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shocymer · 14 days

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Incognito mode

"Your very first sweet and gentle boyfriend is surprisingly an expert when it comes to 'bed matters'"

Pairing : Yeosang x virgin! f!reader

Word counts : 4.1k

Contents & warnings : smut mdni! , office! AU, boyfriend!Yeosang, lowkey flirty Yeosang, a lot of fluff, virgin!reader, soft dom!Yeosang, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasm, fingering, oral (receiving & giving), squirting, cumshot, creampie.

a request fic from 🐈‍⬛ anonnie | masterlist | network : @newworldnet

“Ma’am,” a male voice calling for you.

You could feel his fingertips moving, started from your upper arm to the shoulder. Those gentle touches kept running on you lightly, then it immediately stop before reached the end of your collar to the bare skin of your neck.

Startled by the touch. You, who’s lolled on your revolving chair with closed eyes for a good minutes, bound to open them abruptly. You could tell who he was, the way he’s holding his soft chuckles, the way his sweet smile greeted you the second you opened your eyes and of course those familiar deep with the hint of candy like tone when he’s calling for your name. If it’s not him, you sure be mad by his action.

“Oh, I deliver the files that you requested before.” He put a file folder with dark blue colors on your desk surface without a cue.

You fell silent for a mere seconds as you contemplated on it which laying down just like that. “What files?” You wondered. Throwing your gaze at him, demanded an explanation.

He placed his hand to the back of your chair instead. While the other one nudged your innocent pen holder on purpose, which spilled its contents all over your desk. Widened your eyes at the sudden mess, you shouted in whisper while gripping a good amount of fabrics from his suit, “what are you doing?!”

He didn’t answer you, remaining unbothered. Choosing to tidy up the mess he made certainly was his best move. He leaned closer, cutting the gap between both of your face. Until you grabbed the last pen on your desk. He held your hand to prevent you from doing so.

A cheeky smile emerged on his reddish lips. While he blown a soft whisper into your right ear, “I remind you ma’am, don’t forget to check the files.”

No, you couldn’t take this anymore. What he just did literally ticklish your entire body. Meanwhile your head going to combust at any moments. Just like a bunch of butterflies swarming inside your belly mixed up with the uncontrollable panic, afraid if others catches this flirty lovers right away.

You looked around, while putting your hand to cover his mouth, slightly pushed him further. Proceeded to gave an instant glare at him right after you could feel his smirk underneath your palm. He raised both hands in reflex, backed off so easily as if none of his actions affected you a moment ago. Last but not least, he won’t forget to throw those signature smile before left you in peace inside of your cubicle.

Really, sometimes you can’t grasp his train of thoughts. It’s quite differences of the Kang Yeosang you knew few weeks ago, the first time you admired him due to his calm and gentle demeanor, and the one who just invaded your work desk right now. How he's so well spoken to others plus the way he handled problems in every heated meeting was really attractive. But in the end, he’s just a ball of sunshine inside and such a teaser outside after he confessed his feelings towards you.

That day was kinda a weird occurrence, since he caught you standing still by the office pantry entrance at that time. Your mouth gape open in awe, when a ray of sunlight which you don’t even know how stream through the window pane, hitting on his sculpture like profile. Even though he just leaned on the edge of table while casually sipping his daily intake of caffeine.

His angel like gaze shift on you. The long and well curved lashes followed every blink of his eyes in disbelieved, after the word “beautiful” came out of your mouth under your sense. Putting the paper cup of his coffee aside, he stepped forward to your direction with both hands inside his suit pants pocket. You felt intimidated as you stepped back in response. He cornered you by the wall that only few inches away before he said, “wanna have a date? But If you interested of course.” And that’s the beginning of your love life with him.

A pink sticky notes fell out from the file folders once you open it. You reached it by the side of the chair wheels. His distinctive writing style was scribbled so well by that piece of paper.

Perhaps, are you free by the weekend? If so, I want to spend a whole day with you.

- Kang Yeosang

“Oh boy, you could send me a word of text instead Yeosangie.” You mumbled while holding your laughter, thinking how cute he was planning this gig, pretended to deliver some files as alibi. You just bit the tip of your thumb nail after you realized there’s three unread notifications belong to his name, popped out on your lock screen that was neglected ever since.

You were writing an answer on its note before intended to deliver those back to Yeosang, "yup, come over to my place at 9 on Saturday ⁠♡” Shaking your head, you felt so silly by both of your action. Well, he’s a man full of surprise indeed.

⁠✧

It’s Saturday morning as the promised date. Unfortunately you got a sudden call from the office, asking to work overtime by the good weekend. Your mood was definitely messed up as you just dressed prettily for your one and only boyfriend, but ended up going to work in those smoking hot looks instead.

You swiped through your phone while walking in a rush before pressed on his contact. It rang for more than a good minute even after you reach the front office entrance gate. The time elevator’s door was open, you bumped hard to someone. Now what? After sudden work call and your gorgeous lover is nowhere to reach, what next going to ruin your day. When you looked up it’s your boyfriend Yeosang staring at you. His disheveled morning hair with some strands poking through made you exploded in laughter.

He pointed at you with a surprised look as both going through the same miserable ‘supposed to be day off’ in the office. You could see, he also dialed up your number, wanting to inform you due to this sudden event. So that’s the reason why your call never reached him.

His hoarse voice, breaking through your laughter. “I thought I was the only one.”

You wiped a little tears at the corner of your eyes, “No, me too. Sadly, I’m looking forward to our date though.”

“We can still do that after work, right?” His smile was reassuring you, while his fingers brushing through the strands of his hair that started to look a little neat.

As soon as the ‘ding’ sound filled the space, Yeosang and you headed to your superior office, wanting to get over this quickly. There’s some troubles on the office website per-say, he couldn’t update the office log plus the multiple errors occurs on the website following behind. No one can handle it in this very weekend except both of you who’s obviously forced to agree and as part of the IT division.

When it's partly afternoon nearly to the evening, everything’s finally done. The office website running smoothly, your superior stopped yapping and handsome overtime labor pay will be in your pocket soon.

Yeosang tapped the back of your hand, “let’s get some coffee before we head back.”

You nodded and followed him towards the office pantry. To be truth, it’s not that bad working overtime only the two of you. First, you didn’t need to be worried if others might found out about your relationship. You don’t like the idea of became the office latest hot topics. And the last one, there’s specifically written on the employment contracts about love involvement between the co-workers. Who knew you would date one of them, moreover it’s Kang Yeosang above from all, which is your junior a year apart.

Both of your hands holding a cup of hot tea, while you occasionally stole glances at your dearest boyfriend. He leaned on in the exact same position as that day, sipping the very same of his favorite coffee brand. That truly recollecting your bashful memories.

Sometimes, enjoyed the time together in silence became a habit when there’s only both of you alone in one place. Everything you do with him is literally the first experience. You never in a serious relationship, resulting all of it ended in short term. The feeling of uncomfy creeping under your skin everytime you get close with a man. But Yeosang is an exception, he never invaded your personal space without permission and his unpredictable nature as well is weirdly made you comfortable to be around him.

You threw the empty paper cup into the trash bin before turned to Yeosang. “I’m done yeo, let’s go.”

The second you almost reach the pantry entrance, the lights flashed on and off then it turn into a complete darkness. The electricity went out without a warning. Great! Why today is the worst day of all. Now you’re stuck in this pantry and gave up just like that. Because no matter what you did, both of you can’t get out of there. Like first of all, who’s idea to build this damn automatic sensor door for office pantry?

Yeosang pull out his phone, trying to contact any services. But after multiple attempts, it got cut off due to lost signal. It became worsen that you just twisted your ankle in order to approached him while in this blackout state.

He immediately crouched down, taking off your left high heels carefully and massaging part of your ankle a bit. Just a second left you’re literally in the verge of tears. He noticed how your breath hitched due to overwhelming feeling as the result of stress.

“Shh baby, it’s okay.. I’m here.” He pressed another side of your ankle gently despite its tough looking fingers but is the opposite by the way he care for you like such fragile little thing. “Perhaps, this side is hurting too?”

You winced by the sudden pierced of pain, “Uh huh”

He grabbed an ice pack from the fridge in swift motion before wrapped it using his handkerchief. It feels a little bit better once those ice bundle placed on your swollen ankle. You couldn’t see him that well, but you can feel his delicate touches all over the lower part of your leg. Plus the way his fluffy hair fell loose following his head direction just distracted you from the pain. Your hand managed to reach a few strands of it, sometimes caressing and twirling them a little bit. And somehow it’s effectively calmed you down.

Fortunately, the blackout didn’t take too long. All of the lights came on in instant. He looked up at you only to make sure if you’re okay. “Let’s get out of here, before another blackout happen.”

He peeled his suit, then putting it on you to cover your thin beige blouse. His face was awfully too close while doing it. Your heartbeats rate can’t be compromised once his soft cheek slightly rubbed against your earlobe. Surprised, you kissed him on the cheek by accident the moment your face turned to him.

By far this was the most skinships you ever did with yeosang, since you didn’t comfortable yet to do anything related to it. The way your heart skip a beat, waiting for how he’ll reacted. But there’s a slightest irritation surfaced after seeing how normal his expression was as if nothings happen.

“Yeo..” You pulled the hem of his shirt.

He looked at you by his lashes, who’s still busy taking care of you. “Hmm? What’s wrong baby?”

“Uhm, you know..” You’re fidgeting, “is your offer still valid? Like.. spending the whole day with me thingy.”

“It still. Come on, let me carry you.” He crouched, offering his broad toned back for you.

You were unsure about the idea of carrying you all the way home. “What if people looking at us?”

“I don’t care, just hopped on me. You need to get rest soon.” His palm patted on his back as a sign for you to hurry.

⁠✧

You just changed into the most comfy clothes you have. Drinking your favorite warm chocolate milk while leaning over the headboard on your bed. On the other hand, Yeosang just finished prepping your sprained ankle by putting a small tower of pillows under. Also, an ice pack sitting nicely on it.

“If you need anything just call me, I’m right on your couch outside.”

Your fingers intertwined with his only a second before he turned his back, “don’t leave, stay here.” You plead.

“Are you.. sure?” Uncertain by your request, he was afraid if you might be uncomfortable.

The heat came up to your cheek, hardened the grip on his fingers. “Yeah, I mean it.”

He plopped down next to you. Kissing the top of your head just to ease your nervous state. You could find his eyes staring down at you full of affection. “Are you good baby?” His half whisper voice hold you in choke. A hint of rasp of his deep voice just tickled all over your sense.

Your vision blurred, only focused on his pair of reddish lips. Bead of sweats dripping by your forehead, you never felt this way before. The urge to be swallowed by him overflowing uncontrollably.

He closed the gap between you two, eyes alternately up and down from your bright eyes to those luscious looking lips of yours. His warm breath hitting on you, closer and closer after each seconds passed by. He cupped your right cheek after putting your hair behind, “can I kiss you?”

Shit. Squirming your legs after felt something under. Panties clinging to your folds, completely soaked. You nodded, maybe at this point you’ll obeyed every words that came out of those sexy lips. Down so bad for him, but your inexperience self don’t know how to engage first.

He devoured your lips slowly, wanting to taste every single bit of it. Placing your hands to cling behind his neck, before he wrapped your waist to pull you closer. To your surprise, kissing was never been this good before. It’s numbing on every sense of you every time he sucked the softest flesh of yours.

He parted from the kiss, flickering his soft gaze but full of desire into yours. He couldn’t hold back, just the same as you did. “Love, can I touch you more?”

No thoughts, head empty. You only need him at this very moment. “Y- yeah yeo..” He smiled, his fingertips trailed on every curves of your body with nothing left behind. The way it surfed on you, looks like searching for hidden treasure. A high pitched moan slipped by your mouth, only to be suppress by his wild kisses over and over.

Once again, the kisses parted only to peel your oversized hoodie. You wear nothing under it, made him groan on the sight. “Ah.. my beautiful lady.” He continued the kiss while his hand cupped your plump breast, sometimes twirling on your hardened nipple, made you gripping to the disheveled sheet under. Incoherent moan filled the room by the way he sucked the other one. His eyes on you all the time, wanting to see how its pleasured you.

You let out a sudden squeal when his index finger landed on your wet clothed cunt, rubbing it in circled motion. Thighs closed immediately while your hand struggling to ward off his wild finger. “Pehaps, you don’t want this darling?” His pierced gaze looking for your answer, but surely didn’t want you to say no.

This time lust was take over your mind, you definitely wanted it. Proceed to part the thighs slowly while covering half of your face, hiding your shy demeanor. Well by doing so, you just gave him permission.

“Such a good girl.” He caress the side of your cheek before pulled off those hot pants carefully without grazed your injured ankle. Showing your white laced panties on full display. Only a few light touches on your sensitive clit brought the shiver down to the spine, while his hand holding one of your thigh to keep it spread open. It’s wet wet, once he slid off your panties aside. The way your juice dripping down, made him gulping in instant.

He licked those bundle of nerves, flicking on it side to side mercilessly. Couldn’t hold back his mischievous smile, after he heard those incoherent moans out all the way of your throat. Fingers dipping in between his caramel locks, tightening its grip each second you’re almost hitting a wave of pleasure.

Hips bucking up along the gushes of honey like juices spilled out of your already glistening fold. He sat up, still busy palming it while you riding down the high. With the audacity licking it clean right in front of you.

Skin flushed red like the tinge of ripe peaches, chest rising up and down catching for some air, you looked him with half lidded eye. There’s a hint of satisfaction drawn on his face. Then just biting his lower lips probably thinking his next move.

To his surprise, you changed position into all four. Ignoring the pain on your lower leg, only to crawl towards his direction. “Babe!? what are you doing?” He held your chin up, preventing your delicate fingers that was unbuckling his belt. “I- just want to make you feel good too.” Averting his eyes, you don’t know how deep shade of red colored on your chubby cheek right now.

He sighed, “there’s another time for that. But today, just let me make you feel good. Okay?”

You felt guilty, it didn’t fair that only you who’s enjoyed this. You’re silence for a moment, battling in your own thoughts. Afraid if he’ll judge how passive you were in bed. Yeosang could sense the way your over thinking self kicked in.

“Love.. look.. look at me. Just show me what you got. Mkay?” He said, didn’t want to kill the mood for both of you.

Your face lit up. Continued to unbuttoned his pants suit then pulled the zipper down before letting his cock sprung free. You’re gasping in awe, like it’s your first time seeing a man’s dick up close. The tip is a little wet and whole of its part swollen, looks like it’s angry to you. You wrapped both of your hands to it, stroking it in clumsy way from the base to the tip. Mimicking how it’s done on a porn movie you had watched a week ago. His cock is getting harder in each stroke, made you curious how it feels like when you put it inside of your mouth. You braved yourself licked the tip of it, then followed Yeosang reaction that just shuddered by the feels.

Until you sucked it fully inside of your mouth and started bobbing your head up and down, trying to pump his hard member so well. For once and twice it felt right, but at the third one he hissed as you’re front teeth slightly brushed those thin skin.

He pulled it out and replacing it with his two fingers into your mouth. “Imagined it’s mine.” He said while moving his thick fingers in and out, parting your lips open. Right before your teeth almost brushed it, he gripped your chin, just stopping you from doing so. “Nu uh, no teeth allowed.” Then continued pumping his fingers for a good few times.

“Enough for the lesson, now tongue out.” He ordered you after removing them out.

You obediently did what was he said. Tongue wrapping on his throbbing cock which is slowly entered your mouth space. You’re sucking it just like sucked on his two digits before. Tongue all over his shaft while bobbing your head. His right hand guided you gently by grabbing your ponytail. The tears dwelled at the corner of your eyes as its tip hitting the back of your throat. Your moan muffled by his lengthy massive cock for solid five minutes, then he pulled out shooting all of its load on your chest.

You’re coughing that finally you had a chance to fill the air into your lungs. He’s worried that he might did it too hard. But you smiled instead, so glad that you could satisfy him. You thought it was all done but his cock stayed hard due to looking at how such hot mess you are right now.

Lips swollen covered with your drool, the tears traced on your cheek plus how his cum covered all over your chest. He gave a quick peck, but the taste of him and you mixed still linger on both of your lips.

He pushed you down onto your bed, “now it’s my turn.” Stroking his throbbing hard cock for a few times, he lined it to your sopping cunt. It hurts, even after all those foreplay beforehand. He leaned over to you, placing kisses down to your neck, hoping it’ll ease the pain.

“Yeo..” You mewl, just gripping on his tough bicep.

“Hm? take a deep breath and relax a little” He kisses your forehead while caressing on top of your head to calm you down.

“I.. knew.. but I’m afraid.” You could feel he entered you little by little.

He looked into your eyes, “Then, you wanted to stop?”

“Ahn- no.. I- I want you yeo.” You jolted as half of his length is already inside.

The looks on his eyes were pure concern, he literally stopped pushing. But your tight pussy keep swallowing him, wanting for some more. “Are you sure? We can do this another time.”

Shaking your head, you didn’t have a single thoughts to answer him back. Just want to make sure, he read through your expression before pushing it all the way. You flinched as few drops of tears rolling down. It’s full inside.

He stayed still for a good minutes and kissing you lips softly. The way he started to pump you in the slow pace, melting you down. The pain is slowly subsided as you try to match his motion. Both of your bodies collided full of passion. Every touches and kisses done with affection, just sending you to the cloud nine. Your head gone lightly as feather. You don’t even know what was out of your mouth, either it’s his name or some sort of gibberish due it’s pleasurable sensation.

Your moans and his groans take turns filled your dear bedroom. He thrusted his dick faster as he almost reach the climax. The way it’s pulsing inside, spilling its warm cum made you wailing. Your body is twitching due to it filled you belly so well. To the point it’s spilled over you pussy like a light flow of open tap water for a mere seconds.

Still catching on your breath, he whispered something to dare you. “I’ll show you what’s real good, love.”

He placed his three digits inside. Pumped you in such frantically pace that leaking his thick milk out of you on every thrust he make. While his other hand pushed your lower belly. “Yeo.. yeosang.. st- stop!” You tried to move his hand away but it didn’t bother him at all. He continued his work, ignoring all your desperate mewl.

It felt like a tight knot loosen up at once, you’re squirting hard. Bursting out your sweet juices mixed with his cum, wetting on your boyfriend’s half buttoned white shirt and some part of your bed covers. It won’t stop as Yeosang keep flicking on your clit, till your body spasm for a whole minute because of endless stimulation going on.

You’re panting hard that you just dumb fucked by him. Covering your face, you really hate on every possible look you showed right now. “Ahh, It’s embarrassing”

“What part of it is embarrassing?” He asked playfully that just lay down beside of you.

“Isn’t it.. disgusting? I peed over you” You rolled over, facing away from him.

He furrowed his eyebrow, while pulling you back to him. “Honestly it’s hot, love.” He remarked.

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, i-” Before you could finished your words, he silence you with a quick kiss.

“Listen, you’re incredibly hot in whatever state you are in. Even if you’re crawling, tumbling, or in bridge position. It doesn’t matter for me.” He poked your waist.

You giggled as it tickling you. His words is calmed you down, he truly love you no matter what you do. “Oh Yeo, I don’t know if you’re.. good in bed too. I didn’t know that side of you”

His ears is getting redder, the calmed and gentle Yeosang just back. He chuckled, “Then I’ll show my other side from now on, my love.”

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drdemonprince · 8 months

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Can we really expand our window of tolerance as autistic people? I’ve been working on that kind of thing for so long and I can’t tell if I’ve made any genuine progress or if I’ve just unconsciously doubled down on masking :(

We can! But our expanded distress tolerance can't come out of nowhere. Something has to give. So for example, for me, I have way fewer sensory issues these days than I used to have, by a wide margin, and I have significantly less social anxiety and don't need much social recharge time on the level that I used to. I have more distress tolerance for sensory input and for social stressors now than I ever have before -- but this has required lifestyle changes and unmasking in order to get there. Let me break down both these improvements and how they happened:

Even as recently as a year ago, I would have terrible sensory meltdowns on a regular basis. But I haven't had a single sensory meltdown in months, maybe not even a single one for the entirety of 2023 so far? And that's because I have a) cut out caffeine, dramatically reducing my physiological stress levels, b) cut back on some workplace stress by reducing my commitments, c) stopped taking on additional projects outside of work that I didn't want to do and that only caused me stress (workshops and talks), and d) began working from home far more consistently, and made myself a wfh office that is more comfortable.

Now I operate from a really solid base of sensory comfort most days and I'm not overloaded with information or overwhelmed with obligations. This means I am far more tolerant of screaming people on the bus, the upstairs toddler slamming her feet on the floor, ambulances blaring by, noisy concerts, people bumping into me at the bar, etc.

I also am, for the first time in my life, clear-headed enough to recognize when I am starting to experience sensory distress, and can intentionally put on sunglasses or pop in ear plugs or remove myself from an upsetting situation more quickly. I had to experience what being relaxed and not overstimulated felt like, and get accustomed to living that way, in order to recognize subtler signs that I was feeling shitty and take steps to address those small annoyances before they exploded. I can handle a lot "more" in an intentional way now because I built my life to allow "less." My overall distress tolerance has still expanded -- but it's because I stopped masking and began attending to my sensory and stress regulation needs.

For the social piece, my distress tolerance has also gone up due to unmasking. If I was still motivated by passing as NT or being socially acceptable all the time, I'd be so overwhelmed being around people and worn down by every interaction. I also wouldnt be able to advocate for myself. But in the past few years I've become more and more openly weird and outspoken in my needs and true feelings, and I've recognized that the right people actually love me more when I do so and show up for me, and so being honest or even difficult to deal with is not really a threat.

This means I just don't experience much distress being honest or difficult to deal with anymore. I really can tolerate the discomfort of telling someone they're wrong or that I'm hurt without freaking out about being hurt or abandoned, because I've had a lot of good experiences with it and because I enjoy being unmasked so deeply that I just can't put my personality back in a bottle.

Masking lowers distress tolerance because it frays your nerves with stress and wears you out and bars you from ever getting to attend to and regulate your discomfort when there are signs of it happening. In order to increase your distress tolerance, you actually have to learn to better honor your discomfort early, and preventatively, so that you don't bubble over into a meltdown after days or weeks of ignoring your needs.

I think some people think distress tolerance is about becoming more tough, but it's quite the opposite. We become more resilient by getting better at recognizing and attending to our hurts.

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neonghostlights · 3 months

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Quiet Part Two: When It Started

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Detective!Reader

Series Summary: Ten years after Eddie’s death you are a detective for the Hawkins Police Department. When there are a string of deaths you can’t solve, someone comes back from the grave with answers to everything.

Warnings: nothing really beside upside down stuff, death, missing animals and overall gloom. Next part gets bloodier.

Series Masterlist

End Of September 1996•Ten Years Later

You were tired as you dragged yourself into the station.

It was early, earlier than you wanted to be. Coffee in hand as you made your way to your office that was beside the chiefs.

“Good morning!” Loretta said cheerily from her desk. She was somewhat new, starting just a few months ago after Gloria finally retired. She was a single mom in her forties, trying to make money again after her asshole of an ex left her with nothing except for four little ones to take care of.

“Morning, Loretta,” you grumbled through a breath of air as you stalked past her.

You’d be nicer later after you had a chance to drink your caffeine.

Maybe you’d bring her back a deli sandwich after lunch and pretend that they messed up your order again so you didn’t have to see her eat stale crackers as her lunch from the break room again.

“You’re starting to sound like me,” Hopper called in lieu of greeting as you passed his office to reach yours.

“Haha,” you deadpanned.

You would think the man would want to stay home after dealing with the shit he’s been through. After his sudden reemergence back in 1986 after a hospital mix up and case of mistaken identity that made the whole to m think he was dead he quickly returned back to his role as chief police of Hawkins.

Of course you and a select few knew where he really was all for all of those months and why he was in such bad shape when he returned.

Hopper shook his head as you sat down at your desk.

Hawkins decided to hire a detective after what happened in ‘86. They decided to have someone trained to handle more complex cases instead of just sending deputies on wild goose chases through town.

So that’s why you went to school and took the job once you graduated.

The only downfall was how boring it was. Hawkins population was low since the ‘earthquake’. A lot of people left, and there were quite a few deaths.

Hence, not a lot of crime except for neighbors accusing each other of stealing lawn mowers and run away animals.

“Detective,” Deputy Callahan chided as he slid a file onto your desk. “We’ve got a missing dog. Maybe if you hurry up you’ll be able to get finger prints of the doggy bowl.”

You rolled your eyes. “For the one hundredth time I’m not animal control. Go bother someone else.”

“Leave her alone,” Hopper called from his office. The damn walls were so thin.

And you didn’t really need Hopper to stand up for you, not anymore.

You yanked the file away from Callahans finger tips.

“I’ll find the damn dog,” you mumbled as he walked away with a laugh.

——

“I can’t believe they messed up your order again,” Loretta gushed as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“I know,” you sighed as you put together yet another coffee for yourself.

“Do you have any plans for this weekend?” Loretta asked.

You raised your eyebrows at her because she knew you never had plans but she was polite enough to ask anyways.

She laughed. “I’m gonna go ahead and get a head start on the kids Halloween costumes this weekend. Jake’s insisting on being a cowboy and Valerie wants to be the tooth fairy.”

“Better then when I was a witch for 7 years in a row,” you shrugged.

“At least the baby doesn’t care what I dress her in as long as it’s warm.”

You smiled and said goodbye to her as you made your back to your desk.

You saw the file sitting on your desk and a rush of excitement went through you as you pulled it off your desk and opened it up, excited to have a new case.

Just to see it was a missing cat.

You threw the file in your cabinet and slammed it hard enough for Callahan to hear in the other room.

You hated this place.

“Kid, I need you on a call. It’s the Walker’s dog,” Hopper said as he poked his head into your office.

“I am not animal control! How many damn times do I need to-“

“No. You’re gonna want to see this.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #vampire!eddie x reader #vampire!eddie munson x reader #vampire!eddie munson

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topguncortez · 2 months

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its been a couple of days since i made the tough choice to cut ties and temporarily walk away from a place that i love really really deeply.

but i’ve had some time to reflect and come to some conclusions about myself.

now excuse me while i vent out loud:

1) the phrase “once an addict, always an addict” is true. just because i don’t take pills anymore doesn’t mean i haven’t found a way to feed the craving of being addicted to something. im not 100% sure what that addiction is; maybe it’s that im a sucker for pain, maybe it’s i can’t walk away when i know i should, maybe it’s fucking caffeine (it’s 97% caffeine).

2) everyone heals and handles things differently. again, back to my past with addiction; some addicts can heal with still being able to be around the thing they are addicted to. i learned a long time ago, i am not that person. i have a hard time knowing when to walk away, but once i do… its like breathing fresh air. it hurts like a bitch sometimes but its also one of the best things for you. sometimes we get so blind with those rose colored glasses on, that we truly can’t see our own faults until we step back and reflect

3) i’m an angry person. i always have been and probably always will be. i’ve dealt with a lot of shitty things in my life. i’ve lost people who didn’t deserve to be taken away. i’ve watched some of the most vile humans get away with horrible offenses. i have been abused and assaulted. i’m angry. and there’s little i can do to shake that anger. however, i can control it. i can lock it away and deal with it in a healthy manner than just let it explode all over the place.

4). God knows what’s best for you. now, i don’t mean to get all religious on yall. i have struggled with my faith for years. I went through a period of time of questioning who God is and what his intentions are. If this great and almighty God sent his son to die to end our suffering… why are people still suffering? I still struggle with my faith, but i am relearning to put my trust in him and know that He is putting things in my life he knows I can overcome.

And finally,

5) never feel bad for doing things for yourself. i have been so well trained to put other peoples feelings above my own. for years, i have bit my tongue and told myself “i can’t say that, that’ll hurt their feelings” and let people continue to roll over me. believe it or not… i hate conflict. i hate awkward situations. i hate feeling like im being suffocated and i can’t breathe. i have become more vocal (good and bad thing) in speaking up when i have been hurt. it’s a slow learning process and sometimes it comes back to bite me in the ass cause i’m thrust into another situation i don’t know how to handle and the anxiety builds and then there’s tears and all that shit. but i have learned i should never feel bad for doing things for myself.

anyway, i know this is just a long ass vent that nobody is gonna read, but i hope maybe, just maybe this reaches someone who has been feeling the same way i have these past couple months.

i know not everyone has a great support system in real life that they can rely on when things get hard. i can honestly tell you that without some of the people in my everyday life and online life being there and helping me and offering me an ear to listen while i vent and scream at the world… i don’t think i’d still be here. but i want yall to know, if you need a place to vent and scream at the world, i am here for you. and i’ll do whatever i can to get you the help and resources if you need it. or if you just wanna get shit off your chest.

i’m here for you.

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annaliessse · 9 months

Text

I had no idea it was so difficult to write horny Leon. I have probably rewritten this three times before I was finally satisfied.

Caffeine works like magic. I did not know I had it in me to write two fanfics in a span of twenty-four hours. Earlier, I gave you toothache-inducing fluff that probably made you diabetic. Now, it's time to feel like a ho-

Anyway, enjoy. Please read warnings before proceeding.

warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex

𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝕸𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝕴 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚

Word Count: 804

It was way past midnight when the festival ended and though Leon would have wanted to take you back to the palace, once he saw your droopy eyes, he knew both of you would have to stay in a nearby inn. You have clearly tired yourself out as months’ worth of preparation finally takes a toll on your body.

Still, Leon can’t help but want to be selfish. He looks at your sleeping face, half illuminated by the light of a single candle. Your hair was messy against the sheets and even now, Leon can still see a few rose petals tangled in some strands. The skirt you wore was crumpled, your blouse untucked and even then, Leon still finds you utterly beautiful.

He wants to fuck you.

Leon debated with himself, stuck between his need and your comfort, when suddenly you stirred. Your skirt hiked up your thigh, exposing your pretty legs, and suddenly Leon was on top of you like a lion pouncing on his prey.

You can always rest tomorrow, he thinks.

You open your eyes, startled, and come face-to-face with Leon’s glowing amber eyes. He looked at you with unashamed lust as his hands begin to caress your sides, slipping underneath your blouse. His face comes closer, and you feel his soft lips against your own.

And just like that, you weren’t so sleepy anymore.

“Leon...” you whisper his name as his lips travel downward, unbuttoning your blouse before cupping your breasts.

“I love you. I love you so, so much,” he mutters the words against your neck as his other hand feels for your soaked panties. He smirks.

“I thought you were sleepy. Who would have known that it only takes a few kisses to get you wet and ready for me like this?” he inserts two fingers inside you, and you moan, riding him in an attempt to feel more of his touch.

“You tease. You knew this would happen the moment you pounced on me.”

Leon chuckles. “I did. I’m sorry. You can handle one more sleepless night, right? I just want to shower you with my love tonight.”

He strips you off your clothes and you eagerly do the same to him. In a matter of seconds, you were laid bare in front of each other. It was nothing new, nothing extraordinary, and yet Leon marvels at how you manage to make every moment feel like it was the first time.

His lips were on yours the next moment and you wrap your legs around his torso, feeling his tip poking against your entrance. You moan; he groans, and in one smooth movement, he’s inside you. You choke on your own whimpers, feeling him stretch you out and you bury your head in his neck, muffling the embarrassing sounds escaping your lips.

Leon wasn’t having any of that though and he gently tugs you by your hair until you were facing him. Your eyes were glazed over, mouth open and Leon kisses you deeply, his tongue intertwining with yours as you try to match his passion.

“Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me. I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I make you feel.”

You moan openly and Leon grins, thrusting faster when he feels you beginning to clench around his cock. You close your eyes at how good he is making you feel but he gently holds your chin, guiding you to look at his beautiful amber eyes.

“Look at me. Look at me while I pleasure you. I want you to enjoy every single moment. I want you to remember everything about what I’m doing to you because this is how much I love you.”

You barely manage to follow his orders as you feel every inch of your body heat up with pleasure. Leon feels your nails leaving scratches on his back at how hard you were gripping him. He only smiles and kisses your neck, happy that it was him who was making you feel this way.

After a few moments, Leon notices the tell-tale signs of your climax and he thrusts even harder. He feels you tightening around him as you let out a drawn-out moan immediately swallowed by his ardent kisses. He reaches his peak a few seconds after you do, and he gently lays you both on the bed, kissing your forehead as he whispers quiet ‘I love yous’ in your ear.

It doesn’t take you long to feel sleepy again and just when you’re comfortable in Leon’s arms, you feel his hands gently caressing your inner thighs.

“Leon!”

He laughs and kisses you, “Come on. Just for tonight. I still have more of my love to give. I promise I won’t bother you tomorrow. You can get all the sleep you need by then.”

#ikemen prince #ikemen ouji #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikepri #ikemen prince leon #ikepri leon #leon dompteur #ikepri fanfic

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un-holly-chaos · 2 months

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Here it is!! (Under the cut)

I'm going to post the thing Here(on this blog), full chapters as soon as they're written folks! Until someone gives me a better idea or the book is finished xD

Chapter One

There is a point, Holly thinks, when you must accept that you are bad at everything, and that this is how your life will go. Every day you will wake up, and put a new attempt into the world, and watch with bright, hopeful eyes, as it falls apart in front of you. She has gotten very good at this, and is quite accustomed to the routine.

She put her amulet in the amulet-slot on the door of the massive, square marble building, in this otherwise empty-for-miles grassy field. The door didn’t respond, and it made her irritable. She had been walking through this ridiculously empty field for hours and hours and it had been loudly raining, and her magic umbrella kept disappearing and water would come splashing all over her head and be cold while doing so. And the door was ignoring her. She tried the amulet again, and instead of opening the door, her umbrella spell flickered again, and she got rained on some more. A gem fell out of her amulet when she removed it from the door. She held in the screams.

As she was putting the gem back into the amulet, the door was manually opened by the handle on the inside, and she was let in. The person who had been so kind as to operate the mechanics of this contraption for her, was Trudy. Trudy was decent at everything, and often let Holly in when the door ignored her.

“We need to put the handle on both sides of the door.” Holly announced. The lively bar room took no notice.Trudy shuffled awkwardly for a moment, then opened her mouth. “See, I told Baringer about that, like you asked,”

“And?” Holly glared at her.

“Well, yes. And he said we can’t put a handle on the outside of the door, because the raccoon would get in, and… you know. He just really doesn’t want a repeat of that incident.”

“Well then maybe Baringer should put up a raccoon ward like I suggested and we could have a double-sided door handle!”

“Yes, but that costs, and he has other priorities, and you’re glaring at me again, and honestly argue with him yourself next time? And I’m going to go finish my game now. Bye.” And Trudy waved and walked off to a table with people and cards, and sat there. Holly wanted to keep arguing, but she was tired, so instead she found her way to the bar. This took some doing, as it was crowded, and crowds made the bar restless, so they kept wheeling it around the room. She collapsed onto a stool, and the bartender approached her. “Randy,” she said, “I need a Dry Wine.” He didn’t say anything, but looked at her sodden robes, nodded, and stepped off to grab a bottle and glass. He returned, “We only have apple left.”

“I don’t care what flavor it is, I just want to not squelch in my boots anymore.”

He poured her a glass and set it on the bar. “So… Why don’t you just try an umbrella spell?”

“Randy,” she said patiently, “if one more person questions me tonight, I will summon every raccoon in this damn meadow, and I will caffeinate them.”

“Okay.” He said, and stood there. “So, I’m not asking, but don’t you normally struggle to summon things?”

“I struggle with all spells, now shut up and leave me alone.” She wished she could get a potion that would make the people around her tactful and perceptive. She drank the Dry Wine, which wooshed quite a lot of water out of her hair and clothes, and left her bedraggled, but dry. She sighed. Footsteps suddenly separated from the crowd, and stopped behind her. She ignored them, hoping they would go away. They sat down next to her, and belonged to her boss, Danrius.

“Hi Holly,” he said

“Danrius,” she begrudged

“Where’d you uh, put the burglar?”

”I couldn’t catch him.”

”Cool, cool. What do you mean you couldn't catch him? Cause like, call me cuckoo, but I did give you this assignment, of a non-magical burglar, and I teleported you there, to where he was, with my personal office portal, and you had your amulet and everything, and you just… didn’t catch him? I’m just making sure I understand this correctly…”

”Yes, Danrius, that’s- he got away from me.” She rubbed her face.

”Okaaaaayyy, how’d he do that? You’ve got the magic cage spell right? Did you try casting that on him?”

”Yeah, but it didn’t work and he ran, and the magic bolo spell broke on contact, and the running-through-mollasses spell just made a puddle on the ground, and then I had an asthma attack and my inhaler was empty. I filled it up at the pharmacy on my way back.” She stared dejectedly at the empty glass in front of her. There was a long pause, as this information trickled into Danrius’s brain.

”You had an asthma attack?”

”From running after him, yes.”

”Right, ok. See, this is the kind of thing I’m talking about; you don’t even think to cast a flying spell on yourself to save the trouble. Or like, use a floating disc, that’s a classic move. Look Holly, as much as I like you, I’m kind of having an issue, and if you can help me with it that’d be great, but there’s a point where I can’t put more money into an employee than I get out. You have, kind of, not brought in a single bounty this month, and there’s this guy who interviewed with me yesterday, who’s pretty powerful looking. He conjured a whole rainstorm, and it’s still going from yesterday, and as the guy who directs the hiring and maintaining of the wizards here-“

”The manager.”

”Right. As the manager, it’s my job to uh, keep people who can, y’know, consistently cast spells. It’s the main point in the job description on the application.”

”Yeah, but I can do that though, I cast spells all the time!”

”For sure, for sure. But the spell, working, is kind of the point, and if I recall correctly, last two times you brought someone in, you had one tied up in physical ropes, and the other in a pair of, how’d you put it, ‘borrowed?’ Handcuffs? And I just feel like those are pretty non-magical solutions to magical problems, and I’ve been ignoring it for a while, but there’s this guy, Theobold the Thunderous, and he shoots lightning out of his fingers.”

”Are you…? Dan look, if I get the job done, does it really need to be with magic? It just feels like semantics,”

”Somatics, Holly, and no, not really, but, he shoots lightning out of his fingers, and it’s still raining. Look, I’m not happy about this either, but I can’t afford another add-on to the payroll, so as much as it pains me to say ths, I’m gonna have to let you go. We’ve had good times working together, and I know you’ve been putting a lot of hours in, so I’ll give you a few days to say goodbye. As long as you turn in your room key tomorrow, cause I told Theobold he could be moved in by the weekend. Big thanks Holly, I appreciate it!” He stood, slapped her shoulder, and flashed his teeth professionally. Then before she could collect her words, he stepped back into the crowd and was gone.

In two hours, she would collapse face down on her bed. In fifteen hours she would be standing outside the front door, in the still-drizzling rain, trying to summon raccoons. For now she just waved Randy over and asked for a potion of inebriation while she still got free bar. It looked and tasted like rice-milk, and was fully indistinguishable from the real thing, except for its attribute of getting you quite high or drunk, depending on the day. There are more specific potions out there, but they’re more expensive, so naturally, they weren’t here. She fought around the large ice cubes for several minutes before thinking to take them out and depressedly watch them melt on a napkin. She got the next one without ice.

A good while later, she gave up trying to remember the speak-with-marsupial spell, and got up. A headrush became very noticable. It didn’t go away. She compromised, and simply willed herself in the direction of the elevators. Her body successfully took her that way, rather clumsily, but she arrived. It was a magic elevator. The kind with no walls, and a levitator platform. She stepped in, and looked up trepidatiously. The long tunnel swayed above her like a willowy tree trunk that she was somehow inside of. She felt like a bug. She put her amulet in the slot on the pedestal to make it go up. Nothing happened. She realized she forgot to actually do the spell, and tried again, with magic this time. The elevator pad slowly began to rise. She breathed a sigh of relief, and contemplated whether life would be easier beneath the bark of a tree. Her conclusion was interrupted when the pad stopped at the next floor. That was the problem with this elevator, it stopped at every floor, and you had to magic it into going again, every time. She never got it to work every time. The whole place was like that, what with doors with no handles, and elevators with no automation. Wizards were wholly pretentious, she decided. She put her amulet in again, with magic. Nothing happened. She blinked slowly, praying to the god of small mammals (raccoons were still on the mind) that this place would one day go down in wonderfully warm, dry flames. A person swam into her awareness by entering the elevator, and magicking it to go up with their own amulet. She went back to picturing herself as a bug. She wasn’t sure what kind of bug lived in trees, but if she imagined it in first person instead of third person it wouldn’t matter; except she got hung up on how many legs she would have as an unspecified tree bug.

She realized she wouldn’t notice when she arrived to her floor with her eyes closed, so she set aside her insectoid ponderings, and focused. She had no memory of how many floors she’d passed, so she checked the rune stone on the side of the pedestal. It had all the floor numbers in descending order, and each one would light up as the pad stopped there. There were only three left until hers. The person there with her got off of the elevator. She amuleted the pad, with magic.

It took her all of three excruciating minutes to get the pad going again, and then only a few tries at the next stop. She finally reached her floor, and climbed off the pad with great relief. When she felt steady again after what felt like an hour, but was definitely not more than a minute or two, she counted the doors down the long hall till she got to her room, and rediscovered the wonders of old, beat-up mattresses.

Fourteen hours later, here she was, standing in the drizzle attempting to summon raccoons, an hour late on her day’s schedule. It had taken her over an hour to pack, despite only having a duffel bag and her amulet. Said amulet steamed. She wasn’t typically a vengeful person, or very wrathful actually, but ever since she had set foot into that horrible, grand, elegant, fake-marble bounty-wizard-hub, she had been having problems with it. Everything was magic powered, but nothing was automated, so she got stuck everywhere, and hated it. She fiddled with the gem, trying to adjust the rubber band so she could try the summon again. The spells were always worse when the gem got loose, she figured it was something about keeping the etching connected like a sort of circuit. Raccoons were tree animals too, so she didn’t know why they were even here, but Baringer hated them, and they kept setting everything on fire whenever they got inside, thus the one-sided door handle.

She cast the spell again. Her amulet sparked, and after a moment the grass rustled. A small face, familiar with the allure of arson, and well acquainted with the improved flavor of stolen foods, appeared. It was only one raccoon, but it would have to do. She put amulet in door-slot, and focused her magic very poignantly. It opened. She ushered the little creature in, and closed the door behind it, walking away. The grey sky hung heavy, and the pale grass scratched against her robes, but she was an unemployed woman, and couldn’t muster anything resolute to think about it.

After a few hours the sun came out, and she felt a bit better. She wondered about the success of her raccoon, and was in a faintly good mood when she arrived at the nearest inn that night. She booked a room and slept uneventfully.

The next day she entered an actual city, and wandered about a bit. At one point she found an abandoned silk scarf on the sidewalk. It was red with nice geometric designs, so she tied it onto her belt. She bought a pastry from a gluten-free bakery, and felt optimistic about it. The pastry was dry, flavorless, and over-priced, but it was so rare she had pastries she could eat, that she didn’t mind. She decided she would refill her water bottle and find a new place to work. Who knows, maybe a flier would advertise a cool new job she’d be really good at, like taking care of lizards. She found a public drinking fountain, and gratefully filled up her water bottle. As she turned to face the city street, bustling with people and new opportunities, a damp newspaper found its way to her face, and stuck. She peeled it off, debating if it could be considered horror-enough to be the last straw. She decided to read it before she decided.

Half of it was smeared by being damp, but in the middle of the page was an advertisement looking for “Fresh Wizard College Graduates, Looking For Their First Job!” She’d graduated two years ago, and had lost three jobs since then, but she was qualified, and that was what they were really asking. “This is serendipity. This one’s gonna work, I’m gonna get this job, and not fail miserably!” she lied, to no one in particular. She felt confidence rushing through her, along with the paper pulp rubbing off on her fingers. She dutifully took the paper to the bin, and bought a new copy of the same one so she could read the address listed. It was 154th Kennings Ln, just off of Side St. She began her purposeful meander, in hopes of finding a directory board. Or one of those bus stops with the maps on them.

#Holly Kingsley #chapter one #wizard #writing #please be kind #i'm insecure and this is my fun hobby to not stress about #tyyy <3 #my novel attempts

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myriadparacosm · 6 months

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Modern AU with Regulus Coroner and Detective James

Just a small one-shot because I got an intense brainworm from my post about this cliché (:

My AO3

Warning: Horror

There is an anomaly. Regulus wants to say that it is in his life because the lab’ is his and in a logical way his life but as Evan likes to remind him: he wouldn’t want to deal with everything else outside from the corpses he examines.

Regulus could perfectly work anywhere if he wants to. They both know it but it’s true that Regulus wouldn’t enjoy the management, employees and so on, despite his upbringing that made him fit, and deserving, of a position of power and not— an employee as he might appear on paper. Still, since the anomaly is always showing in his territory then this makes it Regulus’ and should leave him any right on how to deal with it.

“Can you-” The voice dries, chokes, with no politeness despite the obvious try. “Holy crap. Don’t show it to me.”

His anomaly is obnoxious and very chatty even though it’s thrown in an environment that only disturbs him. It should have gotten used to it by now; especially with how often it gravitates toward Regulus who perhaps is not near dead bodies only when he goes to the toilet.

“This?” He asks and fakes a perfect innocence with his eyebrows as he presents the skull in his hand with a lot of flesh still holding on.

He has to admit that it’s not a pretty one as whoever killed this woman tried to cover it with various things. A piece of flesh falls off with a loud splash but his eyes are still on the ever-prying anomaly who showed up with coffees and a bag of pastries.

“Oh God.”

“Potter, you better not puke in here or you will end up like this woman.”

James Potter snorts. He tries to look at him but he needs to quickly glance away because of the corpse beside Regulus. Thankfully he manages to not let anything fall as he hastily puts down the paper bag and the coffees on a small table.

“I’m not,” he assures as if his usual warm, soft-looking, skin hasn’t completely lost colour in a worrying way.

Regulus scoffs but at least he doesn’t have James’ eyes on him anymore. “Why do you come here anyway? It only just arrived.” He has his suspicions of course, but it’s better to ignore them whenever it’s about this man.

“Well it’s my case.”

It’s his usual excuse and more than often he can’t stand the sight of the victims - which isn’t a bad thing as James is perfectly capable in his job, which doesn’t require him to check on Regulus and the bodies as he would be informed the second they have any informations about any of them.

“Yes I know, you brought her here.”

“It’s a woman?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t have much yet outside that it’s obviously human work by the state of it; someone definitely tried to make her disappear which always calls for a murder. “Why are you cluttering my space?” He asks with a pointed look at what he brought.

“Coffee, you like coffee.”

“I like caffeine,” he deadpans, isolating another part of the flesh to study it further.

“And I brought something to eat,” James adds with his cheer slowly coming back. He is staring at the documents rather than where Regulus is working. “Can’t let you work with an empty stomach.”

“Does this look like a place where I would eat?”

This time their eyes meet. It’s definitely not right that Regulus enjoys the squirm building up in James’ eyes but he finds it fascinating to see when it becomes too much for him to handle. People keep saying that he should cut him some slack since they are co-workers, or partners as Potter likes to say with a wink, but Regulus only agreed to help the investigations by looking at the corpses. He never thought this included a detective who likes to walk in to watch him work and throw up here and then.

“Oh right,” he whispers, horrified, and his eyes pause on the corpse before flying back to his presents. “Shit I didn’t thi-”

“I could eat,” Regulus says, smirking when Potter’s focus sharpens on him, just to watch him squirm. “But I can’t compromise the evidence with food or liquids around like that.”

He grimaces, glancing at the paper bag and him. “You could eat here? With— like right now? With the smell?”

“Really Potter, you’re the only one bothered. Just put this in my office,” he asks because he is going to plunge his hands any minute in the poor woman and James won’t handle the sight.

“Oh sure, I will wait for you there.”

“Potter.”

James beams at him. “Yes?”

“Would you mind dropping these to Pandora for her to analyse them?” He gestures to the part he has isolated for further study in separate containers.

It’s mostly flesh, bloody, and James is clearly disgusted by the idea. He warily glances at Regulus who keeps his face perfectly professional. James always tugs at his childishness, which is always a surprise, but the teasing is so easy and satisfying.

“The…”

“There is a piece of the stomach and parts that are unusual but I still have a lot to do here.” He gestures with his dirty gloves at the table where the corpse lay. “You do want to figure out what happened to her and who did it, right?”

James can’t stop the pained grimace but he nods and takes the paper bag between his teeth, takes the two coffee in one hand and awkwardly shuffles closer to accept the samples in the other one. He tries really hard to not look at what he is transporting but his nose wrinkles. Regulus pities him, though he is sure that James can handle this simple quest, so he rewards him with an almost smile. His warm eyes are stuck on him for far longer than necessary so he clears his throat and gestures at him to go.

Whatever James tries to say is muffled by the paper bag in his mouth, which he could have easily carried any other way, but he doesn’t try again and quickly walks out with a hand as far away from him as possible.

Regulus does not let his eyes fall on James’ ass but he can easily picture it. He shakes his head with a huff and hopes that the heat on his cheeks is only a feeling and not noticeable. James always leaves him with that feeling of not being quite conscious and everything hits him with the first breath once he is away from his aura. It’s not entirely unpleasant but he is relieved to be left alone.

He is still surprised that they are still working together. James, as benevolent and tenacious as he is, should have never ended up anywhere near Regulus’ world. Before taking cases of murders, he has only worked to find the missing persons which brought a missing child found dead, who has shown many signs of abuse and rape proved by Regulus’ work and thus dug up a nasty human trafficking. That’s how they crossed paths despite how James avoids the gruesome sights of death. He is a great detective from what Regulus has heard, and seen, which has only been proved every time they solved a case together.

Though James doesn’t appear to need a reason to drop by since he has been doing it for many months now. He has become used to the sight of skeletons and bones once they are cleaned but the rest still disgusts him and yet he always drops by Regulus’ lab. Thrice he threw up and only the last two times were aimed at a garbage can; it had been the early days and most people aren’t as comfortable with this environment as Regulus is.

There is nothing to fear from dead people.

It takes him longer than he thought to finish the first round of inspection on the dead woman and he sends more things for them to be analysed before finally going back to his office. James is up and ready, greeting him like usual, and explains that he kept the coffee heated up by using the small boiler in there. He mentions that the pastries are still great but are better to be eaten right away before the chocolate cools down.

Regulus is all about finding evidence, the history and identifying the dead persons and James can be of help sometimes but not often compared to his colleagues. Except that he likes to talk about the case and give all the details to Regulus. He does have helpful insights from time to time but more than often he lets James have the chance to talk. It’s a bit of a weird process when Regulus thinks about it but he also doesn’t quite want to change it. If James needs someone listening to him to help him think, there are a lot of people around for that. Regulus seems to be his favourite choice ever since they started to work together.

James’ jaw is very much appealing, far too much, and Regulus lets him ramble as he scrutinises the stubble that must have appeared overnight. It suits him terribly and Regulus wants to touch it. James, despite his awful eyesight without glasses, catches him staring at some point and asks him, with his ever-grin, what is on his mind. Regulus lies without a problem and decides it’s time to get back to work if he has shared everything about the case.

He smiles at Regulus as if he knows something more but he doesn’t wait on it since his cheeks are flushing and goes back to work. James is probably busy because he doesn’t come back at all during the day. Regulus gets a text from him with his thoughts on the suspects and about the results the lab’ sent him earlier. He only checks it at the end of the day as he finishes in his office.

James: I bet by tomorrow we will have the murderer arrested thanks to our brilliant and pretty genius.

Regulus scowls and turns his phone screen down to try to ignore the text. It lasts for a second before he reads it again with flaming cheeks and a scowl that does nothing to fight off the smile on his face.

Regulus: I sure hope you aren’t talking about me.

James: Do you know any other handsome genius around here?

Still think you’re pretty though

This man has no shame and shouldn’t be allowed anywhere Regulus’ space anymore. He might throw the next bone or flesh at him for that comment.

Regulus: I will make a deal with the murderer to get rid of you just for that comment

“Reggie, you got a gift,” Pandora sing-songs and laughs when he startles in his seat. “I bet it’s from the same person making you blush over texts.”

“I’m not blushing,” he huffs out and clears his throat as he tries to get his face to go back to its usual blankness. “What is it?”

She chuckles at his face and sits at the other side of his desk to hand him a small box covered in shiny wrapping paper. “Smells like chocolate. James is very romantic so I’m not surprised.”

Regulus eyes the box and shakes it a bit to guess by the rattle what might be inside it. It does smell like chocolate. “It doesn’t have to be him.”

“Reggie, you’re very dashing and many people look at you but not many are brave enough to talk to you and even less flirt. It has to be James— oh maybe now you can call him by his name like he has been begging you to do for the last months. It looks pretty expensive. Just like the other gifts you have been receiving.”

“I do not buy and send gifts to myself like Barty said,” he says because her voice edges into something silly and childish. Though it’s a bit strange that James, or whoever else, is sending them at his workplace rather than his home. If it was James then he would know his address.

It’s been perhaps two months since he has been regularly receiving gifts almost every week. They are all somewhat romantic and cliche - which could fit with James’ persona but Regulus is still weirded out that he never mentioned or signed them. A large bouquet of roses, bath products and expensive lotions, a poem, a mix-tape on a CD and even a watch somehow ended up for him. They are all expensive but it doesn’t quite charm him.

The poem and the mix-tape are more personal but even then Regulus doesn’t find anything interesting - he would honestly be surprised if they are from James but no one is perfect and their tastes are probably very different. All of his friends are convinced it’s from him and Regulus is conflicted at the idea. The expensive watch is left in its box as he doesn’t really like the feeling of something constricting his wrists and the lotions just smell wrong - James has commented on the vanilla scent on his hair before so he should know better to buy what Regulus prefers.

The box is only addressed to him: Regulus Black. There is no real hint to guess from who it might be. He hesitates to check his phone where James must have answered to him already because he apparently has nothing better to do in his life than text him.

“You can’t be sure. It’s anonymous which means it could be from anyone,” he says as he tears the wrapping paper off. “And we only work together so why should I call him by his name.”

“You call me by my name and we work together. Also Evan. And Barty. Even if he doesn’t really work here, he is always in Evan’s office or under his desk.”

“I don’t want to picture what’s going on in his office and even less where Barty hides,” he huffs with a disgusted noise. “And you’re special Pandora, that’s why.”

She blinks at him before beaming, leaning forward to watch him open the unmistakable box of chocolate. “More special than James Potter?”

“Obviously,” he replies easily and returns her smile before frowning at the sweets. “Wait, these are incredibly expensive and rare to get.”

“Really?” She peeks at the chocolates. “It does smell good.”

“They are from Switzerland.” He offers her the card describing the taste of all the different chocolates like it’s the best-sellers of poetry in French. “I only ate those when we travelled to France to visit family when I was young,” he explains. “They have only one shop in Paris and just to get a box you need to call at least three months before to have a small chance of getting one. It’s been years since I saw one of these.”

“So James went to France or Switzerland to buy these for you?” Pandora asks and picks one to eat it.

“I doubt it. He hasn’t been missing work since he started to bother me. Plus they don’t ship them, I know that because Sirius moaned about it for hours last year for his birthday.”

“They are so good!” She exclaims and works her mouth around the taste, hastily licking her lips with a look at the chocolates. “Which one is your favourite? Just so I don’t eat all of them.”

He distractedly points them out and lets her have her share before retrieving his phone. This gift must have cost a lot and the whole ordeal to even get them here must have been a pain in the ass. No one in their circle has travelled to France either and Regulus isn’t even sure that he told about these chocolates to other people outside of Sirius. There are memories better left forgotten.

He doesn’t open the unread message from James yet, playing with his phone as he tries to picture how he might have heard of them. There is still no proof that it’s from him but Regulus certainly hopes so. The last time he ate these chocolates comes back to his mind.

“Oh crap.”

Pandora looks up with one cheek full and licking one of her fingers. “What?”

“My parents.”

She frowns, straightening in her seat with no trace of previous joy or amusement. “Yes?”

“They used to let people write articles about me and Sirius when we were kids,” he recalls. “To show us off as the next brilliant minds of our generation because wealthy people have nothing better to do than cause jealousy and advertise their lives to others.”

“I remember. You were so cute as a child, always pouty and with a frown. Baby Black.”

He throws a small glare. “Well, I remember one Christmas they followed us all the time outside on our ‘family walks’, which of course has never been a real thing, and we went to this chocolate shop to pick a box. They asked me and Sirius if we liked them and why.”

Pandora frowns slightly. “And you think James found this article, bought these for you?”

“I sure hope he didn’t. These articles are awful and I don’t need him to know about my family.”

“Aw, he would still love you.”

Regulus flushes. “Shut it or you won't get any more chocolate.”

She snorts and hands one to him before eating another sweet. It’s still as great as he remembers but he finds himself more focused on his phone.

James: I’m sure even the murderer will agree with me though and I always fight for the truth

Are you mad?

I’m not mocking you, I promise

I won’t call you pretty again if you don’t want me to

Once we finish this case let me buy you dinner!

Anything you want

Really

Regulus shouldn’t enjoy getting so many texts like that. James obviously texts and thinks at the same time, always needing several texts when he could have fit everything in one. His toes curl in his shoes at the idea of dinner with him. It’s not the first time he has offered to buy Regulus dinner - or breakfast or lunch or a snack - and he agreed some rare times because it always leaves him reeling for the rest of the day. James has an effect over him that should be illegal.

“What is he saying?” Pandora playfully whispers.

He purses his lips and taps his finger on the phone as he thinks of an answer. “The usual.”

“Why aren’t you going out with him? Everyone here knows that you like him despite what you say. And I’m convinced that he knows it too.”

“He went out with Lily here before.”

“And? You had exes too. Lily and him are on good terms but just friends.”

“They almost got married and planned to have a child,” Regulus scoffs. “This is not just a random ex.”

“Are you jealous?”

He purses his lips. “No.”

For a time maybe he was. Regulus has known James before they started to work together because everyone likes Lily and talks about her and her fantastic fiance-to-be. There is no clue on why they never got engaged and only came back as friends. James had never come by this area of the laboratory but Regulus has spotted him picking up or dropping Lily off over the years. They were the perfect soulmates and he only allowed himself to trail his eyes over James here and there before focusing on his own life.

Somehow, they work together now and he seems to have taken a liking to pester Regulus one way or another - always flirting or trying to make him laugh which might be the same thing after all.

“You should give him a chance, Reggie. I have a good feeling about it. You would be so cute together.”

“If his taste in music is anything to go by then one of us will die before the third date.”

Pandora grimaces. “Ouch, the mix-tape was that bad?”

“If they are from him. The gifts are expensive but generic,” he explains. “He might have bought it from a random shop really.”

Regulus doesn’t have anything against cliches but outside of the chocolates, nothing is really pleasing him. Which is a bit surprising considering all the details James tries to get from him. He will never be more relieved that Sirius and James never crossed paths when either of them dropped by. They would probably hit off right away and Regulus’ intuition is rarely wrong. Plus Sirius would give all the embarrassing details about him to James without thinking twice.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to come off too strong?” She supposes. “The chocolates are great though, right? Maybe the next ones will be better.”

“Still, it doesn’t mean it’s Potter.”

“You need more faith.”

“You had enough chocolate,” he decides and closes the box despite her distressed gasp.

“Wha- Reggie! Come on, think about it. Why would he come see you in the lab’ all the time when there is more than often a dead body next to you.”

Regulus rolls his eyes but stays quiet. She wouldn’t listen to him either way. The possibility that James comes, despite how uncomfortable he is near the corpses, to just see him is one that already tingles his brain. Still, Potter never truly asked him out on a date; all of it could be out of friendliness. He turns back to his phone.

Regulus: Thoughts on chocolates?

James: Love it

Do you want some?

He squints at his phone but he isn’t really surprised by the answer. There's still no hints whether James is the one sending all these gifts and indulging in the fantasy can be dangerous.

Pandora doesn’t insist and walks out of his office and the building with him, sharing her thoughts on what they have found so far on the corpse. It’s messy and they don’t have much yet but it’s enough to distract him. He leaves James’ text on read and decides that he deserves a night where he stops thinking about feelings and whatnot.

When he is at home, he checks his phone and feels somewhat relieved that James didn’t send another text. Regulus never feels like he is quite on his feet when it comes to him - not quite without gravity but also not down on earth with a full control of himself.

Pandora almost finished the chocolates by herself and he is happy that someone enjoys it. The bad feeling probably comes from all his memories of his childhood, triggered by the sight of this brand. It could also be Pandora’s wishful thoughts about James and him that bums him out. Regulus picks a chocolate to eat and tries to ignore it.

Sirius has sent him a picture himself, clad with his endless leather jacket for good luck, to inform him that he has the hottest date ever tonight. Regulus snorts and opts to reply with a barfing face before taking his shower. He hopes it goes well for him because his brother has been mooning over this date forever. If it’s a disaster, Regulus might just book a trip to stay away from Sirius’ sobs and lament.

Just when he has finished his shower, he is surprised by his front door ringing. Regulus hasn’t ordered anything and he doubts that Sirius decided to drop by before his date. A series of knocks follow and he sighs at the insistence.

“Who is it?” He rolls his eyes and finishes putting on his dark green clothes for the night before walking toward his front door. “Hello?”

It would be crazy and he feels silly at the thought but could it be Potter? He hadn’t answered his last text and he wouldn’t be surprised that he truly believes that Regulus is mad at him and shows up with his favourite take-outs to soothe him like it had happened for long cases. The thought truly pleases him and he catches his reflection blushing on his way to the front door.

“It’s— I’m your neighbor, Mr. Melbourg.”

Regulus frowns in surprise before recalling him. He figures something is wrong and needs help and since he already answered, it would be rude to completely ignore him now.

It’s not he knows. He doesn’t have the time to ask or procede the stun gun plunged into his neck.

Regulus wakes up to the rain on his face. He is uncomfortable but he barely has the strength to blink his eyes open. Wherever he is lying is wet, uneven and the edges dig into him.

He can’t turn his head and his neck seems to burn. He hisses in pain when more drops of water fall on him. His eyes request a long time before offering any proper sight. The rain is scarce but the hole in the roof gives them all the chance to fall down on him.

“Shit,” he hisses out when a drop dives right into his left eye.

Another grunt of pain leaves him as he stubbornly raises a hand to cover his eyes. The wind rattles around him as he realises that he is adorned in a white shirt with long sleeves with dark smudges here and there. His fingers are also coated in a liquid. When the smell of blood catches up to him, Regulus realises that he is not at his apartment anymore.

He sits up as fast as he can despite the torture but he is shot with a wave of nausea and his body slips out of his grasp. His head thrums in pain as he forces himself to get on his elbows and slowly sits up. What he previously wore has been replaced by ivory clothes. The weak lamp near the hole of the roof swings with the wind without giving much light. Regulus can barely discern his whole body and that he is at the bottom in a large hole.

Something cracks beneath him when he tries to stand up. Regulus stares down at his bare feet, wet and cold, before he manages to focus on the decomposed body almost touching him. His breathing starts to panic.

No matter where he looks, there are only corpses. Regulus is sitting in a pit of death and he makes the mistake to look around him to finally realise what just cracked is a bone under him. He hastily tries to get on his feet despite the white noise overwhelming his thoughts.

Regulus stumbles and is too disoriented to make it far, falling back into the rotten meat acting as a floor. There is a small pool of blood, only coming back up where his weight is, but it clings to his skin and clothes. His eyes try to stay afloat but there doesn’t seem to be any exit out of this pit. Everything is cold and the tears clinging to his eyes is the only thing warming him up. He swallows and stands up as best as he can, shaking off the tingling going through his body.

They kidnapped him. Whoever showed up at his house dropped him here and yet he is alive. Everything else around him is dead, with or without flesh, and the blood appears to have been left there to pool. He can’t see what’s underneath it - if the ground is bleeding out from the quantity or they are in something akin to a pool. The walls of the hole are made of dirt. Regulus’ fingers might be able to reach out of it but he doubts that he could hold on to something to drag himself up. His throat is still burning and he cautiously pats it to feel where he was stunned. It’s painful and he is still groggy despite the shot of fear and adrenaline keeping him awake.

It’s worrying that he is still alive. He hopes that his kidnapper isn’t some psychopath eager to watch people become crazy at the bottom of this hole and beg for food and water. No one else is wearing clothes beside him except for two skeletons also dressed in white fancy clothes.

They are laying next to each other with their hands put together. Compared to the other corpses, they are perfectly clean if not shiny, but what catches his attention are the jewelleries and especially one of the rings.

It’s uncomfortable to walk but he rushes to get closer, navigating through the loose bones and flesh, falling on his knees and grunting in pain until he gets closer. With a trembling hand, he grabs the limb of the skeleton in the stark bleached tuxedo to be sure that he isn’t hallucinating. The ring is with no doubt the old relic of the Black’s family. Sirius could have inherited it but refused, just like Regulus did.

“Father?” He whispers, letting go of the hand to look closer at the brooch resting on his chest; exactly what his father used to wear, just like the cufflinks.

What he assumes is his mother has her dedicated necklace and her earrings stapled into the skull. Regulus stays quiet in stupor before noticing that he had been placed beneath and between them, laying in the same way, and he has an uncomfortable feeling about the numerous other corpses under him without any clothes or distinction.

It can’t be their parents. He is sure of that. Sirius and he refused to get them buried, not after they finally escaped them, and just like for their father who died years before their mother - they cremated them and flushed down the toilet.

“They never respected us alive so why should we?” Sirius had said without any kindness as he shook their urns empty.

Regulus’ hand had rested on the flush button, waiting for him to finish. “Because we are better than them?” He had replied, not requesting for a real answer.

Their eyes had met and the last wash of the urn was thrown in the toilet. “Not tonight,” Sirius had declared and Regulus triggered the flush.

It’s not their real corpses but the jewellery can not be random. Whoever prepared them, obviously caring, knew what they were doing with every detail down. Regulus is also dressed in white just like them and it pushes him to quickly distance himself. Whose skeletons are these? They obviously dressed them up as Orion and Walburga Black and it must have cost a fortune to get their hands on these relics. He wouldn’t have known himself how to retrieve them and as their son it would have been probably easy.

He manages to reach a wall, grimacing at the bones breaking painfully under his bare feet with the blood slithering up. The lamp above him is no help so he tries his best by feeling up the dirt and rocks for any escape. It takes him three tries to find the right footing to stretch himself as much as he can and dabble with a hand the surface next to the hole. It’s rough polished stone, nothing he can grab on to, and he can’t see anything standing on any side of the edges.

Amongst the corpses, he doubts he can find anything useful. He could take the clothes off his false parents to tie them together but he doesn’t see what use it would be. The rain continues to peacefully fall through the gape of the roof.

His kidnapper obviously had to come down this hole at some point. The impostors had been cautiously placed, hands together, and Regulus has a suspicion that they clean the bones and polish them just by the look and feeling of it. They must use a ladder but it couldn’t be placed in a safe way with how uneven the floor is thanks to all the water, blood, bones and guts.

Regulus toddles his way through the hole, wishing to find any spot where his footing isn’t wobbly. There is no other sound outside from the cracks, splotches and the rain. He hopes it’s a good sign that this psychopath isn’t around.

Why is he alive? The stun gun could have been a knife and even here, he could have easily been slaughtered and thrown into the pit with the rest of them. He doesn’t hope that his kidnapper assumed that he was dead - it would have been easy to check. The clothes are starting to cling to him and he feels sick at the realisation that he has been changed unconscious. Nothing hurts thankfully but the lack of underwear doesn’t help his imagination.

A rock stands out. It barely is noticeable but Regulus is sticking to the wall to help his walk and so can see that it sticks out. He tries to move it with no result, hopefully a sign that it’s larger than it looks. It’s not far off the ground, meaning he could try to put a foot on it to gain some height, but there isn’t enough surface to have a clear handle.

He takes a deep breath, feeling his teeth rattle and the nausea climbing up to him. His fingers shake but they dig into the dirt. A large part of the wall might fall down if he disrupts it too much. There is no hint on whether it’s unstable but it feels solid to his hands. With no other exit, he tries his luck there by clearing as much space above the rock for him to hopefully use it as a hooking point. If the whole structure crashes down on him then he might have the chance to die right away.

It hurts as he becomes more desperate. Nothing down here can attack him - they are all dead already but he hurries. Anything that comes from above might be dangerous and he really doesn’t want to stick around for that. He has been at home all alone, with no plans with anyone, and Sirius is busy on a date which means that if he gets lucky then he will only contact him in the afternoon tomorrow.

Maybe it’s already been a day or two since Regulus laid down amongst the dead but the rain has started on his way home, which could mean he isn’t far from the city and it might not have been long since his kidnapper got him.

His fingers ache from the cold and the effort but has cleared enough to have a somewhat footstool. Regulus looks up at the rain with a faint wish. The relief and joy plummets with him at his first try. He falls nastily and a bone digs into his hip like a rough knife. Thankfully it hasn’t truly stabbed him but the pain is there.

His feet are wet with blood and he stands up miserably before tearing one of the sleeves of his shirt to dry one as much as he can. He can’t stay long on it, the stone is still small and slightly leaning toward the hole, so he only takes a peek to see if someone is around before heaving himself painfully out of the pit.

Nothing is grimy and wet but the odour is still clinging onto him. He heaves out in relief and quickly takes a proper look around. It’s a small church, abandoned by the look of it. There is electricity though by the look of the few lamps. A ladder is not far against a row of seats on the ground.

No sound reaches him and Regulus tries to take it as a good omen. The lack of city noise worries him though. There aren’t many churches abandoned in the city either way so it must be outside of it. He cautiously makes his way, trying to not breathe too loud.

The front doors are sealed, no matter how much he pushes or pulls. All the windows are tall but he could break one of them by throwing something and climbing with the ladder or a seat. Still, he has no idea where he is and there is a chance that the psychopath is around. His body has shaken off all the grogginess and the tingling due to the stun gun but it’s enough to subdue all the pain. One single door is on the left of the church and it’s only thanks to the lack of noise that he makes his way toward it. His bare footstep would have probably been heard by now if someone else was in here but perhaps the rain and wind covered him his track.

He waits at the other side of the door, lips pursed and breathing as silently as possible, before trying his luck. No one else is here but a large altar faces him.

“There is a creep who tried to talk to me,” Sirius had said, almost two months ago. “Some pervert asked me to sign one of our interviews from when we were 12 or 13, looking like a complete nut. I’m sure I saw him staring at me from the other side of the street after that but he ran too fast for me to beat him up. Just be careful in case he is one of these wankers still believing in the Old Black Family bullshit.”

Regulus obviously found him. Or the other way around. The altar is mostly dedicated to Sirius and him, with pictures from their childhood printed in magazines, cut and enlarged, and more recent one - Regulus going to work, eating dinner with Sirius, grocery shopping. Same goes for Sirius. There are parts of the interviews too with words high-lightened amongst the candles, Latin words carved into real bones and an obvious bowl of blood which smells to be used as paint.

There are two small notebooks brimming with pages; one dedicated to him and the other to Sirius by the placement beside their larger recent picture. He opens his and finds a summary of him with cut-outs of clothes, items, jewelries and events like the movie or the opera in it.

All the gifts he has received have obviously come from him. He exhales through his nose to not throw up.

Sirius hasn’t mentioned any gifts but then he might have scared him off enough to not even try on him. Regulus doesn’t remember any creep and he doubts he has missed it so perhaps he has changed his method with him. He has been stupid enough to believe Pandora and her theory that it’s James who tried to charm his way in. Of course he has a bloody creep after him.

He closes the notebook. There are pictures of their whole family on the altar too, even some he can’t recognize. This person is definitely one of these people who would have blindly followed their parents. Their family created an empire of fortune but they also cultivated a fanaticism around them, akin to a religion, and their parents used all of it to expand their control. Be it their habits, wishes and everything else that made people look at them like some kind of meshias. Sirius nor him actually need to work and when Regulus went to college they tried to offer everything to him with the same thought that he is some kind of idol.

This could explain why this mad man made corpses to look like Walburga and Orion. It could be their grandparents’ skeletons since their parents’ remains are none. The amount of corpses in the pit, some fresh by the amount of flesh, blood and the smell, and all the blood used up as some kind of decorations– this is nothing more than a bloody ritual that their parents would have come up with to see people hurt themselves for their pretty eyes.

He takes the rest of the room in. There is a simple bed and a table with a chair but nothing that he could use as a weapon. The light is better here and he sees his face in a stark white plate from the table.

His face has been painted on with blood. It has already dried and the feel of it comes to him with a vicious vertigo. There is a big smile engraved with the blood across his lips and cheeks. His eyes are circled and a sort of crown is drawn on his forehead.

Regulus needs to get out of here. There aren't any knives or guns, anything that could help him to get out or defend himself. Almost tempted to trash the room and the altar, he doesn’t need to because he finally finds a phone under the pile of old magazines.

His brain needs one second too long to remember any phone number. James would come right away and he is used to answering the phone in the middle of the night with his work. But the psychopath might have gone after Sirius. The altar is as decorated for him as for his brother which definitely means he wants him too. Sirius has seen the face of this mad man so he will know right away who to look for. His heart hammers and the phone rings in his shaky hand.

“Reggie, you better not cockblock me or-”

“Help me,” he sobs out with no shame.

He tries to breathe in and out to stop the cries but they are too strong.

“What?!” Sirius shouts and his voice becomes clearer. “Reggie, where are you?”

“I don’t know. This- the creep. He kidnapped me,” he gasps. “He is insane– there is-”

His brother screams and swears but the phone doesn’t catch everything with the ruckus going on behind him.

“This bloody pervert! Are you okay? Is he there?”

Regulus sniffs and leans away from the phone to try to hear something. “I don’t know. I’m– it’s a small church I think.”

“Okay, okay, Reggie keep breathing, alright?” He says but he is the one sounding more panicked and breathless. “I will come get you. I can find you. Is it a cellphone?”

“No,” he croaks out and manages to take a proper breath at the promise that he is coming for him. “I can try to get out by one of the windows.”

“You get out of there,” Sirius orders. “I will come get you, just run and I will fi-”

A shot echoes through the church. Regulus cries in pain and falls when his leg slumps once the bullet pierces through it. His ears ring and he barely finds the strength to open his eyes before his face is grabbed. He looks up at the wide smile.

“I should have known you’re smart,” the man purrs.

The phone is dead silent, swaying from its cord. He fights the grip the best he can but his leg ache and tugs at his nerves. His fingers scratch what it can but he only seems to get more pleasure out of his struggle.

“Let go of me!” Regulus barks out and gags when a hand grabs him by his throat.

“Shush, I don’t want to hurt you,” he mourns with a tender look clashing with the crazy shake of his eyes. “I’m sorry for your leg but I will take good care of you. You surprised me that’s all.”

He hauls him up but with the lack of air and the pain, Regulus can’t find his footing. His hands scramble to find some support. The grip lessens a bit but the pressure is still killing him.

“No worries, doll. I can replace your leg if we can’t save it.”

The man isn't taller or larger but he is easily in control despite the trashing Regulus tries as he is dragged out of the room. A hand digs into his hip and a nose dips into his hair to take a loud sniff. Regulus makes the mistake to use his bleeding leg to fight and the pain subdues him rather quickly. His head is starting to spin but he tries to ground himself by grinding his teeth together.

“Have you called your brother?” He asks and shuffles through the church where a bag sits on a seat. “I would have brought him here too but he was with this man— a nobody, impure and stupid.”

“What do you want?” Regulus hisses.

The pit is right beside them and Regulus fears that he is going to be thrown in there - with his wound, he won’t manage to get out. A knife isn’t far, next to the bag, and the man had slipped his gun back in his pants’ pocket. He doesn’t have the time to try to get it. His hands are pulled together within one, and he tries to kick but nothing slows him down as the psychopath ties his hands together with a plastic handcuff. It digs into his skin more than necessary and the man frowns at it.

“Does it hurt?”

“This bullet bloody hurts,” he snaps.

The man doesn’t get mad but squints at Regulus’ face. He purses his lips to not spit in his face. With how clearly unstable he is, Regulus can’t afford to make him mad. Sirius will save him without any doubt so he needs to stay alive until he gets there. His leg is bleeding and he doubts he has enough strength to run and even less outrun him.

“You shouldn’t speak like that. It’s bad manners, probably because of your brother,” he complains with a distressed look as he grabs his face. Regulus tries to shake it off. “Your brother has a big mouth, full of sins and depravity, but I will cure him. As long as he gets to eat in another way, he won’t need his mouth again. I will sew it shut until he behaves.”

Regulus’ eyes widen as the panic smothers him at his words. The man must have taken his steeliness as a good sign because he coes.

“But you’re my favourite Regulus. You have always been. I will love you now and forever. We can be a big family too. I know you’ve been missing your parents but we can bring them back. I have everything ready for it.” He tilts Regulus’ face, roughly stroking his cheeks before frowning. “You have lost your smile.”

Regulus tries to count his breathing to not completely lose it. Maybe he shouldn’t have contacted Sirius - his call doesn’t seem to worry the mad man. He has a gun. Sirius doesn’t. His brother is brazen and probably won’t think twice before coming here once he tracks the phone. He could do that blind, fingers flying over any laptop, but he will get caught and even he isn’t stupid enough to go against a gun. If he is ready to do some weird ritual to bring back their parents then he probably won’t hesitate to kill Sirius with the stupid hope to bring him back after.

Two fingers probe at him and he needs a second before realising that his lips are painted on. One of the man’s palms is cut open, bleeding, and he dips his fingers back in there before spreading it over Regulus’ face.

“Even as a child you never smiled,” he whispers, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. “I kept wondering— how would you look with one? You’re just so pretty, doll.”

It’s a kick in the gut and Regulus opts to return the favour as hard as he can. The adrenaline crams within him but he doesn’t care anymore. Breathing is not important when this psychopath has dressed him up like some kind of virgin and calls him doll. He doesn’t know where he is going with that but he immediately reaches out for the knife while the man wheezes and coughs with his hands around his throat. Regulus’ leg tugs at his nerves and he misses his chance at grabbing the knife by the sudden stumble.

He stops thinking and shouts when he is grabbed by his hair. With his thrashing and kicking, smashing with his tied hands, he manages to make the man fall along with him but he is still more clear-minded and quickly crushes Regulus to the ground.

“Why are you fighting back?! I’m giving you everything!” He screams and starts crying to Regulus’ despair. “I’m taking care of you! Didn’t you like my gifts?!”

“Let me go,” he seethes and tries to push him away. He is flipped on his back and the man sits on him, right in a spot that makes his leg bleed out worse. “Get off of me!”

“If you could look at you, you would understand,” he declares. “You must be hungry.”

Regulus’s eyes widen at the bleeding palm hovering over his mouth. He painfully purses his lips at the drops and punches him with his tangled hands, trying to hold him back. The pervert fights back, managing to stick his palm against his mouth but Regulus keeps his lips shut despite the pressure and the smell of the blood.

“We are made for each other love, you will get better if y-”

He throws his head forward as hard as he can. “Shit,” he groans out in pain as he feels the pain ricocheting through his skull.

By the moans and how the man fell, he definitely broke his nose, stumbling off Regulus to cradle his face. His leg aches too much and his stomach is ready to hurl but he pushes himself to stay focused. He notices how one hand full of blood drifts toward his gun. Putting all his strength into his good leg, he rams into the mad man as hard as he can to make him let go of it.

It’s enough to make the man tip over the edge of the pit but he grabs onto Regulus’ shirt, bringing him down too. He tries to save himself but his hands are tied with nothing to hold on and his wounded leg has finally given out.

They land on the numerous corpses, grunting in pain at the bones as the blood gushes out. The gun flew out of his hand but Regulus can’t spot where it is in his haste and his focus quickly comes back to the man rising and reaching out for him with a cry of fury.

Regulus is pushed down on his back, crying in pain at the bones digging into him, and hands fall on his throat. He wheezes at the pain as his hand scrambles for something, anything, that could get him out of this. His grip lands on something, stuck, and Regulus jerks it as hard as he can into the madman’s head.

The rain reaches out like an odd balm. This time it’s not blood like the one that fell from the psychopath when the loose rib stabbed through his throat. Some got into his eyes and ever since then he kept them closed.

The fresh water trickling down his face doesn’t soothe. Regulus considers that he is dead as he can’t feel anything outside from the crushing pressure on him. He is close to drowning and his ears are gasping around the icy liquid.

His eyes open to find the hole in the roof when he hears the regular bangs. He tries to get rid of the dead weight on him when a louder smash rattle throughout the church. His body shakes at the effort but can’t manage to get off the fresh death of him. It feels like he is floating and the blood fills him. The wound in his leg is definitely getting infected.

The familiar rumble of a motorcycle breaks him of his daze and Regulus takes a deep breath. It can only be one person.

“Sirius!” He shouts as loud as he can.

“Regulus!”

Regulus blinks up, surprised, before finally noticing James standing above him.

“James?”

“Oh God,” he blurts out, eyes wide and still on Regulus while the rest of him is completely dishevelled. “Reg’!” He doesn’t seem to realise what is in the pit because he jumps in it. Regulus watches him rush to him with no care for everything else. “Shit, are you alright?!”

His eyes burn but he tries to not cry. “I’m fine,” he croaks out.

James pushes the dead body off of him and falls to his knees to have a closer look at him. He cautiously cradles his face with his hands, eyes looking ready to cry.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Bloody hell, did he do something?”

There are more noises rising around them, one voice screams sounding awfully like Sirius, and Regulus catches some lights travelling above them. He is definitely losing consciousness.

“He shot me in the leg,” he articulates and James immediately looks at it but it’s probably drenched in blood and offers no view. “Just get me out of here please.”

“Of course, Reggie,” he stutters with a forced smile. “Just stay with me, alright? Please.” James shakes but hugs him firmly against his chest as he tries to adjust his grip on him.

It’s comforting and despite hearing him loud and clear, Regulus can’t help but let himself go. He hisses in pain and James immediately tries to move him another way. They barely move before something else falls down in the pit.

“Stop him!”

“Hey!”

Regulus jerks at Sirius’ voice and the ruckus above them. James holds Regulus up until Sirius punches him, leaving him with no support.

“Sirius!” He shouts the best he can as Sirius and James start to wrestle. “Sirius, stop! It’s not him!”

Sirius swirls to take a look at Regulus, fist tight and raised, with one of James’ hands almost in his eye. Regulus gestures at the man James pushed off of him and he finally relaxes his stance.

“Holy shit Reggie,” he gasps out, letting go of James who is relieved and quickly sits up with a hand touching his left eye, as he jumps on him to crush him in a hug.

“You’re hurting me, you moron,” he groans out but lets his head fall on his shoulder, feeling the leather jacket.

“We’re fine!” James exclaims, hastily retrieving his glasses to clean them up, to the several people around the pit. One flashlight drifts over all of them and Regulus is shocked to see his left eye red and starting to swell.

“Are you alright?” Sirius asks, close to crying by how wobbly his tone is and it starts to get to Regulus. “What did this creep do? What’s that on your face?”

“Probably his blood that he painted on me— shit Sirius,” he hisses when he starts to rub at it. “Just get me out of here before my leg gets more infected.”

“Holy shit, what the bloody hell is this?!” He shrieks when he finally takes in where they are.

James hurries to them when Sirius tries to stand up and carry Regulus, swooping in to also

take a hold of him. He tries to not blush because it’s almost a bridal carry if Sirius ever lets go of him. The three of them are drenched in blood, which Sirius has yet to realise because he will surely scream about the state of his clothes and his precious leather jacket the second his brain wears off the adrenaline. Regulus finds himself coming down from his ups and downs rather quickly, head falling against a shoulder.

“Sorry about your eye, by the way,” Sirius says, “thought you were the pervert.”

James laughs, chest rumbling against Regulus, even if his left eye stays mostly closed after each blink. “It’s fine. To be fair, I wouldn’t have asked either.”

“Get me out,” Regulus mutters, eyes closed, as all his effort is put in his snapping tone.

“You should have told him that the whole dressing up as a virgin is too late for you Reggie,” Sirius teases.

“This psychopath actually told me you’re a bad influence on me,” he snipes back.

“Careful down here! We are bringing the ladder!”

He is a bit jostled and someone walks through the pit because of the noise. With a last burst of strength, Regulus opens his eyes to realise James is carrying him by himself and is watching Sirius walk toward the psychopath with the bone sticking out of his neck. His brother does what Regulus can’t, kicking him right in the head before turning him on his back with his foot and stepping with all his weight on his dick. It clearly doesn’t satisfy him and Regulus hopes that he doesn’t see the altar dedicated to them. Sirius’ attention is quickly moved away from his vengeance to the sight of the two skeletons dressed in white.

“Alright there?” James whispers, nose brushing against Regulus’ temple as a clumsy hand tries to keep his hold and reaches out to softly wipe his cheek.

He can’t swallow down the tears at the relief and the warmth. His leg feels dead but he ignores it to let his head snuggle against James’ wide chest.

“I’m fine… How did you find me?”

“Er, well I dropped by your place. And you weren’t there but your car was still in the parking lot. Your phone, keys and everything were still in there, but I only came in after calling Pandora who told me where you hid your spare key” he hastily explains and clears his throat. “I figured something happened to you so I tried all your friends. Your brother’s, er, boyfriend? I think. He called the police to tell them that you were kidnapped and that your brother apparently had an idea of where you were.”

“I called him,” he slurs as he feels his eyes dropping. “Why… did you stop by mine?”

James snorts and cautiously tightens his grip. “Couldn’t figure out if you were really mad at me. I wanted to drop by some chocolate since you mentioned- ”

“Forget about that.” Regulus really wishes he had the strength to hug back. “Ja-”

“Reggie,” Sirius cuts, his voice odd enough for him to actually pay attention. “Is this really what I think it is?”

James turns a bit for them to have a better view of his brother staring down at the dressed up skeletons. Regulus clears his throat and feels James’ fingers brushing over his neck.

“Dressed like our parents, yes,” he manages to say. “Talked about being a family, bringing them back.”

Sirius gags, hurrying back to them. “Where is this fucking ladder?!” He screams and tries to retrieve Regulus in his arms.

“Hey careful-”

“Get us out of here!” Sirius barks over James’ complain. “Who the fuck are you anyway?”

“Shut up,” Regulus hisses before he can’t reply.

His brother is definitely going to stick to his side for weeks. One of them is definitely going to die because Regulus won’t survive his pampering and over-protectiveness.

“Sirius. Calm down for God’s sake.”

James thankfully still has a hold on Regulus because Sirius spins on his spot to look above them at the disapproving face, slightly sick though, but the sight around him clearly makes him sick.

“Remus?! What are-”

“Did you really think I would just forget you telling me that a psycho got your brother as you tried to put back your pants on?” Remus scoffs, side-stepping when two people rush to the edge with a step-ladder. “I called the cops but I figured you might do something crazy.”

“He punched me.”

“Shut up,” Sirius hisses at James.

“I saw. You’re the second one he punched,” Remus dryly comments.

“Just get me out of here please.”

#hp marauders #regulus black #marauders #sirius black #starchaser #jegulus #remus lupin #wolfstar #myriadparacosm #writing #one shot #marauders au #horror

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specialmoogakii · 2 years

Text

||I think you come from another world|| Don x reader

Chapter 1 (Chapter 2)

There's no sound in your apartment, just like when you first rented this place with Lucy. Such pleasing silence that would soon be interrupted by Lucy's partner, transforming this place into their personal fun, forgetting that you still live here. This apartment is progressively turning into hell for you, and Lucy's promise to find a job is beginning to vanish, and the promises are becoming begging. You were urging her to get a job because you were about to collapse from the amount of work you were doing behind your back.

Those beggings quickly grew into arguments, and there were days when Lucy didn't come home at all, most likely remaining with her partner to escape this confrotation every time you came home from work. Unfortunately, you care about her and still work hard to give you two a roof and avoid returning to your childhood home, which is the reason why you left in the first place, and probably Lucy too, a horrible family and life that both of you want to leave behind.

Don is another problem. He appreciates your efforts and advises you to evict Lucy and find a new responsible roommate who will pay the rent expect giving you all of the responsibilities. As much as this request sounded like heaven to you, you couldn't do that. You knew that the guilt of kicking your own friend out would eat you alive and probably remain forever.

"I'm Trying, Okay!" Lucy yells angrily and desperately, She hated this conversation so much, and you know, you're trying to save her from getting kicked by Don himself and yourself from fainting out of fatigue. Lucy's eyes look so on fire and absolutely agitated, moving her arms a lot and her leg moving up and down frantically, almost like she wanted to run and escape this argument, while your reaction to her screaming seems limited; you barely even reacted to her yells. Your eyes are trying too hard to keep them open. Your body is putting all its weight on the kitchen counter.

"Lucy, sweetheart, I understand that you didn't get a call back after the interview. But I told you that I could help you search for one." You say that with concern and a strained voice. You make a tentative to hold her hand as a way to tell her that she wasn't alone if she had problems with searching for a job. She immediately pulls away from your touch aggressively and looks away, not ready to accept your help yet again. You didn't know why. She never wanted help with it, making it more difficult for you. You understand her in many ways, but when her stubbornness appears, you never seem able to connect the dots with her.

"I'm not a baby, I'm a grown woman, y/n! I can find a job without your help! I don't need your babysitting! " Lucy hisses and gets off the bar stool, ready to run away from the conversation once again, but you won't allow it, oh hell no. Your patience is about to go down drastically. No matter how tired you are, you're not going to let her escape. With a lot of force, you run to her and grab her arm with a strong grip, forcing her to stop escaping.

"Wha-? Let me go, y/n! " Lucy says, trying to free herself from your strong grip, obviously failing, but she still doesn't give up. Her stubbornness is something hard to destroy. You start to open your mouth, forcing yourself to speak with a little bit of intimidation. This whole situation makes you sick. But this is your only option to make her stay still and try to make her brain work.

"Lucy, you fucking coward. I'm tired. So fucking tired. I'm trying to pay for both of us, but unfortunately, I'm just a human. I can't handle it anymore. " You hiss and look at Lucy with the same fire she had before. The hatred over this conversation is starting to affect you too. You're being aggressive just in the hope she'll finally understand how much caffeine you drink just to get the money she was supposed to pay.

"Why are you being stubborn over this? I'm trying to be kind and let you have your space, but I saw that it didn't change anything!! Are you a woman, Lucy?! ACT LIKE ONE" you say, trying to avoid yelling too much for not triggering Lucy. You were begging in your head if she finally snapped and wanted your help. No, unfortunately, she was able to free herself from your grip and run away. You were screaming at her to return home and to take responsibility, but no, she never returned home that night.

The guilt you feel for that reaction is eating you alive. You don't like being mean or aggressive. Maybe she was using your kindness to avoid paying the bills. Who knows anymore, you just wanted to sleep, expect finding a delusional excuse for Lucy's behaviour. When you lie on the bed, there are times when you immediately wake up in the morning, not even remembering you slept at all. It still didn't help to recover from the fatigue you felt from the work. If Tk wasn't there to support you, you probably wouldn't be working this long. But you need to pay the double bills, otherwise living on the street is your only option.

You sigh and lie on the bed, absolutely destroyed by both work and Lucy's conversation. Once again, you were alone in your little apartment. The pleasing silence finally returns, making you relax and fall asleep with every second that passes. You almost forgot about this quiet sound, and now that it returns, you could finally have a good sleep. Forgetting everything that happened and leaving it for tomorrow. You also need to work tomorrow, and pretty early too, because TK got sick. "Tomorrow is going to be great," you think sarcastically before finally falling asleep.

You woke up the next day, still feeling tired from the discussion with Lucy, and as far as you could tell, she hadn't come home yet, otherwise your whole apartment would be filled with her noises. The silence is starting to overwhelm you a little bit; you are not used to it. And oh my God, it's late! You can't miss work again, and TK isn't even there! He has been doing favors for you every time you miss it, which they are a lot, but you promised to him that you would return the favors.

You immediately get off of the bed and go to the bathroom for a quick shower and choose clothes to wear very distractedly, not having enough time to choose what to wear, not that everyone would mind anyway. You change your clothes, grab a quick snack from the fridge, and run downstairs. Don heard you from the steps and wanted to have another discussion about Lucy's whereabouts, but you didn't have time. You quickly shut him off with an "I'm late! No time!" without even listening to him. After a long run since you don't own a car, too expensive for your inexistent bank account, you finally arrive.

"Y/N! We need you to wait tables. No time to lose. " Your boss says with a nonchalant attitude and goes straight to the kitchen, not even looking at you. It's a good way to start the day with a lot of hungry and grumpy people waiting for you. You put on your work apron and immediately go to the first table you see, taking orders, giving them to the boss, and moving to another table. Repeat until you get the food and give it to the client, hoping they won't complain and put more stress on you since there is no one else taking the orders on the other tables. Well, I guess you own TK more than you owe a favor back.

It doesn't take long until your workload becomes unbearable. This causes you to lose any remaining energy. That little energy you recover from sleeping was used up by a person who accidentally had a hamburger with prickles in it when they said they ordered it without them.You had to call the boss to stop this pointless squabble, or the client would definitely throw his hands on you. As much as you hoped that it was the only customer having a fit, your optimism dwindled with each passing hour. The customer acting mean was not common, but it still remains in your head. Nobody is going to be able to give you your energy back at this point.

Your manager, luckily, saw your obvious tiredness and sent you home immediately; otherwise, you would have been fired. Because you wouldn't be able to pay Lucy's half, you needed extra hours to work, but your supervisor didn't want to hear it. He was as stubborn as you, but expect you. He had the authority to do so, and you can't really blame him for sending you home. You're walking down the street with a very tired expression, and your legs barely move. You can feel eyes on you, but you don't care. You just need to go to your apartment.

As you move closer to the apartment door, your steps get weaker. Even with a small bit of drowsiness, you managed to avoid fainting in public. Your exhausted mind convinced you that you could climb all the stairs to the second floor, find the nearest sofa, and rest there for the entire day. That is what you intended, but it appears that your body disagreed with you, as you passed out after closing the front door and everything went dark. Before dropping unconscious, you just heard Don's voice.

"Y/n!? Y/n!! " Don was able to catch you before you hit your head on the floor; thank God he was near to the front door, otherwise you would have woken up with a severe headache, as if not having enough energy wasn't bad enough. Don gave you a little shake in the hopes that you would wake up. He didn't say anything else since he was stunned.

Don quickly recovers from the frantic shock, and he brings you to your apartment in bridal style, ignoring the tease comments from Miss Grace, and puts you in your bed. He knew this day would come, when your body would no longer be able to handle it, just as it had done for him when he was younger. It would drag him back into the past, which he despised, but he couldn't leave you alone.

"God damn it, kid. You're too nice to her. " Don says frustrated and takes care of you, as a landlord, he isn't supposed to do this. What are you doing to him, kid, he felt his face burning as he saw y/n's drowsy face, almost enchanted by their beauty. He shouldn't be feeling this way; it's completely inappropriate.You were much younger and full of hope than he was. He is an old guy with back problems. You wouldn't date him under any circumstances.

He sighs and puts it out of his mind, suppressing his childish "teenager" emotions; now is not the time to dwell about it because Y/n is still in a difficult situation. Don takes his phone from his jacket and dials Lucy's number, but the phone rings in the kitchen. Lucy must have forgotten her phone today, which is strange because she always has it with her. Don waited for Lucy to arrive home while keeping an eye on y/n in case they died while sleeping.

Lucy returned home with a sad expression on her face, ready to face y/n and accept their support. Her opposition was childish, but it was better late than never. She was prepared to improve y/n's situation. She shuts the door behind her and recognizes Don's presence in the kitchen right away. Lucy was about to crack a joke until she realized Don's scary expression. He wasn't carrying his typical grouchy face. She forgets about the joke and asks as to why he is here.

"It's time for us to talk." "You already know what this discussion will be about." Don crosses his arms and speaks in a harsher tone, practically spilling poison from his mouth. Lucy is even more frightened, but she attempts to hide it by adopting a defensive posture and bracing herself for whatever Don has to say. She preferred to speak with y/n rather than Don, but she knew she needed to listen before dismissing him as she usually does. Before Lucy can defend herself, Don takes the lead in the conversation.

"Due to exhaustion from covering your share of the bills, your roommate passed out in front of the entrance." Don says to Lucy and takes her to the y/n room to show her what she's done. Lucy's expression shifts from confused to horrified to mortified. She rushes over to y/n and instantly takes their hand to check their pulse. She was so embarrassed and she requested Don to call a doctor right away.

"I took care of that while you were away. Doing whatever you usually do instead of looking for work" Don hisses and leans on Y/n's door, his arms still crossed in his chest. Lucy is unable to face Don and instead looks with shame and guilt at Y/n's drowsy face. Lucy begins to cry out of humiliation as her grip on y/n's hand becomes a bit tight. Don says nothing more except that he wants to help her avoid repeating the situation. Apart from that, Don offers Lucy some privacy and Lucy can find Don in his office, but Lucy stops him by stating she needs to get a job right now to repay y/n.

Heey! i hope you enjoyed the first chapter! there gonna be 3 pages in total! I publish it on AO3 and the next chapter will be online soon! Please be patience. Im sorry if they sound ocs or if don wasn’t always there, but i promise there gonna be more content in the next pages. Also,please comment if i accidentally put a gender to Y/N. They are gender neutral by default.

#don williams #your boyfriend #your boyfriend don #your boyfriend x reader #don williams x reader #your boyfriend game #yourboyfriendgame #your boyfriend tk #your boyfriend lucy #your boyfriend visual novel

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barakittens517 · 2 years

Text

PT III: The Reunion

Summary: In which chaos ensues (AKA the more the merrier, or whatever.)

PT II: The Finding PT IV: The Discovering

Words: 3,663

Warnings: mentions of alcohol use, minor (slightly graphic) character death, minor religious themes, mentions of past physical abuse (brief)

Pairing: Morpheus x gender neutral reader

Notes: tbh i couldn't write a fic and *not* include the absolute insanity of the cereal convention. personal shout out to caffeine for fueling 98% of this. sending good vibes to ellis bc they're about to get emotionally wrecked eight ways from sunday <333

Tag List: @ponyboys-sunsets @i-am-not-a-raccoon-anymore

“Morning, sunshine,” Blade Runner calls out. You’re conscious again, and your entire brain is throbbing in protest. You’re sitting in a cushioned armchair. Your hands are tied in your lap, and your ankles have been tied to the chair legs. You try to stand and discover Blade has looped a rope in a makeshift noose, tied around the back of the chair.

You try to swallow the panic rising in your throat. “What’s… the whole point of this?” you ask.

“We’re going to have some fun, now,” Blade calls from out of view. You notice the hotel’s hardcover Bible on the bed in front of you. The corner is covered in blood- no wonder you have such a magnificent headache.

He strolls back into view and holds up a straight razor. “Well, I’m going to have some fun,” he corrects himself. “One of us has to.”

He seats himself on the end of the bed in front of you. He opens his mouth as if to start a monologue, and promptly shuts it. It takes a moment to realize your sunglasses are gone.

“Y-your eyes… they’re… glowing…” he whispers under his breath. You refuse to look away from him, even as he falls to his knees in front of you.

“I don’t believe in that kind of thing,” he says shakily, “No, that’s not true.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, but you know what’s going to happen now. “It’s true, whether you believe it or not,” you reply.

He’s crying now, an ugly sobbing that makes you sick to your stomach. “I didn’t want to,” he cries, “But they weren’t good people either!”

He’s gripping the straight razor so hard it’s cutting through his fingers. If it hurts, he doesn’t notice. “I’m not sorry,” he spits, and for a moment you’re afraid he’s going to hurt you. “But I’m not worth forgiving, either.”

You watch in horror as he begins slashing his wrists. Within moments the bedspread is soaked in crimson, and Blade falls face-first to the carpet.

You want to scream, to panic, to run as fast and as far away from this fucking hotel as possible, but you can’t do anything all tied up. You fidget enough to get your boots off, and your legs slide easily out of the rope. You use your hands to hold the noose out as you slide down to the floor.

You grab your boots and your aviators from the table and rush to the door. You can hear voices in the hallway, talking and laughing. You catch the rope around your hands on the locked door handle and wriggle your hands free. Your wrists are red and sore.

You slide the aviators over your face and wait for the hallway to fall silent before making a break for the stairs.

You make it back to the Corinthian’s room without interruption. You thank every god you can think of that he isn’t back yet. You lock the door and push one of the nightstands against it, just in case. You’ll order room service if you have to, but you’re not going back to that damned convention.

Your head hurts- not just from the obvious head wound. No, you really thought things were starting to make sense after talking with the Corinthian. Now you’re even more confused, and you have no one to talk to.

Your first idea is to take a hot shower. You dress in a pair of skinny jeans and a clean hoodie- there had never really been a point in owning pajamas. You settle in on one of the queen-sized beds and try to clear your mind. For once in your life, you’d rather be sleeping. Anything to keep from flashing back to the conference, and to Blade Runner.

He had been hunting other killers, but why? And even without the religious guilt Ryan had, he still killed himself. He had told you that your eyes were glowing. You walk to the bathroom mirror and stare for a long time, waiting to see what he was talking about.

Nothing.

You give up with a defeated sigh and return to the room. Whatever sleep looks like for you, it never comes easy. There’s a miniature electric teapot next to the Keurig on the office desk. Packets of chamomile and hot cocoa sit in a porcelain mug.

You boil a cup for yourself and dip the chamomile tea bag in, relishing in the warmth and the calm that it brings. After the mug is empty, you place it on the remaining nightstand and curl up under the covers. This time you dream of a memory.

“Ellis!” a woman’s voice rings out. You’re standing in the backyard of a brick mansion.

“Coming!” you yell in response.

You remember this day. You had come to London, lost as hell and wandering the streets about two months ago. A kind older woman named Ms. Jude, who ran a rather profitable orphanage on the outskirts of town. In exchange for helping her take care of the young ones, she let you stay.

“Now Ellis, you remember I told you I’ve been looking for a family,” Ms. Jude announces once you reach the kitchen. You nod. “Well, I believe I found one.” She grins proudly. “They’ll be here any minute now.”

You give her a hug and express your gratitude, but inside, your heart sinks. You didn’t want to leave Ms. Jude and the orphanage alone. You certainly didn’t want to start all over again, acquainting yourself with strangers.

Before you have time to even express this to Ms. Jude, the bell on the front door rings. Ms. Jude pats you gently on the shoulder. “It will be lovely for you, I promise,” she says. You follow her to the front door and meet your new family- the Marwoods. Saul, Evie, and their two children, David and Eden.

Time warps in front of you, only a month after you first left Ms. Jude. You found out very quickly that Saul was a mean drunk, and Evie could not- no, would not do anything to stop him. He left their own children alone, of course, but you were an easy target.

You watch, frozen in terror, as you relive the first time he laid hands on you. David and Eden had made a mess of the house, and although you had tried to clean up before Saul came home, they had broken a valuable family heirloom.

“What a waste of money you were,” he spat. “Don’t you bother comin’ back to this house.”

They were wrong about you, a voice echoes from behind you. A voice you recognize. The man from the ivory gates.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask, looking around blindly for any sign of him. He appears like smoke from the corner of the room. The memory has ended.

I have been looking for the creations I have lost, he answers. He steps closer to you, and you instinctively shrink back. He’s tall, and pale, dressed in a coat that shimmers in starlight and ends in flames.

So this is the Creator the Corinthian was talking about. Morpheus.

“The Corinthian is gone,” you say, “He’s not here.”

The stranger’s eyes flash with anger. Where is he?

You swallow the fear bubbling in your chest. “I… I don’t know. He left me here.”

Morpheus disappears in a whirlwind of sand, and you’re alone.

You wake up feeling worse than before. Your head is still throbbing, and there is an amount of dried blood staining the hotel pillow. Someone is trying to open the door. It unlocks, but between the chain lock and the nightstand, there’s no way to get through.

“Ellis!” you hear the Corinthian yell. “Do you mind telling me what the hell this is all for?” You rush to move the furniture and unlock the door for him. He’s standing with a younger boy.

“Sorry,” you mutter, “Uh… weird convention.” The Corinthian gives you a look, but he doesn’t press it any further in front of the kid.

“Alright, Jed,” he says, turning to the kid, “This whole room is yours. Anything you want to watch, anything you want to order from room service, go for it. On one condition.” He gives you a knowing look. “Stay in the room.”

Jed seems fine with the deal and immediately settles in. The Corinthian motions for you to follow him out in the hallway. You grab your bag and put on your aviators, assuming the worst.

You follow him to the hotel bar, keeping your eyes on the patterned carpet. There’s no way anyone knows what you did to Blade Runner already, but you never know. And you certainly don’t want to meet anyone else like him.

The Corinthian picks a table at the back and orders a vodka lemonade and a whiskey sour, on the rocks. Just like old times. You try to give the impression that you’re not in full panic mode, and you definitely don’t know you’re surrounded by serial killers. The Corinthian doesn’t buy it.

“So… I heard something pretty awful happened the other night,” he starts. You frown.

“Oh?”

The Corinthian nods, taking a sip of whiskey. “Oh, yeah. Turns out one of these guys was, uh… hunting down fellow collectors. Nimrod found out this morning. Whole room’s covered in blood and photographs of some of us. Cleaning bill’s gonna be a nightmare.”

“That’s, uh… That sounds pretty ominous for a cereal fan,” you reply.

The Corinthian laughs darkly. “Cut the shit, Ellis,” he says, leaning in close. “You know what we are here. And I know what you did.”

You take a sip of vodka to calm your nerves and realize your hand is shaking. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. These people are fucking weird, though.”

He shakes his head. “Ellis, I know what happened. Blade Runner didn’t just kill himself. And I bet you your head hurts pretty bad still, considering all that blood in the room. Now, do you want to tell me what the fuck happened?”

Your mind is racing with all of the potential bullshit excuses, but you already know you’re screwed. “I didn’t do anything on purpose. They invited me to the panel last night, and I only stayed for a little bit! I wasn’t trying to fuck up, I swear. But between getting killed and being killed, I’m glad that asshole is dead.”

For once, the Corinthian grins. He raises his glass to clink against yours. “I’ll drink that.”

You sit in silence for a moment. You figure he deserves to know. “He’s looking for you, you know,” you say.

The Corinthian sets his empty glass down and signals to the bartender for another. “I know.”

Do you tell him about the dream? That Morpheus found you? The Corinthian sighs. “It’s been over a century. I’d be an idiot not to expect it.”

“What are you going to do?”

He smiles. “I’m hoping I won’t have to do a thing. That’s why Jed’s here. That vortex of a girl could take care of Dream in an instant.”

“Vortex?” you ask.

He nods. “Once every hundred years or so, some poor soul has enough potential to set us free. Dream kills them. Every. Time. Not now, though. Not with her.”

You pretend that that makes sense, but it doesn’t.

“I guess I hope it goes well, then,” you reply.

You want to ask more questions, to tell the Corinthian that Morpheus himself fucking spoke to you, but Nimrod appears and nervously taps on the table.

“You, uh, you ready for your big speech?” he asks. “We’re getting everything set up in the auditorium right now.

The Corinthian smiles. “Sounds great. I’ll be there in just a second.” Nimrod nods and quickly walks out of the bar. You don’t understand how one man can look so scared of everything, and still have the balls to murder people for fun.

The Corinthian turns back to you. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“Am I supposed to… What am I supposed to do?” you ask. He shrugs.

“You already know what we are here. Hell, you fit right in, don’t you? Tell you what, get another drink or two, clear your head a bit, and then head down to the auditorium. As long as you don’t suicide anyone, I don’t see the problem.”

Your stomach turns. “O-okay. Cool.” He signals to the bartender to get you another drink and leaves. When the bartender comes with your next drink, you tip him $20 out of your bag. Something doesn’t feel right.

I mean, it’s a serial killer convention, of course it’s not right. But something feels off about the day, and you wish the Corinthian didn’t have to leave so soon. You wander into the hotel lobby and practically collapse onto one of the cushioned benches.

Everything is so overwhelming. You’re surrounded by serial killers- hell, at this point you technically qualify as one of them. And if Morpheus is looking for his creations, only to find you with the Corinthian, you’re surely going to end up dead. Or worse. You don't even know what worse would be, but remembering the fiery look in his eyes, you don’t want to find out.

“Are you alright, dear? Bit dark in here for glasses, I’d think,” someone says. You look up and come face to face with an older man, wearing a large green overcoat and carrying a peculiar-looking cane. He seems harmless enough, but he’s wearing a name tag that reads The Dutch Uncle.

Jesus Christ, you cannot catch a break from these assholes. You push your sunglasses farther up onto your face and fake a smile. “I’m fine, thanks,” you say bitterly.

He looks offended, surprisingly. “My apologies for intruding, really. I’m, uh, I’m not here for the convention.” His eyes widen when he catches the name tag clipped to your sweatshirt. “The Corinthian?” he whispers.

You nod. “I’m not here for it either. But, yeah, I came with him.”

“And you’re alive?” he asks.

You want to laugh, but you don’t. “Yes, I’m alive.”

He takes the seat next to you and leans in with a quiet voice. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but how is that possible?”

You shrug, trying not to think about the way in which you met the nightmare. There have been too many deaths, too much blood on your hands. You’re exhausted, down to the very bone. Living this long has been tiring, but it’s never been this hectic.

“He’s not interested in me, I guess. He’s looking for someone else.”

The Dutch Uncle looks even more concerned now. “Oh, dear… Then I suppose you already know what he is capable of. Is he still on the premises?”

You nod towards the auditorium. “He’s about to give a speech, actually. I was about to head in. Did you want to come with me?”

The Dutch Uncle shakes his head. “No, no I don’t want to do that. I- actually, you said he was looking for someone else. Do you know who that might be?”

“It’s not you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Some girl. Something about ‘’she’s a vortex’, yadda yadda yadda,” you explain.

His jaw drops, if only for a moment. “Do you know her name?”

“Rose Walker. He brought her brother here, too. He’s trying to, I don’t know, he said something about setting everyone free. I don’t understand.”

The Dutch Uncle stands up abruptly. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I need to leave. I happen to have brought Rose Walker here. I- oh, I have made a terrible mistake. I must speak with Lucienne before he gets here.”

“Good luck, I guess,” you call after him, but he’s already rushing out of the lobby. You sigh and head towards the auditorium. There’s no use missing the Corinthian’s speech. It will probably make you sick to your stomach- again- but it’s better than doing nothing.

You take a seat at the back of the auditorium, careful to distance yourself from the regular convention members. Nimrod is standing nervously at the front, organizing his notes on the podium.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have some announcements before I introduce our guest speaker. Firstly, I’d like to thank everyone for making the trip this year. I’m glad to see so many of us gathered, if only for a couple of days. Now, the opportunity to be in the running for next year’s cash prize ends at 3PM this afternoon. Please find either myself or the Dark Angel to sign up.” He pauses momentarily, scanning the faces in the crowd. He stops when he notices you in the back.

“I, uh, I have some bad- rather, some mixed news about our convention this year. Yesterday, the organizers discovered a collector of collectors, if you will, in our midst.” The crowd gasps, but Nimrod, undaunted, continues. “The threat to our cherished community has been extinguished. But it is with utmost disappointment that I tell you Blade Runner has committed the unforgivable deed. Please note that we will be taking extra precautions in the future to avoid another such disturbance.”

He coughs, breaking the silence that follows. The discomfort in the room is palpable, but Nimrod soldiers on. “With the formalities out of the way, it truly is my pleasure now to introduce… a man dear to all of our hearts, a legend in his own lifetime… The Corinthian!”

A deafening applause breaks out, and you’re drawn to clapping with the rest of them. The blonde nightmare looks pleased with the reception as Nimrod quickly disappears off stage.

“You know, I don’t usually speak in public,” the Corinthian starts, “but the opportunity of talking to all of you is just too good to pass up. Because you are special people. Very special people…” The nightmare continues, but you’re distracted by someone pulling on your sweatshirt sleeve. It’s Nimrod, and he is visibly pissed.

“Come with me,” he whispers tersely, and as much as you’d rather fucking not, you follow him out to the back of the auditorium. The maintenance room. Your heart is pounding in your chest. You remember the look he gave you during his speech. He knows you killed Blade Runner.

“I-I’m not sure what this is about,” you stutter, “but the Corinthian gave me permission to be in the audience. If that’s the problem here.”

Nimrod glares. “That is very much not the problem here, but I’ll have to take note of his overstepping convention rules. You are not a collector, and you never should have come here.” He’s closing the distance between you now, until you’re backed into one of the cold, metal walls.

“I can leave,” you say, but Nimrod shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to fix things. Blade Runner was an admirable kill, even I’ll admit that, but I don’t believe we can just let you walk out of here.” He’s pulled a syringe out of his pocket, and grins menacingly. “Dark Angel let me borrow some of her supplies for this one. I may have to invest in it. Flunitrazepam, I believe she called it. Makes it easier to truly savor the experience.”

“I thought he killed himself,” you say, sliding along the wall until you’re backed into the very corner. Nimrod pauses.

“We thought so, as well, until we noticed he must’ve had someone with him. Someone who compelled him. It really wasn’t difficult to trace security footage- granted, it’s all been deleted now. I’m curious, as the Corinthian’s plus-one, who are you, really?”

You eye the door behind you, trying to find a way to stall for time. Nimrod looks fairly old, and you’re probably faster than him. “Nobody, honestly. I’m not anyone. I’m not important,” you reply. The words sting as they leave your mouth. You really don’t fucking matter at all. Even if Nimrod were to gut you like an animal, it wouldn’t make a difference to the universe.

“I don’t believe that,” he snaps. “What are you, in training? What’s with the glasses?” Before you have a moment to react, he’s snatched them off of your face.

Shitshitshitshit-

“No,” you say coldly. As Nimrod stares you down, you watch the expression on his face speedrun the five stages of grief.

“But that’s not possible,” he breathes, “I’ve done everything for Him. Am I not Nimrod, a mighty hunter before the Lord?”

“Not at all,” you answer, although you know he’s not listening to you. You wish above all that you didn’t have to be a witness the entire time.

Why now, after a century of wandering the earth, was this happening to you? You’d never wished death on anyone, even the Marlowes. You didn’t believe in any god, for crying out loud! You’d been abandoned by everyone. If there were a god, he owed you.

Nimrod is crying quietly now, having accepted the fate before him. He plunges the syringe into his chest, and within a minute he is lying on the floor, eyes wide open. He’s still breathing, but you wonder how long that will last.

Your sunglasses, unfortunately, are a lost cause. They’re crushed underneath his body, and there’s no use in trying to retrieve them. Without a second thought, you rush back to the auditorium. You need to tell the Corinthian that they think it’s his fault. That they’re going to turn on him.

But you’re too late.

The audience is silent, eyes closed. Asleep. The nightmare is speaking with a tall man in a flaming coat- Morpheus. You can only catch a part of what they’re saying. The Corinthian is arguing with him, something about humanity. You stand, transfixed in horror, as the nightmare begins to dissipate to sand.

“I created you poorly, then,” you hear Morpheus say, “As I do uncreate you now.”

Oh, fuck.

#morpheus x reader #dream x gn! reader #the corinthian #netflix sandman #the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless

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