his hands, waving them gently, "It's too good. And too much."

"What the fuck do you mean, too much?" Wonwoo didn't seem as confident anymore as before, annoyed by what he had to be confronted with. "That asshole did all of this, how could it be too much?!" You didn't miss the slight raise in his voice, neither did Jihoon, but he seemed unfazed by it.

"I mean it's too much." He stated once again. "You bring this amount of evidence to a judge out of nowhere, they're gonna start questioning it. All of it."

"So? Let them question it."

The shake of his head, made Wonwoo stop in his tracks. "That would give Chanyeol just more time to come up with something to fight this. Because he WILL find out that everything's getting delayed because of a sudden appearance of evidence the court needs to look through."

"Fuck that," the CEO shook his head with a deep mumble, followed by a sigh.

"How did you even get this?" Jihoon wondered, his eyes flicking between you two, waiting for an answer.

You lifted your head to find Wonwoo's gaze already on you. The soft nod towards the lawyer along with a gentle, "That's your story to tell," made you take a deep breath.

With your fingers holding on tightly to the sleeves of the sweater, you started, "Sehun came into the office today."

"Oh Sehun? Park's guy?" To which you nodded, but Jihoon had more questions, "Why? You know him too?"

"Yeah... he..." you tried finding the right words, "He used to be one of my best friends before... Chanyeol and I became a thing. So- I don't know, he just was there, sitting in my office with that envelope and told me to use it for the lawsuit."

"Just like that?"

"He feels really guilty for what they did," as much as you didn't want to defend him, since you knew the other party was still in the wrong, you couldn't help but let your feelings play into it, "He wants to be better than that them-"

"That sounds pretty sketchy to me, not gonna lie," Jihoon sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood up. Wonwoo was back to sitting down next to you, his eyes never leaving your side profile.

"It's not," you argued, "I trust him. Kinda..."

"Kinda?"

"I know that it's hard to believe, but if you knew him like I do, you'd trust him too. Of course, I don't want to put all of my trust into him and into this," you pointed at the papers on his desk, "But I do believe he meant what he said. He wants to take down Chanyeol just as much as we do. He's done with his bullshit."

"Alright," Jihoon nodded, "I'll take your word for that," and took a few steps closer to his desk again, suddenly separating the papers into two piles, "This," he pointed to the left one, "We can use. I'll get that to the judge as quickly as possible." Then turned to the right one, "But this. We can't use it like that."

You sat up straighter, trying to get a glimpse at what pieces of evidence he was talking about when you found the statements of the women Sehun had told you about.

"What?" You called out, "What do you mean, we can't use that? Are you kidding me? You just wanna throw that away?!" Your voice got louder with each sentence, desperation and shock lacing every word. Frustration started building up in your body like a slow fire spreading.

"Listen, we-"

"These women deserve to be heard! They had the courage to talk about what happened to them, and now you don't even want to use it?! You can't be serious right now..." The rough hand gently covering yours on the armrest of your chair made you take a deep breath. You didn't need to look down to feel the intensity.

"Jihoon," Wonwoo spoke up, much calmer than you, "Their statements are just as much evidence as that other shit-"

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is-"

"Not, it's not, Wonwoo!" Jihoon was the last person to raise their voice in the room, but it had to happen at some point. Before either of you could interfere, he continued, his tone much lower but not any less strict, "We know what law enforcement is like these days. You out of all us should know it the best," he pointed at the CEO, who shifted in his seat and his grip on your hand tightened. He hit a nerve with that. "What they're gonna do once they read through these is give that Park idiot a warning and those women some money because they think it's gonna make them feel better and forget everything that happened. This is their way of handling these types of situations these days, and it's not gonna benefit us in any way or bring Park down."

The three of you sat in silence. You understood now. Wonwoo did too. And Jihoon was right. When it comes to sexual assault cases, law enforcement was the worst to deal with it and whatever the outcome would be, it never benefited the women on the lower end.

"There's a big difference between the raid videos and the statements," the lawyer started again, sitting down opposite of you, "Here with have video evidence, which is VITAL in a case like this. Yes, videos can always be edited, but these idiots forgot that you have a watermark on all of your security camera footage, like smart people would." His comment almost made you chuckle, but it certainly made Wonwoo smile. "Statements won't get us far, that's the problem. They can be faked easily. They can even say we bribed these women to say bad shit about Park." You nodded in understanding. "But."

"Can you stop with these 'buts' and get to the fucking point?" Wonwoo started becoming impatient again, never breaking the cold demeanour you had become so used to.

Jihoon took the right pile of paper into his grasp, "Did you read through them?"

"Not all of them, why?" The CEO shook his head.

The smaller man sighed, "I figured," earning himself an unamused facial expression from his friend, "Some of these women stated that the sexual harassment happened at the workplace. There's no way we're getting camera footage from their office unless Sehun helps us with that, but that again could get us into some deep trouble as well," he explained, knowing he had both of your full attention. "But not all of them talk about their workplace. Some of them mention a club."

Wonwoo stared at him in confusion as he noticed the slightly smug look on the lawyer's face, "What club?"

Not giving him a verbal answer, Jihoon pushed the papers towards the two of you, making Wonwoo's hand lift from yours, leaving a cold empty space. It was only then that you noticed for how long his warm palm was covering your entire hand. The man next to you got a hold of the papers, reading through them quickly until his eyes stopped and what he was looking for.

"The Monbebe..."

"The Monbebe," Jihoon nodded with a smirk, a pen of his now in between his fingers as he played with it.

Wonwoo shook his head in slight annoyance or disappointment, you weren't sure, "Fuck..."

Your eyes switched between the two men, hoping someone would explain what had just happened, but since neither of them continued, you decided to speak up, "What's the Monbebe?"

Wonwoo was quick to answer, "A club downtown."

"And part of our past," the lawyer continued, a subtle smirk daring to escape on his face.

"Jihoon. Don't." The CEO looked up, glaring at his friend. But he just rolled his eyes.

You didn't miss the sudden change in the atmosphere that ran across the room, the tension that had started to build up again, and you couldn't help but let your curiosity win over, "W-What do you mean?" Eyes on Jihoon first, but when he pointed towards Wonwoo, you switched to look at him, "What does he mean?"

The man next to you shook his head as he threw the papers back onto the table with a huff, "Nothing, it's not important."

"Oh, it is VERY important," Jihoon contended.

"No, it's not, you fucking know I don't want to have anything to do-"

"You can't run from your past, Wonwoo!" The two men started to argue. You stayed seated, watching the heat in both of their eyes as they took a trip down memory lane, to a memory that Wonwoo seemed to want to forget.

The CEO stood up with an angry breath leaving his lips, "That was never supposed to be my past! Or any of our pasts! You forgot about that?! Oh sorry, my bad, just because it got deleted from your record, you're just gonna pretend like it was fine what happened back then?!"

"Don't start with that," Jihoon, now also standing as a defence mechanism, pointed a finger at his friend, "I'm not the one trying to erase everything that happened. Yes, it wasn't okay, but like I said, it's in the past, Wonwoo." He shook his head with a sigh, "Jesus Christ... I'm not saying you should go back there and become their best fucking friend."

"Then what exactly are you trying to say, Sir lawyer?!" Wonwoo spat those words at his face, almost sounding like he was holding them against said lawyer.

"Will you let me finish for once?"

The CEO raised his arms in defence and motioned for the other to continue talking. You just hoped to soon get out of this misery of the unknown.

Jihoon took a deep breath, taking a look out of the window before turning his attention back to you, "I told you. The security camera footage that Sehun brought you won't be a problem. That's good evidence. But the statements are not enough-"

"You already said that," Wonwoo interrupted him, earning him a glare from both you and Jihoon, receiving an annoyed sigh in return.

"BUT, we know that the Monbebe has security cameras all over that freaking place, and those also have a watermark, meaning that the judge and everyone else would look through, but they wouldn't question the sincerity of the footage. Because those are harder, if not, impossible to fake in the period ever since it happened to now."

"And... how do we get to this security footage?" You had started picking on the fabric of the chair again, still not feeling an ounce of casualty or calmness yet.

Jihoon dared to look at his friend from across the room for a split second before answering, "That's why I mentioned our past," looking at his shoes and meeting your eyes again, "We-"

"She doesn't have to know everything," Wonwoo stopped him sternly, taking the last piece of patience you had with those final words. You shot up from your seat and turned your entire body towards him,

"I'm in this shit as much as you are! So yes, I do in fact have to know everything, are you kidding me?! While you two have been fighting over God knows what shitty past you have, I've been sitting here and just listening to this, not knowing what the fuck is going on. So you better start telling me about this right now! I've had to tell you everything about Chanyeol as well-"

"That's not the same!" With a few quick steps, Wonwoo got dangerously closer to you, "Your fuckhead of ex-boyfriend is suing our company, so I think I'm damn well entitled to know who the fuck he is and why he's doing that!"

"Yes, and now this is also part of that whole fucking trial, that I'm in as well, so stop arguing and start fucking talking," you had lowered your voice, remembering that there was still another person in the room with you and you were in fact in an official law firm, holding multiple other lawyers that worked next to yours.

Wonwoo couldn't tear his eyes off you, but the same went for you. He captivated you once again. So easily. And he didn't even try.

"The owners of the club are old friends of ours," Jihoon spoke up, making you turned towards him, but you still caught the sigh escaping the other man's lips as he shook his head,

"Friends..."

"They were." The lawyer repeated, much sterner this time and definitely directed at Wonwoo.

"Exactly, there WERE."

"But they'd still help you," Jihoon argued, "If they saw you at the Monbebe, you don't think they'd want to talk?"

The CEO nodded with a smirk, "OH, I know they'd want to talk, but I wouldn't let them finish whatever the fuck they're gonna say."

"Well then, you're gonna have to learn to in order to get those security camera videos."

You switched your weight from one leg to the other as you crossed your arms, "You think they're just gonna give us that footage?"

Jihoon motioned you a clear 'no' with his head, "No, not just like that. But if that idiot over there could get the stick out of his ass, I'm sure they'd be more willing to do it... Maybe bring Mingyu along too. They always got along with him the best."

Your gazes switched between the annoyed CEO and the calm but smug-looking lawyer, while you stood in the middle, unsure of what was to come next. Wonwoo was for sure not going to take the next word as his friend's last sentence was still running through his mind. You decided to take the initiative to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

"So...?" Eyeing the two men, "What are we gonna do?"

Jihoon took a seat behind the desk again, leaning back in the chair, looking straight at you, "You might want to go shopping."

"What?" You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, "Why?"

 A quick glance at Wonwoo made the smile on his face only go wider, "The Monbebe is... how would you put it, Wonwoo?"

"Don't." The other man growled, catching you off guard, but Jihoon chuckled.

"It's... a very special kind of club. With... a very special audience."

But that only fed into your confusion.

-

"You’re kidding.” You stated matter-of-factly, rather than as a question, gazing at Wonwoo with raised eyebrows. Your eyes travelled to the dress he held by the hanger. Scratch that. Piece of cloth, that’s what it was. You could not call that a dress or any type of clothing, just something that should represent a form of shorts? Undergarment? A small little cover of some sort with a top not wider than a headband.

“Underwear has more fabric than that.” Your comment made him chuckle, followed by a roll of his eyes.

“You wanted to find out what the Monbebe was all about. And I hate to break it to you, but this is exactly what women that go to that club would wear. Although this here is already very modest for that kind of club.” He put it back on the clothing line and continued walking behind you as you passed multiple other racks filled with not much different attire than he had just held in his hands.

“I don’t want to find out what that club is like, especially after what you told me, but if Jihoon thinks we could get the security footage by talking to them, or with you talking to them, then I’d say let’s give it a try,” you explained while continuing your search of something appropriate to wear.

He swallowed the ball that had formed his throat, "You know if you'd just stay at home like I proposed-"

"No," you turned around too quickly for him to react, catching him off-guard as you pressed your fingers into his chest, "Don't even start with that shit again. We're in this mess because of me." Before you could continue, Wonwoo wrapped his much bigger hand over yours, releasing your finger from touching him, but keeping you just as close as he leaned down.

"And you don't even start with THAT. We're in this because your ex is a fucking moron. This could've happened to anyone he wanted to fucked over."

You shared two more seconds of silence, just gazing into each other's eyes before a voice tear you apart again.

"Hi," she screeched into your ear, "Can I help you find something?"

"N-"

"Yeah, we're looking for something for her to wear to the Monbebe," Wonwoo answered for you, earning himself a quick glare from you that just made him nudge you towards the direction the over-motivated lady was heading.

"Oooh! Special night, I see, I see," she rushed over to a corner you didn't even dare to look at, already sensing the 'not my style' vibes from miles away. "Well," she picked out the first outfit, as skimpy as it could get, "You can never go wrong with a classic black bodysuit."

"That- That's not really what I was going for, you know?"

She shoved it back on the rack, nodding quickly, "Alright, alright, well then, what exactly were you looking for?" Her big caramel eyes were digging holes into your soul, almost making you want to give in and just go with whatever fabric would cover the most important parts of your body. What a great selling strategy...

"Something...." you started motioning around your body, trying to think of the right way to say out loud what was going on in your head, "that maybe looks a little bit more like... clothing?"

The questioning tilt of her head made you sigh in frustration, but Wonwoo was quick to come to the rescue.

"Maybe more coverage. More fabric."

You nodded, holding in a deep breath, "Yeah... that would be great," looking back at the woman, who just stared blankly at you, blinking with her big eyelashes.

"More coverage? For the Monbebe?"

"I already explained that to her, but... yeah," the CEO nodded in defeat.

The sales assistant seemed to think for a few seconds before clapping her hands, "Okay okay, I think I may have a few pieces, but I'm gonna have to check the back. How about you go take a seat in the changing rooms, and I'll get back to you once I've got something."

The two of you went off on your own, trying to find the changing rooms that were on their individual floor, where you were welcomed by two other women, who just couldn't keep their eyes off the man by your side. You'd like to say it didn't bother you, that you didn't even notice the way their eyes basically undressed him before they turned to each other only to start whispering and giggling like little school girls. Oh, what you'd do to be able to think like that. But that was not the case. You didn't like their gazes on him. You couldn't help but try to stay as close to him as possible. He must've noticed at that point. And that thought made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out again. You prayed he couldn't tell how your heart had started speeding up anytime he had more or less accidentally touched you. You begged he didn't notice the chill running down your spine, making the hair on your body spike up when he would bend down to whisper something in your ear. 

But he did. He observed you like homework. He wanted to be able to read you better than anyone else. And he wasn't going to be subtle about it - why should he? He had already confessed almost on his knees to you, what else was there to lose? You already held his heart and his dignity in your soft hands, whether you knew about that yet, he wasn't sure, but he was going to find out. There was no doubt about that.

You had taken a seat in one of the dressing rooms, the curtain still open, giving you a perfect view of Wonwoo, who was sitting right in front of you, making himself comfortable on the soft cushions in the middle of the room, probably specifically made for the boyfriends to wait for their girlfriends. Or rather sugar daddies that would wait for their sugar babies to put on a show for them in the dress they would be getting just for them.

"Sooo...," you wanted to break the stillness and tension that had started building up, "What exactly is the dress code for the Monbebe?"

He leaned back slightly, the upwards shift of his hips didn't go unnoticed by you, making you take a deep breath in. "You want mine or the official one?" Wonwoo had his head turned to the side, leaving you to stare at the sharp line of his jaw.

"What?"

He looked at you. Gazed at you.

"Come as you are. Be and feel free. Don't hide. That's how they word it."

"And yours...?"

A sigh tumbled from his lips, "Skimpy. As less as possible to give us easy access."

You scrunched your eyebrows at his comment, "Us?"

He met your eyes with a guilty look, "Men." You nodded. Right... you remembered the explanation of him in the car. What the Monbebe club was. A whorehouse basically. The more known and official designation was 'Gentlemen Club' but everyone knew what it really was. You felt the sick feeling in your stomach come back when your mind brought you back to that part of your conversation.

"So, prostitution?"

"Pretty much," Wonwoo had looked out of the window the entire ride, not even sending you a quick glance.

"But," you swallowed at the hard fact that was reality, "I mean, it's definitely not legal, but the police doesn't care about it, right? They just seem to turn blind when it comes to that. Those women know what they're doing, so... why do Jihoon and you talk so bad about it?"

"Because they don't." You stopped at a red light and turned to face him, answering him with a questioning hum, hoping to get his attention. He did change his line of sight but kept his head straight ahead, still not meeting your eyes. "It's not consensual prostitution."

Oh.

"I mean," he cleared his throat uncomfortably, "In a way, it is because they're the ones who come to Monsta X to start working there, but... their... clients... and visitors... they can do whatever the fuck they want with those women. And they can cry as loud as they want... it doesn't bother those pigs. If anything, it only turns them on even more."

You had heard enough.

Disguised as a club with a bar, but in the back was where the 'fun' for the visitors truly was at. Wonwoo had also mentioned something about a fighting/boxing business even further down into the basement, but he didn't want to go into further detail about that area of the entire building, hoping that he'd be able to keep the two of you as far from it as possible.

"But I'm not working there," you told the CEO as he crossed his arms, watching your legs that you crossed, "Why should I dress the same as the women that do?"

"Do you think they care? The people that go there do not give a fuck about who officially works there and who doesn't. They just try to get their hands on anyone that's available and the Monstas need to uphold their honour in the industry." He explained. You could tell he didn't enjoy talking about this which seemed to have been a part of his past at some point. It scared you. He hadn't told you how he had gotten involved with them just yet, but you were terrified to find out. Scared of what side of him would be revealed to you. It seemed like such an unlikely place for a man like him to be, for any of his friends that you had met so far, so you were curious to find out more.

"But...," the start to your question made him look up, "If they're so infamous for such things, how did you guys-"

"Alright!" The familiar voice of the saleswoman rang through your ear, making you stand up. With four steps, you were out of the dressing room, only to stop right next to Wonwoo, but with your eyes on the lady, or rather the stuff hanging on her arm. The questionable things hanging on her arm. Your eyes caught some glitter, some pearls, and... chains?! "I know, I know, some of it might not look THAT good at first, but just try it on and trust me, okay?" She beamed the brightest possible smile at you, her bleached teeth blinding you as you unsurely nodded, opening your arms to get the pieces of clothing handed over. She brushed past you and hung everything on the hangers on the wall before stepping out again,

"I'm gonna leave you two to it, but if you need anything else you can just ring that bell over there," and pointed towards what looked like a light switch. With one last, what you presumed to be, fake smile, she left you two to have the entire floor to yourself.

"Wonwoo...," you gasp-whispered as your gaze travelled across the fabric hanging on the wall.

The CEO shot up from his seat, with one big step closer to the dressing room, pretty much standing inside of it with you, "What? What's wrong?" You didn't notice the slight worry in his voice as you were still trying to calm yourself from the embarrassment you were about to experience as soon as you would put on any of these things.

"What?" He repeated.

You shook your head, "I-I don't know..."

"What do you mean?" He kept on digging for a proper answer from you, but you just stared at him with a blank expression.

"This. This dress. All of them. No." The words fell quickly from your lips before you could even think of properly forming sentences.

"Y/N...," he spoke softly, "You haven't even tried any of them on-"

"Look at them!" 

"I am," he calmly answered you.

You motioned at them wildly with your hands, "Well then, you should see the problem."

"Look," the man sighed once again, "I told you, it's their fucking dress code, if I could change it, I would. Trust me."

"I knowww," you whined, a defeated breath of air leaving your lips. Wonwoo was patient with you. Too patient. But at some point, it had to be over.

"You know, I can still do this on my own-"

"On it," you were quick to interfere, pushing him out of the dressing room, making him fake gasp,

"I don't even get the full show?" You revealed your face from behind the curtain with a scolding expression.

"Watch your mouth, mister." Leaving him with a smirk on his lips to fall back onto the cushioned seats.

Two minutes later, the curtain was pulled back again as your head out, finding his eyes immediately. Before he could even open his mouth, you started,

"I look ridiculous."

He couldn't help but grin at you, "I highly doubt that." Wonwoo couldn't lie, his position was making him excited. The thought of what the clothing this particular store was selling would look like on your body made his own react in ways he wished it wouldn't.

You shook your head, the blush evidently on your cheeks, "You can't see me like this." But that only made him chuckle as he leaned forward, letting his forearms rest on his upper thighs.

"I think we've crossed that boundary a few times already, don't you?" He teased. You knew the answer. But you kept your mouth shut and just motioned him 'no' once again.

"Still."

"Come on," you tilted his head, but you stood your ground, sending him a blank facial expression, "What? You're getting shy now? It's too late for that."

With a sigh, you disappeared again, mumbling a loud enough, "I hate you," for him to hear, making him grin. 

That smirk got wiped off his face as you surprised him by stepping out of the dressing room fully, standing in a skimpy little black lingerie dress in front of him. A dress that pushed your boobs up so much, they almost quelled out of the cups, and your boobs had never been THAT big.

Wonwoo whistled, "Well, hello," his eyes were clearly not on your face.

"Stoooop," you whined, hands coming up to clasp your breasts in defence, hoping to hide a little bit.

He chuckled, "What? I said hello," raising his arms in defence.

You squinted your eyes at him, "I know who you said hello to," hands still on your boobs. The chuckling continued. He couldn't help it. He couldn't hide it.

"And what were you so worried about?" Wongoo genuinely wondered as he kept eyeing you up and down, he really tried to stop but it was almost as if his eyes moved on their own.

You sighed and turned back to take a look in the mirror, your backside now facing him, not making it any better for the poor man in the chair. He decided to stand up to not have your ass on perfect eye level and was only graced with the beauty of your reflection.

Your hands caressed the dress, trying to get every single crease out of it. "I mean-," you breathed out in frustration, "just look at it! The fabric is way too thin, my boobs are on the verge of falling out and one wrong move and I'm flashing my ass to everyone."

"I'm not complaining," he grinned, hoping to get a similar reaction from you, which you gave him, but it quickly changed to a shake of your head.

"Clearly." Wonwoo didn't like the tone of your voice. He knew it all too well. It reminded him of his mother. All the times she would check her reflection in any passing mirror, trying to fix every hair that was possibly laying wrongly on her head. Any tiny smudge of her makeup had to get corrected, and every inch of her body had to either be hidden or look fit and young.

The comments of his father rang through his memory. The words he had thrown at his mother as she, slowly but surely, aged like beautiful fine wine, much to the dismay of his father, who had looked like the molerat he had always been. He hated the way his mum saw herself. Just because that asshole couldn't keep his mouth shut. Wonwoo promised himself to never make that same mistake.

"Well," he wanted to touch you, oh so badly, but he kept his hands to himself. For now. "If my opinion is of any importance to you, I think you look beautiful. But so did you in my old ass university sweater, so I don't know how much of help I really am."

You raised your head, meeting his gaze in the mirror, sending him a shy and tight smile as you grasped the seem of the dress tightly. God... why was he doing this to you. Well, you knew it. He had told you. He told you exactly what he was thinking, so, you knew. But what were you going to do with that information?

"Thank you," you softly told him, to which he just nodded. "But I still don't feel comfortable in this."

"Then let's try to find something you at least find somewhat comfortable to wear," he suggested kindly, sitting back down as you went back into the dressing room, pulling the curtain close before you released a heavy breath.

-

"They can't be serious about this," you commented as you stepped out in your now fifth dress. ...Dress? If you could call it that. It was much rather just a bunch of chains that were intertwined with each other, creating something you could throw over your upper body.

Wonwoo looked up from his phone, putting it back into his pocket immediately. 

"Why are you wearing underwear with that?" He exclaimed, getting a wide-eyed stare from you in return.

You stuttered, "Wh- Am I- Am I supposed to just go bare?!"

"Well, with this, clearly," he stated like it was the most obvious answer possible.

You crossed your arms, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He didn't answer you verbally but just shrugged, making you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

"But this is actually something that a woman would wear to the Monbebe," he quickly added before you could disappear again.

"This?" You pointed to yourself, "Without underwear? Seriously?"

Wonwoo kept quiet for a few seconds, eyes interlocked with yours, before sighing, "I know, you don't actually want me to answer that." You nodded.

With the curtain closed, you started to get undressed again.

"You know," the CEO stated, "The more time we spent here and the more dresses you try on, the less I enjoy the idea of you coming along," he decided to just throw out the facts as they were. He didn't like it at all. He was almost terrified. Almost.

"Well, too bad," you got the dress off and put it back on the wall, "Because you're not getting rid of me now." You could hear the quiet mumble from outside but couldn't make out what he said. But you knew better than to ask him and just decided to let it pass.

Standing half naked in front of the dresses, you realised that the fifth one had been the last, and now you were left in your underwear, gazing at the clothing in desperation.

"You okay?" Wonwoo had gotten up and walked towards the curtain, his voice now closer than before.

You sighed, "That was the last one. Last dress."

"So then? Which one is it gonna be?" He wondered, only adding to your frustration.

"I don't know," you soughed, running a hand through your hair, "No fucking idea..."

"What about that third one," the CEO suddenly suggested, "You said that wasn't too bad, right? I think it was the best out of all of them."

You reached out to look for the mentioned piece of clothing, getting it out and hanging it at the front once you had found it, studying it with your arms crossed.

"But you said it had too much fabric on it," you argued.

"Mh, guess why it was my favourite," he commented back, almost getting a chuckle out of you. "Do you need help?" His question made you grin.

"No!" You shouted back, "Don't you dare come in here." Looking at the curtain as it started moving, you found fingers creeping in and grasping the seem of the hanging fabric, making you jump forward and slap it before poking your head out.

"Won-" you hisses but stopped as soon as you realised just how close you were all of a sudden. This position felt familiar with him. Too familiar. You could feel his breath on your lips, and you did not mind at all. It was too close and yet not close enough.

"Are you sure, you don't need any help?" He whispered.

The breath that left your lips was clearly shaky, yet you hoped he didn't notice. Although... maybe it wouldn't be too bad if he did notice it... right?

You smiled shyly, "Yes... thank you."

Wonwoo copied your facial expression, "Look how considered I am."

"Mh," you hummed with a nod, "May I go back and change now?"

"I'm not stopping you," he stated, smirking, knowing damn well what he was doing. Without another noise, you were about to close the curtain fully again. "Y/N," but his soft voice stopped you and made you look back at him. Why did he still have to be so close?

"This morning," he started, "What did you want to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"In the kitchen. Before we got interrupted." He didn't take his eyes off of yours, but you couldn't help but to lower your gaze, feeling intimated by his question. The gentle touch of his finger made you lift your head again, "I think there's something we need to catch up on." The almost kiss. Before Binna ruined your pretty much perfect morning. Was he so caught up on that? The memory made you grin. Oh how bad you wanted to kiss him. You still wanted to. Damn you Wonwoo...

"You really want to do this here?"

"A beautiful woman is half-naked in front of me. What more could I ask for?" His comment received a soft chuckle from you, "But I want you to do it. Because you want to, not because you feel like you have to."

"Wonwoo...," another whisper escaped your lips as you could feel yourself leaning more into him, now only millimetres away from his lips. He noticed it too.

"I just need to know that you want to," he copied your tone, his hand coming up to brush your hair on the side of your face.

You would've trusted your heart to stop right then and there. It was beating so hard, it had to be close to exploding. Your breathing had quickened, the adrenaline rushing through your body just like you had missed it.

You nodded so very gently, someone could've missed it, "I want to." Earning an even wider grin from Wonwoo.

"Well then," he just answered, not moving from his position, waiting for you to continue. You knew what you had to do. And yes God, it didn't matter how much of a mistake this maybe was, you were about to do it. Just one last time, you dared to look down at the man's lips, before meeting his gaze again. That was the last thing you saw as you closed your eyes and finally closed the small gap between the two of you. Finally. It had been way too long. Well, at least it felt like it. The soft moans coming from both of you just emphasized that. Finally, you felt his lips move against yours again. His hand held your cheek, his thumb brushing smoothly over your skin, trying to pull you in closer while you had a tight grasp on the curtain, hiding your body from the chest down. It didn't matter that you were in the middle of a clothing store. You could not give less of a fuck. What mattered was the man in front of you with his lips on yours, keeping you as close as he possibly could. The lips you had found so much comfort in.

Whatever this was... it was complicated, yes. But you were so ready to find out what exactly it was and how you could make it work. Finally ready. 

You pulled back before it could get any more heated, out of breath, your eyes met again. You bit down on your lip as he opened his mouth.

"I meant what I said last night."

You looked down with a soft grin, "How often are you gonna say that?"

"Until you believe me," he stated, finding your hand that was still choking the fabric of the curtain. 

Your gazes met. His once cold and dark eyes had turned so soft. The face you had once wanted to avoid at all cost had become so warm and comforting to you. You felt seen. You felt safe.

The subtle nod of his head brought you out of your trance, "Go change, we gotta get ready for later."

You turned around, careful to not let go of the curtain, taking the clothing hanger with the 'dress' into your hands, "Okay, take that for a second, we still gotta pay for that. I'll-"

"Alright done." He grasped the dress and took a few steps back to give you some space again.

"What?" Your question made him look up, "When?"

"I gave them my card and told them which dress you're gonna take," Wonwoo got a hold of his phone, just shrugging his shoulders, looking as comfortable as ever while you were still desperately hiding your body behind a curtain.

You squinted, "How did you know which dress I was gonna pick?"

He stared at you with his soft gaze, "You really think I would've let you pick any of the others?"

-

Already out of breath, you kept running through your apartment, trying to find the pieces of accessories you were looking for, groaning when they weren't in the bathroom, or your bedroom. You rushed into the living room, hoping you had maybe left them on the coffee table, but no luck. You had been looking for your earrings for at least ten minutes. Ten long minutes. After showering and literally shaving every single inch of your body, you had taken the time to do your makeup better than ever before, but now the problem was something else. Fucking earrings.

The shoes you should wear were already waiting for you in the hallway, along with the little black bag you had decided on. With one last groan, you chose to forget about the accessory and went back into the bedroom to finally put on the dress as you were sure Wonwoo would be here in no less than five minutes.

You took it out of its cover, revealing the beautiful stitch it had, along with the chains and pendant attached to it. It was gorgeous. Hot. Nothing you'd ever wear anywhere outside, not even a nightclub - and you had been to clubs before.

Putting in on seemed easier back at the store, you realized as you tried to close the last hook in the back. God dammit... why did expensive clothing also have to be so extra.

The ringing of your phone caught you off guard, making you have to walk into the living room again, where it had sat on the sofa. Wonwoo's name lit up the phone screen as you accepted the call, still trying to somehow get that freaking dress to close.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you can come down, we're here."

"Ehm...," you thought about it for a good second before continuing, "Could you maybe come up?"

"Why?" His voice was laced with confusion, and a little bit of worry, "Are you okay?"

You quickly assured him, "Yeah yeah yeah, I just... I need help with this dress, I ca-"

"On my way."

"Thank you," a gentle smile crept its way onto your face, "Fourth floor, ap-"

"I know." Were you ever going to be able to finish sentences with that man around? Who knew.

Not even two minutes later, there was a knock on your door, letting you know he had arrived. With your hands still behind your back, you entered the hallway, opening the door just a little to make sure that it, in fact, was who you were waiting for.

"Hi," you beamed brightly at him.

"Hey," your facial expression made him chuckle. He was about to ask you something else, but the sight of your entire figure in front of him made him stop, "Wow..."

You rolled your eyes as you felt the heat in your cheeks come up, "Don't."

"What? Am I not allowed to compliment a beautiful-looking woman." You didn't know what to say. What do you answer to a comment like that just being thrown at you? Multiple of those comments as a matter of fact. 

Wonwoo's eyes fell on your hands that were holding onto the piece of clothing in the back. He took a step forward to get closer to you, making you almost breathe out at the sudden close distance when he put his hands on your shoulders to turn you around. His hands replaced yours. "You're gonna have to get used to me complimenting you."

You shrugged, "I just don't know how to react."

"Then you're gonna learn," he placed his palm on your lower back, "Done." You turned back around to meet his gaze.

"What if I don't want to?" The teasing question even surprised you, but for some reason, it felt fitting. And God did it feel good.

He grinned, his eyes running down your hair, his fingers followed, "You'll have to." Making you roll your eyes with a shy smile,

"You don't look too bad yourself, Mister Jeon." You brushed an invisible piece of lint off his suit jacket. Seeing him in suits every day at work didn't change the excitement that crept up your stomach at the sight of him in this clearly much more expensive anorak. All black.

"Shoes on." You nodded at the demand and brushed past him to bend down, forgetting how short your dress actually was. Only when you felt the sudden wash of cold over your clothed core, you shot up again, taking the shoes to the little stool you had placed in the hallway. Wonwoo waited patiently for you, watching you put on one shoe when he bent down onto one knee, taking the other shoe into his hand before moving to put it on your foot.

"Thank you," you told him, watching his fingers move so gently and skillfully over your skin, trying to make sure he tied the strings of the heels just the same way you did with the other one.

With a pat on your leg, he let you know he was finished, looking up to smile at you. If you hadn't been sitting down, you for sure would've melted to the floor at the look on his face. When had the cold-hearted bachelor turned so soft?

"Ready?"

You shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter, moving closer to him unknowingly as you put your hands underneath your thighs, trapping them between skin and cushion.

"I don't know," you let him know in full honesty, shaking your head in the process.

"As long as you stay next to me, you'll be fine. Alright?" He tried to find your eyes as you looked away, not being able to shake the unweary feeling you had about this whole situation you were about to run into. "I won't let anyone there touch you. I promise." His hand on your knee assured you even more of his statement. He promised. You knew he meant it.

With a nod, you agreed, "I know."

For a few more seconds the two of you stayed in your positions, sharing gazes as you watched his eyes go from concerned to reassuring to... something you couldn't quite put your finger on. So much had happened over the past few months for you to sit right there with the man in front on his knees. Just like he told you... 

"What?" His question brought you back, making you shake your head,

"Nothing, let's go." You stood up to walk past him, but his hand on your naked leg stopped you when he stood back up, only to let it travel up slowly, knowing damn well what it did to you when he caught your eyes again, and your lips slightly parted.

"What was that look on your face?" Again, he tried to dig deeper. You shook your head. But you knew there was no escape from him. If he wanted something, he'd get it.

His fingers grasped your chin to make you look at him. You were quick to wrap your hands around his wrist, ready to pull back whenever you wanted to. If you ever wanted to. 

The raise of his eyebrows let you know that he wouldn't move until you answered his question in proper words, so you took a slightly deeper breath.

"I was just trying to read you."

You saw his eyes falling to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "You don't have to try to read me. Just ask me."

A quick look down at your shoes got you the small amount of confidence that would hopefully be enough for what you were about to do.

"Can I ask you something?" You whispered.

He nodded, "Everything," lowering his voice to match yours.

You swallowed, tightening your grip on his wrist, as your heartbeat quickened, "Can you kiss me?"

He grinned right away and didn't waste a second to pull you in, only stopping when your lips brushed against each other before he whispered, "You don't have to ask for that."

You could've cried if you wanted to. The emotions had been building up for too long, and there were oh so close to spilling out of you.

The passion his lips wrote all over yours let the tingle in your stomach errupt. The butterflies were finally freed from their cage, letting an exciting chill run across your entire body. God... it felt so good. Too good. His warmth made you feel finally safe again. You felt... loved. Truly loved. Cared for. Anything you could ask for. Right there in front of you.

But all good must come to an end, and so did this kiss.

Wonwoo smiled all so gently at you again, his thumb caressing the faded touch of his lips left on yours, almost making you moan.

"Ready?"

But even in your dizzy state, you were able to hear him. You saw him. You felt him.

You answered him with a nod, followed by a soft, "Yeah."

-

In the car, driven by Hongseok, on the way to the club, the two of you had fallen into a comfortable small-talk-like conversation. Wonwoo let you know about the day in the office run by Mingyu as the two of you had been busy. He also informed you that the co-CEO would not be joining you that evening since he "never wants to ever put another foot into the cursed, run by the devils themselves, building", as he had worded it apparently.

The man's rough hand was on your naked thigh throughout the entire drive. It wasn't uncomfortable. Not at all. It didn't even make you nervous. It just made you feel safe. But you couldn't hide the shaky breath tumbling from your lips whenever he'd start moving that freaking thumb over your skin. Fucking tease.

Before you knew it, Hongseok notified you of your arrival, making the breath get stuck in your throat. You were about to enter a lion's den. A literal hell, just like Mingyu had put it. If it wasn't for the CEO next to you, you would've already had the worst nervous breakdown of your life, but his presence assured you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you. He promised.

The driver opened the door for you and you were greeted with a mix of blue, red, and purple light blinding your eyes once you stepped out, Wonwoo's hand right there to help and steady you before his moved to the small of your back, leading you forward. You two thanked Hongseok and wished him a good evening before he disappeared again, but not without sending you a warm smile.

You walked ahead, stopping a few feet away from the bouncer in front of the big, fancy-decorated doors. There was no line, which surprised you, but they probably wouldn't want to catch too much attention, you explained to yourself.

"Jeon," the big man suddenly exclaimed, making you jump at the tone of his voice. Not welcoming, that was for sure. "The fuck are you doing here?"

"Good to see you too Sidae," Wonwoo nodded at him, changing the placement of his hand as it was suddenly in front of you, making you pause in your tracks.

"Why are you here?" The man was not about to let you two off easily, you could tell. His eyes came to you, running up and down your body, sending an uncomfortable chill down your spine.

The CEO closed the button on his jacket, "I need to talk to them."

The doorman was quick to shake his head, crossing his arms in front of his massive chest. "They're gonna talk to you."

"And how would you know that?" Wonwoo argued back, earning himself a growl from the man in front of you to which your arms snaked over his, trying to keep close to him. His hand immediately found yours, hoping to give you some form of comfort.

"Do I have to remind you of what happened the last time you and your friends were here? The mess you idiots left." His comment made you scrunch your eyebrows in question. Wonwoo hadn't told you everything. He didn't want you to know the entire story of this part of his past. But slowly more and more was coming to the surface, whether he wanted to or not.

The CEO looked around, "Am I here with my friends? I don't see them anywhere," annoying the bouncer just a tad bit more, "Just me. And I just want to talk."

The big man in front of you nodded towards you, "And her?"

"You really think she's gonna start something?"

"I don't trust any bitches you bring along," he commented, earning a warning glare from Wonwoo.

"Careful with your words, man. I'd better shut my mouth if I were you." Even though the man was double Wonwoo's size, he didn't seem intimidated in the slightest. The past they shared together must add to that.

The bouncer sighed, before turning to the barricade, opening it and motioning for you two to go through. The man on your arm took a step first, making you follow. You didn't get far though as the doorman stopped you by grabbing Wonwoo harshly by the arm.

"If I hear anything about you starting God knows what shit, it's over for you, Jeon." If you hadn't gotten the message before, you sure as hell got it now. You gulped. Wonwoo just nodded relaxed, opening the door to let you go in first, but he was still hot on your step.

Immediately, loud music and darkness, only lit up by the same colour as outside surrounded you. While the entrance was empty, only men lined up next to each other, one bigger than the one next to them - must've been bouncers too - the open space, functioning as a dance floor was FILLED. You didn't think another person could fit into the mass. The bar to the side was fairly empty too, with only a few men sitting there, waiting for one of the women that walked through the room to stop by their side.

Your eyes widened when you saw the outfits. That's what Wonwoo meant... Those were rarely clothes... not even underwear... you guess they were supposed to be covers, but they hardly covered anything. There were a few women in another corner that were wearing slightly more, but still not enough for a normal nightclub in your opinion. You felt out of place. Wildly out of place.

Wonwoo was next to you again within a second, taking your hand and taking it to loop your arm with his.

"Just follow me, okay?" He shouted over the loud music, to which you nodded.

He took you to the right and right before you passed the bar, he brought you in front of him, his hands securely on your hips as he lead you straight forward, past all of the men on the side and women on the other. It was bigger than you expected. From the outside, it looked like a smaller nightclub but just could tell that that was just an illusion.

One more turn around the corner and through deep black curtains, you found yourself in front stairs but waited for Wonwoo to continue. He noticed you hesitating and stepped forward, taking the first step down. He turned around again, extending his hand for you to take and leading you down.

Black stone surrounded you, and the temperature dropped a significant amount as you were now in a basement - still lit up by blue, red, and purple lights.

Arrived on the lower floor, two signs let you know where everything was. With one look to the right and left, you also found multiple doors, leading to more rooms. You could guess what was going on behind those doors. Wonwoo had told you, and you didn't want to imagine what those men were possibly doing with the women that worked there.

You were dragged towards the 'lounge', passing all those doors. You didn't question anything, you knew this was the moment to shut your mouth. If you had any questions, you could ask those later.

The two of you came to a stop at the end of the hallway, one bright red door right in front of you. Your eyes fell to Wonwoo to your left, watching his chest rise before falling again. Maybe he wasn't as relaxed as he pretended to be. You squeezed his hand a little tighter, just to let him know that you were also still there. He wasn't about to do this alone. He copied your action, followed by a gentle shake of your hands.

He brought his other hand up to the door, knocking hard against it three times. Not even trying to open it, he knew only seconds later it would open up just like it was supposed to. His hand dropped yours the moment a beam of light came from the other room. You looked to your side, hoping to catch his attention as you didn't expect the sudden action. He sent you an assuring smile, tapping your palm with his finger before looking straight ahead again, walking in first to keep you secure behind him.

You were about to follow him when the sight in front of you made you stop in your tracks. A lounge with a big U-sofa, massive even. But more importantly, were the people on the couches. You found three men, sitting with their legs wide apart, surrounded by multiple women, one dressed skimpier than the other, all over those men. Their lips and hands running all over their bodies and all you could do was stare blankly.

The one in the middle caught your attention first as he saw you walk in. A bright smile, that you could only describe as creepy, brightened up his face.

"Jeon Wonwoo!" He shouted, pushing the women off him while gaining the attention of the other men left and right who had turned to look at the two of you. "A face I never thought I'd ever see again." With a slight tilt of his head, he also met you. A wink was sent your way making you quickly walk up right behind the CEO. The door behind you closed. Turning around you found two security men on either side of it. Those people here really care for their safety apparently. "To what do we owe the pleasure? And tell me why I shouldn't tell my men to pop your eyes out of your skull immediately."

You wrapped your arms around your torso in comfort as you started to feel the chill coming down your spine once again. He maybe didn't look as scary. But he sure as hell sounded terrifying.

Wonwoo sighed, putting his hands in his pockets, "Good to see you too, Shownu. And that would just make a terrible mess, don't you think?"

The man on the sofa looked to his left and right, sharing glances with his colleagues before gifting you his attention again.

"Well," he smirked, "Can't be worst than last time, right?"

Can’t even explain how nervous I was finally releasing this bc I haven’t written in so long, I hope I haven’t lost my spark… thank you for taking your time to continue reading this series🤍

Taglist: @nctxtrash @leicy0756 @hoe4wonwoo @jeonwonhi @nothingbutadeadesceane @smileywoo @angelarin @onewoowonderboy @goodforgyu @kavvs @sugarmilkchan @sweetheart-gs @wonforgyu @lilactangerine @meltinghershey @wonw00t @soonchanshua @jayswifeuwu @allorysayshi @shaurenlaw @drama-1998-girl @yoonren07 @malakasae @sseuyeon @venusprada @jeminiepabo @billboard-singer @safsaf1980 @monmarguerite @ji-jii-visha @renjunphile @haogyuslut @destinyg237 @taestrwbrry @renkkuri @travelleratheart101 @love-svt @sunshinein17 @morklee02 @wonuziex @pwwarkjisung @hokuuu @clvudisan @awyunh @restlesswritings @woohaosworld @everyw0nu @woo8hao

[steamberrystudio]

27/08/2023

So now that Gilded Shadows is wrapping up, I am promoting When Stars Collide from "Spare time project" to "Part time project"

What is the difference? Well, when I work on something in my spare time, that means it is late at night or the weekend. Literally when I am not doing anything else and just feel like tinkering with it. 

As a part time project, this means that I will be spending an hour or two each day during the work week to do things for this project. It will start making more steady progress even if I'm not focusing on it full time.

This is basically taking it from me spending 0 - 4 hours on it a week to 8-10 hours on it a week. 

My goal is to have the draft complete before the end of the year (by 'draft', I mean 'rough draft'). But more on that below.

Summary

Finished all scenes for the new chapter three

Finished Yren chapter 6 scenes

Started catching Kav's route up to the others

Edited Asher's CG to account for the new conference room BG

Small adjustments to Wil's first CG

Ramble

This week my big focus for WSC has been on writing. As I mentioned, I really want to get the rough draft completed by the end of the year. Currently the draft is nearly 70% complete (for those following updates in multiple places, when you see different percentages....it's because I've written more since then. Rofl).

Now, the draft was nearly 70% in the past as well but I added another route since then, so I lost some progress due to the increase in target word count. I'm also calculating things more precisely now as I created a newer and fancier writing spreadsheet to track my progress and keep myself on track.

I went back and wrote in the new chapter 3, reorganising all the existing chapters and scenes to accommodate it. 

I finished Yren chapter 6 (which catches him up to Noel and Raif). 

And now I'm working on catching Kav, the new character, up to Yren, Noel, and Raif. (Remember, Daaz and Asher's routes are already fully drafted).

I have written about 15000 words since my last update here. I don't expect to write that much every week and my goal is actually a fair bit more modest than that. Gilded Shadows is not 100% complete yet. I still have multiple KS related things to finish and, of course, I will be making corrections and focusing on its beta testing once testers have had a bit more time with it. 

WSC is still a part time project. This was just a particularly good week for it.

I have also worked on a few other things for WSC - mostly UI related and some art related things.

I received a new BG since my last update, and realised that...I have to revamp all the existing CGs. Or at least update them to change the background elements. I've only edited one so far but I don't think it'll be too much effort to fix the others.

And I continue to streamline and adjust the UI to make it look nicer and be more efficient.

So...

Kav. The new character. Kav'isari Tiaine, a Ka'mérian crew member who works in the space labs most of the time and specialises in identifying alien technology (what species it belongs to and what it does).

To explain where Kav came from, he actually popped into my head months ago. And every so often, I would contemplate whether or not I wanted to add him. I would say I first had the idea in January or February of this year. I would repeatedly think about it and dismiss it.

I then mentioned it to a friend sort of off-handedly back at the very beginning of June. A month and a half later, I mentioned him on a voice call on my server knowing full well that if I really talked about him and had a conversation about him, I would probably end up doing enough character brainstorming that he would become "real." And I talked about him anyway.

And that's exactly how he became an actual character. I think I had his sprite sketched out by the end of that day.

But he had existed as a concept long before that. The main reason I was willing to add him instead of ruthlessly telling myself no is just that I felt there was a gap in the cast for a gadfly style character who has a little mystery to him. And I just knew I could manage another route based on the length of Asher and Daaz's routes.

So...yeah. That is how Kav came into being. His introduction into the story has caused a few minor changes to standing lore or things in the prologue (just mentions of him, etc). But the changes to the currently public content of the game are pretty minor.

Kav won't actually appear in the game until Chapter 3. He gets mentioned a few times up to that point. There are some logistical considerations to his route but I have talked about those more on Patreon.

Speaking of Patreon, now that WSC is moved into "part time" status, I will be starting to slowly release some Patreon-exclusive lore posts for this game there. Like most games monetised through Patreon content, the lore posts will not be critical to having a full and complete game experience. Rather, it is going to be comprised of additional and extra lore content.

Some of the lore content released on Patreon will be in the game (such as character back stories) but Patrons will get to see it early and will get it presented in a different format.

Much of the content can be considered "extras" rather than necessary.

I will also be updating on the development progress weekly there (available to all patrons) rather than bi-weekly, and my updates there (going forward) will tend to be more detailed than the ones here.

Once episode releases start, Patrons will be able to access them before they the public releases. But backing on Patreon is not necessary to be able to play the game and get a full and complete game experience. It's just how this particular game will be monetised as I'm looking for more sustainable release styles so I can continue to make games.

That is all for this update. I will see you in a couple of weeks to talk about WSC again!

[storiesbyrhi]

Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 4: Starcourt

Eddie Munson x Chubby & Inexperienced!Reader 4322 words A sneak peek at what to expect from this fic here

Previous Chapters: 1 - Valium; 2 - Carrie; 3: Honey

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; no beta; warnings updated each chapter

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: Quality time. Acts of service. Words of affirmation. Gift giving. Physical Touch. All the languages of love are here and accounted for.

When you were in Eddie’s room, it was like there was no line between where your body ended and the universe began. You were at peace, not monitoring yourself and your body for a million and one inconsequential things.

How do the rolls of my belly look like this? Was that a dumb thing to say? Is there snot in my nose? How much space am I taking up? Is my armpit hair peaking out? Did that laugh sound weird? Should I have shaved my legs?

You just existed in the moment, and the moment was always, completely… Eddie.

Eddie learning to play Metallica songs while you drew pictures of monsters the lyrics made you think of; he stuck them all on his wall with push pins, a collage of your creations growing. Eddie getting high while you watched, instructing him to put his head in your lap, close his eyes, and let you braid his hair. Eddie practicing for the new Hellfire campaign, bouncing around the room doing voices and movements different from his own. Eddie holding out grabby hands to you, begging for cuddles while you watched horror movies until curfew.

It was easy to lose whole days in that room, and you let it happen regularly and happily. It was significantly better than being at your house, where your parents were growing angrier at your distance from them, which they wrongly assumed also meant your grades were slipping.

“That is… Drumroll, please,” Eddie said in his best game show host voice. You drummed your pencils on the kitchen bench of his trailer. “CORRRRRECT! She’s done it again, ladies and gentlemen. The perfect test score!”

Eddie made every practice test like that. Fun. Engaging. Memorable. It anchored your learning to semantic memory. The more time you spent with Eddie, your already good grades were getting even better.

He read your essays, adding tips from when he’d been in that class. Just because he had failed didn’t mean he was dumb. He knew what the teachers wanted; he just lacked the motivation to give it to them. He got you from an A- to an A+ in English, his creative flair helping to give all your pieces that extra special thing teachers loved.

Your parents didn’t want to hear about it though. They barely tolerated hearing Eddie’s name at all. Any evidence that disproved their preconceived idea of him was banned from conversation. Things were becoming tenser with them, which meant you spent more time at Eddie’s, which continued the cycle of shitty parenting and avoidant behaviour.

None of it mattered when you were alone with Eddie.

When you walked side by side, he would lace his fingers between yours or wrap an arm around your shoulder. At the cafeteria table, Eddie’s leg would hook around your ankle. Sometimes he’d reach out and tap on your fingernails like he was playing the piano. Best though, was always going to be being together in that bedroom.

Sitting on his bed, he’d pull your legs over his and hold them. When you sat at his dresser doing school work, he’d sit at your feet and lean against the chair just to be close. The melodies he played then were always soft and always came from his acoustic guitar.

When you got sleepy, he’d tell you to nap, then hold you close as a big spoon should. He was careful where he placed his hands, knowing it would take one wrong move to make your self-consciousness snap back in an instant. So, he’d often just hold his arms off you a little bit and twinkle his fingers, his mute way of telling you to put him where you wanted him.

Eddie kept an eye on the time, never letting you be late for curfew because he knew the wrath it would result in. Even when you protested, even when he had to wake you up, and even when you tried to hide tears, he would usher you out to his van and take you home, feeling like shit the entire way.

Eddie wanted you to fall asleep in his bed and not have to wake until morning.

He wanted you to look in the mirror and see what he saw.

The thing he couldn’t stop thinking about though, the thing he couldn’t help picturing all fucking day, was kissing you.

When your focus was elsewhere, he’d study your lips. The cupid bow. The way you sucked your bottom lip in when you were anxious or concentrating. The lip balm you used that was meant to be unscented but he swore was vanillary.

He was a man possessed by a singular thought and it was getting ridiculously distracting. He wanted you to be ready but he wouldn’t know when that was unless he asked you. So, that’s what he’d do. Eddie decided on a course of action and plotted it out in his mind, all while watching you politely listen to Dustin and Mike try to convince you that their respective girlfriends were better than the other’s.

“Um… They both sound really cool,” you offered.

“No, but El is like, a superhero,” Mike repeated for the sixth time.

“Nobody knows what that means,” Gareth said from across the table.

“Suzie has long curly hair, huh? Huh?” Dustin said, elbowing you like you’d know what that was code for. You just shrugged at him. “You love people with long curly hair!” Dustin clarified, annoyed that he had to spell it out. He pointed at Eddie, who was lost in his own ‘I’m gonna kiss her so much’ plans.

You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, smiled at the far-off expression on his face, then turned back to the freshmen. “I just… don’t really… want to compare girls like that. Can’t they both just be the best?”

Dustin groaned and Mike pushed his lunch tray away dramatically.

“They’re probably not the best,” Gareth said, making the freshmen freeze and glare. “I mean, what kind of girls would date you losers?”

A trail mix and potato-tot fight ensued.

…

Starcourt Mall 2.0 was not the destination you expected to arrive at. Looking over at Eddie, you cocked your head in confusion.

“Trust me,” he said.

“You literally were going on about how you’re glad it burnt down the other day,” you reminded him. There was a speech about how all the shops in the mall were part of the man’s plan to make everyone look the same. Dress the same. Eat the same. While Eddie didn’t walk on tables to make his point, it was all very dramatic.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but it got me thinking. They rebuilt, so maybe, you know, different stores,”

“Okay, that’s… fair…”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Eddie said. “I promised a special date and now we’re at the mall. But-”

“Trust you?” you finished for him.

Eddie grinned and nodded. He jumped from the van and came to open your door, something he did religiously. Sometimes he’d say an accompanying ‘my lady,’ or just bow at your service.

As you walked through the mall hand-in-hand with Eddie, you took stock of how the mall had changed. Before the fire, you’d go there all the time. When you were with other cheerleaders, the group of you were a force to be reckoned with. People would scatter out of the way, afraid of being targeted by way too cool teenage girls. It was more about being there and being seen, rather than the act of consumerism. Although, new lipstick and dresses were often purchased, and often at the command of Hayley.

You didn’t miss that, but as you walked by the book store, you remembered quiet Sunday afternoons with Chrissy. Picking out romance novels and giggling over pages when they got steamy. Sometimes you missed her, but required to pick between you and the rest of the cheer squad, Chrissy chose the path of least resistance.

 “So, I don’t think you were listening, had your head buried in Pet Sematary-”

“It’s really good!” you chimed in.

Eddie smiled. “I thought you’d like it. But the other day, when Wheeler was talking about his kid sister, you weren’t paying attention?” He waited for you to confirm, which you did. “Good, so, he said his mum made him take her here. I know it’s like, for kids, but it’s kind of fucked up when you think about it. And it’s cute. So I thought it was, I don’t know, representative… Of us,”

“We’re… cute and fucked up?” you asked, trying to figure out what the hell he could be talking about.

“Yeah. Basically. Um, and I checked, you know, that we could do it. That it wasn’t literally only for children,”

“That we could do what?”

Your question was timed perfectly as you walked around a corner and arrived at a brightly lit store with rainbow colours painted on the walls.

“Build a bear!” Eddie announced.

The shop was more of a one-room workshop. To the right was a wall of soft toys, teddies and cats and puppies and some creatures you didn’t recognise. Below them were bins full of, well, the skins of the soft toys. You watched a kid pick one up and take it over to a girl sitting at a big machine full of fluffy teddy stuffing. The stuffing was rolling around in the machine, warm and alive.

“I’m gonna name mine Angel,” Eddie said, pulling you into the store.

“You’re right… This is kind of fucked up,” you mused, holding the skin of a brown highland cow teddy in your hands.

Eddie nodded, making a half giggle half snort sound as he pulled a baby pink and horrifically hollow cat out of a bin.

“Hi! Welcome to Build-a-Bear. My name is Kasey and I’ll be your bear builder today. Have you chosen a pawsome friend to join your family?!”

Kasey was full of pep on the outside but you figured she was probably dying on the inside. Maybe that’s why she was at your sides so quickly – any chance to serve someone other than a screaming six-year-old.

“You don’t have to… like… do the whole thing,” you said to her.

Kasey shrugged. “It’s honestly easier than trying to have a genuine conversation every time. I used to work at McDonalds. This is way better,”

“But no free fries,” Eddie joked.

Kasey looked at him with the dead-eyed vacant expression of a retail worker. “There were no free fries. Anyway, that your pick?” she asked him, pointing to the pink cat. Eddie nodded. “And you’ve got Longhorn?”

“That’s his name?” you asked, looking at the dead cow in your hands.

“They’re all Longhorn, until you know, you name it,” she answered, leading you to the stuffing machine. “We’ll fill them up then you can put whatever you want in there.”

Eddie had his cat filled firmly, so she would sit in a cute pose on one of his guitar amps. Yours was much more soft, floppy and cuddly in your arms.

“These are their hearts,” Kasey said, handing you each a small red pillowed heart. “Next, we do the Build-a-Bear heart ceremony. Shake it up in your palms to bring them to life. Rub their hearts on your forehead so the bears will be smart.”

You weren’t sure if she was serious, but Eddie was already smooshing the heart into his head, so you copied him.

“Rub your cheeks, so the bears will be cheeky. And on your back, so they'll always have your back. Lastly, over your hearts, so they’ll be full of love. Now they’re ready. Put them inside,”

“Wait. Here. Have mine,” Eddie said, pushing his heart into the open stitching of your cow.

“Then here,” you replied, gifting his cat your heart.

Kasey pulled at the threading of the teddies and sewed them close. She directed you to where you could pick an outfit for them.

“Holy shit. These bears have better career options than me,” 

“I don’t see a rockstar outfit though,” you said looking at the uniforms and clothing on offer. You walked away from Eddie to where you spotted a tiny leather jacket.

When you reconvened at the counter, Eddie’s cat was dressed in a denim jacket, much like the one you were wearing. He grinned at your own choice, taking it and making it kiss the cat.

“Oh my god,” you squealed, snatching the toys from Eddie. 

You put the bears on the counter, and let Eddie pay for them.

“You get a birth certificate,” the woman at the counter said. She pulled two pre-printed pieces of paper out and handed you both a pen.

You watched Eddie write ‘Angel’ in his best handwriting in the blank space on his certificate.

Looking down at your own, you thought. Obviously, you had chosen the highland cow for his messy mop of hair and big brown eyes, but you didn’t really want to name him Eddie. With no other nicknames, you had to brainstorm quickly. ‘Hellfire’ seemed fitting, and when you glanced at Eddie, the smile on his face was all the reassurance you needed.

Eddie thanked the bear builders and handed you Hellfire while putting Angel under his arm. “I’m hungry,” he said, taking your free hand and walking from the store.

Eddie had learned not to politely ask ‘are you hungry’ or ‘do you want something to eat’ because you would always say no. If he hid his care for you under a cloak of his own needs, you’d usually follow his lead. His second trick was dubbed sharing is caring.

“Do you wanna share some nachos?”

“Yeah, ‘kay,” you replied, sitting at the food court table Eddie had placed Angel on.

“You look after the children,” he said with a shameless smile.

Alone in the middle of a place that used to mean something so different to you, you felt strange. Kind of spacey. By the time Eddie returned, the biggest plate of nachos you had ever seen put on the table, you were zoned out.

“I got extra guacamole. ‘Cause you love avocado,” he told you. Eddie hated avocado, so he rotated the plate so the green was closer to you. “Hey. You okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning your expression, then the food court.

“Yeah. Just thinking,”

“Good stuff?”

Nodding, you replied, “Yeah.”

You used the plastic fork to eat a solid portion of the food. Eddie used his hands and went through a pile of napkins. You accepted his offer to share his milkshake, and you let him down half your Dr Pepper in return.

“You’re quiet,” he said as you made your way back through Starcourt to the parking lot.

“I know… I'm okay though,”

“What’s happening? Up here?” Eddie motioned to his own head, kind of circling it like he was drawing a halo.

“Uh… I don’t really… know. It’s weird. I’m like… A bit spaced out. But in a good way? I’m not really thinking anything.”

Eddie thought for a second. “I don’t wanna alarm you, but could you possibly be just… you know, happy?”

“Eddie. I’m happy a lot,” you said defensively enough that he knew he was on to something.

“Yeah, I know, but like, maybe you’re just... really here. Right now. In this minute.”

Eddie stopped at your side of the van and held your hand as you stepped up into the passenger seat. You took Angel from him, hugging her and Hellfire to you.

Your nose tingled and tears pricked at the sides of your eyes. Eddie stepped closer, the height difference between you removed by your seated position. You sat back a little and watched him look at you carefully. He was waiting for you to say something, but you couldn’t. Words would get stuck behind the lump in your throat.

A small nod was all you could offer, but for Eddie, it was poetry in motion.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

The food in your stomach flipped and your teeth clenched together with anxiety. You were entirely freaked out, but you had never wanted something so desperately before. Again, all you could do was nod. He asked if you were sure. Somehow, you managed to squeak out, “Yes.”

Eddie carefully closed the gap between you, pushing his forehead against yours. Your eyes closed immediately and you took a sharp breath in. Eddie ran his nose along yours, waited for you to breathe out, then gently pressed his lips to yours. Before you could think to move, his lips were gone, but he hadn’t moved away.

Eddie’s hands came to cup your face. He kissed you again, lingering a little longer to let you catch up. You kissed back. It was awkward and sweet and you didn’t know what to do because the only other time you’d been that close to someone was a drunk Andy, who mostly just mashed his teeth to yours and tried to make you swallow his tongue.

This was nothing like that.

“You good?” Eddie asked, not moving away from you. 

“Yeah,” you replied, staying still in his hands.

Eddie kissed you, letting you grow a tiny bit bolder, parting your lips against his and waiting for him to do the same. Although you were still a burning ball of nerves, there was something almost second nature about kissing Eddie. It wasn’t that you knew exactly what to do, but you knew whatever you did, it would be right. You couldn’t fuck it up.

“Can we go home?” you asked after the fourth and fifth kiss.

“Yeah, Angel. Let’s go home.”

Letting go of you and stepping back made Eddie ache in a way he’d never felt. He knew it was a love-adjacent feeling, so he didn’t fight it.

On the ride home, you held Angel and Hellfire and tried to not giggle madly.  

…

“I’m serious, Ed, this is not bad at all,” Wayne said, looking in disbelief at the bowl of butterscotch pudding in front of him.

“It’s just sugar and flour,” Eddie dismissed.

10:00 pm was fast approaching and Wayne was due to leave for his night shift at work. Eddie, bored and caught up on homework, found an old recipe book shoved in the back of a kitchen cabinet when he was looking for something sweet. He followed the instructions and produced a more than decent pudding while Wayne woke and got ready.

They ate the dessert together, then Wayne bid his nephew goodnight.

It was a Wednesday night, the week after Build-a-Bear Saturday. You’d spent the rest of the day together in Eddie’s room, figuring out how to kiss each other in a way that would make your knees wobbly and Eddie’s entire body go rigid.

Every moment without you since then was torture. Monday’s classes sucked. Tuesday’s classes sucked. That day’s classes, yep, sucked. Making the pudding was really a welcomed distraction.

“Alright,” Eddie said to himself after ten minutes had gone by and he was still sitting at the kitchen bench staring off into space. He got up and moved the dishes into the sink. He looked at them and they looked back.

The phone rang. Eddie was thrilled. He could pretend the call made him forget to do the dishes.

“Greetings and salutations. You have reached the Munson residence. How may I direct your call?” he answered. Eddie knew the sound of your crying too well. The small sniffles on the other end of the line made all the joy evaporate from him. “Angel? Baby, what’s wrong?”

Standing in a phone booth a couple of blocks from your house, you started to really cry. Of course, he’d know it’s you without you even having to speak.

Eddie let you cry for less than a minute before coaching you through some deep breaths. He said your name a couple of times, then asked where you were. He told you to walk another block over, to where there was an all-night liquor place, and wait for him there.

The guy behind the counter at Hot Shot Liquor watched you sit on the curb outside the store and curl up into yourself. He was going to go out and ask if you needed help, but decided it was none of his business.

As soon as you saw Eddie’s van come around the corner, you were up. He tore out of the driver’s seat and held you tightly when you threw yourself into his arms.

“You’re okay. S’alright. I got you,” he whispered, repeating himself with small changes to sentence structure and word order.

When he felt like you could stand on your own two feet, Eddie pulled away from you just enough to see your face. He put his hands in the sleeves of the Anthrax hoodie he was wearing and wiped your face free from tears, snot, and spit.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” 

You nodded, looking at him through clumped-together eyelashes.

Eddie held your sad face in his hands and studied you for a second before leaning in and kissing you gently. Immediately, you kissed him back, deepening the kiss and adding a needy intensity that Eddie embraced in full.

You had thought kissing was a nice thing. It was about romance and fluffy feelings. But standing under a flickering neon 24/7 Liquor sign, cold and scared, you found out that kissing was now a necessity. You needed it. You needed to feel Eddie’s mouth against yours. You needed to feel like he wanted you like you wanted him. It was about romance, sure, but a feral kind of romance.

“Come on,” Eddie whispered when you both came up for air, his hands still holding you. You nodded into him but made no attempt to move.

He held you for a few more moments, then walked you around the van and helped you up. For the entire drive, he let you keep one of his hands between yours, not letting go to turn corners or park.

Eddie was back at your door to lead you inside. The trailer was warm and smelt good, that was all you really registered. Eddie pulled you along into his room, where you sat on the edge of his bed. He knelt in front of you.

“What do-” Eddie stopped mid-sentence to change his approach. “Do you know what you need? Or what you’d like?”

You looked at him, your eyes still filled with tears. Although you tried to think, tried to help him help you, your mind was all static and emotion. The best you could do was shrug, which you felt dumb and useless for but it was truly all you could do.

“That’s okay. Um, how ‘bout…” Eddie was thinking, his eyes darting around his room for inspiration. He remembered then; he had a surprise for you. Something special in his stockpile of gifts. “Do you want to change into something more comfy?”

Eddie stood and made his way over to where clothes were shoved haphazardly into a set of drawers. You watched him, hoping he wasn’t going to try to offer you any of his own wardrobe. Your cup size alone meant none of Eddie’s t-shirts would fit. If you thought of the size of his thighs compared to yours, you’d vomit.

“Because it just so happens that I got something for you,” Eddie said, his back still to you. “Has to be a secret though. The guys are so fuckin’ precious about the goddamn shirts, if they know I’ve given you one, they’ll lose it.”

Eddie turned around and held up a Hellfire shirt, the same as his, but in your size. Actually, maybe two sizes bigger.

“Figured you’d just wear it here, maybe for when we have our Saturday siestas, or whatever. Whatever you want,” he explained as he handed it to you. “I got it made bigger so it would be extra comfy.”

Your brain was short-circuiting.

Your silence was terrifying Eddie. Wayne had warned him that getting clothes for you would be risky. It involved guessing your size, which Eddie knew was a particular insecurity you had. Had he fucked up?

Eddie crossed his arms across his chest as he waited. Still, silence. He moved one of his hands to his face so he could chew on his fingernails.

“If it’s stupid-”

“It’s not stupid!” you almost yelled, cutting off Eddie. As you spoke you stood, too excited to be self-conscious. You moved to be in front of Eddie’s mirror, threw off the jacket and t-shirt you were wearing, quickly replacing it with the Hellfire shirt.

It fit exactly how you’d want it to and it smelled like Eddie. How long had he been keeping it hidden away in those drawers?

You felt different. It’s like the shirt was magic. Somehow, you didn’t fucking hate your reflection, even with the puffy eyes and messy hair. You kicked off your shoes and decided to go all in, unzipping and pulling off your jeans before you could think about it too much.

Eddie watched all of this in awe. He watched you look at yourself and smile. It was a proper smile. You looked at him then and he swore to god he was going to love you forever. He was going to fucking burst if he didn’t tell you.

“I love you,” he said, the words falling quickly from his mouth.

“I love you too,” you replied. It’s the easiest thing you’d ever said.

After warmed up butterscotch pudding and a debrief about how your parents had crossed the line between controlling and cruel, you cuddled up in Eddie’s bed. The radio was on in the background, turned down enough to be ambient more than clearly audible.

“This okay?” he whispered, his fingers ghosting down your back and along your bare thighs. You nod into him, pressed a kiss to his collarbone. It was more than okay.

Next Chapter - 5: Buzzkill

End Note: Build-a-Bear didn’t open until the late 90s, but I am pretending it was founded in like, 1985-ish, because how perfect was it?

As always, reblogs are king on Tumblr, and the only way content gets seen and shared. Comments and feedback make my entire fucking week.

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @eddie-munson-is-a-sweetheart @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch @harrys-tittie

All Eddie x Reader By Me Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooexxpressoo @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl

[sluts4shigaraki]

BACK TO SCHOOL!

CW ♡ drinking (i dunno if i need to tag this but i will jic)

Pairing ♡ shigaraki/fem!reader

Word count ♡ 2,250

minors/ageless blogs DNI ♡ you will be blocked

A/N ♡ honestly all i can say is… the hoes gon loooove this. i love this chapter. it’s like my baby.

Tags ♡ @klxoewy @cosmicbreathe @gloomysel

DAY FOUR

———————————————————————————

When you woke up, you were curled in a warm spot on the bed. You heard small clicking sounds, and quickly sat up. You turned and saw Tomura curled up in his chair, headphones on, playing some kind of game. Before you tried to get his attention, his eyes flicked over to you. He paused and took his headphones off.

“Sleep good?” Tomura looked better than yesterday. It looked like one good night of rest was all he needed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. How long have you been awake?” You wiped your eyes, and your cheek. You drooled. That was embarrassing. You really hoped you didn’t drool on him.

“I don’t mind. It’s only been an hour. You helped me sleep,” the moment it left Tomura’s mouth he regretted it. He was a creep. He finally got someone to like him, and he’s still being a creep. “S-sorry, that sounds weirder than I thought it would,” the nervousness had settled back in, till you laughed.

“No, it was cute. I slept really good too. Do you have any classes today?” Even though you were excited for Tomura to take you out, you wanted to clean up and maybe find something nicer to wear.

“Uh, no, did you wanna do something? ‘Cause I have an idea of where I wanna take you,” his heart thumped loudly in his chest, he’s never been more worried about a decision. You liked gaming, so maybe you’d like this.

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.”

When you got back to your dorm, you changed into an outfit that made you feel the most confident. It helps that it shows off all the right things in all the right places. As you were getting ready, your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey! I wanna update on the Tomura and you situation,” Ochaco seemed almost as excited as you. “I asked Izuku about it and apparently he’s tried to talk to him a few times. Izuku said he gave him the cold shoulder a lot.”

“Well, I want to his dorm for yesterdays tutoring session, and I just went for it,” you didn’t know how to phrase ‘I made out with a dude in his dorm and fell asleep in his bed and I’ve only hung out with him for like four days’ without sounding like you were insane. “Say, ‘Chaco, do you believe in soulmates?”

“I think it exists. You might have to wade through a lot of bad people, and a lot of good people who don’t fit right. Eventually, though, you’ll meet the one who’s right for you. Do you maybe think he’s yours? I’d say it’s a little early but trust your gut.”

“I dunno. We kissed. it felt so new and yet it felt like I’d done it a million times before. Deep down he’s sweet and gentle, considerate. I think he just pushes everyone away because he’s scared,” rubbing the back of your neck, you sighed. “I just think there’s more to him than he’s willing to show. I wanna figure him out,” Ochaco made a small noise of approval, and you could almost hear her smile.

“If you make him feel safe, he’ll open up. Are you gonna see him today?” This was the hard part. Admitting you’d slept in his bed. Comfortably and willingly curled into his chest.

“Yeah, but I kinda already have?” Ochaco choked on something, coughing before she responded.

“Wh-what do you mean? I won’t shame you for… y’know, but it’s not really like you,” she meant well, you knew that. Admittedly, it sounded bad and you could’ve added more context.

“Well, last night I fell asleep in his bed. We didn’t do anything, just watched movies. I wanted to be close to him, it was like my body couldn’t be away from his. So I put my head on his chest and he kinda recoiled. Eventually he calmed down but I’m worried he’s uncomfortable with me being touchy with him,” you bit your lip. Your anxiety, well placed or not, was making you want to hide away and never come out.

“Maybe that’s not the case. Be forward and ask him. I think you’re worrying too much,” she was right, again. You hoped a deep breath would calm your anxiety. It didn’t. As you thought of a response, a knock at your door made you jolt.

“I gotta go, I’ll text you!” Quickly opening the door, you saw a nervous Tomura, rocking on his feet.

“Y-you’re always so beautiful. How do you do that?” His face was flushed, hands in his hoodie pocket.

“I’m not,” you chuckled. “Just like you aren’t smart all the time.” Locking your door, you followed Tomura out of the dorms.

“I guess you’re right. Do you trust me enough to let me drive? It’s not too far but I’m not gonna make you walk it,” his hands were sweaty. He wanted to hold your hand so badly but he felt so gross.

“I trust you. What kinda car do you have?” As you approached the parking lot, the car he walked up to shocked you. “I-is that your car?” He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and the unlocked it. It was a black BMW, and it was the nicest car in the lot.

“Yeah, it’s… not the one I wanted. My dad got it for me,” being the gentleman he is, he opened your door for you. The inside was just as nice, slick and all black. “Well, it’s my adoptive father. I don’t wanna be seen as some rich kid.”

“You’re doing a good job, I wouldn’t have suspected it,” this was a strange development. Tomura was apparently loaded, or at least his family was. That’s why he never worked and could afford to stay inside all day. “So, what’s your family like?”

“It’s just him. He owns a company. When my parents… died, he was the only one that wanted to take me in. Everyone else was scared of me.” His bottom lip was grasped firmly between his teeth, so you dropped the subject.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you gazed out the window, checking out every place on the block. “I can’t wait.”

“Ha, it’s a surprise. We’re close, actually, so cover your eyes,” he gave you his beautiful, crooked smile, so you entertained him. Putting your hands over your eyes, you felt the car pull to a stop. The door shut and yours opened. “C’mon, you said you trusted me,” his hand grabbed yours, and you realized how big his hands were. They were thin, palms the size of your own hands. “Okay, you can open them.”

What you saw was a large room full of arcade games, a bar along the wall. Different kinds of games were scattered across the room. There were TVs and consoles, couches, and hallways to other areas. There was a few people in here, but most of them were so engrossed in their games, they didn’t notice the two of you enter.

“I’ve never seen this place before, I didn’t even know it was here,” you followed him to the bar as he ordered two drinks. “You picked a good spot.”

“Yeah, most people haven’t, it’s a hole in the wall, and it’s usually empty. that’s why i like it. I figured you would too,” he hands you a glass and taps his fingers on his own, trying not to scratch at his neck. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course! But what’s in this? It is… strong. Is this what you normally drink?” You took a sip and it burns the whole way down, the flavor is good but it’s an intense amount of alcohol.

“It’s an old fashion. I just get it stronger. It doesn’t really affect me all that much so I have to get more than most,” his fingers are tapping on the counter incessantly. Of course, when he needs to say something important he gets nervous, his throat dry and his voice shaking. “D-do you have some kind of ulterior motive? Because most people stay away from me. Usually that’s for the best. If I don’t hurt the people close to me, I end up driving them off. I guess what I’m trying to get at is, I don’t want you to just leave like-“ you interrupted him and grabbed his hand. All he could think about now was how soft your hands were. How you grabbed his hand like it was nothing, like it wasn’t a big deal. It might not have been to you, but it meant the world to him.

“You’re overthinking it. I really like being around you, I promise. I want you to be able to relax,” you knocked back the rest of your drink. “I wanna have fun with you, I promise I’m not thinking about doing anything else,” he needed the courage, so he finished his own drink and ordered two more. “What’s a game you’re not good at so I can finally kick your ass in it?”

The two of you played multiple games, leading into hours of drinking and gaming. You finally beat him in Mario Kart, and laughed.

“It’s ‘cause I’m not on top of my game, I can’t play when I’m drunk, baby,” oh shit. Tomura didn’t mean to let that slip. “F-fuck, I didn’t mean-“ you put a finger to his lips, heavy-lidded eyes staring deep into his.

“Don’t worry about it, it was cute,” you smiled a wide, drunken smile and moved closer to him on the large couch. Tomura bought you as many drinks as you wanted, but slowed down himself. Neither of you realized you’d been there for hours.

“You ready to head out?” He stood, waiting for you to answer, but you laughed and grabbed at his arm.

“Anywhere with you, anywhere,” you tried to stand but your legs failed you. Tomura rolled his eyes and picked you up, pulling your legs around his waist.

“Just hold onto me for a second, you’re drunk as fuck,” you giggled in his ear the entire way out to the car. It made his ears and face flushing red to match yours. His wasn’t because of alcohol, though. It was hard to believe someone could make him feel like this. As he placed you in the passenger seat you pulled him down to kiss him, and he allowed you a chaste peck on the lips. “I don’t wanna get second hand drunk, calm down,” he chuckled and started the drive back. You were a borderline nuisance. Taking off your seatbelt to curl up, asking him to slow down when you were stopped. Even so, he found you so incredibly cute when you were drunk. He picked you back up when he parked in the lot, and you tugged at his hair.

“Take me to your dorm Tomura, please,” his name has never sounded more beautiful than on your lips. “Please, can’t be alone right now,” you rested lazily against his neck, and he gave you a quick kiss on the head, loving your smell.

“We’re here,” he supported you while opening his door, praying Touya was gone. The dorm was empty, and quiet, which was perfect. You were gently laid in bed, and Tomura disappeared into the kitchen.

“Tomuraaa,” you were slurring your words, unable to keep your eyes open. Getting you this drunk was not a part of the original plan, but he’d still take care of you. Soon enough he came back with a plate and a glass of water.

“I’m here,” he set them down on the end table and pulled you up to sit. “You need to eat, you’re a little too drunk. This will make you feel better. It’s a panini I got for lunch today. Don’t make me hand feed you.”

“I liked it when you called me baby,” you muttered between mouthfuls, trying desperately to stay awake. “You should do it again. More.”

“You’re… you’re just drunk, just relax. I’ll get you taken care of so you can go to sleep,” he looked away from you, nervous. His hand started scratching at his neck aggressively, digging into the skin there for the first time in a while. You pushed the food aside and grabbed his hoodie sleeve.

“Tomura, c’mon, just… just fuck me, you know you wanna,” lip between your teeth, you tried to pull him closer.

“No. Not a chance. Not tonight. You’re drunk and I’m not gonna take advantage of you for… for my first experience with you. I want you to be all there when it happens. Please, baby,” he pulled your hands off of his clothes. Fear settled in his stomach. How would you respond? Would it upset you that he denied you? You probably wouldn’t even remember you said it.

“Mmmph. Fine. Do you even wanna sleep with me? I bet you’d be gentle,” shaking his head in defeat, he crawled in next to you, and pulled the covers up. His arms snaked around you and pulled you up against his chest.

“I… I do but I want it to be special. I’ve thought some terrible, gross things about fucking you. I think it should be special. I think you’re special,” sometime in the middle of his sentence, you had fallen asleep. Soft snores fell from a wide open mouth. Tomura kissed your temple, feeling more sane than he has in a long time.

[the-dead-sea-trilogy]

4, 5,and 6 for TDS trilogy? Any of them obvs :]

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

Honestly, as with most of TDS, all the little subtle things that are going on and the parallels with time, underlying motivations of characters (the people AND the pokemon involved). Whenever there are repeated words or phrases. For example in the last update, in Interlude, II - Lifeline when flash-forward Maxie calls Colress and says "Colress, I'm trying to keep this professional, I have a favor to ask you," and then in the next chapter, Icarus Maxie says "Colress, I'm--um. Trying--I have a favor to ask you." I do that a lot and I never get tired of it. Time is a flat circle etc.

Because I have so much of the trilogy plotted out and written already, I have a lot of opportunity to play like that both within the books themselves and between books in the series. For example there have been phrasing and imagery callbacks to Devil several times in Icarus already, and I added inklings of Icarus in Devil when I was editing it before I posted it. (I had started writing Icarus while I was finishing Devil - Devil was posted all at once after a few rounds of edits). There are hints of Mother Earth in Icarus. Etc etc etc. You get it.

Ophelia has kind of been on its own for a while, but it definitely influenced the way I write Colress and I'm considering how it fits in more in his characterization. I also may start releasing Ophelia at some point. It's like 80% complete and 120k words in.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

"WAIT IS YOUR USERNAME SUPPOSED TO BE META OR SOMETHING" yes. yes it is >:)

Without revealing too much, while Maxie is the main protagonist, I consider the series to be Archie's story.

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [insert fic] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

It's kind of implied in the worldbuilding but will probably never be explicitly stated, but my version of the Pokemon universe is like, superimposed over the real world. It's why I have them say things like "oh my god/gods" and "christ" etc instead of the traditional fandom "oh arceus" (which is a trope that I personally find distracting, but no shame to anyone who uses it. i've definitely seen some creative Pokemon Swears. just my preference). And why they mention real places like Hawaii as well as Alola etc. Both worlds exist at once.

The geography is weird and is not 100% hammered down in my head, nor do I think it needs to be, but as such, Hoenn is somewhere off the coast of Florida. Archie is a pirate of the Caribbean. Don't ask me why there's a volcano there then, I don't know. Unova is in New York (Castelia City either usurped NYC or is a LARGER adjacent city), Alola is near Hawaii, etc etc etc. Don't ask me where Kanto and Johto are, I don't know. The logic of my universe would set them in Japan which cANNOT be right unless it all functions like Phoenix Wright Japanifornia which at this rate, you know, it could. I know the logic of this would then also set Hoenn in Japan. But look. Archie and Maxie are Pokemon world's "Florida man" okay. I don't make the rules. They just are.

[touchingmadness]

Camp Nano Progress Update #1

The first week of Camp Nano is complete, and I'm actually really happy with my progress! I expected this month to be a little rough for me, since I'm usually pretty active in the (currently shut down for good reason) Nano forums and tend to use the energy of other writers to bolster me through the event. And yeah, I'm writing a lot less than I would be under those conditions. But I'm still writing, and I'm still enjoying what I'm writing, and that's what really matters to me.

Excerpt:

You spend the rest of the day loitering around a city that would be far more beautiful if it wasn’t smack dab in the middle of tourist season. Instead, the streets and beaches are teeming with well-off people getting away from their well-off lives and generally spoiling the atmosphere with their existence. You can’t help but feel bad for the people who live here, even if you’re sure they make a pretty penny off of these people. And so will you, it seems, when Soren nudges you with a smirk and proceeds to nick the coin purse right off of a wealthy man’s belt. It takes everything in you not to gape at him, but you do cast around your gaze discreetly. The menace is subtle and slick, good with his fingers and anything that requires him to be quiet and look innocent, but this is something entirely different than what you’re used to from him. Sure, he’ll pilfer anything left unattended for too long, but pickpocketing is a whole other game. You have no objections – these people could do with lighter pockets – but it’s not going to be good for either of you if he gets himself caught. “Watch yourself,” you sign as he shoves the pouch into his bag. He sticks his tongue out like a child, fingers flying. “Watch me yourself.”

Statistics and reflection under the cut.

Just the Numbers

I've added 6,302 words to Let the Light In in the past week, bringing the total count for the project up to 23,611 words. Most of these new words have been in Chapter 3, although a few were used to round out Chapter 2 at a healthy 7,942 words. I've written on 5 out of 8 days, with my highest wordcount day occurring on April 8th, with 2,132 words written.

Notable Scenes

Group cuddles. I cannot stress this enough. Group cuddles!!!

A thieving contest started by the savior of the universe. Hell yeah.

Lounging in the ropes on a boat. Showing off like a cat.

First kiss (angst edition). Not quite to first kiss (soft edition) yet.

Making Big Decisions

I've already stated that I'm quite happy with what I've written, and while that's true, I have had some decisions to make. There was one scene I got myself especially tripped up over. I wanted to use it to develop the dynamic between my POV character and a member of the party, but I recognized that the pretense under which I had them sit down for a conversation didn't ring true for either of them. I wrote a good chunk of it, and it's still in my draft, but I know for a fact that it's going to be scrapped. I'll replace it with something more naturalistic later.

Based on where I'm at in Chapter 3 and how much I have left to cover, this one's going to be a lengthy one. That being said, I'm standing by my decision to segment the first three chapters (which span over the first act of Dragon Quest XI) the way that I do. Narrative cohesiveness is more important to me than content balance, especially when I know that Chapter 4 is going to be an absolute baby chapter, since it only encapsulates a short story that happens in the game's interlude.

A decision I still need to make is where I'm going to start the narrative for Act II in Chapter 5. This is more about the logistics of the source material and the fact that the player character is not my POV character for this fic. Basically, at the beginning of Act II in DQXI, you have to regather your party members. If you follow the story, you regain my POV character fourth, but you can get him third if you decide to wander. I haven't decided how I'm handling this in the fic yet, because there are benefits and drawbacks to both, but I think I'm going to write it as though he's acquired third and remove/edit scenes later if I decide to go in the other direction. Final decision will likely come down to how good those scenes end up being and how well they integrate with the rest of the chapter.

Moving Forward

The rest of Chapter 3 is going to be mostly relationship development for the main pairing and the party as a whole, which I am so excited for! I have a lot of funny, goofy little ideas planned to really cement all these Fools™️ together, though the thieving contest scene and its aftermath will likely remain my favorite. It's nice to have this downtime with them before the plot and angst pick back up again. I don't anticipate finishing Chapter 3 this week, as there's some lengthier scenes I have planned, but I'm perfectly content to linger in these moments, especially since that's why I'm writing this.

I hope everyone else's writing journeys are going just as great! My inbox is open if you want to infodump or chat! 💖

[plantcrazy]

UPDATE - Lost Children - 25/11/23

I've got a few updates for you guys on progress and what not :D

Aka. Lots of reading stuff today! (Don't worry, I'll keep the walls of text small, I don't like reading them either >< )

So firstly, DISCLAIMER!

I keep forgetting to say this, but after Part 1, Ch.9 old readers (or those who've read part 3) are going to start noticing some contradictions in the story. Please hold the information you read in Part 1 as truth over Part 3, as Part 3 needs editing and as I keep working on Part 1 (and now 2), I'm changing a lot of information. This is why older chapters may no longer be accurate, in the right order, or involving characters which are no longer present.

NEXT! - Progress on Part 1

As you can see, the word count in creeping up and one chapter got murdered this week >:) Thanos snapped from existence!

SO! Ever heard of the 'Sexy Lamp Test'?

No?

Me neither ^^

So, the sexy lamp test is, "If a character can be replaced by a sexy lamp with a note attached to it, they're a poorly fleshed-out character and don't need to be in the story." And this got me thinking, well, why am I using this random Toppat here, when I've got SPOILER who could do the same job?

So I tried SPOILER in that spot instead and... I LOVE IT >:D

However, this makes a MAJOR contradiction for Ch. A Puppet on Strings and a bunch in Part 3. Which is why A Puppet on Strings has been murdered, and I need to slap that big old disclaimer on A03 with the next chapter to go up and on the front of Part 3.

Otherwise, I'm about done :D

I'm doing the usual last minute edits on Ch. 11, 12 & 14, and then my next biggest goal is to settle on where exactly to split it into Part 1 and 2.

I've been working with A Minor Set Back, placed a few hours after all the fun is over, but I'm still tossing up ideas on where would be best to cut it and just how much of the consequence should go on which side of the part divide. Part 2 is pretty much the consequence chapters, so... *shrugs* I'll figure it all out, I just like keeping you guys in the loop with stuff and I know I personally find the insight to how writers brains work quite fascinating so maybe so of you guys do to.

PROGRESS ON OTHER PART

As said before, I've started on Part 2. Mostly it's just writing down the consequences of Part 1 scenes, and then the chapters I keep flipping between the two parts while I experiment to find the best layout.

Part 2 & 3, I'm working on the pacing and deciding if I'll be keeping them as two separate parts, or merging them to be one larger one and shove the back end of Part 3 onto Part 4.

And that leaves me with what to do with the mess that is the original Lost Children upload on A03. I don't want to delete it, but my god, is it a mess to sort out. I could keep fighting to edit it, I could archive it... I should make a poll on this. I think my biggest worry about editing it is I'll have to delete and re-work so many chapters It'll make a mess of it. That might be more of my fear than anything: Losing the older vs... eh, I need to think on this. Do some more arguing with my sentimental side, lol.

For the story as a whole, I'm working on shortening it.

I think, myself as a writer, I have this problem where I keep adding and adding all these cool ideas, and the story gets to a length which would, A) take forever to write, and B) becomes unmanageable for me on my own.

I think my other fear with the length is, I'm starting my BA degree in Feb, so I'm going to be busy. Heck, I'm already busy with all the moving stuff and I haven't even started the course yet :P

I want to finish this story 100%. And I feel, with my irl stuff and other side projects (older stories I want to rewrite and new ones to start) the best way for me to accomplish that is to shorten it. And all these over cool ideas I have for, like, an in-depth story into Project Harmonious, or this neat Toppat Elite Alternative Universe origin idea and what not, could be saved for smaller side projects once I get the main story done.

I have this REALLY cool sketch of this AU idea, and I can't share it, and as much as it kills me because, it's so freaking cool, it would literal RUIN one of the story lines in Lost Children, so... _ _ :

Anyway, this is where my head is at the minute. Regardless of what I settle on, my top goal is to finish writing and upload the story.

So bare with me. I got this.

Chapter 11

Ch.11 will be, I think, tomorrow. I have one small piece to add in for foreshadowing purposes, and the cover art idea is so cool, I want it done first, lol.

Since I said today, and it's not >> I thought instead I'll share ALL the WIPs of my process in making a cover from idea to finished product.

So, that'll come out later today, and I'll keep updating it as I make progress.

Now, if you'll excuse me... I have adulting to >>

[coleoffduty]

I was initially guilty about spamming you so I'm really glad to see the asks cheered you up!! I'm trying not to abuse the functionality but the universe you created in legacies is really interesting with so many complex dynamics. Can you talk more (if you want) about

- the relationship between viserys I and rhaenyra

- how all the kids see daemon (couldn't gauge how baela felt about the custody battle but she seems unsettled by the nettles thing)

- the closest real life voice/music/face claim for lucerys (and others if possible, i know that you said daeron ~~ damon albarn)

- was rhaenyra's rebellious youth a product of her upbringing (tumltuous as drew barrymore's was) or an idolising of notorious troublemaker daemon or because of her mother's loss

- what are the worst targaryen scandals in this universe? (Assuming maegor exists)

-where laena & laenor specifically stand with everything going on (the abuse lucerys suffered from his mother seemed like something laenor wouldn't accept unless he went through the same and thinks of it as normal)

oh em gee hi—welcome back <3 i rlly do wanna preface this by saying if you have questions and interests about something: flood my inbox as much as you want! i love interacting and getting to go back and forth about my fics, especially legacies since it’s so intricate and very slowly being unraveled due to slow updates (i’ve got like 6k words written up for this current chapter and i’m not even halfway so…).

but with that being said; change my first name to yip and last name to yap because boy do i have a lot to say.

viserys and rhaenyra’s relationship.

there’s a lot to cover on her story and perspective in this universe, but one of the main ideas i tried hammering in when it came to ‘you turn me inside out’’s first chapter is her only child syndrome. she’s very lonely but still incredibly doted on. growing up, i feel viserys made certain to tell everyone how much he expects of rhaenyra solely because that’s his only child. not because of what she can do or who she is as an individual away from him. i’ve always really liked the idea of how viserys names her his heir or focuses on how rhaenyra will take on his role in the family as the next generations successor is not because he actually believes in her, but because he’s already talked it into existence. it’s why he doesn’t really prep her or genuinely take the time to spend time with her. if he says it will be, then it must because the whole world’s watching and he can’t look like an idiot if rhaenyra fails. very much more of that in the prequel and impending sequels…

daemon and his relationship with the kids.

jace understands that daemon is his stepfather, the person who his mother chose to be with after harwin and eventually got cheated on, but he ultimately holds his tongue because he understands that he is baela’s father. she’s the one allowed to be mad and angry while he takes the more adult approach. luke was away at driftmark when rhaenyra and dameon married so, he doesn’t hold a really weighted opinion on him other than he was a great paternal figure with how he gifted him his cello and treats the littles, especially with visenya and her disability. joff is just angry about how daemon was the main father figure he grew up with even if he’s laenor’s favorite and then all the things coming to light. definitely one of those ‘i used to idolize you and you let me down’ moments aemond and lucerys talk about when it comes to their family. all the littles (aegon iii, viserys ii, and visenya) just know their parents love each other still but can’t stand one another anymore. when i was editing legacies, i forgot that in the scene for chapter 5 when aemond and luke start speaking in high valryian in front of visenya, she becomes immediately curious and luke alludes to how she’ll become angry if she doesn’t know what’s being said. i added that detail because i feel like rhaenyra and daemon would argue in high valyrian so the kids don’t understand/can't keep up with what’s being said, even though they can clearly see the tension. as for baela and rhaena, it is similar but different. both are very unsettled and repulsed by their father being with nettles because maybe i’m the only one who thought it was weird but: nettles is their age, with their similar phenotypes, and is a dragon rider so most likely related to them. i'm not saying in this fic that nettles is daemon's daughter, but there are clear parallels between his children with laena and her. i also feel the twins have become women who have grown out of that similar idolization period with their father to notice his patterns of getting with a young girl, having kids with her, and when times get too tough— leaves her to then repeat the process. baela is more outward and direct with her disdain about it while rhaena internalizes it. more of that will be covered in the legacies sequels, since the rhaenicent continuation will be in rhaenyra’s pov following that whole ordeal.

face and voice claims.

for lucerys, i mostly reference kurt cobain’s style of singing and combine that with his face claim, timothée chalamet. i’ve always felt luke has a deep voice even from what the actor portrays on screen, so something that sounds very low but can pitch high if strained. so yeah, kurt ('been a son' is lucerys writing about rhaenyra but anyways). daeron’s voice claim is indeed damon albarn’s and i felt this direction was kind of funny to have. damon's accent really comes through so daeron being the only singer with a thick brit voice i felt could tie back to how he studied music in oldtown and the technique taught there is also another thing that differs him from his family. in legacies i envision daeron as the ever popular face claim lucas lynggaard tønnesen. rhaena’s face claim is taylor russell (my love) and her voice claim is Beatrice Laus (beabadoobee, my other love). cregan was written before the actor was introduced so i said his face claim was jaime flatters which i still feel fits right with legacies. dalton greyjoy is young aaron paul and i feel with his voice claim, i could get away with some gerard way. for rhaenyra and alicent’s voice claims though, i always felt like fiona apple fit rhae and mitski for alicent. again though, we’ll have more of that in the future. 

rhaenyra’s upbringing.

a lot of the ideas you listed actually all factor into why rhaenyra was pretty wild during her teenage to young adult years. she grew up in the scene, at clubs, surrounded by adults smoking and drinking and partying and being this little kid who is essentially her parents’ party trick. like ‘oh look at little rhaenyra pretending she’s doing shots’ kind of thing when she should’ve been at home in bed. it’s what she’s used to and feel like she’s born for. daemon is also another addition to it as he only encourages her, which is one of my favorite key points in the prequel. and of course, with aemma’s death, rhaenyra goes off the deep end. she’s surrounded by the same people her father is, which are yes-men who will feed into anything she wants. i’ve always liked how rhaenyra antis are like ‘she was so entitled’. it’s like yeah, any 15 year old with the world at their fingertips, surrounded by people her entire life who make her feel she can do no wrong as ’the realm’s delight’ would probably be a spoiled diva. targs have done worse.

the worst legacies universe targaryen scandals.

honestly, i’ve only barely started making a dent into world-building before the young rhaenicent period as i’m writing rhaenys/corlys’ little story so i haven’t given it much thought. i feel like though in the previous periods, since social media wasn’t around and especially with jaehaerys and alysanne’s children, not a lot of them became musicians and their dirty laundry wasn’t aired out. i have aemon written as holding an army job which i feel also allows for the family to have larger ties to political aspects of westeros in the same way some actual celebrities do. hence if maegor did do all the things we know he does also in this timeline, the targs are probably well connected enough to have it forgotten about/utilize public stunts to move on. i feel like legacies really embodies the idea of a modern take of ‘the dance’ without the aegon vs rhaenyra succession plot since even though there’s so many musicians in the family and they should be at their peak, there’s all this internal affair happening with scandal and wondering who the leak is.

laena & laenor.

oh, how i think about those two. in ‘all apologies’ i wrote about how they’re basically ghosts in the house, just shells of themselves. they still reside on driftmark and live with their parents and teach music, but are incredibly burnt out. laena is sober and constantly battling addiction after overdosing and nearly dying + other things while laenor is trying to lead a quiet life after being married to rhaenyra. i don’t know if i mentioned it in the actual fics, but with how everyone knows laenor is gay, it wasn’t on his terms. he was outed and harassed on a national level which does a lot to a person, especially one without a clear support system. so when it comes to trying to intervene with the cycle of things (lucerys’ treatment) they’re pretty much rendered powerless. they know baela and lucerys are the substitutes of what their parents wanted them to become, which also adds another level of fuckery to their dynamics. but what i want to highlight is that a lot of the direct and seen abuse is mental (the physicality comes from how the kids' bodies sort of break down after practicing for so long or being neglected in order to prioritize perfection), and the person it's normalized from would be corlys (as it happens to be with baela). so rhaenys being how she is with luke is almost seen as a lesser pain and uncharted territory since she’s laenor and laena’s safer option. she's never been that way with anyone and so they don't see it as concerning as it actually is. they especially don't say anything since what happens is behind closed doors and not for long since rhaenys teaches luke when he’s 15-19, as well as because he’s corlys’ heir. he’s fitting into the mold fine, so they see stepping in as possibly messing up lucerys’ future the way they did to their own (for now at least). 

hope i covered most of the questions without veering off too much!

[ilovedthestars]

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

I was tagged by @dendrochilums and @blessphemy !

Words and Fics On AO3

29,868 words, of which 27,560 were actually fic (excluding meta and fanart image descriptions)

12 fanworks, of which 8 were new fics, 2 were fanart, 1 was meta, and 1 was a new chapter to a previously existing fic.

All for Murderbot, except for Things in the Shadows, my Witch King fanfic (and first foray into non-murderbot fic!)

My lifetime AO3 wordcount (since spring 2022) is 55,365

My lifetime actual written wordcount of Murderbot fanfic is somewhere on the order of 250,000 (give or take some duplicate drafts that are getting counted twice in scrivener)

Top Fics by Kudos

My actual top fics by kudos are mostly from 2022

Of the ones published/updated this year, An Unexpected Quarter wins. This is the one that I originally published in 2022 and updated with a surprise second chapter in 2023, so I think the age bias for kudos is still showing

The highest fic originally published in 2023 is Operation Parsec, which is 10th on the overall list. It's also the literal first fic I posted that year, as it was written for the New Years gift exchange. Yeah, I think my kudos rankings are almost entirely based on age

Fics and Fanart on Tumblr

By my count I made 12 fanart posts in my #stars art tag! This includes Many-Colored Strings and Ghosts of the Pressy, the two fanart pieces that I posted to AO3. (Ghosts of the Pressy is technically from 2022, but I didn't share it outside of discord until 2023)

Because I didn't have a tumblr until this year, I decided to go back through my list of ao3 works and post links to them under my #stars ao3 reruns tag

I posted snips from nine unpublished Murderbot fic wips for the Trick or Treat ask game (which are all linked in this post)

And had fun with lots of other ask games, tag games, and rambling about my wips in general! More can be found in #stars fic, #stars wips and #stars ocs

Fandom Fic Events 2023

Last year's Murderbot Diaries New Years Gift exchange ( @mbd-gift-exchange ), for which I wrote Operation Parsec for Lillow and received this gorgeous artwork from @acornwizard!!

The Aspec Murderbot Diaries event, for which I created Many-Colored Strings based on a prompt about platonic soulmate AUs

The Murderbot discord's AUpril event, for which I created several snips and small artworks that were shared only on discord

And several other less formal events/collaborations on discord, like the fictional art exhibition in the future of the MBD universe (i should get around to archiving the snips i wrote for this, I don't think I ever posted them, but I did help organize the ao3 collection)

Upcoming 2024

My gift project for this year's New Years gift exchange!

At least a dozen wips I'd like to get finished, and have no idea when or which order that will happen in, but among my top priorities:

The final 3-ish chapters of Old Unit, Young Unit

Several follow-ups to Salvage or Repair, ft. Yuma and Crowbar, particularly an immediate follow-up fic and a spinoff fic featuring two new OCs with an angsty past

Various other Polaris things that I can share after I finish OU,YU, including Niri POVs, some past & future spinoffs, and OldUnit's official company file

maybe that "Murderbot has a cat" fic that I already wrote most of but have been wanting to polish up for months now?

A revisit to my semi-abandoned Three time travel fix-it where One and Two live, perhaps? I'm low on energy but SC did give me some new ideas...

This was very fun, thanks for the tag! Rules copied below, I added some new categories but the main ones seem to be Words and Fics, Top Fics by Kudos, Fandom Events, and Upcoming 2024.

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass, just keep on scrolling.

I'll tag @specialagentartemis, @every-eye-evermore, @all-all0s-eyes, and anyone else who's interested!

[maccca-chino]

Fanfiction Q&A

tagged by @thepagemistress , thank youuuuu! <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

a whopping 4 can you tell I don't write fics often!

though there actually used to be a few more short oneshots, but when I fell rather violently out of love with SPN, which they were for I just. couldn't stand to see them in there anymore (and I didn't like the writing itself anymore either) and I ended up deleting them... ^^"

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

41,198 (and the deleted fics would only have added around maybe 1000 words? 2k max but I don't even think they added up to that much)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

the only fics left are for DBH now, I have considered writing for Sandman, but tbh. there's sooooo many good writers in this fandom, anything I want to exist as fics is pretty much already there or in progress of being made and so I'm rather content to focus on art, slow at it though I may be :'D

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

er, well since there's only 4 of em:

1. no one can tell where your heart is (885, still in progress. and has been for a while I am so sorry)

2. lay bare the fire in me (328, .....the same as above. but I do have outlines for both fics, they WILL get finished dammit :'D)

3. and I don’t dance, but here I am (87, ...which is the sequel to 1 I couldn't wait to write even though the main fic isn't done yet xD)

4. freedom is a length of rope (34)

also yes, I am indeed very fond of the lower case titles

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I usually do or try to, even if it's just a short answer, because I love engaging with people over things that are important to me (and with comments I don't have to start the conversdation so to speak).

I do however have a few comments left in my inbox that I have not answered due to the crushing guilt of not having updated in so long.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

freedom is a length of rope (technically also in progress to have a more hopeful ending added, but the longer it exists, the more I want to. keep the angsty ending it has. also guess where that title is from lmao)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

and I don’t dance, but here I am though the in progress fics will likely end on the same level of everything is good and nothing hurts

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no, people have been very nice and also so infinitely patient with me! TAT

While not hostile, the weirdest I got was someone trying to convince me to let them sort of cowrite the fic with me? I respectfully declined because I did (I do TAT) have the general story outlined.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

...haven't yet, but the two fics in progres will have it. We'll find out h kind then I suppose.

No sure I'd ever be confident enough for pwp.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have not and don't know if I would? If I did I'd probably only very loosely do it, because I am not confident I could do each included world/fandom justice. That's easier with art for me than writing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge, but with barely any existing and only half of em finished I would be surprised :'D

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I.. don't think so.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

no, and tbh I'd probably be very intimidated to try.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

....ohhhhh noooooo, I hate picking favorites :'D

but I think one that's been with me since forEVER is Ace Attorney's Wrightworth (or NaruMitsu as I got to know it hehe).

In newer terms I think Dreamling will stick with me too.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

freedom is a length of rope like I said, the more I think about "fixing" what happened in chapter 1 in an additional chapter, the more I find myself leanign towards "no. this works better as an angsty oneshot"

maybe one day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

hmmm, not sure I write enough to really find em. minimalism? Shorter stories in a more minimal style I'd say.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

hilariously, I think that's also minimalism. because writing longer overarcing storylines when this is your go to becomes difficult.

Or maybe that's just "long interesting storylines that aren't super predictable or cliché"

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic.

well, I am German, so if the opportunity presented itself for a character where it works I could.

as far as writing in general in English goes. idk, I spent a lot of my time conversing and writing in English even outside the internet, and it's hard for me to judge how well lI'm doing in terms of er. written eloquence? I try my best and that's all I can do really.

For languages I don't know, I'd probably try to find someone who knows them or make really sure I've got it correct, I don't trust google translate enough :'D

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural

unless we count the NaruMitsu proposal RP I wrote with a friend in ICQ, but that was never published outside that chatroom xD

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

no one can tell where your heart is

as far behind as I am with updating it and as much as I feel like I bit off a bit more than I should've with it, it's my baby ;w;

Offering this up for anyone who feels so inclined to answer and tagging @wizardofgoodfortune , @wordsinhaled and @academicblorbo but no pressure! <3

[bereft-of-frogs]

shower thoughts/tales from tiktok time:

so there's this tiktok going around where this girl essentially says all forms of printing and binding fanfiction is illegal. (Renegade Publishing has already weighed in on this.) Which like, I think she's half right. I think there's a cohort of fanfiction readers that really need the fear of God put in them because they're acting really flippantly about the fact that fanfiction survives by existing in a legal grey area, and so yeah those people who are using commercial presses or printing and binding to distribute, or adding fanfiction works to Goodreads need to be told 'hey, this is illegal and you're putting all of this work in danger.'

but I think where she goes wrong is she takes it one step farther and whenever someone asks about personally printing, like from your own printer in your house, instead of being like 'yeah that's not what I'm referring to' she doubles down and keeps just saying, "yes, that is as illegal as the commercial press people, but I guess if you're just doing it in your house no one would know about it so whatever."

and I just...can't figure out her logic behind that. Where somehow the act of printing is somehow more illegal than the existence of fanfiction in general, in the digital space. Because the correct answer, as far as I (non-lawyer) can figure, if you're printing from a personal printer and binding it for personal reading, not distributing it, it is at most equally illegal? Like the creation of the fanfiction in the first place would be the thing that's in violation of the IP, there's nothing inherent in the act of printing that could be more illegal than its existence?

It kind of made me laugh a little at the philosophical question of it all. Because like...the only difference between a piece of fanfiction on the browser of your computer and as a printed piece is the physical existence of ink on paper. And what does this lead to? Are my notebooks where I write first drafts of scenes more illegal than the snippets I sometimes post to tumblr? What about people who print out their WIPs to do physical edits? What is it about the physicality of printed fanfiction that somehow transforms it into something more illegal in this tiktokker's eyes than when it exists as pixels and code?

anyway, some of that last paragraph is me sort of taking her words to an unfair extreme, it's just kind of funny. I think she's both saying something that a lot of people on the TikTok fan community needs to hear - stop using commercial binding services, full stop - but she's also fearmongering a bit and making people think that they're putting fanfiction in an equal amount of danger from IP crackdowns just because they've printed out the latest chapter of their favorite WIP from their HP Deskjet on A4 to read for themselves.

I also think this is a kind of funny generational divide because everyone I know that's my age who's been in fandom for a while has printed fanfiction out before for personal use and thought nothing of it. Because back when I first got into fandom, there were no smartphones, and oh my god what if your family was dragging you to your grandparents' house for the weekend and they don't have a desktop computer but alas, the fic you've been following just updated! what else are you going to do but send it to your home printer and sit there for half an hour watching it print one line of ink at a time with an ungodly screeching sound (and then weeks later you get yelled at because WHY ARE WE OUT OF BLACK INK AGAIN? DO YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE PRINTER INK IS? WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL THE PAPER???).

anyway. I really do want to get into bookbinding someday, but my problem is most of the online tutorials are for hardcovers and I really prefer paperbacks. I've found a couple tutorials for paperbacks though, so maybe someday! If anyone has any others feel free to send them along. ;-)

[yuugisbarber]

1, 12, 29, 30 for the AO3 ask meme !

💌!

How many words have you written this year?

A little over 50k! (Based on ao3 stats, it might be a little more since there is everything still in my Google docs) most of which is the royal au haha (30kish as of now?)

12. How many wips do you have in your docs?

6? maybe? not including updates on fics already up. If I include the updates to Royal Au and In Vitro, I would say 8. 1 Phoenixship story, 1 short story, 2 that are apart of a collection... But I want to focus on updating at LEASt 2-4 new chapters of my long fics before I upload anything brand new. So the final number is 4... lol

29. Favorite passage you wrote?

I have two! but I will only post one because it has quite a bit of gore and violence, so I will share my more SFW one.

I haven't actually posted it, but I figure it counts since I wrote it this year. It is when Atem will meet Kisara for the first time, where they connect through Atem's past as a dragon rider.

I can't quite put my finger on why I am proud of it... I suppose it's simplicity grounds me in the scene, and it makes Atem feel like Atem. One thing that (everyone who writes an AU tbh) I especially want to do with Royal Au is nail Atem, despite him being mystified by the very source material, and the AU be an entirely different world. I just feel like this short bit has the sort of energy I want for Atem and Dragon!Kisara in this world.

He never saw Kaiba’s dragon nearer than a league, always a glinting, distant star. Occupied with her own business outside of Seto and the war, he assumed that they could only meet through formal introduction. But here she stood, in the middle of the wood, as regal as he expected. Her nacreous armor gleamed, shifting from white to blue in the light.

≪Exalted One≫  Atem spoke, falling to one knee. There were many stories about her. The coveted white dragon, Kisara. They were of the pickier variety, only choosing a rider every few centuries or so. One of the white dragons notable traits was communication not with the tongue, but with the mind. 

A moment passed through the chill. Atem kept his eyes downcast, his head low, in reverence of two lives. The one standing before him, and the one left behind. 

≪You need not kneel before me, dragon rider≫

≪ It’s been years since I’ve been called that≫

A partner lost, a partner gained. Such was the business of a warrior prince. Now, as king-at Kaiba's side-- Atem hoped it would be different. 

≪Time never erodes that bond, Young King. He is still with you. That is how you can hear me≫

30. Biggest surprise when writing this year?

I think there were two. One (it sounds a bit strange), I have a newfound love for writing horror and creepy things in general. I realized how much I enjoy thinking of unsettling events to happen in my fics and I like working on the prose for it. I'm almost more excited to write the horror I plan for In Vitro than I am for royal au... which leads me to my second surprise.

How much I enjoy writing In Vitro, Ad Astra (Kaiba makes Atem a body fic)

Unlike royal au, I didn't start it with any ambitions.. and it was barely self indulgent. It was really one of those stories that I just... had brainworms for, and I honestly forgot it existed because I was consumed with Royal Au.

But the longer the fic was up, I started to get feedback that (pleasantly) surprised me. Stats wise, it's my "best" Yu-gi-oh fanfiction.

That surprised me because it's rather short (only 7k between 4 chapters) , and I feel that its quality is inferior to what I feel I can write at the moment.

The more I thought about it, I realized the fun I could have with it, and soon enough, I was getting brain worms about it again, and I felt a passion towards the story that I didn't feel before. What was once a one-off story that didn't mean anything to me is now a passion project that I sort of adore conceptualizing, and I will make sure I rise to the occasion and make the story what it was meant to be.

Thanks for the ask!

[outpastthemoat]

wip update

- it turns out that I will definitely need to break up the jet & jee story to save my sanity. right now I'm guessing it'll end up being 3 chapters/10kish, but who knows??

- currently adding words to the next chapter of fortunes; I decided to squeeze in a totally new chapter between two already-existing chapters because it turns out that, incredibly, I have more to say about iroh and zuko in bab sing se.

- currently adding words to the next chapter of constellations.

- currently adding words to the next chapter of migrations.

- started a jetko week fic and ended up writing 2k in thirty minutes. I don't consider myself a true shipper of any particular relationship in atla (unless it's zuko/happiness) but these jetko ficlets just seem to fall straight out of my head onto the paper fully formed ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

- adding words to my qobb fic.

all of this makes it sound like I'm writing a lot, but in reality I get less than two hours of writing time a week, broken up into ten minute sessions where my laptop is by the stove and I'm frantically multitasking while cooking spaghetti for five loudly complaining children. not recommended!!

[monstergoblin]

The Owl Pirates Chapter Four

First Chapter Tumblr Link HERE Previous Chapter Tumblr HERE Posted First On A03 Here  It’ll be updated on A03 first and might take me a bit to get to updating it here as I always seem to forget about my tumblr. <3

 Trigger Warnings Always read safe: Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Pushing down feelings, Overworking self to ignore feelings, Child Abuse (Belos is a bitch okay), Gaslighting, Self Gaslighting, Manipulation, Injuries

Chapter 4: The Chapter of Gambling Talk and Dinner

  This wasn’t fair. He had completed his chores today, even did extra work today, but did anyone care? No, he was getting put with more work. No one cared if he had planned to relax this evening. No one asked if he wanted to help. He didn’t even want to talk to the new guy. He already saw him and didn’t care for his existence.

    Matt crossed his arms as he stopped near the stairs where Luz sat.

    “Alright, where is he?” Matt scowled.

    “Hunter?” Luz perked up.

    “Yeah, I’m supposed to take over now.” Matt did not add the fact he had to put off plans to beat Gus in cards today. Or the fact Gus was absolutely going to tease him about the fact he ‘chickened out’. Even though he was put on duty. 

    “Oh Edas mean.” Luz chuckled, and somehow it didn’t sound like she meant mean to Matt. “Hey Hunter.” She jumped up looking over the railing of the stairs inwardly of the ship. “You get out of loud girl time!” She giggled.

    The blonde hair boy was sitting underneath the stairs Luz was sitting on. Like he was hiding. He hardly looked comfortable crammed between a barrel and the stairs.

    “Why is he under the stairs?” Matt scoffed.

    “He said it was cozy?” Luz shrugged. “He didn’t ask for anything else so I figured what’s the harm.”

    Hunter was just sitting watching the two talk. Like he did not wish to be part of this conversation. What, was he too good for them? Navy jerk.

    “Did you make him do any chores today?” Matt couldn’t hide the jealousy in his voice. His first day on board was awful, trying to keep up with the chaos that were the owl pirates. He eventually found a flow but why did this guy get it easy?

    “Nah, He’s had it rough.” Luz waved off. “Besides we already had a good pace without him. Why force him to do work that's not needed?”

    Because Matt picked up the slack.

    “Whatever.” Matt huffed. “What am I supposed to do? Just hang out with him?”

    “Pretty much. Don’t let him hurt anyone.” Luz leaned her face on her hands and her elbows and the railing. “Maybe talk to him. Could be fun.”

    “Fun would be gambling with Gus.” Matt remarked, regretting his words imeditally when Luzs eyes shot wide.

    “I knew you guys didn’t stop that!” She pointed accusingly. “I want back in you bitch!”

    “No you always win!” 

    “At least I don’t cheat!”

    “I don’t cheat!” Matt’s voice broke and he cleared it. “At least not anymore. Besides they let me still play and want you out. That says something.”

    “Wait, everyone still plays!” Luz gripped the railing. “Is that why Amity keeps bugging me in the evenings!” Her face had a hint of red to it. 

    Matt smirked. “Amity still plays on occasion too. Her talking to you is her own choice.” 

    “Everyone’s just against me then!” Luz threw her hands pointedly ignoring Matts  added on tease. “I’ll just go play cards with Eda then.” She stomped down the stairs, the opposite way of Edas quarters.

    “Where are you going?” Matt couldn’t help the curiosity.

    “To confront Gus!” 

    Matt would’ve been quick to go watch that drama, but he had a new responsibility. The older ex-navy boy was wedged under the stairs like a cat. If he abandoned him here it would probably be harmless, but Steve was always going on about responsibilities being important and building character.

    Stupid Steve

    “Are you going to come out?” Matt asked, raising a brow at the taller boy still sitting under the stairs. Somehow making the awkward position look somewhat comfortable- even though Matt could tell it was not.

    “No.” The boy responded by hugging himself. “This is my life now.”

    “You’re going to live under the stairs.” Matt scoffed. “Forever?”

    “Yes.”

    “Oh geeze you’re going to be a pain in the ass aren’t you?” Matt grabbed the boys arm and pulled trying to will him out of the spot. Hunter moved, but Matt could tell it wasn’t by his own strength. However, if anyone were to ask, Matt was going to claim it was his strength.

    “There we go.” Matt dusted himself off like that had been hard work. “Now, lets go watch the drama unfold.” He marched forward expecting the boy to follow. 

    He did not.

    Matt got across the deck before turning to see the boy still standing.

    “Fuck.” He stormed back and put his hand on his hips. “I watched you follow Luz all day. Now you have to follow me.” He demanded.

    Hunter towered over him, but Matt held his ground glaring up at the boy.

    “Why?” Hunter challenged.

    “Because- Because I’m in charge of you now!” Matt stomped his foot trying to be intimidating. Why was he being so annoying now? Matt had seen the boy being sulky all day. Why did he have to grow a backbone now when Matt had to watch him.

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

    Small

    Scrawny

    Rude

    Bossy

    This boy was reminding Hunter of someone. Someone who left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

    She acted similarly, but she got away with it. She always got away with it. Ordered him around but she wasn’t in charge as much as she pretended she was. She was a captain sure but not over Hunter.

    This boy was power hungry too.

    If he didn’t obey would Eda kill him?

    “Why do we have to go watch?” Hunter suddenly regretted his rash decision to mess with the boy. It was a familiar feeling he had been chasing anyway. He didn’t want the boy reporting to Eda.

    Then he would die.

    Besides, he should probably try to earn their trust.

    That would probably be best in capturing them.

    If he captured all of them, Belos would have to forgive whatever terrible thing Hunter must have done.

    Hunter still needed to come up with a plan, but trust seemed to be the first step.

    “Because I want to see.” The scrawny boy’s voice whined. “It’ll be fun, come on.” He grabbed Hunter's arm and led him towards the medbay again. Instead of going into the medbay they went into the door across the way. Which revealed stairs leading down.

    “I can’t help it if luck is on my side!” The annoying loud girls voice echoed as the boys made their way down the stairs. 

    “It was a vote, Luz. We didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. We just always get stuck with either no money, or all the chores.” A boys voice- Hunter could vaguely put the face of the darker boy who wore blue to the voice. Luz had introduced him earlier, but Hunter truthfully can’t recall his name.

    “I don’t see the harm in her joining again.” Another girls voice.

    “I mean we still play with Matt and we voted him out weeks ago.” Another girls voice.

    “You voted me out!” The scrawny boy released Hunters arm and ran the rest of the way.

    The voice continued arguing as Hunter stood on the stairway. He couldn’t see anyone from here but they were all very loud. He didn’t know why he continued down the stairs. He didn’t really have much choice when he thought about it. 

    The stairs opened up to a bigger room, with several desks and crates scattered around. The walls were blocked only leaving room to get through the main area, and to the doors. Hunter stood at the bottom of the stairs watching.

    The purple haired girl was sitting on a crate with her one leg crossed over the other. She shrugged. “I’m with Willow. It’s not that big of a deal, we can bring it up with the others later but I don’t think anyone actually cares.”

    “I care.” The scrawny boy had joined the others pulling himself up to sit on a crate as well. “I have done Luz’s chores for months before we stopped inviting her.”

    “Don’t pick back up cheating when we let her back in.” The boy wearing blue was standing, and pointed an accusing finger at the scrawny one.

    The scrawny boy scowled and mumbled something under his breath.

    “Luz just join, no one will actually stop you anyway.” A chubby girl with her hair done in braids was sitting on a crate. She smiled sweetly towards Luz, who was giggling at the antics.

    How can they all argue so openly and loudly like this. Wouldn’t they get in trouble with the captain for all? They were planning to gamble-

    No of course not this was a pirate ship.

    What were rules to pirates?

    “Oh?” It was the purple haired girl who spotted Hunter standing at the steps still. “Who's supposed to be watching him?” She looked to Luz but Luz looked to the scrawny kid.

    “I brought him with me!” Matt defended, “See watching.” He gestured to himself and then to Hunter multiple times.

    “You’re ridiculous sometimes Matty.” The boy in blue chuckled.

    Matt in turn shot him a glare. “What am I suppose to do? Luz had him sitting under the stairs!”

    “Stairs?” The blue shirt boy looked to Luz.

    She shrugged. “I didn’t put him there. I suggested he lead and he decided stairs was best.”

    Then the boy in blue turned to Hunter. “Why the stairs?” he chuckled a bit like he was making fun.

    What was wrong with the stairs?

    It was comfortable and out of the way. No one spotted or cared he was there unless someone needed something. The ones on Terras ship had little drapes to add cover as well. Under stairs was nice.

    Why did the blue boy act like he was the weird one?

    He wasn’t the pirate here.

    Hunter shrugged. “Comfy.”

    “See, he wanted to be there.” Luz gestured. “He likes stairs.”

    “Did you show him the crows nest?” The purple haired girl asked. 

    “That was the first thing I showed him!” Luz put her hand to her chest dramatically. “It’s the best place and he didn’t seem to care for it.”

    “Is he afraid of heights?” The blue boy chimed in.

    “Guys he’s right here, lets ask him.” The chubby girl smiled looking at Hunter.

    Then everyone's eyes were on him. Holding question.

    He never had everyone's eyes on him for such a stupid thing.

    It was unnerving.

    “It was cold.” He crossed his arms looking away avoiding the eyes.

    They seemed to take his response and turn back to their own conversation. Loudly bickering about Luz’s decision on not forcing Hunter to do chores today- Which truthfully Hunter did appreciate, but he wasn’t about to give her the credit for that. 

    It was odd how Hunter felt excluded as the group talked. Even if he was in this room they all knew each other so well they could talk openly like this. Hunter never friends- and even those he wanted to call friends would probably not consider him one. Hunter couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like.

    Probably not- non-pirate friends wouldn’t argue so loudly.

    Hunter took to sitting at the bottom of the stairs as the children seemed to have settled on Luz joining their game tonight and how they were going to tell someone named Emira and Edric. Why Hunter was bothering to listen to all this nonsense, was beyond him.

    The door furthest away from the stairs swung open catching Hunters attention. An older man with messy brown hair and very pale skin came out of it. He had a hunch to the way he held himself and seemed to be thinking, as he walked pass the girl with purple hair he patted her head seemingly out of habit. Before making his way up the stairs and out the room.

    No one seemed to care he walked past and continued with their conversation. 

    Hunter cared.

    He’d only seen a handful of adults on this crew. Consisting of Lillith, Eda, the doctor and Luz’s mom- Camila. 

    Hunter watched as the man disappeared out the door leading to the deck.

    “That’s Amity’s dad.” The dark skinned boy took a seat next to Hunter on the stairs. “Alador, he does repairs and upkeep on the ship.” 

    “Oh” Hunter responded unsure how to handle this boy- what was his name- taking interest in him. He had preferred it when they all were ignoring him.

    “Yeah, he used to build ships and weapons with Amitys mom- who is a bitch- long story. Emira and Edric are also his kids.” The boy continued.

    “How many adults are on this ship?” Hunter asked, taking a quick glance at the others to see they were still in their own conversation. Something about what they should and shouldn’t allow as bets.

    The boy held up his fingers counting in his head. “Eight.” he answered. “Nine kids if we’re counting you- and two owls.”

    “You’re counting the owls?” Hunter scoffed.

    “You don’t hear the end of it if you don’t include Hooty.” The boy grinned. “Owlbert would rather you forget so he can get into things, but yeah we don’t have a very impressive crew to a navy person like you huh.”

    “I never met other kids fit to do jobs at sea.” Hunter responded truthfully. “Only cabin boys.”

    “It takes a lot for anyone to be at sea.” The boy shrugged. “Sometimes people are forced to do things they don’t expect themselves to do. Life has this way of leading people down paths they didn’t think options.”

    Sounds like an excuse to break the law.     “huh.” Hunter says instead of what he thinks. He needed these people to like him, at least until he came up with a proper plan. 

    “You know you’re getting adjusted awfully fast.” The boy continued. “Everyone expected you to fight. So why didn’t you?” 

    Dark eyes met Hunters and he couldn’t help but feel they saw through him.

    It was creepy.

    “I-I just” Hunter started but wasn’t sure where he was even going with that sentence. 

    “Hmm” The boy shrugged a little and picked himself back up. “Okay it’s not a big deal.” He took a seat next to the chubby girl to tune back into whatever they were discussing now.

    Which seemed to be if Luz could take on a kraken.

    What a stupid idea.

    The conversation went through several topics. Starting with the justification of past gambling bets and somehow ending up on who has the best horror story of the sea. It wasn’t until a voice echoed from above the stairs for dinner that the conversation stopped. It seemed food was still deemed an important thing amongst pirates.

    Hunter followed the kids that resumed their conversation with a “I bet I can take a great squid.” from Luz. With the others calling her crazy and her going off and a grande tale on the event would happen. 

    The doors underneath the captain's quarters is where dinner was held. In a room crammed with far too many people for its size.. As the kids entered Eda called to leave the door open.The food was served in bowls and everyone seemed to help themselves. Hunter didn’t have a slightest idea what the brown chunky soup was but he knew he was hungry.

    “Did he earn his supper?” A girl with green hair was looking at him through a side eye but was asking the question to Luz.

    “Course he did.” Luz waved it off.

    “He didn’t do anything!” Matt chimned in behind her.

    Luz promptly ignored him and shoved a bowl into Hunters hands. “He absolutely did earn it. “ She patted him on the back before filling her own bowl.

    Hunter stood like an idiot unsure if he would be bombarded if he did take a share.

    His stomach grumbled in protest.

    “Just eat.” A boy with green hair- who looked similar to the girl- took the liberty of filling Hunters bowl for him. “Emiras just grumpy because we cooked tonight.”

    Hunter did not protest, but still wasn’t quite certain he was supposed to be eating. Luz and this boy didn’t really seem the type to have authority on this ship- but this was a pirate ship- He could be wrong.

    There was a small table that many were crammed sitting at eating their food and talking amongst themselves. Then there were others who were sitting on the ground holding their bowls partaking in the conversation at the table or in their own.

    It seemed there wasn’t any room to sit at the table.

    It also seemed Hunter would have to eat in here. As he wasn’t certain he’d get away taking his bowl to eat under the stairs.

    “Tables first come first serve.” Matt remarked behind him. “Find someplace to sit and enjoy.” He shrugged as he left to find his own place to sit near the doctor.

    Alador, Lilith and a few other adults were at the table, along with the child that had been staring at him in the captain's quarters during the meeting- if that could be called a meeting. The kids were on the floor enjoying their earlier discussion.

    So Hunter found himself a corner that wasn’t occupied. 

    Several conversations were buzzing around the room that Hunter caught bits of. Captain Eda laughed very loudly at a remark one the adult males made. Lilith was talking with the brown owl who was sitting on the table eating from his own bowl. Another owl was sitting in Eda’s hair, this one much smaller. The kids were listening to Luz weave a story- or tell a story- Hunter wasn’t sure if this one was true or another ‘ Imagine it’ scenario. 

    It was the tiny child that wasn’t talking to anyone that caught Hunters attention. 

    Mostly because Hunter seemed to have caught his. 

    As his eyes met the gaze of the child, Hunter realized more about this creatures appearance. In the dimly lit captains quarters his hood did a good job hiding the strange black scales that now shone in the lantern light of the room. The childs hair was white and messy but the hood did a good job concealing that. His teeth were sharp as he opened his mouth to ask Eda a question.

    Then the little child made his way to Hunter. He took a seat and looked up to Hunter. 

    “Hello!” He loudly said, baring his sharp teeth in a smile. “I’m King! “

    “Hunter.” 

    “Oh I know who you are.” King took a big bite of his soup and proceeded to talk with his mouth full. “Whole crew is talking about you. Is why Eda wants me to stay in her quarters.”

    “But you’re allowed to talk to me now?” 

    “She’s less scared of you after you cried all day.” King remarked with a happy hum.

    Hunter forgot about the fact everyone had witnessed that. He could feel his cheeks heat up and he wasn’t sure it was right to feel ashamed around them. It wasn’t like their opinions should matter anyway, they thought thievery was justified. 

    “Camila says you seem traumatized.” King wiggled a bit in his spot trying to adjust his level of comfort. "Were you really thrown overboard?”

    Hunter froze that familiar hard to breath emotion building inside him again.

    The same one he felt when he was being held by Terra.

    When she was threatening him, giving him a choice on how to die.

    Water seemed like the easier way to go.

    “Eda! I Broke him!” King screamed, jumping up and running back to the table.

    The waves had been so harsh.

    He thought he was dead.

    Belos wanted him dead.

    He didn’t want to think about it.

    He was okay.

    He just needed to bring in a whole crew without being suspected.

    That was easy

    He’s done far more difficult things.

    He just didn’t have room for error anymore

    He’d screwed up too much already.

    A hand on his shoulder nearly made Hunter jump out of his skin.

    “Breath with me.” It was Camila giving him a warm smile. “In” She demonstrated. “And out”

    Breathing exercises? What was that supposed to help?

    But those kind eyes were hard to refuse. So he followed along until his breathing normalized and found himself a lot less distressed.

    Okay that was actually a nice trick he’d have to use later.

    “You okay?” Camillas voice was similar to honey. Nice and sweet. Hunter didn’t like how comforting it was.

    “I’m fine.” He answered, “Not hungry anymore.” He needed to get away from this woman. She had some strange magical ability that made him uncomfortable. “I’ll wait outside.” He added as he was leaving now remembering that he was supposed to have someone assigned to watching him.

    “Do I have to follow him? I didn’t finish my food.” Matts voice whined.

    “Nah, I think he needs some space.” Camila responded.

    “He’s had space all day but okay.” Luz was the last voice he heard before Hunter found a spot he didn’t have to listen to all the noise.

    A place to think.

    How does one capture and secure sixteen pirates without any help.

5TH Chapter Tumblr Link