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#is dismissal execution now?
fallenfawnn · 2 years
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Do you have BPD or have you been tested for it? Your symptoms match it.
everyone in my asks is a therapist today lol
sorry that isn’t really directly at you because you asked pretty directly and respectfully but like.. it’s just been a thing today.
anyways. i actually kind of answered this last week but to summarize.. no, i haven’t been tested. yes, i know i likely meet the diagnostic criteria and heavily relate to the lived experiences of others with BPD. i also am aware of the complexities and overlaps with other things like CPTSD, autism, dissociative disorders, etc.
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shanieveh · 18 days
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jealousy, jealousy . . .
- everyone can see his rageful eyes as he looks at the both you, except for you (genshin men)
Murder. Execution. Homocide. These were the words echoing in NEUVILLETTE's mind as he looked at the two of you.
How can you sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?
The chief justice can't do jokes, unlike him. He can't smile and jest so easily, unlike him, and that's what infuriates him. But little did he know, that precious smile of yours can only be made because the topic of conversation was him.
The God of Geo gave prosperity and stability to the land of Liyue and that is about to crumble if ZHONGLI looked at the both of you dancing for even one morea second.
A childhood bestfriend, huh?
Then why was he so eager to grab your waist?! That was his to grab! Didn't you say you were his and that we was yours? Enough. That guy won't mind a bit of indestructible power of earth and contracts? He... was about to face the wrath of the rock.
At this rate, WRIOTHESLEY would have a brand new prisoner. Every single one of his friends is forcing him to keep his fists in his pockets and so far it has not been working.
Don't give my spouse some puny ass flowers, you punk!
His mind was going into the direction of violence, chanting the ancient languages of tevyat to send this guy into Celestia. But as you saw him and smiled happily and gave him a flying kiss... why was he mad again?
LYNEY was not the jealous type, he thinks so. So when he say you with him out of all people, it popped off twelve bloodvessels. You shouldn't be near him, that was your ex! He was taller, much more muscular..
He can't be insecure, he was Lyney after all!
He was deeply insecure, more than everything. No more glints of rage and sadness, but rather, a sad cat in need of cuddling and as you see this poor sight you immediately dismissed your ex. He was your home after all, the love of your life.
So it wasn't normal to destroy several properties after learning your significant other kissed someone in the cheek? ALHAITHAM knew it was a 5 year old but it didn't make a big of a difference. That for me him was betrayal.
Oh so you want cuddles now? After everything you did?
It took you 71 hours and 56 minutes of constant cooing and cuddling and reassurance for the big baby to forgive you for kissing an actual baby. In the end he hugged your chest in front of that 5 year old and smirked for him to know his place.
KAEYA was a natural flirt who gives flattery to everyone who surrounds him, so when another guy gives you that type of flattery then he wishes to relish the depths of hell.
What do you they look like most echanting rose?! Don't compare them to a mere flower!!
And the list of argument comes on as he mades on his way to you both with a sparkle in his eyes. A mission. To wipe that guy's stupid smirk off his face. Forever.
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
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“Abso-fuckin-lutely not,” he said.
He was so serious and adamant one would have thought you had asked him to remove his balaclava so Auntie Maurie could pinch his cheeks.
“Are you allergic, Lieutenant?” you asked, extending “that thing,” as he referred to it, in front of his face.
"Get that thing away," he yelled, taking a step back. He couldn't even look at it.
“Lieutenant, it’s a kitten, not shit,” you explained with a smirk. Still, he dismissed your point, stating it was the same thing, using agricultural produce as references: “tomayto, tomahto, potayto, potahto,” and stuff like that.
But you took it with you to the base anyway. He wasn’t in charge of such executive decisions, and the Captain allowed it, saying it was a good solution for the mice problem.
You fed and cared for it the way its mother would have if she weren't dead, but Ghost was far from happy with the new addition to the family.
He side-eyed it and always questioned its motives like it was some tango. “Why is it doing that?” and “why is it looking at me weird?” were his two most common questions. To which the answers were always, “it’s a fucking cat,” and “you’re the one who's looking at it weird.”
But he was warming up to it every day; not in the way water warms up on the stove, but in the way the ocean’s layers have different temperatures.
At first, he learned to acknowledge the kitten, or the kitten taught him to do so. The verdict was not out yet, as you and the rest of the team had different opinions.
Then, it came in the way a higher-up would scold his soldiers, with statements such as “stop playing with the focken gun slings, you little shit,” or “get out of my boot.”
And then it was more of a conversational thing, where the kitten would meow at him, and Ghost would reply something along the lines of “it’s tea; you don’t drink tea,” and he would proceed to show the cup to the cat as evidence. Like he didn’t want to hurt its feelings or betray its trust.
Later on, he’d pretend to throw a little piece of chicken to the ground accidentally, and the kitten would run to it. He’d look at the kitten and mutter something like “ah, shit, too late to pick it up now, innit”, and let the kitten have it. It was like a secret handshake between the two of them, thinking that no one would notice.
But you did.
Just like you look at them now, Lieutenant Simon “get that thing off my face” Riley lying on the couch with that kitten sleeping on his chest.
And he looks at you, looking at him, and you open your mouth to say something.
But he stops you. He brings his index finger to his mouth and shooshes you, gesturing at his sweet little “stop playing with my shoelaces” ginger companion.
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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facts about The Fear, after 20 years of life with her
The Fear is NOT:
an intruder, invader, or some other entity from "outside" You
inappropriate, wrong, or incorrect
a responsibility
a punishment
"irrational" or otherwise able to be understood through a relationship to "rationality"
an "inaccurate" representation of reality
The Fear IS:
an innate part of you
extra-rational—she exists outside and completely independent from "rationality" and does not respond to being judged according to that lens
self-love—her purpose is to protect you and keep you safe
self-sufficient—fear is a 100% whole, complete entity that doesn't "represent" or "reflect" something else
earnest—fear is always a 100% real experience that is exactly as it is felt, and, needing no comparison or reference to any external reality, it is not "dishonest" or "inaccurate"— it asserts a claim about only itself
subversive [not quite the word I am looking for but it will have to do]— is not necessarily beholden to social and cultural norms of what should be feared, how much, and how you should respond. She does not stop existing in the absence or suppression of vocabulary to describe her.
a demand for care— she does not just communicate to you but to the community you are part of; she calls attention to an obligation that this community has toward you, to make sure that you are safe within it and that your experiences are heard and understood.
yeah, so, i've had severe anxiety for my whole life and the way it's been treated and dealt with, and the way I've been taught to understand it, has really fucked me up so I am trying to lay the groundwork for understanding it differently
I think it's pretty fucked up that we're taught to see anxiety as deceptive or inaccurate. Now, obviously the images or projections in my fearful thoughts do not usually "reflect reality," but I have come to see this as...not particularly important?
Teaching an anxiety sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict "irrational" fear is, in my opinion, the same as teaching a chronic pain sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict pain with no clear physical source. You might as well speak of "irrational" pain, and pain has the same relationship to rationality that fear has.
"Irrationality" is a quality assigned to fear that is judged by an outside observer, or by the collective cultural biases and hang-ups of a society, as not appropriate to a given situation. This is total fucking nonsense and we should be talking about that, because...well, the first reason is that it implies some kind of fixed standard for what fear ultimately is and isn't for. i like to tell people to watch one of those Coyote Peterson videos where he's going to get a tarantula hawk wasp to sting him, because he's obviously having a strong physical fear response, even though he knows it won't kill him. Is it "rational" to fear suffering and not just death? How much suffering? Sit with that one a little while.
The second reason, which is even more convincing, is that the "rational" brain is not consulted at any point, ever, when a person feels afraid. It's just a response. The fear response is not routed through the conscious, sapient, reasoning brain. And thank God, because if we needed to hear back from an upstairs executive before we could decide whether to run from a lion, our species would be extinct.
Techniques like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy were absolute fucking shit at making my life any better, but fantastic at wrecking my ability to identify my own emotions, because Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for anxiety basically amounts to trying to brainwash yourself into thinking you don't feel the emotions that you do. It's a really neat way to develop bizarre psychosomatic symptoms and start experiencing anxiety through constant body pain, swollen lymph nodes, and digestive issues.
For an institution that pathologizes having "alters," psychiatry sure loves to encourage a suffering person to view normal and ultimately good parts of themselves as distinct, intruding entities to be shoved in a closet somewhere.
And yes. Fear is ultimately a good part of you, a part of you that loves you.
What began to set me free was feeling that acid terror and sickness and rage course through my body and realizing—really realizing—that I was being illuminated with this ancient, powerful force driving me to LIVE.
I want us to make it. I want you to live.
And you know what, I want me to live too.
I abandoned the doctrine of calming down—Lord knows it had never worked anyway—and started really just exploring and existing in the Fear.
How did that feel? Bad. Very very very very very bad and really not productive or helpful at all initially. Which was unavoidable. Necessary. She had been frantically clawing to communicate with me for so long, and I had been shutting her away, silencing her, resenting her presence in my psyche. I started trying to show gratitude toward the signals my body gave me. I started trying to show gratitude toward her—and i guess the Fear was a Her now, this just seemed more respectful.
And it seemed like nothing happened, but several things happened.
I stopped searching for validation. That was a big one. At some point I just...stopped needing a "reason" or justification for the fear I felt (trauma???? neurodivergence???? neurodivergence trauma????) and the fact that I experienced it became completely sufficient and satisfying to me. So much guilt and confusion disappeared.
I also became steadily more confident about my own boundaries, particularly in regards to recovery.
It's awful now that I think about it, but I think I felt this sense of almost moral obligation towards "recovery," as if I needed to "overcome fear" to be Courageous and Virtuous. It made me feel crushing guilt to feel any hesitation about this.
But then this started to change. It became more real to me that was the only person affected by the steps I did or didn't take toward recovery, and there was no moral dimension to it. A therapist couldn't put me in a box I wouldn't willingly go into.
Freedom from these judgmental frameworks is really important to me. I think that I always hated the idea of getting "better" because it seemed like "better" would mean just getting better at submitting to things I was afraid of while everything felt just as bad as it always did on the inside.
And on some level—even though I could never put it into words at the time—I violently hated the idea of "recovery" from some of my fears because it seemed like the ultimate denial of agency. I didn't want to "become okay with it"—the possibility felt dehumanizing. It felt awful.
And I realize now that this is because The Fear represented something I needed to have a right to. Many of my most life-destroying fears centered around things being done to my body, and if I could have pressed a button and been no longer afraid, I wouldn't have, even though it would have spared me so much suffering, because...I needed it to be okay to want agency over my body. I needed it to be right. The Fear, in this case, was a demand that my body be treated as sacred.
I realized that there were many cases where The Fear was a territorial claim of sorts, a demand that certain needs be honored and met—She needs this. This is FUCKING non-negotiable.
And it really...prompted me to look backward on my life and see The Fear differently: not as a responsibility I had failed to shoulder (me?? a little child??? responsible?? Responsible for being brave, when every day felt like facing a firing squad?????) but as a collective responsibility
Because I was not alone in those memories—I was surrounded by adults that saw me suffering, and often dismissed, ignored or ridiculed it. The Fear grew larger and larger; why?—to protect me. Because teachers, nurses, doctors, and camp counselors did not do any of the thousand thousand things they could have done to make that little girl feel safe. Because my well-meaning parents praised me when I was "brave" but I, a little kid, literally couldn't communicate how awful it always felt.
The Fear was not there to torture me. The Fear was and is doing her best to keep me safe. It's not wrong, there's no need for guilt. It just is.
It doesn't feel good. But maybe one day it will feel better.
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edenesth · 5 months
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The Chosen One
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Pairing: prince!San x palace maid!reader
Word Count: 0.9k
'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |
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Your hands trembled as you worked to remove the layers of clothing that adorned his highness. Cursing under your breath, you struggled to suppress the trembling, but the intensity of his gaze only added to the challenge.
It was the first time you were tasked with undressing the prince, the first time you'd ever been this close to him.
Previously, your responsibilities revolved around tasks that kept you at a safe distance, such as tidying his chambers or caring for his gardens – all performed in his absence.
So, can anyone really blame you for shaking like a leaf right now?
Sure, the prince was not exactly someone you were unfamiliar with. He was only the Crown Prince Choi San of Wonderland, the most sought-after bachelor across all realms. Despite being of marriageable age for several years, he remained elusive in choosing a bride, leaving the entire kingdom in suspense and speculation.
Like countless other girls in the palace and throughout the country, you have imagined what it would be like to capture the crown prince's heart. In the quiet corners of your mind, you often allowed yourself to daydream about being the one he would choose as his consort.
It was a shared fantasy among the palace staff and citizens alike, fueled by the allure of the prince's unparalleled charm.
However, reality would quickly shatter those dreams every time.
Or so you thought.
Earlier that day, you nearly dropped an expensive vase when the palace messenger delivered the startling news. The prince himself had requested your presence to prepare him for his bath tonight. The words hung in the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. It seemed like an absurd jest, a cruel prank orchestrated by the fates.
The other maids in the vicinity exchanged puzzled glances, mirroring your own disbelief.
Why would Prince San single you out for such an intimate task? There was a fixed group of maids responsible for attending to his bedtime rituals, a routine they'd executed diligently for as long as anyone could remember.
Tonight, however, the prince had dismissed them all, demanding only your presence.
The shock reverberated through your being.
All this time, you'd believed yourself to be a mere speck in the grand tapestry of the palace, convinced that the prince probably didn't even know you existed. Yet, here you were, faced with an inexplicable summons that defied all reason.
Unbeknownst to you, Prince San had noticed you from the very beginning, weaving himself into the fabric of your everyday life. In quiet moments of solitude, he observed you with an attentive gaze, drawn to the kindness that radiated from your every action. Your grace and compassion set you apart, creating a magnetic pull that transcended the boundaries of nobility.
He's had his sights set on you for quite some time now, patiently waiting for the right moment to make his move. To him, you were unlike anyone he had ever encountered – pure, innocent, and delicate, akin to a beautiful flower.
Despite the societal pressures urging him to consider matches with noble backgrounds, the prince had been quietly searching for loopholes that would allow him to break free from tradition.
All he wanted was you.
Now here you were, right in front of him.
The air in the prince's chamber felt charged with a peculiar tension as you carefully worked on removing the final layer of his clothing. Each article brought you closer to an intimacy that seemed surreal, given the disparity in your stations.
When the last garment slipped away, revealing the bare expanse of the prince's skin, you hesitated, your fingers hovering momentarily above him. It was an intimate act that felt like a crossing of boundaries, leaving you momentarily paralysed by the realisation of the closeness.
Noticing your nervous demeanour, Prince San reached out with a gentle touch. His warm hand enveloped yours, steadying the tremors that ran through your fingers. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you froze, feeling the warmth of his touch travel through your entire being. Blinking rapidly, you tried to compose yourself, but the intensity of his gaze held you captive.
Shaken, you took a steadying breath, grateful for the grounding touch of his hand. The prince, still holding onto your trembling hands, offered a gentle smile that melted away the tension.
"Do I scare you?" He asked, his tone soft and caring. Overwhelmed, you shook your head, words momentarily escaping you, "N-no, my prince. Of course not!" You stammered, your voice betraying a blend of awe and nervousness.
With your hands still cradled in his, he sensed your vulnerability. His eyes, filled with understanding, bore into yours as he tilted your head upward, guiding you to meet his gaze.
"Are you sure?" He inquired, a soft smile playing on his lips. You nodded, feeling your heart pound at the proximity.
Curling a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he spoke in a hushed tone, "Don't be afraid. I'll never hurt you. You're my chosen one." The weight of his declaration hung in the air, and your mind struggled to comprehend the gravity of those words.
Were you hearing him correctly?
The prince's chosen one – a title that held promises of a future you'd only dared to dream about.
"M-me? But your highness—"
Before you could say more, he closed the distance between you, bridging the gap with a soft, lingering kiss. The world seemed to stand still as your whole being surrendered to the intimacy of the moment. The taste of the unforeseen, the forbidden, lingered on your lips, leaving you breathless and bewildered.
Fluttering your eyes shut, you kissed him back. Perhaps the dreams of being his princess might not be such a distant mirage after all.
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Surprise! Hope this was decent lmao.
I'm not exactly back from my hiatus yet, just felt inspired while admiring the recent concept photos. Had this drafted immediately and thought I'd just put it out.
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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bangtanflirt · 8 months
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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 1)
I'm finally showing up in tags again woohoo! 🥳 Thank you guys for your patience!
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angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: needles, torture collars, misogyny in the workplace, probably very inaccurate business talk (pls suspend disbelief lmao)
____
The day starts off as typical as any other, with your assistant bringing you your morning coffee. You mindlessly take a sip while scrolling through your emails, except what welcomes your lips isn’t the usual Americano, but some Iced Matcha abomination—disgustingly too sweet for nine o’clock in the morning. You look up, ready to give Assistant Min a piece of your mind, but instead see a woman in his place.
“Who are you?”
The woman flashes you a nervous smile, hands fiddling in front of her stomach.
“Yoongi-ssi had an emergency, so I’m filling in. I’m the new hire, S—”
“I don’t care what your name is, this isn’t my coffee order. Bring me my Americano before my first meeting.”
“I’m so sorry! I was taking orders for all the executives, so I got confused. I’ll bring it asap!”
She runs off, feet clicking with each hurried step of her heels.
You toss the unnaturally green drink in the trash, annoyed at the setback in your morning routine. After shooting a quick "Are you okay?" text to Yoongi, you're back to your work.
Emails pile up in your inbox as they do every morning, mountains of classified information that you need to comb through before your 10am meeting. It’s tedious, but it’s the family business after all. Your grandfather started Shin Investments in the forties, and your dad took the business to new heights when he took over, now with your parents retired and on some island in god-knows-where, it’s up to you to make sure the company doesn’t lose its footing in the venture capitalist industry.
It's twenty minutes later when your Americano does arrive. Your eyes narrow into slits upon holding the cup in your hands.
“It’s lukewarm.”
“Oh my god, I apologize! Mr. Han stopped me on the way here, briefing me about what to prep for the afternoon meeting. I did not mean to take so long! I’ll heat it up and bring it back.”
You wave your hand dismissively.
“No need. You’re fired.”
The woman almost stumbles on air at your words, catching her balance quickly.
“Miss Shin p-please..I really need this job! I won’t make a single mistake from now on!”
“Too late.” You reach for the cup, the second one of the day to end up in the trash. “Please leave before I call security. I have work to do and no caffeine to help me.”
She doesn’t leave, but rather falls to her knees, waterworks in full effect. You let out a irritated huff.
“Please! Please, I need this!”
You don’t pay the commotion any attention, used to such scenes happening in your office by now. You simply dial security.
Your receptionist watches the new girl get dragged out, eyes sympathetic as she’s tossed right in front of the front desk.
“She-she fired me…all for a cup of coffee…I’ve worked so hard to get into this company and she just…for a fucking cup of coffee!”
Mascara stains a black rim around her eyes.
“I’m so sorry Seulgi-shi. You don’t deserve that.”
“M-maybe I should go beg for a second chance after some time has passed? What if I come back in the eve—”
“You’ll be wasting your time. That would’ve worked with the previous bosses…but Miss Shin is as tough as it gets. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve seen countless people get fired for less than a cup of coffee—dragged out here just like you.”
You overhear the conversation, as the security guard didn’t properly close the door on their way out. You can’t say it makes you feel all that good, crushing some fresh-faced new hire’s dreams, but it sends a message. You knew what you had to do once the company was signed over for you—how you had to conduct yourself to survive. The world of venture capitalism was cutthroat to say the least, and still considered “not women’s business” by many. The sad reality was that, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you’d have to be feared—because respected was rarely an option. So, you play your role well and let the rumor mill do the rest, so everyone knows not to mess with the ruthless bitch of a CEO at Shin Investments.
You walk into the meeting room and the vibe immediately changes: the once lively room of everyone asking each other how their weekends went turns silent enough to hear a feather fall.  Only sound is that of your red-bottoms click-clacking and earrings jingling. You take your seat, motioning for the standing executives to do the same. They can tell you’re more irritated than usual, and that could easily mean a demotion with one wrong move.
“Everyone’s here so let’s jump into it: where are we with HoloPad?”
“We’re at the audit stage ma’am.”
“Still?”
The tension in the air is palpable.
“Th-there’s been some—erm—gap in the books. They are working on fixing it right now.”
“So they’re cooking the books?”
“I-uh-I wouldn’t say—”
“Calling it something else isn’t going to change the fact that they’re cooking the books Mr.Choi. Call off the deal.”
The executives stare at each other with dumbfounded faces, hushed complaints erupting at the table.
“But ma’am…the CEO is the heir of Jun Tech…it’s not advisable to ruin our relationship with them.”
A bunch of others chime in with the same sentiment, and you have the room of men turned against you as usual.
“Is that so Mr.Choi? Do you really advise me to invest millions into a venture that can’t even provide proper financial records? All to avoid making the Jun family angry? Mind I remind you that this is a business, not a family drama?”
“It’s just—”
“And all of you who agree with Mr.Choi here…don’t think I don’t notice the new watches on your wrists. Can’t be a coincidence, can it? Everyone who wants to continue with the deal happening to buy the newest Jun Tech watches at the same time?”
Five people, including Choi, scramble to take off their watches, heads down in shame.
You let out a hollow laugh. “You all are too dumb to even be bribed properly, I can’t believe it! Anyways, I expect five letters of resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. This is me extending my grace for all the work you’ve done in the company so far, but if you don’t voluntarily leave, I will not hesitate to disgracefully remove you.”
That’s the last thing you say before click-clacking your heels out the room, not missing the outbursts of “bitch” and various other insults blaring from the other side of the door as soon as you leave.
It’s moments like these when you just want to call your father and have him step in to help, but you can’t. You can’t be seen as a fragile little daddy’s girl in a room full of bloodthirsty businessmen. You keep your composure until you’re in the comfort of your office, where you let yourself decompress for a minute. Only a minute, though, because your receptionist is soon knocking at your door to remind you of a charity event tonight—a reminder that would’ve come from the temporary assistant if you had not fired her an hour before.
___
The charity auction seems standard, with the usual crowd flaunting off their rare pieces of art and jewelry under the guise of doing something good. You’re not in a place to judge too much, considering you’re also here doing the same thing. You are the only one who seems to see how ridiculous it all is though, for the little that’s worth.
“Y/N! Long time no see!”
You’re immediately swept up into various groups of people wanting to “catch-up” (aka keep in your good graces for their next business venture).
Yup. A typical day.
Until Kang Byung-hun approaches you with that same condescending smile he gives you at every event. He’s a short, plump man, a little bit older in age than your father, and he’s a complete pain in your ass. The not-so-subtle jabs during formal dinners, gossiping behind your back, and overall misogynistic world-view makes you want to tear out your hair every time you see him.
“Mr.Kang!” You say in the cheeriest tone, smiling wide. He’s a pain, but he’s got a lot of influence, and you’d be an idiot to dismiss that.
“Ah Y/N. I see you’ve done yourself up for this event. On the lookout for a husband, are we?”
You keep your smile through gritted teeth.
“Just looking my best for the noble cause, sir.”
“I’m sure.”
The wait staff comes around with wine at just the right time, because god knows you can’t deal with this without at least some alcohol in you.
“Oh, I actually do have some business with you. Are you down to talk in private a bit later?”
“Why wait? Let’s talk now.” You’d rather just get it over with.
“It requires some preparation. Have to make a few calls and get some things here. I was going to put on a nice presentation in your office, but now’s a good as time as any!”
“Sounds good sir.”
What you wouldn’t give to just go home, take off these uncomfortable heels, and just face-plant on your soft bed right now. But nope, you have to wait around for this jack-ass to put on his little show. As much as he dismisses you, Kang Byung-hun is no idiot when it comes to business. Whatever his newest idea is, he knows Shin Investments is the best option for financing—especially in the bad state of the market right now.
So an hour before the party is supposed to end, you get a tap on your shoulder by Kang’s assistant, and promptly follow her to one of the spare rooms at the venue. Kang sits with a glass of champagne in hand, flashing a smile that you can’t stand. You take a seat across the circular table.
“We already exchanged pleasantries earlier, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I just got the patent for a new piece of revolutionary technology, and I’d like for Shin Investments to finance the project.”
“What type of technology are we talking?”
“How aware are you with the current market for hybrids, Y/N?”
You shrug nonchalantly. Honestly, the topic of hybrids makes you uncomfortable, as you think of it as unethical to own anything even remotely human, but you keep your personal preferences to yourself.
“I know it’s a booming industry, especially in the last three years. And I know the market is big for training tech right now.”
“Precisely!” He beams. “Training technology is in high demand. You saw how much of a hit the snake hybrid calming diffuser by Pet Armor was. Sold out in minutes! Not to mention raised the demand for snake hybrids in general. That’s when I knew I had to get in on the action and expand to the hybrid market.”
“So is that what it is? Is Pet Paradise launching its own diffuser? For a different type of hybrid?”
He shakes his head, “Nope. You know how I like to do things big, Y/N. A new hybrid diffuser is too small of a scale. What we’re creating will change the hybrid market forever.” He ends with a snap of his fingers, to which his assistant takes cue.
Before you can even process what’s going on, a leashed wolf hybrid is brought into the room.
Your attention immediately goes to the bulky metal collar around his neck, filled with buttons and stats.
“Meet Jungkook, one of the hybrids we’re beta-testing on. That magnificent thing around his neck is the Obedience Collar, and it’s going to blow your mind.”
You feel sick, dinner threatening to come up your throat the sight. The boy looks no older than twenty-one, and has more fear in his eyes than you thought possible. He’s trembling, eyes trained on the floor, trying to make himself small in the big room.
“Now, it’s no secret that wolf hybrids are amongst the hardest to train, that’s why they make the perfect subjects for this,” his assistant hands you an iPad as he talks, “first, I’d like for you to watch a video of Jungkook before he started wearing the Obedience Collar.”
You reluctantly click play, seeing the wolf hybrid with so much life in his eyes. Life and anger. He’s growling and punching his way through a team of researchers, thrashing around for his dear life.
“What a violent and unsophisticated creature he used to be!”
You have to consciously unclench your fists, making sure not to show your true feelings. It’s excruciating to sit there and listen when all you want to do is see how Kang would like it if a group of strangers got their hands on him like that.
“But now, with Pet Paradise’s newest invention, he’s the most timid little thing you could own!”
“A shock collar? Hybrid shock collars are already a thing, Mr.Kang.”
Your voice shakes slightly, and you hope no one notices.
“No no, that’s not what this is. A shock collar is a good training tool, of course, but it’s not the most efficient way to train a hybrid. If you swipe on that iPad, you’ll see the design of this collar is far advanced.”
So you hold your breath and swipe.
And whatever you’re expecting, it’s worse.
This isn’t a normal collar by any means, as proven by the product shots. The inside is lined with thin needles, which you can’t see as they are quite literally jammed into Jungkook’s neck right now.
Holy fuck.
“You see, Y/N, the Obedience Collar works from the inside. The collar is supplied with our newly developed synthetic hormones, which are injected into the bloodstream through the needles. The hormones are specifically structured to work with the DNA of most mammal hybrids, and can even make something as unruly as a wolf hybrid behave. The changes take effect within fifteen minutes of collaring! There’s a little hormone pack in the back of the collar,” he motions for Jungkook to turn around, and the boy obeys instantly, showing the rectangular box in the back of the collar, “those will need to be refilled every six months—which we’ll sell separately, so the business model is more than sustainable. Isn’t this a gold mine of an opportunity?”
Keep calm Y/N. Breathe. Compose yourself.
“Very impressive stuff,” you force out, “but I’m not sure Shin Investments is the right fit for this project. Wouldn’t you want a partner more familiar with the hybrid market?”
“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N. What kind of venture capitalist is afraid of diversifying their portfolio? You can’t survive this industry if you only play in familiar territory—your grandfather and father both know this very well. Besides, I heard a rumor that the deal with Jun’s son won’t be going through. I’m sure the board members are having low morale right now…so why not appease them with an even better deal?”
You can’t stand the way he chastises you. What you can’t stand even more is that, from a business perspective, he’s making sense. You know a lucrative business when you see one, and this is definitely one of those. And as unintuitive as it seems, it’s all legal. Hybrid abuse isn’t really a thing the government concerns itself with, which is why the only real law is not to intentionally kill one, and even that is enforced loosely. There’s no rules being broken, no shady deals, just a proposal as legal as the meeting you had two days ago where a start-up pitched their new smart fridge. Except this time it’s not a smart fridge you’re discussing, it’s the life of a very scared and no doubt in pain hybrid, that’s standing less than five feet away from you.
Kang sees the gears in your head turning as you find any way to refuse this deal for a rational reason. So he starts playing his game of mind-chess once again, a game he’d mastered since before you were even born.
“Look, I’ll be frank with you. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even consider bringing this deal to you. Because we both know most women tend to be too emotional to do good business. But you’re not like that—hell, you’ve got more backbone than half the men at this party. So, what’s stopping you?”
There it was. The emotional card. The thing you were most concerned about, how showing even one ounce of emotion could be blown out of proportion because of your gender. You’ve worked too damn hard to create your reputation, and that’s why the next words out of your mouth spill before you can even think about it.
“You’re right, I was being too cautious. Let’s start with the proper procedures during work hours.”
Shit. He got you. Checkmate.
The man’s face erupts in the sleaziest grin possible.
“Perfect! You won’t regret this, it’s going to be big! In fact, I have one more surprise for you!”
You raise your brows, not needing anymore fucking surprises tonight.
“It’s Jungkook! He’s yours for the month!”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that statement.
“Excuse me?!”
“It’s a token of our appreciation. You get to be the first ever person to own a hybrid with an Obedience Collar! You can see first-hand how remarkable the technology is. There’s five others from his pack that we can continue our tinkering on, so one less won’t hurt us. Don’t worry, the synthetic hormone part is fully developed, we’re just trying to make the collar look sleeker.”
It’s not uncommon nor unethical for you to be gifted prototypes. Businesses love giving you a taste of what you’re putting your money into, as a way to give you confidence in the product and maybe even open up possibilities for a bigger investment. But you’d never thought someone would give you a fucking hybrid.
You almost open your mouth to decline, saying something along the lines of not wanting the responsibility of a hybrid…but then something comes over you. You realize that declining means sending Jungkook back to the lab—and you just can’t bring yourself to do that. The damage you’re going to be doing by investing in this collar is going to be devastating as it is, no doubt making you the indirect torturer of many hybrids to come, but in some twisted sense of morality—you want to at least save the one in front of your eyes. Maybe even pretend that you have some good left in you.
“Thank you. I’d love to take him.”
___
The car ride back is silent and tense. Jungkook hasn’t said a single word, much less lifted his head to even look at you. He’s still trembling in the passenger seat. You have zero clue how to approach the situation. It’s not like you can take off the collar, as it’s a prototype with data still being transferred to the lab. You agreed to take him home to give him a better life, but you haven’t exactly thought far enough ahead as to how; judging by how scared he is right now, you know this isn’t going to be easy.
It's midnight when you reach home, and all you want to do is sleep. But you can’t yet, not until Jungkook is settled in. You lead him to a spare bedroom; it’s incredibly spacious and practically decorated for royalty, with a king-sized bed right in the center.
“This is where you’ll be staying.”
You see his head lift up for the first time, doe eyes scanning the room in disbelief.
“It’s late so we’ll talk more tomorrow, but for now sleep here. I don’t have nightclothes for you yet, so just sleep in what you’re wearing for the night. There are water bottles on the nightstand if you get thirsty. Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”
He adamantly shakes his head no, prompting you to exit. However, right as you’re about to walk out the door, you hear rumbling. More specifically, his stomach is rumbling. You turn back around.
“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
No response.
“If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.”
Those words seem to turn some gears in his head, as he utters his first words of the night.
“I’m hungry Miss.”
It catches you off guard how quickly he gets the words out, much different from the no-speaking rule he had enacted on himself up until now.
That’s when the realization hits you.
If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.
It sounds like a command, and that damn Obedience Collar is sure to make him comply.
You let out a defeated sigh before guiding him to the kitchen. Your cook has already called it a day, so you prepare one of the few things your tired brain can handle—frozen waffles. You toss them into a toaster, drizzle some syrup, and pile on a generous amount of whipped cream before pushing a plate in front of the awestruck boy.
“Eat up.”
With the eagerness in which he digs into the plate, you’re sure he’d be the same way without the direct command.
And that’s how your first night with Jungkook goes, with you making sure he’s fed and in his bed before heading to your own. You notice he’s trembling a little less. Baby steps.
____
A/N: If you're liking this fic, please let me know! I love and appreciate every interaction!
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curtwilde · 30 days
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Taliban has announced that women in Afghanistan will be stoned to death in public for adultery.
The Afghan Taliban’s supreme leader, Mullah Hibatullah Akhundzada, has issued a disturbing proclamation, vowing to implement brutal punishments against women in public. In a chilling voice message broadcasted on state television, Akhundzada directly addressed Western officials, dismissing concerns about violating women’s rights by stoning them to death.
"You say it’s a violation of women’s rights when we stone them to death," Akhundzada stated. "But we will soon implement the punishment for adultery. We will flog women in public. We will stone them to death in public," he declared, marking his most severe rhetoric since the Taliban seized control of Kabul in August 2021.
These grim statements, purportedly from Akhundzada, who has seldom been seen in public except for a few outdated portraits, emanate from Afghanistan’s state TV, now under Taliban control. Akhundzada is believed to be located in southern Kandahar, the Taliban's stronghold. Despite early assurances of a more moderate regime, the Taliban swiftly reverted to harsh public penalties reminiscent of their previous rule in the late 1990s, including public executions and floggings. The United Nations has vehemently criticised these actions, urging the Taliban to cease such practices.
In his message, Akhundzada asserted that the women's rights advocated by the international community contradicted the Taliban’s strict interpretation of Islamic Sharia law. Akhundzada emphasised resilience among Taliban fighters, urging them to oppose women's rights persistently. "I told the Mujahedin that we tell the Westerners that we fought against you for 20 years and we will fight 20 and even more years against you," he stated.
His remarks have sparked outrage among Afghans, with many calling for increased international pressure on the Taliban.
"The money that they receive from the international community as humanitarian aid is just feeding them against women," lamented Tala, a former civil servant from Kabul.
"As a woman, I don’t feel safe and secure in Afghanistan. Each morning starts with a barrage of notices and orders imposing restrictions and stringent rules on women, stripping away even the smallest joys and extinguishing hope for a brighter future," she added.
"We, the women, are living in prison," Tala emphasised, "And the Taliban are making it smaller for us every passing day."
Taliban authorities have also barred 330,000 girls from returning to secondary school for the third consecutive year. University doors were closed to women in December 2022 and participation in the workforce is heavily restricted.
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yoru-no-seiiki · 10 months
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YANDERE! MASOCHISTIC! PROTAGONIST x VILLAIN! READER x YANDERE! SERVANT
tw/cw: everyone’s gender is up to interpretation (if there are any discrepancies in the pronouns let me know). murder. this happens around the middle of the first part not after it, just in a different perspective.
[ first part ]
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!
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It was bit of an understatement to call Abbadon your servant. They were your most loyal aide. Known as the harbinger of death to those that defied your rule. The Abyssal Advisor. It was through their work that you were able to grab ahold of your destiny.
They tortured, maimed and murdered for you. Countless of lives were destroyed by their hands. People with names, families, dreams — all gone because they simply failed to meet your expectations. They have conquered massive plots of lands and achieved many things that will never be put under their own name, but yours. They were with you every, single step of the way.
But you never gave them more than an ounce of your attention.
Many thought you were bloodthirsty, feral and an absolute nightmare. But to Abbadon you were anything but. You were simply a victim to the times. A soul bound for hell. Your ambitions were righteous in a way, but in execution not.
They did not care about that at all.
It was the way you’d annoyingly fixate on the person meant to kill you.
Did you not trust them?
Sure, every person that attempted to battle fate’s design failed abysmally but they were different. From the very beginning Abbadon was born, molded, put through fire and oil to be your perfect right hand man. Every order you’ve given was executed perfectly. Every task they have completed exceeded your expectations with its results.
So why wouldn’t you let them take care of Cassiel?
That annoying brat never seemed to die. Abaddon only saw them as a cockroach at most. A kid who had no right to share the luxuries you were afforded. Yet, they were never allowed to harm your sibling in any way.
And so they could only shove more tasks for you to do, distract you from what they saw as increasing affections towards your sibling and force you to leave Cassiel be.
But when they finally got the chance to kill the roach, you stood between them.
“Abbadon. Stand down.” You warned. They had flooded you with paperwork that day. Too much paperwork. You should have known it was due to ulterior motives. Trust slowly become something you could never afford.
“But—“ They protested. They were an inch away from beheading their target — Cassiel, who was now on their knees right behind you. They did not mind the dagger you had inches within their shoulder blade. But your eyes, Abbadon knew that look. It was the look of utter disappointment. They could not bear to see it any longer. “Understood.”
You sighed as your loyal servant tried their best to hide their anger, yet storming off the moment you dismissed them.
You knew how much that devil loathed failure above all else and who were you to make them go through that?
Cassiel sighed, maybe even moaned, in awe and ecstasy as they witnessed you defending them for once and asserting your dominance to your subordinate.
Oh, how they wished they were Abbadon.
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©️ yoru.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
taglist: @the-dumber-scaramouche @justkouisenough @rxflen
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lucrativesoul · 10 months
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The Assistant
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summary: you have been promoted within the police headquarters, and your new position is the assistant of none other than Leon S. Kennedy. the ever alluring man has you weak in the knees.
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
word count: 9.9k
warnings: smut, boss x employee, very brief mention of smoking, very vague drug mention.
a/n: yay i'm posting it :3 using this photo cause i couldn't stop thinking of noir leon while writing this (brainrot) i didn't originally intend for this to be so long but here we are... this was different than what i'm used to writing but it was so much fun! already in the process of a second fic! enjoy yall
“So… I’m not fired?” 
Standing in front of your boss’ desk, you were genuinely surprised by the words out of her mouth. For some reason, for the last few weeks, you had a hunch that you were about to get sacked. The office had been slowly getting emptied out, of boxes full of documents, of equipment, hell, even of people, and you were positive you were next. 
She had just called out into her office, a mere twenty steps away from your desk where you worked, or used to work, now, in the dingy yellow room with foggy windows and no working AC. You took a deep breath, thinking this was it, getting ready to add this to the list of ‘Previous Employment’ on your resume, when all she had simply told you was that you were going upstairs.
She laughed curtly. “No, you aren’t. They need you upstairs. You’ll be better off up there.”
You slowly nodded your head, trying to keep most of the confusion off of your face. “So, sorry to ask, but, what about down here?”
You had been here for just shy of a year at this point, and they placed you in one of the ground floor offices of the five story buildings sorting out random court documents, for whatever reason, they were always needed for something incomprehensible. You didn’t question it, you just did it, because you got paid to. Yes, the fluorescents gave you occasional migraines and stepping into the fresh air at the end of the day made you feel reborn, but it was just busy work, and there were much worse jobs to do.
“They’re cleaning us out. We’re all still here, just… relocated.” You nodded, at least relieved to know that your old deskmates weren’t ruthlessly fired. She handed a manila folder over to you, and when you flipped it open, there was only one piece of paper inside. You’ve learned to not be surprised by confusing things such as this. “Mr. Anderson of the top floor has recently been relieved of his position.” Ouch, you thought. Poor soul. “His position had been freed and with no new applicants, they were looking inward. I appreciate your work here and your employment history shows some experience in the assistance department, so I suggested you as a candidate. They want you up there.” 
Your stomach sank, and your best friend’s voice rang out through your head. “You can’t lie about past employment, idiot! They can check!” Well, you held back a sigh, they definitely didn’t check.
“Wow, I… Thank you. But, sorry. That I’m leaving.”
She merely shook her head. “Still here. This office will be gone soon enough. Between us, I’ve been praying for this day.” With that, she dismissed you, and after swiping the few personal items off your desk and into your bag, you headed home.
This single paper had stumped you all night. You sat at your table after eating (barely, you were too nervous about starting a basically new job the next day), and decided to review the content of it before retiring for the night. It was quite simple: it listed the job description, ‘Executive Assistant’, it listed the location, ‘5F, 505’, and your new boss’ name, ‘Leon S. Kennedy, Exec. Agent’.
You had honestly not heard this name before. You should know everyone who works there, considering the nature of the police headquarters, but you were often forgotten down in the basement, no one too important worked down there, besides your boss, or old boss now, who had connections to all other departments. Everyone got there before you and left after you. Could be at the same time, but you often tuned it out, needing the sweet release of your home. You wondered why she volunteered you up for this. Maybe she was sympathetic about the setting you had to work in for someone your age.
You went to bed after deciding there was no hidden detail in the few lines of script on the sheet. You would just have to wait and see.
Figuring the gray dress pants and white, long sleeve mock neck that you threw on this morning were good enough, you left the house early enough to prepare by buying a coffee. Being stuffed into the basement had its perks, eventually everyone had caught on to the idea that they just needed you guys down there to do what they didn’t want upstairs, and you and your coworkers had found the thin cracks in which you could push the dress code a little. No, leggings weren’t permitted, but they were on the days your slacks were dirty and when you put a dress shirt and sweater on over it. You were sure your boss noticed, but said nothing anyway. Clearly, it didn't put a dent in what she thought of you.
You had to at least try today though, as you had no idea what it would be like to work on the top floor. You had no idea what kind of a person Agent Kennedy was, and you weren’t going to chance anything on the first day. You had played it safe when you first started here and it paid off, so fingers crossed it could pay off again.
After a few deep breaths, you popped the door open and headed into the building. Usually, you could park in the back and take the lower level entrance, which was essentially the one and only way into the basement that wasn’t from the service elevator, but you went in through the front today. You ignored the tightening of your stomach and climbed the stairs. 
“Can I help you?” A man stood from the front desk at your arrival. You started reaching for the ID card you carried on a lanyard, stuffed into your pocket.
“Yes, I work here.” He reached out for your ID, not believing your truth.
He raised an eyebrow. “The basement entrance is in the back of the building.” He handed it back and went to sit down.
“Yes, I know, I was moved. I’m going upstairs.” You handed him the manila folder before he could ignore you further. He raised an eyebrow again after looking at the small paper.
“Alright, Anderson’s replacement. Fifth floor, to the right.” He motioned to his left to the elevator, and only then did you let him sit back down. 
You took the walk to the elevator as a chance to survey the room. You hadn’t been over here very often. You made a few trips up here a few months ago, but you didn’t look around much, only headed to the confidential files room to move information. The floor was a sleek black tile, shiny as ever, and the room was lit well due to the large windows at the front of the building. It didn't look like a headquarters building. You told yourself it wasn’t to calm your nerves.
Swallowing the last of the anxiety, you stepped out onto the fifth floor. It was simply a hallway, all black, but the windows at the end made the space seem larger, and not so dark. To the right, you remember the man telling you. Your footsteps were reverberating off of the walls, matched with the pounding of your blood flow in your ears.
The corridor opened up to a wider room, inhabited by a handful of other people. One of them spotted your arrival, and walked over.
“Good morning, I’m–”
“Yes, right over here. Glad to see you.” You were taken aback for a moment, They already know me? You thought, as you followed the young man to a large desk on the left side of the wall, facing inward to the foyer. You were sitting in front of floor to ceiling windows, across the room was the same setup with a few smaller desks, people scuttling back and forth on their own side. You turned back to thank the man, when your heart fluttered in relief.
“Thank you,-- Oh, my gosh, Brett, you work up here now?” Brett was an old deskmate that had left the small office three months ago. You didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but the last day that you saw him you remember eating lunch on his desk with another coworker who sat in front of you two. You were saddened by his loss, but now absolutely relieved to have a familiar face.
“I know, right? They said you were coming. I’m glad you got out next. It’s better up here.” He let you put your stuff down and get settled, before telling you what your next moves should be. “He’s in a meeting right now, but he wanted to meet you once you got here. Don’t be nervous, but brace yourself. He’s serious. Mostly. I’ve seen him smile once, but he’s nice to the rest of us. Hopefully more to you.”
After a few more minutes of small talk, he left you on your own, and you passed the time getting used to the surroundings while waiting for your new boss to be out of his meeting. Early for a meeting, you thought, but then again, it didn’t take a whole team for one person to make a conference call. 
There was a momentary beep sound that came from Brett’s desk, and he picked up the phone. He said one thing into it before hanging up. He turned to you. “He’s ready.”
The nerves came back, but at the comforting thought that there was at least one person you knew out here, you tried your best to look forward to just sitting back down at your desk.
You were about to knock, but figured otherwise since he had directly asked for your presence. You walked up to the large double doors, and pulled them open.
His back was to you when you closed the door behind you. Walking closer, you stopped a few paces away, observing him for a brief second. He had a white dress shirt on and a gray vest. He looked quite large from where you stood, and you were sure that he was at least 6 feet tall, probably taller. He was messing with some papers on his desk, and you took a quick breath before speaking.
“Good morning, sir.” You stood tall, shoulders back, hands clasped behind yourself. Don’t cross your arms in front of you, you recall trying to retrain your habits, you look insecure. He turned around.
You swallowed hard. Jesus Christ, there were no tips on that blog on what to do when your boss is straight out of People Magazine’s sexiest men alive. His ash blonde hair was pushed back off of his forehead, showcasing his sturdy bone structure, a deep, furrowed brow that lacked any wrinkles, and high cheekbones with a sharp jawline. Straight nose, strong chin, and shoulders the size of, well, you. Maintaining eye contact was a challenge. 
You saw him give you a quick once over, all the way down and back up your body again, so brief like it never happened at all. You were itching to pull your arms back in front of yourself.
“Good morning.” He took one step closer to you, held out his hand, and you gingerly took it. His hand was rough, yet the handshake was gentle. “Agent Leon Kennedy.” He lowered his hand and put it in his pocket. His other hand was holding a file. “I hope once you are comfortable here we will work well together.”
You gave a tight smile, forcing your face to make it look natural. You were sure it didn’t. “I look forward to working with you.” Your voice was a lot breathier than intended. 
The corner of his mouth twitched in a hidden smirk. Leon could definitely tell you were nervous. It was a big part of his job, after all. He handed the file over to you. “Just run these for a while. Find me when you finish them.” You took the folder. He stood there momentarily, watching you. “You can relax a little. I’m not going to kill you.” He stalked back over to his desk and sat down, attention still on you. 
You mumbled while flipping through the file. Attempting to lighten the mood, “I would, but smoking is not allowed in the building.”
“That will kill you, you know.” His voice was light. He took the joke well.
You closed it and looked back up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Would you prefer if I drank myself stupid, then?” He said nothing, and just smiled at you. Yours grew wider. “I’ll see you soon with this, sir.” You turned and left.
The day passed with ease. It was no difficult task to focus, now that the nerves were buried and you knew what it was that you had to be doing. Lunch with the others came and went, and it took you a fair chunk of your day to run the files he handed over. It was similar to what they had you doing in the basement, but the addition of sunlight unobstructed by dirty windows made it seem like a fun job.
You had attempted humor with Leon within the first few minutes of meeting him. You probably shouldn’t have, but no one in your life could force you to give up making jokes in serious situations. That’s just how you operated. Leon didn’t seem to care. He actually smiled. Brett had told you he rarely does that, and you made him after only a minute. It honestly had your heart racing all day.
With only an hour left in the day, you packed up the papers Leon had given you along with some new printed ones. You knocked on the door this time, and opened it when he beckoned you in.
“Sorry it took me so long. Little more labor intensive than I’m used to.” He took the file you were handing over, and put it on his desk without looking inside. He was sitting turned toward the computer on his desk, and though he told you to come in, you hoped you weren’t interrupting anything. 
“Thank you. No more of that librarian sorting you were all doing down there.” So, he knows. It was no secret you were sure, but you were still surprised that he knew you worked in the building at all. Leon turned his attention back to his desk for a moment, and you stood there, head tilted slightly to view what he was looking at. He turned back to you, and your head snapped up to make eye contact. “I have nothing else for you right now. Boring day for you to start. You can go home. Tomorrow, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have you review some portfolios and slides I have, so you can become familiar with the content. I have some meetings coming up later in the week, or next, there's a good chance you’ll be coming with me.” he swiveled himself around and grabbed a stack of papers sitting on top of a file cabinet, held together with a paperclip. “Just put this on your desk for now, for the morning.” It was something along the lines of criminal justice and related business strategies. This would be a doozy.
“Of course, sir. As you wish.” You took a step back to leave. “Thanks for the early day.” You sent a halfhearted smile his way. He didn’t reflect it, but his eyes were soft.
After a few seconds of holding your stare, he said, “Already better than Anderson. I like you.”
Your stomach tightened, and you had to force yourself to breathe normally. “I hope I can continue to please, then.” You felt his stare hot on your back as you left, but you remained composed. Once, and only once, the doors were shut, you shakily exhaled, and quickly packed up to leave.
The week went by with a pace you were never used to with your job. You found yourself excited to come to work, excited to see Leon. If you had known you worked in the same building this whole time, you would have been begging your old boss to get moved.
It was a rather tame week, and you weren't sure if it was because there was no work, or this is just what the workload was always like here. It was now Friday, you sat at your desk going through a database page for the assignment you had to review before the meeting Leon had said you were attending. It definitely made you nervous, this was past your parameters and you hadn’t had any sort of experience with something this serious. At least, that’s what you thought it would be. You needed to be prepared for that so you didn’t look incompetent for this job that you only just got. 
Resting your chin on your hand with the other slowly scrolling through the page with the mouse, you cocked your head and looked up when Leon suddenly appeared in front of you. You shot a smile at him.
“Were you in a meeting?” He stood so tall from this angle with you sitting down, and your neck almost hurt looking up at him. 
“Yeah, light work though.” He held onto a file with his left hand. The right was in his pocket. He turned briefly to look behind him at the others who worked in the small lobby. “So, about that meeting next week,” you nodded, shifting your posture now. “It’s Monday morning. I just need you to be there to help with any outside communications like other appointments since it might be a while. I sent this to you–” He motioned to your computer, which was the PDF you had been reading from his email. “In case something happened to mine for whatever reason. God forbid...” He mumbled, partially rolling his eyes. You chuckled. “Good for you to know it though.”
“I figured. This is also light work.” You cocked a smile, and he repeated the action. “As long as I’m not being expected to execute the whole presentation, I think I can serve well to take calls for you.”
A quiet laugh rumbled out from him. “That’s all I need you for. It’s not here,” He leaned onto your desk with one arm, and you had to desperately peel your eyes away from the way his veins flexed in his forearm. The image was already burned into your brain. “It’s in the branch a couple cities over, so… If you would like to meet me somewhere over here,” You tried to swallow at the implication, but your throat was suddenly so dry. “You know, to make it easier.”
You drew in a breath. “Of course,” You put your hands into your lap so he wouldn't see you nervously wringing your fingers together. “How did you know about my minor driving anxiety?” You playfully quirked an eyebrow at him. 
He smiled. “Intuition. Or my job training.” He stood up straight now. You found yourself wishing he wouldn't leave. “You can leave at three with the rest of them today. I’ll see you on Monday.” You only released the breath you were holding when he was safely behind the confines of his office doors.
The weekend allowed a little relaxing, but mostly anxiety the close it came to Monday. You were finding it increasingly difficult to stop thinking about Leon. This whole week felt like a dream. Your body felt hot anytime you were alone in his office, or anytime he merely stopped at your desk to drop something off. You felt so small next to him, and almost struggled to form coherent thoughts when you had to speak to him. Your eyes thoroughly raked his body up and down when he was turned, his broad expanse of back and shoulders nearly turned your brain to slush. He always smelled like crisp cologne, something expensive, it had to be. 
You found yourself thinking too often about the way he looked at you. It was a stare that wasn't something you were used to receiving on a daily basis. There was something else… His gaze was dark and luring. Like he knew what you were thinking. Like when you two made eye contact, he knew he was the object of your fantasy. 
Which, yes, it had only been a week, but you had to admit, you had never seen anyone this attractive before. And here you were, working for him. It only made your skin heat up more at the knowledge that it was forbidden. It heightened the experience every time you had to see him. That was your boss, and he sure did have that power over you. The conversations you had with him bordered on strictly work, but you were dying to see another side of him. The smirk he gave you when you made him laugh had your stomach twisting in a way that lasted long after the interaction was over. Every time you said something that gave him that reaction, you needed to make it happen again. It felt like a new addiction that developed way too fast. You wondered if he could tell. You at least tried to be subtle about it. 
A shiver raked through your body as you stood outside of your car early that Monday morning. It wasn’t that cold, but you didn't think the weather was the reason you were shivering. You had arrived at headquarters to meet with Leon, as he offered to take you over to another city's department for his meeting. The aforementioned shiver happened immediately after turning and seeing Leon in the same outfit as you saw when you first met him.
His button down shirt strained on his biceps when he moved, and the gray vest sat perfectly on his waist, making you realize exactly how his frame would look underneath his clothes. You had to push this aside as he motioned you to come over to his car.
It was a sleek black sedan, which made sense for who he was. You felt shielded from the world as you closed the door, the tint locking you in next to your boss, who was insanely close to you, and you feared could hear your frantic heartbeat. 
He placed a few files on your lap and you let them sit there for the time being. “I was going to get you coffee, but I didn't know how you would take it.”
You held back a smile at the thought of Leon thinking of you this morning. “It’s okay, but thanks. I already had some.” You saw Leon nod out of your peripheral, and you could only look forward, knowing you might stare if you turned your head. 
“But you take…” Leon prompted. He’s curious anyway? Is he expecting to do it in the future? You could have exploded. 
After rattling off the basics of what you drink, he replied, “Sounds very sweet.” You laughed and nodded. “I don't know about all that. Maybe I’ll try it out.”
“You don’t strike me as the type to be into sweet things.” You risked a look over, and when you did, he mirrored the action with a grin on his face.
“You’d be surprised.”
Thankfully, you were very relieved at the end of the day when the meeting went by with minimal interaction on your part. You were introduced to some of the other important players in the legal game that knew Leon, and sat off to the side with one of the files he handed you. Despite most of the information going over your head, you still paid attention, at least to make Leon look good and show that you were a competent assistant. 
The sun was close to setting by the time you filed back out into the lot, trailing right behind Leon. Slipping into his passenger’s seat, he followed a second after, and you felt your body physically relax knowing the stressor of the week was now defeated.
“Not so bad, right?” He spoke without looking over, shifting gear and taking off.
“Are they always this long? Maybe I should plan ahead and bring multiple drinks with me.” 
He chuckled. “Only sometimes. This one was important, that’s why. They usually aren’t outside the city either so… consider this an introduction to the team.”
You rolled your eyes and looked over. “Do you keep forgetting that I already worked here before this?” You heard the smile through your own voice, and saw one creep on his face as he kept his eyes on the road. Your heart felt light. 
“No, absolutely not. The pace you work at is evident enough of that. It’s just a different type of job, I’m sure. I don’t really know what goes on down there.”
With the smile still on your face, you let your eyes linger on him for a moment more. His hair, which was pushed on top of his head, was starting to fall, and a strand fell onto his forehead. The past week, he had worn it down a couple of times, and you honestly didn't know which one you preferred.
You rolled your head over to the side, watching the passing cars go by. The radio was on, but at the lowest volume, merely for ambiance. Your hand brushed over the files on your lap, that you had taken back from Leon upon leaving so he could shake hands with whoever he needed to, and pried open one of them.
Before your eyes could even properly latch onto any words, Leon’s hand reached over and gently pushed the top of the file closed, and you looked over at him.
“That’s confidential, you know.” He looked over at you for a brief second, but you could see he wasn’t mad. 
“Sorry. I was just sitting through that whole thing, though, in case you forgot.” You looked back down at your lap and noticed Leon’s hand was still on the file, the weight of it heavy on your thighs.
“No, I didn’t forget. I don’t know how much of it was digestible to you.” He barely lifted his hand off of the file folder, pulling it sideways, landing it on your thigh for a second. His hand was big enough to wrap around the side, and a split second later, he dragged it off, and your skin burned with the track it traced. Breathing became hard suddenly, and you had to turn your head to the window and focus on the outside world.
You arrived back at headquarters thirty minutes later, and the fresh air felt incredible on your flushed skin. It wasn’t even that warm in the car, but you couldn't stop thinking about the way Leon’s hand felt on your thigh. It was like he never lifted his hand at all, you could still feel the contact lingering, the way his fingers grazed your leg, the immediate warmth you felt, not only on your thigh, but in your stomach. You wished you could have taken your jacket off in the car.
Before you could get any words out, Leon said, “Come up to the office for a second. I left something up there.”
You said nothing, simply followed him up. The parking lot was nearly deserted, save for the few officers doing a detail whom you greeted when the both of you walked in. You fiddled with the edges of the files you were still holding, not trying to look in any of them in case Leon were to reprimand you for it again. You were almost tempted to, just to see his reaction. That thought made your knees weak.
You followed him out of the elevator into the office. As expected, the lobby was empty. Leon made his way over to his desk, pulling open a file cabinet, and started sifting around. You stood there, then walked over and dropped what you were holding onto his desk. You looked around the office, it was as wide as the lobby was, and large windows spanned the walls. It was simplistic. His desk was in the middle, file cabinets behind him, multiple monitors, a few chairs in front of his desk, some  round black ottomans in front of a black leather couch to the left. There were more files open on top of one of the ottomans. 
You stalked over to it, leaned down and picked one up. It looked like what he had given you the other day–
“You must be a glutton for punishment.” You jumped slightly when Leon spoke from directly behind you and grabbed the file from your hands. You spun around. “You shouldn’t be rifling through random documents, you know.” 
You sighed, not wanting to make eye contact, but knowing not doing it would look bad. You kept your arms to your side despite wanting to cross them. His eyes were dark. You couldn't tell what type of reaction this was.
“I’m sorry. I’ll make a severe mental note of that.” He said nothing in return, simply looking down at you. The peaks of his bone structure highlighted by the distant street lamps and the glow of the moon outside the windows. It made the shadows look all that much darker. You felt a shiver crawl up your spine.
He hummed, a low, throaty sound. “My new assistant, just so nosy.” His voice was low, and you gulped, trying to blink through your emotions normally, but you knew it looked anything but. 
“Dare I say it’s in my job description.” You mirrored his low tone, mentally relieved it wasn’t as weary as you expected it to sound. You tilted your head up to his, as a small gesture of challenge.
He nodded his head, as if to consider your words. “Dare you do.” He backed up, placed the file on his desk, then came right back to his spot in front of you. You didn’t know what to do, so you stayed still. It was most likely the better option anyway, who knows if your limbs could even move properly right now. You felt bare in this position, your cotton top feeling too warm where it overlapped with your jacket, and though your legs were on display under your skirt, they, too, were burning up. Your heart was hammering, but Leon kept talking. “What do you think about this job so far, hm? Does it live up to expectations?”
You had to take a steady breath before answering. “I think this surpasses any expectation I could have ever set.”
“Good answer.” You maintained eye contact with the man in front of you, surprising yourself with how well you were holding it. He seemed unfazed at all. He was probably reading you like a book right now. “You know, I love having new recruits start here. They’re so unaware of their surroundings. It almost makes a fun game for myself. They think they are so secretive, but after a while I can tell whatever it is they don't want anyone else to know.” You felt your breath catch in your throat. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. “I know Breanna across the lobby from you doesn’t like her desk mate despite buying her coffee three times a week.” Checks out, I can tell, too. “I know Brett does things to stay awake during his shifts that he shouldn’t be doing within a 50 foot radius of a cop.” Ouch. That’s also true, but he only told me during a hard come down. “And, I know how nervous you are to be around me, and you don’t know what to do with yourself whenever I’m in the room.”
You made no moves now. How did he know? Surely you weren’t that obvious with it. It had been one week, and yes Leon called you into his office quite a bit during those five days, but he had work to hand off to you every time. It’s not like he was doing it on purpose. 
But now, standing under his hard gaze, nowhere to go, you weren’t so sure it was accidental. 
Your jaw tightened. “How can you be so sure?” Now, you could hear the waviness in your voice. A smirk blossomed on his handsome face. 
“I can see how you look at me. Usually these things take time to figure out, but you…” He took a step closer, and you took a half step back. It’s not like you didn’t want to be close to him, but now he was donning a persona that made you shrink into yourself. You knew you liked it by the heat spreading inside. “You, dear, are like looking through a window.”
“So… you tested it out earlier?” It felt like a pathetic question, but you needed an answer for why he put his hand on your thigh earlier. Compared to this current position, that seemed so tame.
He tilted his head slightly. “I’m pretty sure I was, but… I had to make sure I was gauging the situation correctly.” He looked you up and down, your hands had made their way to clasp behind your back, still fighting the habit to cross them across your chest. Your breathing felt erratic. “I would have left it there, but I couldn’t make too much of a scene. Not yet.”
You simply stared at each other. You could tell that he knew he had the upper hand, solely because he was correct. Everything he was saying was right. Damn that detective training, nothing was getting past him. The room was sweltering now, but maybe you were the only one that felt it. 
One last burst of confidence had you muttering, “You do this to all your new assistants?”
In one swift action, he had a hand over your waist and pulled you close to him. Bodies touching, heat feeling like a fire between you, he lowered his face so it was centimeters away from yours. The glisten of his eyes were the only thing you could see, and if you weren’t running on pure adrenaline right now, you probably would have collapsed. You felt the vibrations from his chest when he spoke.
“Only the ones I intend to hang on to. And I can’t say I’ve had multiple of those.” You gulped, and when you didn't reply, he continued, “Did I gauge the situation correctly?”
“Yes,” You whispered, and his mouth was on yours. 
His kiss was intense, and you felt now like your body might give out. Your hands found their way to make contact with him, one grasping the wrist that was holding your waist and the other to the side of Leon’s face, and you felt his other hand close in on your hips.
It was like nothing you had experienced before. The kiss was hot and messy, you let his tongue in easily, and you couldn't help the small sighs that escaped whenever he leaned in to deepen the exchange. You felt his nose press into your face, your foreheads pushed together and your bodies entirely too close you felt like one entity. The hand that was caressing his face snaked to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and your knees finally buckled when he gave a low growl in response to you tugging his locks. 
The kiss broke for a second as you lost balance, but he was not thrown off course. Hands still grasping your body, he found the couch that you were only a step in front of, and he lowered you on it, still connecting your lips together fiercely. Both of your hands now in his hair as your back hit the cushions, and you felt the dips next to you where he was kneeling over you. One of his hands let go of you and supported himself next to your head, but you craved the contact again.
He took your chin in his thumb and index finger and tilted your head slightly to the right, and broke the kiss, but his lips stayed on your burning skin as they traced down your jaw bone, biting into the flesh, and his tongue marked a path down your neck, and it was insanely hard to breathe. 
One of your hands found solace on his thick shoulder while he was still making work of the soft skin on your neck. The hand of his that wasn't on your chin still traced its way from your hip up to your chest, and he squeezed one of your breasts in sync with a bite to the neck. Your head pressed harder into the couch underneath you.
“Leon, please…” You gasped out, unsure if you even said it out loud, surprised you even had the energy to speak. You felt him lift his lips off of your skin a second later and his fingers moved your chin again to make you face him.
“What is it, hm? What do you need?” He dipped down to kiss you again, and you wished he would have stayed there so you wouldn't need to verbally answer him. 
“I… I don’t…” I don’t know, I need you. You barely had the breath to speak anymore, and though you knew Leon knew exactly what you were trying to say, he feigned confusion, and looked at you from under his furrowed brow. It was so obnoxious, it ignited the flame inside you even more. 
“Come on, baby, I can’t hear you.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and your vision went blurry with lust. You ground your jaw and swallowed your pride. 
“I need you.” You gasped out finally, your lungs deflating. Your hand was fisting the material over his shoulder, and you noticed through your haze that he wasn’t wearing the vest anymore. When did he take it off? Before you came up to the office? While you had your back turned? It didn’t matter, it was now one less thing you needed to rip off of him. 
“Is that so?” He went back to biting at your neck, and at this rate you didn’t care what state he was going to leave it in. You whined at his lack of response to your plea, feeling frustration and desire bounding up inside of you, needing an outlet to release it.
“Leon, fuck, please…” You weakly tried to push him back but he wouldn’t budge. He reconnected your lips again, and that you greatly accepted, pulling him closer now so he would continue kissing you with fervor. The hand that was on your chin finally left, and he replaced it on your wrist, and suddenly, he was hauling you up.
He pulled back from the kiss just as quickly as he was pulling you to sit upright, and he swiftly maneuvered you so that when he fell backwards to sit on the couch, you were pulled right on top of him, straddling his thick thighs. You couldn’t even imagine how you looked right now, it was out of your mind for now as you looked down at the man under you, his hands on your waist. His shirt was wrinkled and slowly being pulled out from where it was tucked into his pants. His tie was being loosened and the top two buttons had come undone, exposing the smooth expanse of skin over his collarbones and chest. As you let your weight settle onto your legs, and his, you lowered directly onto his growing erection, and he squeezed his hands over your torso and scrunched his face. With a heavy breath, he pulled his head forward and stared at you.
“Did you think I was just going to give it to you?” His voice was gravelly, and it almost made you whimper. His hands dropped to your thighs, which were now incredibly exposed due to the position of your skirt hiking up, and Leon probably had a view of the black panties you had on. You didn’t care. Let him see. You needed him to take them off.
You shook your head. “You can’t be nice to me?” Your hands came up to his chest, it was firm and sturdy, and you were dying to see it bare. You fumbled with the buttons, and Leon had been at least gracious enough to loosen the tie and throw it over his head onto the floor. 
Leon laughed. You felt it under your palms. “Darling,” You looked up to make eye contact with him at the mention of the pet name. “This is me being nice to you.” 
You barely had time to register his words, and the way it made your stomach turn before he had a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you forward to another intense kiss. You could barely breathe, your limbs were all pins and needles and your skin was alight with a burning ember, fueled only by Leon, but you loved it.
In the midst of the kiss, wet and slick and tongue heavy, your hands were needlessly prying the buttons open at the top of Leon’s shirt. His hands were traveling under your clothes, palms gripping your thighs, and you found yourself grinding down into Leon’s lap subconsciously, but kept going when it resulted in him groaning into the kiss.
You pulled back suddenly at the victory of pulling the last few buttons open, and Leon immediately caught your stare, but you dropped it to look down at the open expanse of skin and muscle that he had been hiding. A strong chest gave way to flexing ab muscles as he writhed under you, probably trying to gain your attention or to show off, and sturdy hip muscles abducted into V lines that disappeared under the waistline of his pants. You couldn’t help it, you reached out to drag your hands along the smooth skin, every second of contact adding to the pooling happening between your legs, where you were also very conscious of the fact that Leon’s hands were dangerously close to. 
“Do you want this to happen today, or do you want to keep staring?” Leon prodded at you jokingly, and when you looked up, a grin was plastered on his face, and his eyes were still dark. You felt the tightness arise again at just the sight of his expression paired with his upper body on display for you.
“You’re sounding more eager than me, now…” You breathily replied, overwhelmed with all of the emotions coursing you at once. 
Leon breathed a brief laugh before raising an eyebrow with his response. “I can show you eager.”
At once, his hand reached up in between your legs and you felt one of his fingers dance across the hem of your panties, and your grip tightened where your hand landed on his bicep. He gave you no warning when you felt him pull it aside, drag his finger downwards and raked his knuckle through your wetness, earning a sharp gasp from you in return, and you nearly fell forward onto his chest as the feeling sent sparks soaring through you. 
“Calling me eager…” The sound of his voice paired with the feeling of his fingers on you was far too much to handle. “Yet it feels like you must have been wet all night…” He dragged his finger back up to the top where he maneuvered his hand so the pad of his thumb pressed heavily on your clit, and you nearly screamed, but all sound was trapped in your throat as you lost function of your body.
He ripped his hand out of your underwear and it moved around to find the zipper in the back of your skirt. “Take that shirt off,” He ordered, and you obeyed as best you could through your stiff limbs. 
You peeled it off from the bottom, feeling the fabric stick to your moist skin, and Leon’s eyes heavy on you as you finally got it over your head and on the floor. Your lingerie choice was nothing phenomenal, for the expected business meeting at least, but you could tell by his gaze that it really didn't make a difference in what he was thinking right now. Seconds after you dropped your hands back to your sides, he flipped you once again, back on the couch and him hovering over you, pulling the skirt that he had unzipped down your legs, and into the pile of your shirt and his tie somewhere behind you.
Your breathing was erratic as you watched him intently, his lust-filled eyes on your body and his hand running lengths up and down your torso, legs, back up to your chest, and neck, and landing on your bra strap that he pulled down, and wasted no time in attaching his mouth your hot skin. Your hand gripped his elbow as he bit the tender flesh of your breast, he sucked on it harshly once, twice, before lifting and wrapping his lips over your nipple, which had your back arching and a string of soft moans pouring out. 
You felt an aching cramp in your core, the pleasure was insurmountable and you needed him to do something about it, but you knew he was buying time to rile you up as much as possible before doing so. You knew he was straining with his own pleasure and you were desperate to tear apart his belt and pants and take his girth into your hands, to feel it, to taste it, you wanted to choke on it, but you knew he wouldn’t let you do that. If not in the span of a few minutes, maybe not tonight at all. You were submitting your control, and you had to let him do what he wanted.
He finally let go of your nipple, and the air felt cold with the layer of saliva he left behind, and even though you were basically naked save for undergarments, you still felt too covered. You reached up to pull at Leon’s shirt, fully unbuttoned and untucked, and he leaned back on his knees to pry it off of himself. You could see his skin glistening with sweat as he moved, and so badly you wanted to reach out and touch him, run your hands over his skin, all of his muscles, pull him close so you could feel his chest on your own. 
Your eyes fell to his pants, and the tent that was present had your mouth watering, you needed him to pull it out, and now. 
Of course, Leon being ever so sharp, didn’t miss this. “We’ll get there. Don’t worry.” Without looking up, you could hear the cockiness in his voice, but you didn’t care anymore, you couldn't move your eyes from where they landed, trying to imagine his cock in its glory, how long and thick, how he would use it and how it would feel. You felt like you were melting.
Unmoving from where he was propped up in front of you, his hands traveled down the expanse of your legs, dragging his fingers underneath your thighs where it was sensitive, making you jump with the contact. His hands came around to the top of your knees, where he pushed your legs apart and lowered himself in between them. Even just the sight of him doing so had you whimpering, and when he pressed his thumb into your clothed clit, you bucked up, but he was quick to hold you down.
Keeping his thumb centered on your clit, he continued to apply pressure, using his middle and index finger to stroke up and down on the outside of your panties, which you were sure were soaked by now. Throwing your head back into the couch, one hand gripping onto the wrist that was holding Leon up and the other was clawing into the cushion, you were dying for him to do something. 
He was getting too used to teasing you now. He had you right where he wanted, half naked on the couch in his office after hours, so close to practically coming untouched at this point, and while you wanted to fight him on this, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The mixture of the pleasure and mental ecstasy you were feeling had you forfeiting any sense of control now, and you just watched him, as he watched you.
All at once, you felt the cold air hit your core as your underwear was peeled away from you, but the sensation didn't last long as a hot, wet tongue was pressed into your heat, and you nearly screamed at the sudden contact.
His mouth was all you could focus on in that moment, you could feel every movement his tongue made, and your body reacted viscerally to it. Your hand flew out and grabbed onto Leon’s hair, which incited him to only keep going, and to be ruthless. His hands were digging into your thighs where he was spreading them apart, fighting against you wanting to close them in reaction to pleasure he was sending shooting through your body. 
One long, painfully slow lick from top to bottom ended at your clit where he latched on, tongue pressing in and teeth gently making an appearance, and your grip in his hair became even stronger when he pushed two fingers into you, your vision going blurry, and there was no filter left to stop any thoughts from pouring out over your lips. 
“Oh my god… Leon…” You were whining now, moaning in between deep breaths and gasps, feeling his fingers pump in and out all while his tongue was relentless on you. 
His mouth disappeared but his thumb took its place, and you felt him kissing, licking, sucking his way up your torso, chest, neck, until he was seated next to your ears, groaning into them as you dug your nails into his skin.
“Oh my god, what, huh? You like the way I make you feel?” All you could do was gasp out a ‘yes’ in response to his question, he wasn’t giving you any liberty to be coherent. “You probably thought about this all day…” A bite below your ear followed the sentence. “That pussy was so wet… you probably wanted this since the first day…”
And you did. How could you not have thought about this at the sight of your insanely attractive boss? Wouldn’t it be so hot to be banging your model-status boss, having to hide it from your coworkers, going in his office to sneak touches while no one outside those doors knew? Yes, of course you thought about it. It had your heart racing, and now you would stop at nothing to make those fantasies real.
“You feel so good, I can’t wait to be inside you.” With one last soft bite to the jaw, he pulled his fingers out of you, and involuntarily you whimpered, but he shut you up by pressing a kiss into your lips, which you greatly accepted. His kiss was harsh yet soft at the same time, you felt a passion behind it while also letting his tongue sweep over yours, tasting yourself on him, sighing into it, feeling like you could kiss him forever.
His hands left you, now feeling bare, you gripped his shoulders hard as you heard him undoing his own belt. As much as you wanted to do it yourself and be right in front when you pulled his hard cock out of his pants, you didn’t have it in you to attempt to move yourself, and with Leon on top of you, he was sure to stop any feeble move you made to do so.
HIs lips left yours once more and reattached to the side of your throat, biting down harder than before, but it only made you moan, arch harder into him, and sent a flurry of hot tingles into your pussy, aching for more action from him.
Leon pushed himself off of you, his warm mouth off of you and leaned back, staring at you panting, and of course, his dick in his hands was impossible to ignore. Just seeing it was almost bliss, and now you were desperate for him to use it as you lay there, being scrutinized under your boss’ gaze, and while you felt so tiny, just the sight of how hard he was made you feel so powerful.
He took a deep breath in, taking in the sight of you, before lowering himself again, lining up with your gaze so you looked him directly in the eye. You felt his forehead press into yours, his hand lingered around your underwear again, pushing it aside, and after just another moment of silence, another deep kiss, his bare chest met yours and you felt the tip of his dick push into you, past the entrance, into the warmth. 
You sighed so loud, followed by a moan, hands still gripping his shoulders, listening to him groan in tandem with you as he slowly bottomed out. His pelvis pushed against you, your legs coming up to wrap around him, and you felt his hands pull your bra down so he could cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your nipple, adding to the pleasure. 
“You feel so fucking good… Fuck…” He was groaning, he hadn’t even started moving yet, and you were dying for him to start. He sat still in you, lapping at the skin between your jaw and neck, positive he could feel the vibrations on his lips of your moans.
“Please, Leon, move… Please,” Your nails were surely digging red streaks into the skin of his back by now, but he barely even seemed to notice, rather, you thought he might have loved the feeling of it instead. You felt the pressure of him lying on top of you, paired with the pressure building in between your legs, your thighs beginning to shake, having to hold onto Leon tighter to steady them.
Finally, he slowly started to pull out, and you could barely breathe at the sensation it left behind. He kept his face buried in your neck, you could feel his ragged, heavy breathing and you could hear his groaning which was only making you wetter. 
His hips snapped forward, no regard to what pace you had wanted to set, not like it mattered, you probably would have told him quick and rough anyway if he asked. You almost screamed out at the feeling of him slamming into you, you could only throw your head back onto the couch cushion and rake your hands over his skin, into his hair. Leon licked a long stripe up your neck to your jaw, gently biting on your bottom lip before kissing you again. 
You kept kissing him hard in between his thrusts, with him pulling away for only a second at a time, both of you breathing hard, your hands traveling down to grip his biceps, and you could feel them flexing with his movement. 
“Shit,” He said over you, you could feel his breath on your lips. “So fucking tight,” One of his hands went down to grab onto one of your legs that you had thrown over him. “So fucking good.” He practically growled as he continued the assault on you, his hips showing no mercy, and his hand sure to leave a bruise on your thigh from his grip.
Leon pushed himself up, still inside of you, leaving you lying down. His skin was slick with his sweat, and maybe yours as well from being pressed against you. His hair was falling down over his forehead, and god he looked so good right now, if you weren’t already in the act of getting the shit fucked out of you, you would want to fuck him all over again. His hands adjusted their position to rest on your hips, pulling you up so he can fuck you from his kneeling position.
This new angle was hitting every spot perfectly, allowing him to go deeper than he was from just above you. The intense stretch his cock was delivering paired with the way he was holding onto your hips with such ferocity, all of it together was too much, and you were becoming unwound. 
“Leon… Leon, fuck…” You gasped out, barely able to finish your sentence, but Leon understood well enough. He slowed his pace only a beat, but it was enough to have you straining, desperate for him to go faster to allow you to finish. He kept up with the slower pace, watching you as you whined under him, begging him to go faster.
“Please, Leon…” You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, barely able to keep them open. Through them, you could see him looking at you, brows furrowed in exertion, mouth open, chest rising and falling with rapid breathing.
“Please what?” Leon growled. You whined again, knowing he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. “Say it.”
You couldn’t breathe, but you had to give him what he wanted so he could give you what you wanted. “Leon, please, I’m going to cum… please…” 
He leaned in again, still holding your hips up, his pace even slower now, and you could feel the heat bundling up, bringing tears to your eyes at the lack of relief. His face was inches away from yours. “Please, what?” 
You choked out a sob, mixed with a groan at the slightest movement he made inside of you. “Please let me cum Leon, please,” You had no voice at this point, the words coming out in a whisper, loud enough for him to hear, but he probably would have anyway. 
“That’s right.” He backed up now, and resumed his previous position. “Good girls get what they want when they ask.” Your eyes closed in bliss when he picked up his pace, the weight of his words hanging heavy in your head, adding to the ecstasy he was giving you right now. He was slamming into you again, steadying himself on your hips while also pulling them forward to meet his thrusts. You had no breath left to spare on words anymore, and fruitless moans spilled from your lips focusing the energy on bringing your orgasm to close. 
You tried to call out his name as best as you could, but all you heard were moans as the heat inside you came to a roaring burst, and you felt your legs tighten around Leon, his grip steadying you, your hands clawing at the cushion, at his wrists where they held onto you. 
Your heartbeat was crazy at this point, and you couldn't even hold your eyes open as you rode out your orgasm, his hands smoothing over your skin, and you used the sensation to come back to reality. He had momentarily stilled his movements again, and you felt his lips on your neck, none of the roughness there now. You rolled your head over to the side to face him, and when you did he attached his lips to yours, a passionate kiss, his hands feeling like heaven on your body. 
You pulled away and stared at him for a moment. His eyes were soft, but his face was still contorted in concentration.
“I hope you don’t think we’re done here, darling.” You breathed out a sigh, collecting yourself, a smile creeping onto your face.
You kissed him, and whispered into his lips, “Show me what you got left, then.”
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toocabaret · 1 year
Text
I’ve been having some Thoughts™️ about the weird meta paradox of gerri kellman’s sexuality. as basically The Older Woman on the executive floor she’s trying as much as is possible to blend in with her male colleagues while also not being perceived to be doing so. muted colours and understated makeup. a competent filing cabinet. her husband is dead and her daughters are nameless. she was sexual once but that’s out of sight out of mind and now it’s just the work. it must be a relief in some ways to become finally unfuckable because you’re over 40. she can finally be taken seriously, but only if she toes the line between being too female and not female enough. trying but not too hard. desirable in the past tense only. an honorary man but still in a skirt. and while the men around her can fuck their much younger assistants and get sports massages and run a sex trafficking ring on a cruise ship, she is the job and only the job and that keeps her safe. for a bit anyway.
the irony of gerri saving the company from the full legal extent of a sex scandal by dating someone from the DOJ??? like i’ll never be over it. even filing cabinets have to flatter and please and fuck when called upon. i genuinely don’t believe any of the other execs could have swung it because they’re not women. she dated laurie (generally unseen unless framed from another man’s possessive perspective) to save the men from going to jail for covering up rape allegations. the irony is delicious. and even though she did that, she’s discarded once she’s framed sexually. Dick Pic Gate was out of her control and yet when confronted with any element of gerri’s sexuality (even her PASSIVE sexuality, even after using it to save his company), logan dismisses her as weak or impractical or failing or whatever other excuse he uses to justify his disgust.
i would argue that roman’s interest in gerri is not in spite of but BECAUSE of her asexual framing. it’s a challenge that he’s never going to win which is ideal for his impotency issues; he can push and push and get the thrill out of it, out of the fucked up power dynamic, but he knows he’ll never have to actually fuck her. it’s all hypothetical: down a phone, through a door, half-joking, covered in sensible skirt suits. gerri’s deliberate lack of sexualizing is counterintuitively a turn-on for roman. and i bet the game of chicken they play is freeing for her too because the fact that she has to be professional and cannot be sensual is part of the fun of it. “roman is weird about gerri”. “it’s fucking disgusting”. not because of their family history, or their professional positions, but because she’s old. because the absence of her sexuality is enough of a presence to be off-putting. shiv patronising her about it as a power play is so weird because she’s talking to her simultaneously like a child and like an old woman, and gerri, agency-less, just has to keep reassuring her “i can cope”.
BUT it’s worse than that because it’s so meta. Because gerri is hot. her actor is attractive and like roman, many people watching find her sexless, no-nonsense framing to be titillating. me included. what if roman likes gerri not because of oedipal issues but just because she’s hot and god forbid we find a woman over 50 hot? but whether or not gerri is hot in the context of the show shouldn’t be a big deal, she should have been able to escape this by now!!! she’s in her 60s she’s a widow she’s tired stop sexualizing her!!! but don’t NOT sexualize her either because that’s problematic too and old women can be hot and old women shouldn’t have to be hot and suddenly i’m making gerri do what waystar does and exist as something sexual and non-sexual at the same time. she has a huge plotline in which she’s essentially a sex object. whether or not gerri is fuckable is talked about as much in the show with mildly-disgusted fascination as it is in the real world!!! she can’t win she’s hot she’s old she’s sexually framed she’s deliberately trying not to be she wants sex she doesn’t want sex she’s covering sex with sex and she’s telling roman to leave her alone so she can just do her damn job because she knows that this is what will bring her down!!! sex scandals historically don’t get men fired but an unsolicited dick pic knocks gerri off her podium in logan’s head forever. even now i’m talking about it at such length because i’ve given it so much thought!!! she’s the only woman in the old guard and she’s one of the most sexualized characters in succession. but only as a joke. in the abstract. never actually. because that would be weird. right?
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americaswritings · 5 months
Text
Voices of Roses and Ruin | Part IV
Warnings: Violence, murder, Coriolanus being himself, his thoughts
Summary: Coriolanus is looking for you- but he is not the only one.
Words: 2k
Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader
A/N: And we have reached the last part! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you like this miniseries. Also I finished the book and watched the movie again (and it was so freaking goood aaah)!!
If you have ideas for Coriolanus oneshots I would love to hear from you (or if you just feel like ranting about the movie, the world of Panem, the characters, Tom Blyth...lol)
There will be more Coriolanus Snow x reader COMING SOON!
Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here
Part I | Part II | Part III | Masterlist
Add yourself to my taglist! (so you don't miss anything) :)
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Coriolanus stared at the bird, watching as it opened its mouth and your paniced voice came out.
“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!”
Behind him he heard movement, but he was too shellshocked to turn around. He didn‘t need to, he would have recognised that voice anywhere.
"The downfall of a Snow. If that isn‘t something I always wanted to-"
Before the commander could finish his sentence Coriolanus had turned and shot him in the head.
The loud noise startled the bird in its cage and it spread its wings, trying to lift in the air but failing in the closeted space. At least it was quiet now.
Good. If it would have made another sound, used your voice again, he would have wasted a bullet on it.
All of this had been a set-up. A test, to prove his loyality to the capitol. And he had failed. Spectacularly so.
He had chosen you. Your future. And in the same breath he had decided against his own.
Coriolanus was certain in no time more peacekeepers would show up. Perhaps he would know some of them. Maybe he even shared a room and his meals with them and he didn't want to kill him, if he could prevent it.
But if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.
Even though he had never been in the arena, except the time when he had been sent to get Sejanus out, the capitol's games had turned him into a killer too. Or had that always been a part of him, one he had never known existed before?
A violent one, that didn't hesitate to do what needed to be done to save himself. It was scary, but to know his own power felt thrilling too. That if it came down to it he wouldn't just stand around and whine, but act and do what needed to be done, even if it involved getting his hands dirty.
It was true that a desperate man was a dangerous one, because what else did he have to lose? No, there was only you and he would do everything now to save the one thing he had left.
With one last dismissive glance at the dead commander Coriolanus turned and hurried through the corridors. He needed to find you.
Even if you weren't here and he was convinced they had used a recording of you from the arena, he wasn't naive enough to believe it meant you were safe. Unharmed.
What if the capitol had gotten to you?
Maybe you weren't in the district anymore.
Or worse, they had executed you at the hanging tree while they had ordered him here as a distraction.
Both thoughts scared him.
He needed a plan. He couldn't just walk around the district looking for you. Soon they would know what he had done and everyone in the district would be looking for his face.
Then he would end up at the hanging tree and die an undignified death.
But Coriolanus didn't have a better idea. He lacked ressources and power out here and with no ally in his corner he was left to his own.
Keeping his gaze straight ahead and his strides fast and purposeful, he immerged into the bustling streets of the district. He still had no idea where to find you and with each corner he rounded his hope to find you before the capitol did sank.
A turmoil at the market caught his attention and he hurried past the shops until the found a spot that allowed him a good view. A group of peacemakers pushed through the crowd of people, their faces grim and their weapons drawn.
They were searching, no, hunting. For him or for you Coriolanus didn't know.
He pressed himself against the wall when they neared him, lowering his head so they didn't get a glance of his face. "Hey!"
Damn it!
One of the men had noticed him and marched right towards him. Coriolanus was torn between waiting for what was about to happen and ending the man before he got the chance to out him to anyone, but he only had the gun and it would draw too much attention.
"We've got the order to look for the girl that won the games. Come on!"
Coriolanus let out a breath. The man didn't recongize him, not as her mentor and not as a traitor. Word about what he had done hadn't gotten around yet it seemed.
Or this was just another trap.
"What are we supposed to do when we find her?", he asked sternly as he followed the peacekeeper and joined the troop. It was dangerous, being so close to his enemies. If they turned on him now he would stand no chance against them. They outnumbered him.
But it was his best chance to keep an eye on them and it was not like he had a choice.
"For now arrest her. But I suppose she'll have a date with the hanging tree soon." The bastard laughed and Coriolanus wanted to punch him for it until the only sound coming out of his mouth were pleas for forgiveness.
He didn't bother to ask what crime they believed you were guilty of. It didn't matter and too many questions would raise suspicions.
So he followed them raiding the streets and asking shopkeepers and tradesmen about you, relieved about their lack of information regarding your whereabouts, but growing more uneasy with each.
Because with night beginning to set it became clear that they wouldn't stop their search until they had found you and with each minute that ticked by the chance of his actions staying undiscovered slimmed.
"We should seperate", he suggested after another unsuccessful house search. "We stick to the commander's order", the man next to him said and Coriolanus squinted at him in the darkness.
"When did he gave the order?", he asked warily and earned an impatient look. "At dinner time", he said with a shake of his head that openly questioned Corioanus' intelligence, who ignored it.
He was feeling dizzy and the world seemed strangely disorted as he grasped for composure. He had missed dinner time, because he had been ordered to speak to the commander. But if that hadn't been the commander, who had he killed?
"The hell", the man next to him whispered, pushing him roughly forward, "what's going on with you, man?!" Coriolanus had no time to answer.
There was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest as control was slipping from his fingers and he felt himself spirraling.
"I got her!"
A loud voice pulled him from his trance and his head snapped into the direction it came from, all air leaving him when he saw you in the grip of a peacemaker.
He had locked his hand around your upper arm and was yanking you roughly towards them. "Thought she could hide", he roared with a laugh and the others joined in.
Coriolanus couldn't bring himself to join. Not even for show.
He was staring at your fearful face, the uncertainity behind your eyes mixing with defiance. "I don't know what you're accusing me of, but I didn't do anything", you stated and he noted with a hint of pride that your voice didn't waver.
That was his girl.
"Shut up or I'll make you!", the man growled and tightened his grip around you. Coriolanus could see the pain reflected on your face, but it gave way to shock and then disbelief as your gaze fell on him.
He couldn't do anything than stare at you, relieved to find you alive and unharmed after he had been witness to your desperate screams, but overwhelmed by his own powerlessness now.
Your eyes travelled his face and he saw a flicker of concern before it turned to an expression of betrayal and hurt.
He half expected an outlash, accusations or insults thrown his way, but you pressed your lips into a thin line, turning away your face. How easily you coud have hurt him now, but had chosen not to.
Interesting...
"Let's go!"
You were thrusted forward and he watched you stumble before you caught yourself again.
"I'll take her!" His own voice sounded far away and he was surprised that he had finally found it again. "We spend almost all night looking for her, I'll hande the rest."
The men exchanged glances. They were all tired, but bound by orders. Temptation fought hesitation and he prayed they would just let him have his way. He didn't want to kill them. It would be messy.
"Nice try, but I won't let you earn yourself all the praise."
With that they continued their way, but Coriolanus hadn't missed your attentive gaze on him. Maybe you finally understood the depths of his feelings.
That he would not let you walk to your own execution, even if all odds spoke against him. But what had he to loose?
Coriolanus waited until they passed another corner. It was late and the streets were empty, the people had gone to bed.
The poor electricty supply finally held an advantage, because there were no streetlamps to provide light and so not one of the other peacekepers noticed when he let his hand wander to his weapon, cautiously closing his fingers around it.
He had given them a chance, but they hadn't taken it.
The first two fell before the others had even noticed something was off. The shots were disturbingly loud in the quiet of the night and he knew he needed to act fast or he would be facing off against far more than just a troop of peacekeepers.
Would the men and women of the district be on his side? But what little could they do to help?
They stood no chance against their weapons, which could be fired more than a hundred times before they needed reloading.
It would be a bloodbath.
And he wasn't sure, if they wouldn't turn against him. In their eyes he was just a peacekeeper. It was all they would see when they looked at him.
As the other men turned he took out another one, but the man who held you in his grip swung you around, using your body as his shield before Coriolanus got the chance to aim his way.
"Lay down your weapon or I'll shoot her!", he yelled and raised his own weapon to press it against your temple.
You flinched, your eyes locked on Coriolanus. There was no fear in your eyes, only defeat and acceptance.
That only made it worse.
"The commander wants her alive. Now give her to me!", Coriolanus demanded, not even thinking about lowering his gun, but the man only narrowed his eyes in response.
"Traitor", he hissed, pressing your body closer to his, when your body suddenly went limp in his arms.
The moment the peacekeeper was distracted Coriolanus placed a bullet right between his eyebrows.
The shooting training had been useful at last.
Your eyes snapped open, confirming his assumption that you had faked the moment of weakness, and you staggered forward and away from the man who fell liveless to the ground.
Your gaze drifted over the dead peacekeepers and then to Coriolanus, shock and dread written all over your face.
"You killed them", you breathed, wavering once more. "You killed all of them."
Coriolanus stepped forward, his hands reaching out for yours. They were cold. Icy.
"I did what needed to be done", he said matter of factly, hiding his pride, because he knew you wouldn't appreicate it. But he had just taken out a number of well-trained men just by himself. Even you would have to admit it had been impressive.
In a shoot-out he wouldn't have stand a chance against them all, but they had underestimated him. Trusted him blindly. And they had paid for it.
You found his gaze, horror slowing fading into understanding. You nodded once, swallowing and straightening.
"I know", you whispered, "you saved my life."
All he wanted was to hold you and relish your skin on his. That he finally had you. That you were save. But there was no time for sentiment now.
"We need to leave."
You caught his gaze, your own questioning. "Where should we go? They will search the whole district for us and-", understanding crossed your face, "you mean you will run away with me?"
He took a breath and nodded. "It's the only choice."
You looked at him, your eyes searching for something he didn't know he could give you. But he could give you his love and devotion. It seemed enough for you, because you squeezed his hands and straightened your shoulders.
"Then it's my pleasure Coriolanus Snow."
"And it's mine."
You didn't let go of his hand as you turned and ran through the streets of the district and towards the line of trees.
Never would he have imagined this to be his fate as he had seen your face on the capitol's tv during the reaping. But he knew you would find a way, together.
Some day you might even tell your children about this. About a love that had ruined his life and rebuild it, stripped him bare and led him to his innermost, darkest parts.
And the birds lining the branches of the trees would be witness to it.
To your every word.
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risuola · 8 months
Note
Please hear me out!
i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I wanted to write it myself but I can’t write for shit 😭 Here’s my idea, reader (she/her) is close friends with Satoru and Suguru. She takes Suguru’s place instead, and Suguru ends up not going insane, and decides to stick around in Jujutsu High. But because the reader takes his place in this story, she spirals and abandons the idea of being morally good. (She’s a sensitive softie at heart 🥹 the cruel reality of being a sorcerer really took a toll on her). She commits so many crimes that the higher ups urge the strongest duo to finally execute her after dismissing her for nearly a decade. She dies in their hands, and doesn’t get a proper burial. Kenjaku takes her body and uses it as vessel. When Shibuya arc finally unfolds, she shows up right in front of Satoru and Suguru, alive and well. Soon reveals that it’s Kenjaku who has full control of her body. Of course their guilts eats them alive, and the reader (more like kenjaku) rubs salt on their wounds by taunting them about how she’s a great vessel and also a waste that she had to die so soon.
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LOST CAUSE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU + GETO SUGURU, but there’s no romance whatsoever, guest appearance of Kenjaku
cw: an au where SatoSugu have another close friend; spoilers for Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc and the very beginning of Shibuya arc, so much angst and the usual that comes with JJK – blood, hurt, tears and depression : D also, possibly inaccurate references to the original plot, reader's death — 5,5k words
a/n: I’m hearing you out dear! Thank you for the conception, it certainly fulfilled my need to write long and angsty <3
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It was stupid. All of it was stupid. Why? Which decisions led you to where you now stood, all of your mind and body filled with devastation as you stilled in time – above the piles of little corpses, disfigured and permanently contorted in a grimace of dread and suffering. A stench of blood and burned bodies irritated your nostrils, your eyes were teary from all the smoke that still was filling the air and as you looked down at your hands, they were covered in blood and purple goo. Sticky. Repulsive. And the screams. In the dead silence of your surroundings, your head was still filled with an echo of those, who were now dead at your feet. Those, who you were unable to save. The imagery of them running, begging, dying carved itself into your mind. Why were you here, again?
* * *
“Hey, y/n, you’ve lost some weight. Are you alright?”, Satoru asked, playing with pencil that just a moment ago he asked you to throw at him. A showcase of his new skills, the techniques he’s been perfecting for the last year after encountering Toji Fushiguro. You forced a smile, squinting from the blinding sun of the summer at its peak.
“Yeah, sure,” you replied, patting Suguru’s shoulder, because his attentive eyes were scanning you already for any sign of disorder; you could hear his analytic brain cranking up, his golden pupils drilling holes in your head. “I’m good, it’s just too hot you know?”
“Wanna go grab some ice cream later?”
“Always.” No, you didn’t wanna go grab ice cream with them. You didn’t wanna grab anything with anyone for that matter and already you had come up with some half-baked excuse to sell later to your two best friends.
You, Shoko, Gojo and Geto were all in the same year in Jujutsu high. You joined them a little late, but quickly found yourself inside the love triangle with the two boys. You called it love, but it truly was nothing more than just a bonding friendship that you wished will last forever; a really close one and you couldn’t imagine your world without their chaos. They were like brothers to you, the ones you’ve never had and Ieiri was like a sister, but she was smart enough to keep her distance from the mess of SatoSugu. You were not as bright in that matter, but for two years, you couldn’t appreciate enough the yin and yang that they created, the casual bickers and deep talks late at night, the cuddles and pinches, the pats and smacks, the tears and laughs, sleepovers, sleepless nights and everything between. You loved them, you couldn’t think of your future without them.
That’s until not that long ago. Few months, maybe. You felt like you’ve been spiraling slowly into something that could only be named depression, because if not that, then what else? Why would you randomly tear up nowadays, zoning out completely in the midst of sentences. Why would you spend nights, blankly staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, isolating yourself from your friends more and more? And why would you still hear that? The screams, the pleads of hysteric, the soul-tearing sounds of pain and frighten that you’ve been carrying inside your brain since that one mission.
Everything went wrong then, and you were alone. Shoko stayed at the campus, working her way towards becoming a doctor and you, Satoru and Suguru were assigned only to solo missions since the plasma vessel failure. You were strong, it was stated that your year was exceptional, that all of you have a chance to become special grades soon, but you hated that. Being strong came with a burden that you were not ready to take, and when you realized that, most of it was already heaving on your shoulders.
When you got to that school, it was already too late and it wasn’t your fault. You rushed there as soon as you were assigned with the job, but when you dropped the curtain and looked at the building, there was already smoke coming from the window holes, that some time earlier had glass in them. And when you kicked your way inside the little indoor sports arena, the view struck you in ways you couldn’t possibly prepare yourself for and certainly, you couldn’t process it as well. The school was primary, those people were just kids, but the curses pay no mind to age of their victims. This one was particularly playful – or rather, eagerly violent – spreading hellfire around, burning these children alive one by one, causing chaos, suffering and bloodshed. When you finished exorcising it, it was over. For the curse, for your job and for the lives of all of those children. None survived. Not even one.
Not always we can save everyone, Suguru always told you, rationalizing the sacrifices sorcerers have to make and you tried to repeat that in your head when you got out. You tried to play it over the screams, but eventually, the soft tone of your friend’s voice got lost in the catastrophic cacophony of sorrow, sizzling skin and burning death. And that, maybe wouldn’t be enough for you to lose your mind. Maybe you could recover from that, but soon after the incident you witnessed the group of people that stood behind the assault. A band of grown humans, men and women, who were convinced some of those children were possessed by devils or some other shit, so in all hypocrisy known to race, they hired a curse user to fight fire with fire. Quite literally. Those people were so blinded by their fear of unknown that they sacrificed lives of dozens of little children, they shattered so many innocent lives only because they believed in something absurd. And then, they tried to push the blame on you, on sorcerers despite the fact they hired one to do the dirty job. And then, they killed the user, fearing him too. When you’ve got to see the body of a sorcerer that you’ve never got to meet, or at least you thought so, you realized that probably, you wouldn’t recognize him anyway. You’ve seen corpses barely reminiscing of humans, twisted and broken as curses often chose the most petrifying, violent ways of killing, but this? This was something you’ve never seen before – a cruel, ruthless exhibition of pure hate, evidence of deliberate torture, the picture painted in stabs, burns and bruises. All of which, caused by people, who frankly, showed no remorse nor regret as their faces were painted in pride, origin of which you failed to notice.
Those humans. Used jujutsu to commit mass murder only to blame it on your people and kill them. Animals. No. Worse. Much worse.
“Y/n, please, let’s talk it through,” Suguru tried to reason, as you stood up against the two of your friends, in the middle of Shibuya’s scramble crossing. People were passing next to the three of you, unbothered by the way your worlds were colliding right here, in the busiest part of Tokyo. People didn’t care of others, they wouldn’t react if someone next to them would get stabbed to death, only caring about their own shoes to not get them stained in the dirt of blood.
“Don’t be stupid, it’s not who you are,” Satoru raised his tone, but all you felt was nothing. The emotions you’ve seen on his face were real, you knew it. Satoru wears his heart on his shoulder, he pours everything he feels into the words he aims at people that are close to his soul, and you were no exception, but at this moment, you felt nothing. “I know you couldn’t do that.”
“Couldn’t I?”, you asked, thinking back on the last Friday, during which you executed those same people that used jujutsu sorcerers to wipe the floors of that primary school. To wipe the blood and burned bodies. You remember how they knelt before you, how the women cried begging for their lives, yelping that they have children, families and yet, those same children and families were nowhere in their mind when they ordered a mass murder in the primary school. “And why would that be exactly? Because you two think so?”
“Y/n, I get it,” Geto stepped forward, but stopped as you glanced at him. “I really do. You know me, we talked about it. It was hard for me too after Riko, I know what you’re going through.”
“I know Suguru.”
“I thought you keep his side, y/n,” Gojo threw his hands in the air, helplessly trying to find the words to dress his mind with. “I thought you believe in doing good with your powers. That people won’t understand so we shouldn’t look at them and just do what we do. Wasn’t that what you’ve told me?”
“I did, yes,” you gave it a nod and exhaled. “But it changed. Yes, they won’t understand. Anything that they can’t comprehend is pure evil for them and yet they believe in such absurd like gods. They will use us to do their dirty works and then blame us for it, because they cannot understand a single thing. And then, they will kill us, one by one and we, the strongest, cannot do nothing about it. We’ll have to go through life through the corpses of our friends. People don’t deserve what we do for them.”
“Y/n, please, let’s talk about it. Let’s get back to school-“ Geto tried, but you cut him off.
“You two, get back to school. I know I have a sentence already, there’s no point for me to get back there only to get executed. And frankly, I don’t want to get back there, to take part in what they teach us is right when we die for those people. We give our lives for them and they have no idea,” you said, taking a step back. You could tell the lights will soon switch. “Look around, Satoru, Suguru. They crawl around us unaware of our sacrifice and yet, even if they are so fragile a single blow can kill them, they think we deserve to be killed. I’m not gonna take part in this anymore. I’m sorry.”
“We can’t let you go, you know that, we-“
“Then attack me. I’m sure any of you can take me down. I’d rather die by your hands, than on a job of protecting them.”
You turned your back on them, and Satoru raised his hand, pointing at your silhouette, blue already on his mind as his cursed energy gathered in front of his fingers. Suguru’s curses sprawled out of their dimension, but none of them pursued with the attack, unable to do that. They couldn’t kill you. You were too dear to them. They loved you too much to take your life like this. So they let you go, and soon enough, they lost the sight of you in the crowd.
* * *
Nine years. It's been almost a decade and many things changed. You changed your ways completely, making a point of protecting sorcerers from people, even if that meant killing them, but care for humans was something you’ve lost many years ago, having it slowly replaced by disgust. Your once soft heart turned hard and dark and all the good in you vanished as you time after time solidified your beliefs that humans are simply not worth saving, therefore there was no need to keep them alive the moment they became useless. Over those years, you used those people to your benefit, raising money and gathering intel and then, the second their use to you has become nonexistent, so were them. Blood burned permanent stains on your hands but screams of hurt didn’t phase you at all. Have you become a monster? You might have. But for the lives of sorcerers, it was worth it.
It’s been almost a decade since you’ve been dismissed from jujutsu community for crimes, that over those years piled up rapidly and during this time, both Satoru and Suguru tried to stay out of this, whilst Yaga turned a blind eye to the corrupted path one of his students went down by. The now principal felt responsible for not doing enough, for not saying enough, for not noticing soon enough and though the rest of his students, now teachers in Jujutsu high told him that some things were inevitable, it wasn’t that easy to switch off the thinking. Same went for both the strongest, but for years, they waited in hopes for something to change.
That was until you killed someone seemingly important. A politician of sorts, high government pawn that you learned was funding a unit of so-called sorcerer killers, ones that modelled after Toji Fushiguro in cold blood were meant to take down a menace that jujutsu users were, as if it was them who were the ones to fear. Opposite to little no-one’s deaths, this one was loud, this one was medial and this one, Yaga couldn’t let slip. So, an order was given.
Kill on sight.
Almost ten years, and yet Satoru still couldn’t believe what happened. Whilst young, the three of you were almost inseparable and you, out of the whole group, were the most sensitive person he knew. You were soft and full of smiles, kind above all else and yet, you were strong enough to hold back the tears he knew were threatening to roll down your cheeks on many occasions. You were soothing, an oasis that was easily able to turn any darkness into light, and what Satoru couldn’t forgive himself was that once that same darkness started devouring you, he didn’t notice. Too focused on his own missions, on lighthearted shenanigans, on perfecting his usage of limitless and six eyes, he had no idea about your state of mind and when he realized, you have already been sentenced. Suguru didn’t notice either. Or maybe didn’t want to notice, because you talked through many nights about the doubts you both had. He knew about the utter devastation that was slowly consuming your soul but hoped you’ll overcome it, because you always were a sunshine, and a sunshine couldn’t die down to shadows. Turned out, this shadow was pitch black and no light made its way through it.
“Y/n,” they called you and the beautiful music that their voices created brought back memories of your youth. Ten years, almost, had passed since you’ve seen your best friends the last time, and with curiosity sparkling through your system, you turned to face them.
“Satoru, Suguru,” addressing them, your lips curved up slightly in a manner of soft joy. Your heart fluttered at the sight; your pulse raised just as it would for person who’s just seen the love of their life. “Long time no see.”
“It’s not as pleasurable as we would like it to be, y/n,” Suguru sighed and you took a moment to absorb the view.
Both of them changed. Suguru, still tall and broad, seemingly even buffier than he was before stood there with his hair now longer and partially knotted and partially left loose on his back. His facial features sharpened, jaw got more edge to it, eyes turned more narrow and focused, but still, some softness remained from what you remembered and probably he would seem even more familiar if not for the tough expression he had going on. Satoru, right next to him, became even taller. His white hair was now pointing up, kept by a white wrap that completely covered his eyes – something that he probably adapted during the time of usage of his six eyes. Not much of his face you could see, but with ease you noticed his features matured. Both were dressed in uniforms that you could only tie to their unbreakable bond with Jujutsu high.
“You’re now teachers, the two of you, huh?”, you asked, smiling softly, but keeping their moves in mind. “I’ve heard this year’s students are exceptional, now it makes sense. Good they have such amazing senseis.”
“You could have been one of the teachers too,” Gojo snapped.
“How could I teach anyone something I don’t believe in?” a chuckle rumbled deep in your chest as you thought of the image. Abstraction of it made you amused. “How’s Shoko? Is she a doctor now?
“She is,” Geto muttered, unsure why is he answering your questions. “Yaga is the principal.”
“Oh, is he? Look at him, climbing up that ladder,” you laughed, “so, it’s on his orders that you two are here?”
“You killed a fucking politician, y/n,” Satoru spoke, sounding calm but you could tell his blood was boiling. Both of his hands hidden in his pockets were visibly clenched in fists and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew his brows were furrowed. “Almost a decade we allowed you to do whatever you tried to do, but this time, higher ups stepped in. The sentence is decided, we cannot let you pursue your goals further.”
“And why are you both here? I’m sure just one amazing special grade would be enough,” there was a certain amount of poison in your words, though it wasn’t directed at your friends and both of them knew it. “Are the higher ups so desperate to get me off the board because it’s them who give green lights to those assholes that kill us? Did you know that that pathetic politician I’ve killed was in midst of creating an army of little Toji Fushiguros? How do you think he even knew about the dude, huh?”
“An army of Toji?”
“Yeah, remember that guy, that cut both of you into slices? Yea, that one. And who’s giving away the cursed tools to said army? Well, it’s not me and I assume not any of you as well.”
 “Y/n,” Suguru made his way to the side in what seemed like an attempt on surrounding you, because in that same moment, Satoru began shifting to the other side. “I agree with you. People don’t deserve what we do. But no one else can do it. You’re killing those whom we swore to protect.”
“Tell me, Suguru… how many bodies of our friends did Shoko cut open?” you asked and the question made the dark-haired man tsk. It was the truth that hurt the most, he hated how precisely it hit the spot. “How many of our allies were spread across her metal table after Haibara was there? Well, half of Haibara?”
“That’s not the point,” Satoru scoffed and with an exhale, he raised his hand up to loosen up the bandages around his eyes. “We die just as people die. Sorcerers are not above death. You know that, right?”
“We’re not above that, but we are above people and we risk our lives, which we just like them have only one of, for them. And they fuckingstep on it. If I have to pick who’s gonna die from a curse, why would I pick a sorcerer, when a loss of a mere human will be much less tangible than the loss of one of us?”
“Because they cannot protect themselves from curses, and we can.” Geto replied and in a whiff, you felt the appearance of his curses around him. Both him and Gojo were getting ready for a fight, so you had to get ready as well.
“But can we really protect ourselves from them?”, you glared back at him; your tone calm but laced with icicles that pierced through Suguru’s mind as he struggled to see you inside of you.
All of the softness he had always equated you with dissolved into something he couldn’t quite place. Image of you killing someone just for the sake of killing somehow couldn’t materialize inside his mind and it pained him, breaking his heart to think that he will be the reason of your death. And it’s true that probably, just one of them would be enough for that fight, but there was no way they would be able to chose and no one else could do it. You were the strongest, you grew into a special grade quickly after leaving and your technique proved to have no flaws or holes. You were a threat above abilities of others, stepping down only to the two of your friends, if not being equal to them.
“Let’s do it quickly, Suguru,” Satoru sighed, tucking his wraps into one of his pockets.
“Oh, where’s your playful attitude, Satoru?”, you teased, but somehow it hurt you as well. It was your friend you were talking to. Both of them, that came here to kill you and only way for you to get out of it was to kill them.
And killing them, turned out, you couldn’t do. Even hurting them came with difficulty not physically, but mentally. But you fought them both at the same time, keeping a defensive stance, searching for an opening to vanish. From them, you wished to run away, to not make them take the burden of your death because you could see it in their eyes, you were just as dear to them still, as they were to you. But they left you no opening to run away, so you fought. Using everything you’ve got to immobilize them, because instead of taking their lives, that would give you more time.
The way you stood against them, with your cursed technique of energy manipulation, it gave them the hardest time since Toji, and considering they were both taking part in the fight now, ten years after and significantly stronger, just showed how much work you’ve put into your own development. And with pride you noticed, how strong both of your friends became as well. You countered all of their attacks, slashed away the curses and blocked the blues and reds, albeit it really was a matter of time and you knew that. And so, you pushed through, materializing in your hands weapons made from pure, solidified cursed energy, using swords and needles and creating armor around your body that effectively, shielded you from any attack. Your weapon was different from cursed tools. It was made only from energy, strong and unbendable, changing shapes and forms as you deemed it necessary, allowing you to use it in close combat and on long distances. Any curses Suguru summoned stood no chance against what you wielded, but the sheer amount of them was just short of overwhelming you. On top of that, Satoru’s constant offensive, his fists saturated in limitless abilities, the sheer strength of both bodies that were attacking you, slowly rendered you weaker. And it didn’t surprise you.
The end has come when one of the curses stopped you mid-way, engaging in a fight that distracted you enough for a hollow purple to reach your body. The blast threw you away as your body pierced through three buildings straight, through thick concrete bocks and hard steel reinforcements like it was tearing through wet paper and it’s only thanks to the full body coverage of your cursed technique, that it didn’t kill you on the spot. But it hurt. All of your body felt broken once you finally stopped, back pressed against the wall that still cracked underneath the impact of your frame hitting it. Blood covered your vision and a cough shook your body with painful wave overtaking your entire nervous system.
“So that’s the infamous hollow purple, huh?”, you muttered, leaning your head back against the cold solid behind you. There wasn’t much in your body that wouldn’t be fractured at least, you could tell without a mistake that your heart was still beating only because of the cursed energy that still circled throughout your frame.
Both men appeared in front of you, jumping from above – Suguru coming from one of his flying curses and Satoru, probably just teleported here.
“I’m sorry, y/n,” Gojo whispered, squatting in front of you and Geto followed his motion to level his vision with yours.
“’ts alright, ‘toru,” you muttered, feeling the dizziness taking the best of you. After the hit you took, you were certain not even a genius like Shoko could save you. “Sugu… both so strong.”
Exchanging a quick glance, both sorcerers sat down, on your sides, paying no mind to the puddle of blood underneath you. They took your hands, so small in comparison to theirs, now red and wounded severely, but the pain you couldn’t feel much of anymore.
“I’m sorry I didn’t take this mission for you. Back in our days. It was meant to be mine, but I was training,” Satoru confessed, squeezing lightly the fractured bones in your palm, reminiscing of the day that was the beginning of your end. The elementary. That day engraved itself in his memory as one of many days that seemingly mattered nothing. Yaga told him about the issue, the curse and fire in school for the youngest, but he brushed it off, focusing all of his mind on perfecting the last touches of his technique. He still remembers how sensei was mumbling profanities, but couldn’t care less because he was that close from teleporting.
“’ts okay, ‘toru.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there either,” Suguru added, his voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head against his shoulder, desperate to ease the heaviness. What Geto remembered from the day in question was that he had an issue with his own technique. Little difficulty, as he was absorbing one of the special grade curses he just caught. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t even that important, he could have fix this on another time and take the god damn mission, but instead, he declined. “I thought if I don’t take the job, Satoru will, but turned out, it got to you.”
“Sugu, ‘ts ok.”
“Remember how we used to sneak out the dorms to get ice cream in the middle of the night?”, Satoru changed the topic completely – a defensive mechanism to lighten up the mood, to prevent him from crying. And you hummed in response, lowering your heavy lids.
“And how Satoru got drunk after three sips of a beer? That’s when we all knew he’s the lightest head in the history,” Suguru added and faded images of how Gojo discovered that he cannot drink to save his life rushed to the front of your mind.
You had no idea how long it took, was it few minutes or merely few seconds, but you listened to both men rambling above your head, reminiscing of your school days and everything that you did together. Of every prank you witnessed that they took on poor first years, of every little mischief and menace they performed, following Satoru’s lead, because it’s always him who stood tall in the name of chaos. You were humming softer and softer, quieter and quieter.
Until you were not.
“And then we put those cupcakes in Nanami’s bed and-“
“Satoru,” Geto cut him softly, looking down at your stilled frame. At your frozen chest and softened features, sensing no more heartbeat. And Gojo turned his eyes towards you as well, taking in the last picture of you, who he loved as his little sister, even though there was no age gap between you and him. And then they both cried in silence, spending another hour with your dead body before gathering you and taking home.
* * *
October 31, 2018
21:18
Only word that could describe what was happening in Shibuya at this moment would be chaos. Pure disorder, people frightened and running, some unconscious on the ground and some other hiding from what was happening in the Shibuya station. Most of them couldn’t see it but felt the terror, saw the blood, smelled the death in the middle of which, two men were standing.
Both Satoru and Suguru, when they came down here to fight whatever the hell was attacking people, couldn’t move; their heads void of any logical thoughts as memories rushed to the fronts of their minds. Stunned to the core and frozen, they looked into the eyes of the person in front of them, distrusting their own vision. The person that wore the familiar look of you, the energy of you and what seemed like – the same cursed technique, and voice, and face, and hair, and everything. Not one thing betrayed trickery or deception as there you stood, facing them both with a smile on your face – one of those soft ones that had melted their hearts on the spot a decade before. Your features relaxed, genuine, borderline joyous as you breathed the air around them once again.
“What…?”, Suguru snapped first, forcing his own body to move and smacking his friend’s shoulder. “How?”
“Who the hell are you…?”, Satoru whispered, voice stuck in his throat as all of the information that his senses were receiving contradicted with what his soul was telling him.
“Aah? It’s been few months, but do you not recognize me anymore?”, your voice flew through your mouth, the very same gentle and bright tone they used to fall asleep to. “It’s hurting my feelings.”
“Cut it,” Gojo snapped, now putting more pressure on his vocal cords, a groan escaping his throat in effect. “Cut the bullshit, you’re not her. You cannot be her. Y/n is-“
“Dead? Yeah, that purple really messed me up,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders slightly and stepping forward. “I have to admit, restoring the body wasn’t the easiest of all.”
“Reveal yourself,” Geto took the defensive stance, ready to pursue with attack if needed and his curses floating behind him on standby. “You’re not fooling us.”
“Ah, how stubborn,” another laugh brightened your face, only now more menacing, more teasing as your dainty fingers reached up to gather the lose hair out of your forehead, revealing a line of thin stitches across your skin there. “See, you really did me a favor by burying her body oh-so traditionally. Isn’t that the procedure to burn every deceased sorcerer?” your mouth was moving, spilling the words interlaced with taunt as the, what looked like, thread was pulled out of the horizontal line above your eyebrows and soon after, grabbed by the hair, the top of your head was lifted, revealing the terrifying image of a brain. With mouth of its own.
“What did you do to her?!”
“Oh, I just took what you two threw away,” you replied, slowly putting the upper skull part down on its place, matching the lines as the thread went through the holes by itself, securing the head together. “And I have to thank you for your little sentiment. If not for that, I wouldn’t have my perfect vessel. Ah, but it’s sad, isn’t it? Such a young, pretty girl had to die so early, and more so, killed by her own best friends. What a waste to jujutsu community, don’t you think?”
Both the boys stood there in shock, guilt eating them alive as the salt and acid was being rubbed into the wounds that just opened. The scabs of the past were ripped away, revealing the gushing pain and Satoru growled in anger, realizing that once again, he might have been responsible for what happened to you. This time, Suguru kept up with him in terms of fury, feeling his own blood boiling in his veins, unable to watch your body being possessed like this, used like a toy.
“Y/n, I know you’re there-“ Gojo called, but got stopped quickly by another pilfering laugh.
“Oh, but she’s not. Her soul is long gone and dead. You made sure to have her soul dead, and you have to know I nearly teared up reviewing her memories when I took the body. Such a poignant story, oh, so heartbreaking.” The teasing had no end as more and more poisonous venom spilled through your mouth, contradicting the carefree and joyful tone of your voice.
“What makes you believe that even if you take her body, you can win here? We’ve defeated her already,” Suguru narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, you’ve won but that’s because she let you two won. Wasn’t that surprising how easily you finished her? A special grade? How she didn’t even try to dodge the hollow purple, like the little curse that she was fighting with was really that much of a struggle? Oh, don’t be silly, you two. It wouldn’t be that easy if she tried.”
“We won’t let you-“
“You must understand your situation. What you’re standing in is a special grade cursed object. A prison realm, and to say it simply, you’ve already lost,” you pointed at the floor, from where the four corners of a cube stretched into a mass of flesh, with an eye – giant and bleeding, staring at its target, as the next stage of sealing began before either of sorcerers reacted. “And what’s more interesting, the prison realm can seal only one person at the time, but with the incredible technique of my current host, I was able to fuel its capacity to two occupants, by manipulating the cursed energy it used. Marvelous!”
The cursed object began enveloping both men, rendering them helpless and immobile, as their cursed energy became unavailable for their use.
“We’ll save you, y/n, you hear me?”, Satoru yelled in unison with his friend and the lone tear rolled down your face, before your hand reached up wiping it in amusement.
“Gate close.”
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the-final-sif · 1 month
Note
Hi! Do you know if there is any reason why the union wouldn't contact Quackity/Quackity Studios directly?
Yes! I believe actually have a decent sense of this! Now, I'll be up front that I am not French, nor am I well versed in french labor unions, but I do think after some research I understand the confusion.
The short answer is because they don't want Quackity to contact the union directly. They want Quackity/the management to talk to the workers involved in the dispute.
The union is willing to be a go-between if need be, but what they actually want is negotiations between QSMP & the actual workers, and more particularly for workers to not be completely ignored for 3 weeks and then fired (what happened to Pomme's admin).
The workers in question have been messaging their management/contacts at qsmp and trying to get any kind of answer to no avail, and what the Solidaires union is doing is placing public pressure onto Quackity/QSMP to actually answer these workers and come to the table with them.
If you actually read the statements put out by the union, this is pretty clear,
(march 13th statement)
To avoid it, we invite Quackity to be proactive by opening a social dialogue with all their workers. A negotiated outcome remains possible: it will need to address monetary demands concerning work already performed and that to come, as well as claims to improve working conditions.
(march 20th)
Last week, we invited Quackity and other Quackity Studios executives to engage in negotiations with their workers. As far as we know, no contact has been attempted, either directly or via us. In fact, most of them saw all their communication media cut off without prior notice nor any further explanation.
If you actually read the call to action, the union is not asking to be contacted directly, although they are willing to refer. They're literally saying "fucking text your workers back and don't leave them on read for 3 weeks". That's what they wanted QSMP to do.
The actual role of the union in situations like this isn't to be directly negotiating contracts but rather offering legal counsel to workers and helping sue for unfair dismissal (something that this union has done to other game dev studios in the past including Ubisoft). They're tackling the unfair working conditions, and part of that is placing public pressure for Quackity to actually respond to the workers. It's up to him to actually reply to workers and make things right, and if he fails to do that, well he gets to get dragged in front of french court to justify his choices.
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captainmalewriter · 7 months
Text
Freak Accidents
Seth woke up in an incredibly good mood. Today was the big day and he knew it. He practically jumped out of bed as soon as he heard his phone alarm go off for 7 in the morning. Seth walked to his bedroom door, opened it slightly, and stuck his ear in the crack. He waited for a moment, listening, but as far as he could tell, the house was almost completely silent. The only noise he could just barely make out was the sound of his tío Ronnie sleeping down the hallway. Seth smiled, then closed his door again. Seth then opened the closet and pulled out a leather bound book he had stashed in the back. The book was called the Tonis Maximus. It was in tatters, ready to fall apart at any second, but he made extra sure to keep it safe. 
The Tonis wasn’t like any other old, beaten down book. While it seemed to be nothing special on the outside, it actually held a plethora of magical knowledge on the inside. Seth was able to get hands on it thanks to his job at the city library. The book was just sitting in the library archives along with all the other books nobody's checked out in years. It was dismissed as being just another collection of old myths and folklore. Nobody knew the great power the Tonis contained, nobody except Seth. He was digging around in the archives one day when he stumbled upon the book. Out of pure boredom, he decided to read a page or two out of the Tonis. From the moment he first laid eyes on it, a world full of supernatural phenomena was opened up to Seth. Realizing what kind of power the book contained, Seth decided to smuggle the Tonis out of the library and keep it all for himself. 
Since he first obtained the book several years ago, Seth has been studying up on its magical content. He’s tried his hand at turning objects into gold through alchemy, predict the future through clairvoyance, and he’s even communicated with souls of the dead! Although Seth was very limited in what he could do (casting magic was very draining on the body after all), he was still on his way to becoming a proper witch. And the best part? Nobody except Seth knew about the Tonis!
Seth sat on his bed and he opened the Tonis to a page he had bookmarked. The bookmarked page contained instructions for the latest ritual Seth wanted to master. Body possession. 
Seth read through the directions, then took off his clothes just as the book said to do. He then pulled out his phone and recorded a quick video of himself.
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“Alright, Seth here, I’ll be attempting the body possession spell again. Hopefully the third time’s the charm, but even if it fails again, I’ll just try again until I get it right. I’m staying at my uncle’s place in Mexico for the summer, so I got plenty of time to perfect this spell. Wish me luck!”
Seth finished recording his self-documentary and put away his phone. He paused for a moment to reflect on his previous attempts. The first time he used the spell was when he tried to possess his neighbor back home. While he managed to get inside his body, the bodybuilder had no problem expelling his soul right out through sheer willpower. The second attempt was no better. He used it to possess his old high school principal, but although he got inside his body, he couldn’t move at all! Seth was starting to grow impatient after having back to back failures. He wanted to get it right this time, and with tío Ronnie on standby, he was sure he’ll nail it down in no time!
Seth placed his hand on his doorknob and took a deep breath. He then mentally reviewed the ritual procedure one last time; first, get naked, next, find a vulnerable target, then, recite the incantation, and last, push your way into their body! It was a simple 4 step process, all Seth needed now was more practice in executing it. He hyped himself then stepped out of his bedroom, only to be mortified when he saw his tío Ronnie sitting on his bed. He was still visibly sleepy, but now he had a clear view of Seth in his underwear.
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“Seth?” Ronnie said in a low, groggy voice. “What are you doing up at this hour?”
“I- uhh…” Seth didn’t know what to say. He didn’t prepare for this scenario. His eyes darted around the hallway while he searched for an answer. “I was… I was on my way to the bathroom! Yeah, I just really needed to pee!!” 
“Dude,” Ronnie winced. “No need to yell, I’m right here. That’s cool, but why are you just in your underwear though? You never do that.”
“Uhhh…” Seth was scrambling again. He could hear his heartbeat getting louder with each passing second. He felt as if no matter what he said, Ronnie would be able to see right through him! “I, um, well-”
“You know what, Sobrino, save it.” Ronnie yawned as he threw himself back on his bed. “It’s too early for this. You do you, but just let me sleep a little while longer, okay?” 
“Y-yes! Goodnight Tío!!” 
Seth hurried into the bathroom and forced himself to pee just like he said he would. He sighed a breath of relief, not because he actually needed to go, but because he was so sure he was about to get caught performing magic. Thankfully, Ronnie’s inability to care about anything kicked in and saved the day. But even though Seth got scared shitless almost getting caught, it wasn’t enough to stop him from his mission! All he needed to do was wait a little bit for Ronnie to fall back asleep, then he could try again.
Seth went back inside his bedroom while he waited Ronnie out. Nearly a full hour had passed before Seth decided it was safe enough to try again. He crept into Ronnie's room and surely enough, he was sound asleep. Seth couldn’t help but grin as he watched Ronnie’s chest rise and fall with every snore. He took off his underwear, ready to attempt the body possession spell for the third time. 
He started by reciting the incantation from the Tonis out loud. As soon as he finished reciting the last word, a wave of nausea overtook Seth. Seth was ready for the lightheadedness to hit him like a truck, but no amount of anticipation could prepare him for how sudden it was. He nearly fell over, head throbbing with pain, but Seth was determined to see the spell through to the end. 
Hand pressing against his temple, Seth forced himself to stumble over to Ronnie. He then laid his nude body on top of Ronnie as carefully as he could. Seth was able to get on top of Ronnie without waking him up, and although it wasn’t his first time getting on top of a man or possessing someone’s body, Seth wasn’t prepared for how intimate it was. He could feel his junk resting on top of Ronnie’s. The thought of them touching dicks was enough for Seth to start getting hard, but he forced himself to shake off the bad thoughts and focus on his real goal. 
Alright… 1… 2… 3, now!!
Seth started pressing his body against Ronnie’s sleeping body. He knew if he wanted the body possession spell to activate, then he would have to push with everything he’s got! Magic never worked with half-assed effort after all. He pushed and pushed until finally- he could feel himself sinking into Ronnie. It began with his legs and feet. Suddenly, the feeling of Ronnie’s thick leg hair pressing against Seth’s smooth legs was gone. In its place, Seth felt his legs become consumed and enveloped by Ronnie’s thick legs. His feet aligned with Ronnie’s feet like a pair of well-fitting socks, then they began growing and stretching to match their new form. The rest of Seth’s lower half followed suit. His cock and balls slid inside Ronnie’s groin. Seth stifled a moan as it happened. The feeling of his cock slipping into Ronnie’s member like a personal dick sleeve made a rush of pleasure surge through him. That feeling only grew as his dick grew bigger and fatter until he had an identical member to his uncle’s girthy cock. Within seconds, the lower halves of their bodies had fully aligned with another. Seth tried wiggling his hips, and surely enough, he made Ronnie’s hips wiggle around. He could even start to feel the bedsheets underneath Ronnie’s/his ass. The body possession was going well so far. 
“Nrghh…” Ronnie murmured. Seth’s eyes shot open. It seemed like Ronnie was waking up, so he knew he had to hurry up and possess him before it was too late. 
Seth’s torso was pressing against Ronnie’s thick, hairy belly and chest. With some more pushing. Seth could feel his body go past physical limitations and slip inside its new vessel. Seth’s presence inside of Ronnie’s body grew with each passing second. He could feel Ronnie’s body heat combine and become his own. Their arms, chest, and gut aligned perfectly as Seth inserted himself in. His body then once again started growing. Seth’s thin frame was rapidly taking on extra body mass. He grew bigger until he had the same bulky build his uncle Ronnie had.
“Ahh fuck!” Seth accidentally squealed out loud. He couldn’t contain himself anymore after all the warm, body stimulation from transforming and possessing Ronnie. Only his head was left. While the rest of his body was already deep inside of Ronnie, his head was sticking out just above Ronnie’s chest.
“Hrm? What the-” 
Ronnie heard Seth’s outburst and lifted his head. Seth saw he was waking up and wasted no time slamming his head into his. He phased right through. The impact made Ronnie lay back again. He then let out a loud, guttural moan that echoed throughout the house. Except it wasn’t Ronnie groaning, it was Seth using his newly obtained voice after a successful body takeover. He had done it. Ronnie’s body was officially his.
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“IT WORKED! IT ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKED!!”
Seth was ecstatic. Not only was he able to enter someone else’s body, he was actually able to move around this time! The body possession spell worked! 
He jumped out of bed bursting with excitement, although he nearly fell over due to almost losing his balance. He immediately felt the difference in body weight between his body versus Ronnie’s body once he was on his feet. Seth took a moment to let himself get used to moving around with a bulkier body, then walked up to the mirror to admire himself. 
“Whewww… Looking good, Tío Ronnie… Or should I say, me?” 
Seth chuckled. He ran his hand across his face, letting his fingers stroke against the fine beard hairs he now possessed. Seth always shaved off his facial hair before it could fully grow in. He was amazed how it felt to have an actual beard on his face.
Seth looked down and smirked as he saw Ronnie’s body instead of his own. He laid a hand against his new hairy belly and gave it a shake. Seth was always a skinny twink, so to actually have a gut was a new experience for him (and one he was actively enjoying). He ran his hands up his torso, stopping at his chest to cup his squishy pecs. He then tried flexing his chest muscles and watched as he managed to get each pec to bounce up a little. Ronnie wasn’t a couch potato by any means, but also he wasn’t a full fledged gym rat either. The end result of being somewhere in between led to him having a larger, bulkier build with some muscle behind the girth. It was definitely a different body type than what Seth was used to, but it was one he was actively enjoying as he stripped down naked and continued admiring the newly possessed goods he now had thanks to the magic book.
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After he had successfully possessed his Tío Ronnie, Seth decided to keep practicing the body possession spell until he decided he had mastered it. He decided to step it up and try possessing a police officer the following day. Unfortunately, while Seth was able to sneak his way into the cop’s body, he was unable to take control over him. Seth was trapped as a mere passenger inside the cop’s body as he went about his day like normal. 
Seth had no idea what he was doing wrong. After failing to fully possess the police officer, Seth decided to try possessing Ronnie again. Surely enough, he was able to slip inside Ronnie and take control like it was nothing. Why was Seth able to possess his Tío Ronnie but not anybody else? None of the other spells in the Tonis gave Seth this much trouble! It was certainly an intriguing problem, and it was one Seth would have to solve alone. He had to keep his magical activities a secret; after all, who knows what would happen if someone found out… 
Over the course of the next few weeks, Seth focused most of his time and energy on figuring out how to master the body possession spell. He decided to try possessing a variety of men first. Although Seth’s actions were pretty limited due to the fact he had to be naked in order to perform the spell, he was still able to possess a dad, a bear, and another twink just like him. He wanted to see if it was a matter of a specific body type. But it was no use. No matter who he possessed, Seth just wasn’t able to take control over their bodies. Yet, despite all those failures, Seth was still able to possess Ronnie without a single problem! 
Seth was getting pretty frustrated. He just couldn’t figure out why he could possess Ronnie but not anyone else! Against his better judgment, Seth decided to entertain the possibility that the spell was limited to familial members only. However, even when he tried possessing one of his cousins, he still couldn’t possess them! Seth was truly stumbled, but even so, he refused to give up. He refused to accept that there was a magic spell he could not fully master.
Seth’s next action plan was to go all in with possessing his Tío Ronnie. He figured if he can’t fight against the current, he might as well swim with the current instead. Seth started possessing and staying inside of Ronnie’s for longer periods of time whenever he hopped into him. At first it was just overnight, but then it grew to a day, then two days and so on. Ronnie had mentioned to Seth that he began to feel weird. He couldn’t articulate the strange feeling very well, but he said felt as though he had become a bystander in his own life. Seth reassured him that it was nothing, that it was probably just the summer heat getting to him. Ronnie bought it, and Seth was glad he could keep possessing him without much worry. He needed to! Seth’s rationale was that if he could get accustomed to controlling a body that wasn’t his own for an extended period of time, then maybe he could use that experience to take over other bodies. Practice makes perfect, or so the saying goes anyway. 
Seth continued practicing the spell on Ronnie regularly. It had gotten to the point where Seth didn’t even need to check the Tonis for the lengthy cantation anymore. He already had it committed to memory with how many times he used it! Seth’s next goal was to possess Ronnie’s body for two weeks straight. After so much time possessing Ronnie, Seth considered it his second home away from home. There was almost nothing Seth could do with his body that he hadn’t already tried doing with Ronnie’s body. He was that comfortable now. 
The sun was setting on his 14th day as Seth came out of the gym, drenched with sweat after a good workout. Seth sat in the car and let out a heavy breath as he waited a minute to let himself cool down. Ronnie was a heavy sweater, way more than Seth was. And with all the body hair he had, the sweat would bead up and drip off of his hair whenever he worked out. Although it was an adjustment at first, Seth grew to love it. He never realized how good his uncle’s body odor smelled. He had a naturally manly musk that was incredibly potent and intoxicating to sniff. Seth couldn’t help but sniff his own armpits after he got all sweaty. He loved his scent, and he loved watching as drips of sweat hung off of the forest of hair he had in his pits.
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Seth intended to just take a quick sniff of his pits before driving back home, but he was getting too entranced by his own sweaty aroma. The tent forming in his mesh shorts was undeniable proof that he was into it too! Seth paused and looked down to see his protruding bulge. He shouldn’t be this aroused, but he knew he was the reason why he was already hard with just smelling his own sweaty pits. 
When Seth first challenged himself to possess Ronnie for 14 continuous days, he also swore to himself to not do anything sexual while inside his body. He was able to get by the two weeks without much difficulty. But of course, that also meant he was holding a 14 day load in. No doubt his body was itching for some relief, and although Seth was ready to just power through the last day, he couldn’t help but stare at the large, obscene bulge in his shorts. Against his better judgment, Seth let one of his hands slither down his body until it reached his bulge. His fingers wrapped around his rock hard member and gave it a light tug through the mesh fabric of his shorts. It was nothing more than a quick rub, but it was enough to get Seth squirming in his carseat as the warm pleasure of rubbing his sensitive, erect dick began to kick in. It was no use, he had to get off and he had to do it now!
Seth practically ripped his shorts with how quickly he took them off. His cock sprang out as it was released from its clothing imprisonment. Seth looked at his uncle’s fat cock with wonder as it stood upright in its full glory right in front of him. He was jealous that Ronnie had a view like this everytime he jerked off. Seth grinned as he wrapped his calloused palm around his new dick, fully relishing the fact that it was his turn to tug on that girthy member now. 
His breath became bated as he pumped himself. Seth threw his head back and let out several guttural moans from deep within his lungs. 
“Fuck yeah… You like that…? You fucking dirty bitch, yeah you like that huh…”
Seth kept talking dirty in between groaning and panting like a wild animal in heat. He loved using his uncle’s deep voice and heavy Mexican accent to talk dirty. Just hearing Ronnie’s voice come out of his mouth while he jerked off made his throbbing dick leak with precum. His thick, hairy thighs became soaked with precum and sweat as he increased the speed of his strokes. He had all the car windows closed and the AC off. In cutting off the air flow, it quickly became very warm in the car. Seth’s stolen body started sweating again, which in turn, made his sweaty musk come back. He grunted as he sniffed his pits, fueling his mind with an ecstasy-like sensation through the power of smell. 
“Arghh, fuckk…!”
Seth couldn’t last much longer. He was getting close. He picked up his stroking speed and within the next minute, ropes of warm cum shot out of him. Seth bellowed his moans as the endorphins rushed throughout his body. His fat cock was like a water gun as it shot load after load of sticky cum until both his body and the car was covered in jizz. Seth was red in the face and out of breath by the time he fully finished. After all the time and energy he put into researching the body possession spell and while trying to stay abstinent too, a good jerk off session was very much needed! But although Seth got the relief he didn’t realize he was desperately needing, his intense self-pleasure session caused the already finicky spell to act up again. Before Seth could even react, he was ejected out of Ronnie’s body. The sharp pain of getting literally torn out of Ronnie was overwhelming. Seth blacked out as a result.
…When Seth came to, he found himself lying on his bed. He looked around his room, letting the comfort of a familiar place ease his mind while he got his bearing together again. He had some mild body pain, but nothing he couldn’t manage. Seth was grateful that he came out relatively unharmed after a freak accident like that. 
He sat up in bed and realized he was wearing shorts now. Seth wasn’t sure how he got clothed or how he even got back home, but then he found a note on the ground with answers to his questions. It read: “Found you knocked out so I carried you to your bed. I also put on some clothes so you weren’t naked. Don’t go out drinking so much if you can’t handle it. Rest up, I’ll see you soon,” signed by Ronnie. 
Seth let out a heavy exhale after reading the note. He was horrified at the thought of his uncle finding him naked and passed out somewhere. However, as far as he could tell by the note, it seemed like Ronnie was still not the wiser about what his nephew has been up to lately. Seth could rest a little bit easier knowing his secret was still safe.
Seth picked up his phone, which was right next to the note on the ground. He unlocked it and checked the time. Apparently, a full 24 hours had passed since Seth was forcibly removed from Ronnie’s body. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but he figured it must’ve been pretty bad if it knocked him out cold for an entire day! 
Seth wanted to spend the rest of the day resting, but then his mind began abuzz with thoughts. He walked over to his door and peeked out of it, where he then saw Ronnie taking a midday nap down the hallway. The sight of his sleeping tío made the urge to possess him kick in. Seth’s initial thought was to just let both him and Ronnie rest before he tries casting magic again. But then the memory of the freak accident came back. Seth had magic accidents before, but they were never to that extent. The more he thought about it, the more he worried that he might have lost the power to possess people due to the accident. His mind became restless worrying about it. Seth wanted to ignore it, but he just couldn’t. He needed to know if he had lost his casting abilities for good or not.
“Okay… Just one quick possession…” Seth whispered to himself. “I just need to check if I can still possess people. Just five minutes, then I hop out and rest…”
Seth repeated his plan to himself multiple times. He knew this was probably the riskiest thing he had done with magic thus far, but with how great his anxiety was becoming, it quickly became his only option in his mind. Once he reassured himself enough, Seth took the first step towards his tío’s bedroom. It should be simple, just a quick in n out. He had already possessed Ronnie so many times after all, it should be easy enough. It should’ve been. But when Seth stepped into Ronnie’s bedroom, he was nowhere to be found. Seth tried looking for him but he couldn’t find him anywhere. It was like he had disappeared from the house!
“Maybe it’s for the best… I’ve been getting too reckless with magic anyway…” Seth mumbled as he walked back to his bedroom with his head dangling with defeat. He stepped back into his room and closed his eyes to take some deep breaths. However, just as he stood in the middle of his room, his door was slammed shut and standing in front of it was Tío Ronnie.
“Looking for someone, Sobrino?”
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Seth felt his heart drop into his stomach when he heard Ronnie’s voice. He turned his head slowly and was met with Ronnie’s staring daggers into him. Seth swallowed his breath. The air in the room had become nauseatingly tense. He wanted to get out of there, but with Ronnie standing right in front of the door, chances of escape were slim to none.
“Um… Hi, Tío…” Seth said meekly.
“Hey. Do you have anything you want to say to me?”
“Hm? N-No, I don’t think so…”
“Really. What’s this then?” 
Ronnie reached for something in his back pocket. He pulled it out and threw it onto the ground right in front of Seth. Seth’s eyes nearly jumped out of his head when he saw the Tonis Maximus. His breathing became shorter and labored. He knew more likely than not that he had been caught.
“Uhh what is that?” Seth feigned a laugh. Ronnie shook his head and took a step forward.
“Drop the act, it’s not cute. You’ve been acting weird ever since you got here back in July. At first I just ignored it, figured you just needed some time to get used to living here. But you never did. You just kept acting weirder and more secretive, almost like you were paranoid about something. Meanwhile, I started feeling weird too. I would wake up with body aches and random bruises, even when I don’t remember doing anything that would cause that. But I figured these two things just couldn’t be connected. Right, Seth?”
“But I was wrong, they were all connected. What really set me off was when I woke up in my car sweaty, naked, and covered in my own cum. How the fuck did I end up like that? Why would I end up like that? None of it made sense! But then when I got home, I found you passed out and naked in the backyard. I can handle one or two strange, out of the ordinary things happening, but this many? Nah. I can’t ignore that, I needed answers. And so, while you were passed out, I decided to snoop around your room for a bit. And surely enough, I found the one missing piece to the puzzle I needed tucked away in my beloved nephew’s clothes.” 
Ronnie pointed to the Tonis laying on the ground. Seth felt a cold shiver run down his spine, but remained quiet. 
“I’m not stupid, Seth. I know you’ve been using magic to take over my body. I couldn’t believe it at first- Hell, I didn’t want to believe it! But it’s the only thing that explains everything that’s been going on in this house ever since you arrived.”
“Wh-Wh-What are you going t-to do with me…?” Seth finally spoke up, albeit with a shaky voice.
“I’m glad you asked,” Ronnie smirked. He then got closer to Seth while taking off his clothes. Seth took a step back, but froze with sheer panic when he heard Ronnie recite the body possession spell. “Now it’s my turn to have some fun! You don’t mind, right? It’s only fair, after everything you’ve done…”
Ronnie charged at Seth. Seth was able to sidestep him, but as he ran for the door, Ronnie grabbed onto him and slammed him face first onto the bed. Seth got the wind knocked out of him, and even though he struggled to break free, Ronnie had him firmly pinned down. It was no use, he had lost.
“Alright! Now all I gotta do is enter you right!?” Ronnie yelled. Seth could feel something long and hard rubbing against his ass and knew immediately there had been a misunderstanding.
“Wait! You’re not supposed to literat- AH FUCK!!”
Seth was too late. He shouted out in pain as Ronnie shoved his fat cock into him with little to no warning. Ronnie then started to thrust his hips into Seth while keeping him pinned onto the bed.
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He was pounding away at Seth’s ass like an angry jackhammer. Seth could feel the weight of his big and strong uncle laying on top of him as he fucked him. The hair on Ronnie’s chest and stomach felt good brushing against his back while he thrusted into him. Seth was a well experienced bottom. If he wanted to have a good time, he knew not just any random top could get the job done. But with Ronnie’s girthy cock filling him up and his aggressive hip-thrusting rhythm, Seth found himself in heaven as Ronnie fucked him like a personal sex toy.
“Ah! Nrghhh… Fuck! Ahh!!”
“C’mon, open up that ass for me!”
Ronnie had Seth in a tight bear hug as he fucked him. Seth could feel his uncle really laying out all his body weight on top of him. Then, it happened. Seth’s moans grew louder and more intense as he began to feel his uncle phasing into his body. It was only his asshole at first, but then his entire body started getting filled up with the warm presence of a man as he got possessed. However, Seth was a much thinner man compared to Ronnie.
“Fuck…! Fuckk…! FUCKKKK!!! AHHH!!!” Seth cried out. He could feel his body getting stuffed to its physical limits as Ronnie pushed his bulky body into his twink body. Seth felt as if his skin was about to burst open with how full he was. But luckily for him, Ronnie was able to get inside of him without severely injuring him. However, although Ronnie had fully inserted himself into Seth, he was unable to control Seth’s body. The body possession was a failure. But to add insult to injury, Seth couldn’t move his own body either because he had become too bloated to move! It took several minutes but eventually Seth’s body was able to return to normal once it was able to adjust for all the extra body mass it had taken on. Seth was able to move like normal again, although thanks to Ronnie, he was no longer the same skinny twink as before. He had grown to match Ronnie’s body type.
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“Man! I look pretty good!” Seth said out loud. His voice had dropped several octaves in pitch. He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening- the body possession spell was clearly too unstable to follow any logic, but at least this time, Seth was enjoying the results!
Hey! What the fuck!? Why can’t I move! I want to possess you! Not just sit in here!!
Seth could hear his uncle’s voice inside his mind. He felt an itch in his head for a brief moment, but then it disappeared. But then Seth felt a sudden, burning sensation in his chest. It made him kneel over with pain. He felt as if every fiber of his existence was getting pulled and tugged on!
“Hey!! What are you doing!?” Seth shouted out in pain.
I’m going even deeper!! I’m gonna possess you no matter what, even if it means I have to take over your soul!!
Seth’s mind went into full panic mode. He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout at Ronnie to stop. He was going to depths even he had never explored with magic! There was no telling what was going to happen, but so long as Ronnie was inside of Seth, there was nothing Seth could do but endure it…
Seth was gasping for breath as he felt a cold wave flow over his body. The icy sensation began in his heart then spread throughout the rest of his body. No doubt Ronnie had made it inside of his soul by now. All of the major muscle groups in his body inflated with body mass. His chest filled in with firm pecs, his bicep and leg muscles became toned, his ass grew larger and well rounded. Hair began to sprout on every square inch of his body. At first, his hairy body resembled Ronnie’s, but the hair growth didn’t stop there. Arms, legs, pits, ass, pubic, beard, everywhere on Seth’s body had become a jungle of thick, black hair, far surpassing Ronnie’s body hair! 
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Seth groaned as he felt his cock stretching and growing. His cock thickened until he had the same hung, fat dick as his uncle. It grew out into an impressive 6.5 inches with some heavy girth to boot. His hairy balls hung lower than before as they began producing cum and testosterone en masse. By the time Ronnie finished possessing Seth’s soul, Seth had become completely unrecognizable. Seth and Ronnie had merged together to form a new man due to the soul possession that had taken place. The soul possession had taken traits from the 20 year old and 38 year old and combined them together to create the new 29 year old Ignacio.
Seth was breathing heavily as all of the bodily sensations he was experiencing began to subside. His vision grew blurry, but never recovered. Seth closed his eyes, panting for breath, and passed out on the ground.
Days had passed since Seth and Ronnie fused together. After the fourth day of being unconscious, the newly formed Ignacio woke up with groggy eyes. He picked himself up and let out a guttural yawn that nearly shook the house walls. He scratched his chest as he stretched, his fingers getting caught occasionally due to how thick his curly chest hair was. 
“Man… What the fuck happened to me…” Ignacio thought out loud. His voice had a baritone pitch and a heavy Mexican accent. Ignacio looked around and spotted a phone on the ground. He picked it up and opened the gallery through the quick start camera shortcut. The first thing on the phone gallery was a video of some shirtless young man recording himself. Ignacio played the video. 
“Alright, Seth here, I’ll be attempting the body possession spell again. Hopefully the third time’s-”
Ignacio grew bored of the video and deleted it. He had no idea who Seth was or what he was talking about, and didn’t care enough to find out. Instead, he cleared out the phone entirely and claimed it for himself.
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While cleaning up the room, Ignacio found a book titled Tonis Maximus. However, he couldn’t make sense of any of the writing inside. So he tore it apart and threw it into the fire pit, ready to burn at some point. 
Ignacio then proceeded to take a shower to get ready for the day. It was a big day after all, his brothers and sisters were supposed to fly in from the States later that day. Ignacio smiled thinking about his beloved nephews and nieces. He was sure they were just as excited to see Tío Ignacio as he was to see them. 
Ignacio hurried to get dressed and make his way to the airport asap. He was completely oblivious to all the reality-altering magic that made his existence possible, and with the Tonis Maximus destroyed, there was no turning back. Not that Ignacio really minded it; after all, he was living the easy life in his little city in Mexico, fucking men on the downlow and overjoyed whenever his family visited him. Life was as good as it could be now that magic was out of picture, permanently. 
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649 notes · View notes
bloobluebloo · 2 months
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OKAY so now that I have a moment.
On the framing of Imperialism in LoZ lore in general. This is a little long so I will put it under a read more.
So, I've often seen that, in the criticism of TotK's story and how it frames imperialism, that other LoZ games come up where it has been demonstrated that the Kingdom of Hyrule's hands are not clean. It feels like a lot of people bring this up with the argument that the lore was showing that Hyrule was morally gray. Yet, when you look at the framing of these misdeeds, that doesn't seem to be the case. The most pertinent example of this is the Shadow Temple in OoT where it has been insinuated that the Royal Family did torture enemies of the crown. There is also the rampant racism that is directed towards the Gerudo, the Sheikah having all but disappeared except the one Sheikah who also happens to be a servant of the Royal Family, the Kakariko well, the tomb of the Royal Family overrun by redead, and the Civil War for which no explanation is offered except that the end result was the unification of Hyrule. (I know there is a manga that explains that the Civil War bgean as some sort of dispute between the Goron and the Zora but, as I understand, it is not an officially licensed manga and thus not canon. Regardless.)
Twilight Princess seemed to be the most overt in its exploration of Hyrule's dark past. We learn that Hyrule had a habit of dumping its criminals into the Twilight Realm, ignorant or (or very likely) refusing to acknowledge that there were people living already there, that the Gerudo desert is devoid of Gerudo save for the Arbiter's Grounds which serve as a Hyrulean prison and execution ground, and how these people living in Hyrule's shadow not only held mistrust for the dwellers of light but actively hated them too.
Then you have A Link Between Worlds which, while Lorule isn't *exactly* Hyrule, it is framed as a reflection of Hyurle. It demonstrates that, if a kingdom is in a dire condition, that a reasonable solution would be to attempt to take the very artifact that would save it from another kingdom, even at that other kingdom's expense. Hilda is the antagonist but she is framed in a sympathetic light, as someone who had the best interests of her people at heart and would not have harmed anyone otherwise. (Funny how Ganondorf is never afforded that sort of grace. When he expressed that his homeland was plagued with drought and suffering the solution was to destroy him and everything he ever held dear. Moving on.)
The wilds era also explained where the Yiga came from, that they were the Sheikah that refused to bow to Hyrule's demands that they dismantle the very technology that they had built in service to it, that they were persecuted and chased out for their refusal. In the present, they are seen as a cult that are unreasonable, a joke, and meant to be dismissed and annihilated. These are but a few pretty obvious examples. However, my point isn't to prove that LoZ lore did demonstrate that Hyrule itself has perpetuated crimes of its own, but how they choose to frame said crimes. You, as the player, learn these things but you learn them in a matter-of-fact manner, and you never question it afterwards. This violence that Hyrule perpetuates is simply the cost of business in keeping a peaceful kingdom. Because Hyrule's intentions, just like Hilda's, supposedly stem from a desire to bring peace, order, and light to the kingdom, their violence is seen as something good and divinely ordained. As a result, when you learn about it, no matter how horrific it is, you are sort of made to simply store this knowledge in mind and continue with your efforts in preserving the status quo. The kingdom is restored to its original state at the end of your journey, and the people who have been victim to Hyrule's violence simply are meant to persist and accept that this is their fate, never given any sort of acknowledgement in how they suffered. Now, some may argue that, in Twilight Princess, the plight of Midna's people was acknowledged. However, the framing for their suffering largely puts the blame on Zant and Ganondorf, and doesn't quite make it so obvious that this entire mess is a result of Hyrule's actions over hundreds of years. It is there, subtle in the background, just like everything else we ever learn when it comes to Hyrule and its less than stellar deeds. In fact, one of Midna's big character moments is acknowledging that the dwellers of light were not as bad as she had imagined they would be which, was she wrong to have misgivings to begin with? Meanwhile, when someone like Ganondorf enacts violence, his actions are framed as not only evil, but selfish. There is absolutely no other reasoning for his violence beside his own selfish desire. Even in moments where he does reveal that his desire stemmed from overseeing a kingdom that was suffering, he is still treated as someone acting selfishly, as someone who did not act on behalf of his people. Why is that? Why is it that when Hyrule tortures and expels people that they are seen as acting in the name of the collective good, but when Ganondorf, a king in his own right, does it it must stem from selfish desire? A lot of people, for example, like to point to OoT Ganondorf as being very evil because of his actions against the Kokiri, the Zora, and the Goron, but did what he do really differ from what he had witnessed Hyrule do to anyone who opposed them? I do like the angle that some people mention, that he purposefully uses the title King of Evil in a more tongue-in-cheek manner because he is willing to acknowledge that what he is doing IS evil, unlike Hyrule who insists that anything they do is good.
The point I'm trying to get at here is that, while it is great that LoZ lore does recount of Hyrule's dark past, its framing isn't to depict Hyrule as a morally gray entity. It is framed to depict that any kingdom, or empire, in seeking order and stability, does have a "right" to react with righteous violence in order to maintain said order. So long as this violence is done in the name of preserving the empire, it is acceptable no matter how violent. Meanwhile, anything done that resists or opposes the empire, no matter how small, is seen as evil and must be eradicated, no matter what the reason. We know this for a fact because the majority of the fandom doesn't acknowledge that Hyrule has done any wrong, no matter what you learn about it. Princess Zelda is her princess and Link is her hero so how can they be wrong? This is also imperialist rhetoric.
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wheeboo · 7 months
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psycho | wen junhui
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SYNOPSIS. in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind. PAIRING. wen junhui x psychologist!reader (ft. nurse!seokmin) GENRE. dark au, mystery, angst, a tiny tiny subtle pinch of fluff, my very first attempt at a psychological thriller :> WARNINGS. LOTS of descriptions and talks about fire, cursing, mentions of death, a mention of cigarettes, descriptions of scars + burns, descriptions of injuries from glass, mention of blood, reader has a small habit of scratching at their arms, jun makes a suggestive comment if you take it that way WORD COUNT. 12.8k
notes: this is for the caratsland event and probably the most complex plot i've tried to execute so far jsdlkfdfsdf. thank you to @slytherinshua for reading this over for me and being my lil confidence boost 💕 feedback would be much appreciated!! pls remember this is all fictional and not at all an accurate depiction of a psychiatric facility!!
another note: also this turned out to be rlly dialogue heavy and jun asks too many damn questions in this istg lmao
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PRESENT DAY: 2023
"Dr. L/N, you have a new patient assigned to you in room 610."
You don't glance up from your desk. Instead, you finish reviewing the case notes of your previous patient and nod in acknowledgment to the nurse standing in your doorway, a friendly young man named Lee Seokmin who was a recent hire, as you were told. As you hear the drop of a patient file in front of you, you lean back in your chair and finally get yourself to look up.
"Thank you, Seokmin," You tell him with a soft smile.
Seokmin grins, teeth all-flashy and cheerful. "You're welcome, doctor," before dismissing himself back out of your office.
You turn your attention to the patient file now resting on your desk. As you start to read through the notes, you see it only contains some basic information about the patient: name, age, and a brief overview of their medical and psychiatric history. It's a starting point, but you know that the real work begins when you meet the person behind the paperwork.
"Name, Moon Jun... male, age 27..." You quietly study the file to yourself. The file mentions a history of severe emotional trauma and burn scars due to a fire, which immediately catches your attention in more ways than one. It also mentions extensive facial scarring and a history of therapy that completely lacked significant progress. A part of it is a familiar story in your field𑁋it isn't uncommon for individuals to experience setbacks in their recovery.
But there's something about this patient's history that tugs oddly at your heartstrings.
As you rummage deeper into the file, you come across a brief note from a colleague who had previously assessed Moon Jun, mentioning he had been withdrawn and non-communicative during his stay, displaying anti-social behaviour, sometimes even having random bursts of aggression when approached. You take a mental note of all this in your head.
Closing the patient file, you rise from your chair and adjust the white coat draped around you, before leaving your office. You make your way through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the psychiatric facility. The environment here is all-too familiar to you; you've spent years navigating these halls. With every door you pass, there hides a different story; a different struggle; a different battle.
Upon finally reaching the room, you hesitate outside the door for a moment. The anticipation and curiosity surrounding you mixes with a touch of uncertainty, almost like fear, as they often do when meeting a new patient. You've been doing this for nearly ten years, and the feeling isn't new.
Then as you come back to your senses, you lift a hand, give a gentle knock to the door, before entering the room. It's dimly lit inside, the curtains ominously drawn on the windows to conceal the sunlight peeking through. A figure sits at the edge of the bed, back turned to you, and the hood of his hoodie pulled low over his head worn over his patient gown.
"Moon... Jun?" You call out softly, trying not to startle him.
He doesn't respond immediately, shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice. After a moment of silence, he slowly turns his head to acknowledge your presence. Half of his face is obscured by a mask, leaving only his dark eyes visible.
"Doctor," he replies gravelly.
His gaze lingers on you as you take a seat in a chair that sat against the wall next to the bed, keeping a respectful distance from him. You've encountered many patients who have initially shown distrust or apprehension, but there's an intensity in the way he looks at you that sends something chilling on the surface of your skin, especially when it's the only part of his face that you can see.
You try to break the ice with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moon. My name is Dr. Y/N, and I'll be conducting our therapy sessions during your stay here. Please, make yourself as comfortable as you can."
He slowly nods, but his eyes never leave yours. The mask covering his face makes it difficult to read his expressions.
"Before we begin," You continue, clearing your throat. "I want you to know that this is a safe and confidential space. Our conversations are private, and I'm here to help you in any way I can𑁋to help you heal. You can share as much or as little as you're comfortable with."
You see the way his gloved hands clench together in his lap.
"I can't be healed," he mutters quietly, voice trembling as you sense the hopelessness in his tone. You've heard this phrase many times before during your career.
"I understand that you may feel that way right now," You reply, as soothingly as possible. "but I believe that with time and the right support, healing is possible for anyone. It's a journey, and I'm here to walk it with you. It's a process, and you don't have to go through it alone."
His gaze remains fixed on you, and the unsettling tension in the room lingers, almost palpable that you feel like there's an imaginary barrier between you and him that was enough for you to see this small part of him, while he can see all of you.
"Would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself? How do you feel coming here today?" You ask, hoping to begin the process of establishing some sort of connection.
He uncomfortably shifts a bit on the bed.
"I never wanted to come here," he says flatly. "They say this is a place of healing, but I've seen enough doctors like you. They prod and poke, dig into your past, and in the end, nothing changes. They don't know what I've been through, what I've seen. The scars, everything, they don't heal."
The words that leave his mouth are bitter and sour, yet you could only get yourself to nod sympathetically.
"It's not uncommon for people to feel that way, especially if they haven't found the right support. I want you to know that my approach is different. I'm here to listen, not to prod or poke." You glance down at the file in your hand and flip it over so that you couldn't see any information about him. "You're in control of our sessions, Mr. Moon. We can go at whatever pace you'd like."
He finally seems intrigued by this, leaning in ever so slightly, eyes devoid of colour that seemed to bore straight into yours.
"Control?" he repeats, voice still carrying a hint of skepticism.
You nod once more. "Yes, control. You get to decide what you want to talk about, what you're comfortable sharing, and at what pace. If there are topics you'd like to avoid or take your time with, that's completely okay. We can work together to create a safe space for you."
He seems to be taking in your words. "And... what if I choose not to talk at all?"
You offer a reassuring smile. "Then that's the option we can settle with."
The minutes that tick by seem dreadingly slow, and there's a light that dances in his eyes from the singular light fixture hanging above that almost resembles that of a flame. It doesn't go away even if he blinks, and it draws you in. Just a tiny bit.
"However, is there anything specific you'd like to share with me today, Mr. Moon?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "Any thoughts or concerns you'd like to discuss?"
For a moment, it seems like he's about to speak, but then he shakes his head ever so slightly, his hooded gaze still locked onto yours.
"Very well then." You let out a very subtle, shaky breath. It felt almost relieving. Silence it is.
That's what most of the session has come to𑁋sitting in this peculiar silence, feeling his eyes burn a hole right through you. It isn't until the end of the hour that he calls out toward you just as you were about to his exit his room, and you turn back to face him.
"Can you heal me, doctor?" he asks quietly, almost begging in a way. It's unnerving.
All you do is give him a faint smile.
"I'll try my best, Mr. Moon."
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FLASHBACK: 2013
"...All I could see were orange and red flames, and the smoke was hurting my eyes. I couldn't breathe𑁋just barely, but it hurt. It was painful. They were getting larger and larger and the screams louder and louder. Everything was gone."
"And what did you do while the fire kept growing?"
"I watched it all happen. I watched it all burn in front of me." The words had sent an eerie shiver up your spine, forcing the pen in your hands to stop mid-sentence. There was a singular pause that had come to follow, a harrowing silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, a subtle quiver in his voice that you barely caught. "There was nothing I could do."
You clicked your pen, its sound echoing in the tense silence. The room seemed to grow colder with each moment that passed.
"But it's all my fault, right?" he had asked, tone so innocent that it itches a part of your heart uncomfortably, but tugged in a way you felt determined to take root of the grief in his chest and rip it apart. And for a moment as you looked in his dark eyes, over his youthful features and guilt-ridden face, you felt that inkling feeling again. "I killed them. It's all my fault."
"None of this is your fault. Blaming yourself for something you couldn't control is a heavy burden to carry," You reassured him calmly, as gently as you could, knowing the power that your own words could cause for someone seemingly lost, troubled, and young. "You saved yourself. You're alive; you did what you could to survive, and you're here to heal. I'm here to help you heal, okay?"
Your reassurance was met with a fleeting smile, but it hadn't quite reach his eyes, yet his gaze peered directly into you as if searching for something in you𑁋you could only think it was hope. Hope that he wanted to heal just as much as you wanted to help him heal. It's your job. This was why you took this job in the first place.
You needed to save people, either from the demons in their minds or the traumas that haunted them. This boy had lost his entire family in a housefire, for God's sake. This was your duty.
"It's not my fault," he had said, and met your eyes, as if searching for approval. "It's not my fault."
"That's right, Hui." You offered him a faint, assuring smile. "It's not your fault."
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PRESENT DAY: 2023
"Excuse me, Dr. L/N? Is it okay if I sit here?"
You glance up to see Seokmin holding up a tray of lunch food, returning you from your zoning thoughts. You shoot him a kind smile and a nod, motioning to the empty space across from you for him to have a seat. Usually, you frequently have lunch alone in the comfort of your office where you can tend to yourself in solitude, but today, you might as well welcome the company.
Seokmin sets his tray down and takes a seat, and for some minutes, there's a comfortable silence as you both begin to eat. He seems to notice the tired lines to your face, but he doesn't press on about it.
"Have you been settling in well?" You ask him suddenly, breaking the silence.
"Huh, me? Oh." He's a bit taken aback, cheeks flushed, and you give a soft chuckle. "You could say that. I wanted to try something new after working bedside for the longest time. I didn't think that psych would be a field I was interested in𑁋look where I am now, though."
"That's the thing about this field." You let out a sigh, giving a knowing smile. "It has a way of drawing you in, even if you didn't plan on it."
"It was definitely an experience when I was in nursing school," Seokmin comments eagerly. You felt as if you were talking to a close friend rather than another colleague, and it feels rather refreshing. "and doing ICU was already draining of itself."
You take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. "I can only imagine. It can be quite rigorous."
Seokmin lets his gaze wander over you curiously. "How long have you worked here, doctor?"
"Please, you can just call me Y/N. Unless we're working."
Seokmin smiles. "How long have you worked here then, Y/N?"
You pause for a moment. Thinking about the amount of years you've worked in this field hasn't been a particular thought to come up𑁋time just seems to fly by when it's the only job you've been dedicated to for most of your life.
"Hm, ten years now? I believe this month will mark my ten years here."
Seokmin's eyes visibly widen in awe before responding, "Wow, that's... You must have really seen a lot of things. I really envy you, doctor."
Your smile fades just a bit; it's barely noticeable, though you still hope that Seokmin doesn't see it. You can feel that feeling gnaw at your skin again, something inexplicable, like a sense of foreboding that seemed to be creaking open a door you believed to have firmly shut for good.
But you choose to push it aside, just like you always do, dismissing it perfectly with a mutter of a thank you. It's ironic, considering this is what you do𑁋normally you would tell patients to confront their past and face their fears, but when it comes to your own, you tend to bury them.
There's an itch that crawls up your arms, and you knead at it through your sleeves with your fingers.
Maybe you can get used to this company, though.
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"Do you have any kids, doctor?"
The question comes after a click of your pen, and you glance up from the vitals sheet in your hand to see Moon Jun sitting criss-crossed on the bed, gloved hands sitting on his lap and pupils peering curiously over you.
"No, Mr. Moon," You reply, keeping your tone soft, somewhat nonchalant. "I don't have any children."
He tilts his head slightly, almost as if he's studying you like a specimen under a microscope. The mask on his face makes him appear even more enigmatic, his dark, even charming eyes the only feature you can discern.
"No family at all?" he asks. "No husband, wife, or children to go home to?"
"I live alone. My work keeps me quite occupied."
Some silence passes.
"Alone," he repeats, almost to himself, as if savouring the word in his mouth. "Don't you ever feel... lonely though?"
His question hangs in the air like a dark cloud. It's an oddly personal inquiry, but you decide to address it professionally. "Loneliness is a feeling that many people experience at different points in their lives. It's a normal human emotion, and it's something we can work through."
His gaze narrows, and his gloved fingers twitch in his lap. His mask conceals most of his facial expressions, but you can sense an intensity in his gaze.
"I've felt lonely my entire life, you know," he points out as you sit yourself down in the chair in front of him just like all your previous sessions. Despite the considerable space between you two, sometimes you swear you can feel him breathing right down your neck. "Even being in here too, it.... feels like a different kind of loneliness. A place where they put people who are broken. Like me."
"I can assure you that you are not broken, Mr. Moon," You tell him reassuringly. "How are you with meeting the other patients here? Are there any you have been interacting with since our last session?"
He leans back slightly, his gloved hands still resting on his lap, and his gaze seems to drift momentarily as if he's recalling something.
"I think... they are scared of me, to be honest," he answers, eyes crinkling just slightly as if there was a smile playing on his lips right below his mask. "But... perhaps they're all just lost, confused, and weak. They pretend to get better, but they're just putting on a show. It's a bit pathetic, don't you think?"
"It's not uncommon for people in this environment to have their guard up," You tell him. "Sometimes, it's just a reaction to the unfamiliar. Everyone here is dealing with their own battles, just as you are, Mr. Moon."
He chuckles lowly at that. It's the first time you've heard such a sound like that leave his mouth, like a dissonant note echoing in an otherwise quiet room. His masked face gives nothing away.
"Maybe it's because of this stupid mask on my face," he says, touching the mask with the tips of his fingers. "It makes me look like a criminal or a monster."
"The mask might be intimidating to some," You acknowledge, crossing your arms together. "but it doesn't define who you are."
His eyes narrow slightly, though there's that twinge of amusement as he crosses his arms together, mirroring your body language.
"You're not scared of me, right, doctor?"
You meet his steady gaze, his own searching yours from behind the mask. There's a moment of silence, something unspoken lingering in the air.
"No, Mr. Moon, I'm not scared of you," You respond, keeping yourself composed. "I'm here to understand you."
He leans back, that hint of amusement still present on his face.
"I think you would make a great parent, doctor."
The unexpected compliment catches you off-guard for a moment, making you briefly at a loss for words. There's a slight blush that crawls up your cheeks, and you clear your throat, trying to regain your composure.
"Thank you." You give an appreciative smile. "That's very kind of you to say."
You see that flickering flame in his pupils again. It's a fire that seems to burn brighter with each passing minute, and it leaves you both intrigued and uneasy.
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FLASHBACK: 2013
"I told you not to call me that!" Hui exclaimed angrily in frustration, his face turning a shade of red as he glared at you. The sudden outburst had caught you off-guard, and for a moment, found yourself at a loss for words. His face contorted with volatile frustration, and his hands clenched into fists.
"I apologise," You said calmly, doing your best to defuse the situation. "I didn't mean to upset you. What would you like me to call you then?"
He took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself down. His shoulders slumped, and his expression softened slightly.
"Just call me by my nickname, okay?" he urged, voice a tad less sharp now, but it's still enough to pierce. "Hui is fine. I hate my name! It's ugly. I want to forget about it𑁋I want everyone to forget about it! That name doesn't exist anymore, got it?"
"Of course, I understand." You leaned back forward in your chair, slow and cautiously. "But I want you to tell me why you stole crayons from Chaewon earlier in the rec room."
Hui only scoffed in response. "It's not that big of a deal. I only took a few from her. She'll forget about it."
"You took something from someone else without permission, Hui," You explained matter-of-factly. "That's a violation of their personal space and boundaries."
Hui's focus darted around the room for a moment, lips pursed and fingers messing around with the frays of his hospital gown. Then his gaze hardened once more as he landed back on you. His silence was almost unsettling as it stretched between you, but you remained patient, waiting for him to offer an explanation.
"Fine, whatever," he muttered, finally relenting. "I wanted them for a project I'm working on, that's all."
"A project? What kind of project?"
"Back in group therapy... They wanted us to create something meaningful or something𑁋something that means a lot to us, and I needed the crayons for it. So I took them from her."
It took a couple of moments before you nodded, acknowledging his explanation. "I see, Hui. It's important to express yourself through art or projects, but it's also important to respect others' belongings. Try asking for what you need instead of taking it without permission, okay?"
Hui's response was a simple, noncommittal nod, eyes holding onto yours a moment too long.
"Now, the next time you're back in the rec room, please say sorry to Chaewon whenever you see her, okay?"
Again, all he did was nod begrudgingly, his expression showing a hint of reluctance.
"Good." You gave him a proud smile. "That's all for today. Tell me about your project next session, alright?"
You felt his eyes on you as you grabbed your case notes and stood up, before leaving him in his room. And even though you were out of his room, you swore you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you.
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PRESENT DAY: 2023
You find Moon Jun sitting on the edge of the bed once entering inside of his room, gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. The mask obscures his face as usual, but his dark eyes lock onto yours the moment you walk inside. The dim lighting in the room casts long shadows on the walls, and you find yourself drawn into those shadows as you take a seat across from him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Moon," You greet warmly, taking your usual seat across from him. "How has your day been so far?"
He doesn't immediately respond. There's a hint of curiosity in his hooded eyes, but it's devoid of warmth. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but you've learned to pay attention to the smallest details when dealing with patients over the years. It still sends a shiver down your spine.
"Just been like any other day in this place," he finally replies coolly.
You offer a polite smile and proceed with the session. "Is there anything specific you'd like to discuss for today's session, Mr. Moon?"
He thinks for a moment, tapping his gloved fingers lightly against his knee. The rhythmic sound seems to echo in the room.
"Are you interested in mythology, doctor?" he asks, and the question was certainly something you didn't expect him to ask. He continues, "I've always had an interest in it growing up, so I was wondering if you did too."
You chuckle quietly. "I wish I could say the same, but... I guess I found it intriguing at times."
"Surely you must have heard some stories though." He giggles at this, unclasping his hands together and propping himself right at the edge of the bed so that he's leaning forward, his masked face closer to yours. The dim light makes it hard to see his features clearly, and the shadows in the room seem to grow darker, more pronounced. "Are you familiar with the creature, the phoenix?"
You pause for a moment to think, before giving a slow, careful nod. "I've... definitely heard of it."
"The phoenix," he murmurs, voice a soft, hypnotic cadence. "It's a beautiful creature of rebirth and fire, isn't it?"
The mention of fire makes you shift slightly in your seat.
"Mr. Moon, I'm not entirely sure where you're𑁋"
You're interrupted as he leans even closer, his masked face now mere inches from yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intense and unsettling focus. The shadows play tricks on your vision, making it feel like the walls are closing in on you.
"I just find it fascinating," he continues. "The idea of burning away the old and rising from the ashes anew. It's like a fresh start, a chance to be reborn. Do you believe in second chances, doctor?"
You swallow the lump in your throat. His intense gaze, shrouded by the mask, seems to hold you almost captive and confined to the chair you sat on, and his words seem to echo in the confined space.
"I... I believe that everyone deserves a chance to heal and grow, Mr. Moon," You respond carefully, trying to regain your composure. "But it's also important to work through the past before embracing the future."
He tilts his head slightly, as if considering your words. The room remains eerily quiet, the shadows deepening around you.
"Do you believe people can truly change?" he asks, voice softer now, almost pleading.
You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question sitting right on your chest.
"I believe that change is possible, Mr. Moon," You reply gently, choosing your words with care. "People have the capacity to grow and evolve, and to make choices that lead to a more positive outlook. But this varies from person to person𑁋if they are willing to put in the effort to do so."
For a moment, the tension in the room seems to dissipate slightly. The shadows on the walls appear to retreat, and the dim light feels less suffocating.
"Doctor," he finally speaks, voice low despite only being the two of you in the room, like he's telling you a secret. "what if... those flames of the past have burned too brightly, leaving nothing but ashes behind?"
You furrow your brows. "I-I would say𑁋"
"It's what happened to me, doctor, don't you understand?" he snaps suddenly, standing up from the bed to step closer to you. "You can't possibly understand what it's like to fucking lose everything, to watch it all burn in front of your fucking eyes! This is why I did this𑁋I put my life into the phoenix. I burned what was left of me, and now I'm here, in this absolute hellhole."
"Mr. Moon, I need you to calm down, please𑁋"
There's a flash of anger that shoots through his eyes, the flame burning in his pupils brighter than before. The atmosphere grows tense in the snap of a finger, and you instinctively stand up to bring yourself in the direction of the door to the room, maintaining a safe distance, acutely aware of the limited space and the fact that you're alone with him. There's an emergency button within reach where you can call for help whenever needed.
You can't get yourself to respond, feeling frozen from the way you can feel your heart pounding anxiously in your chest from his close proximity. He takes a step back, his hands trembling slightly as he clenches and unclenches them. The room seems to regain a semblance of normalcy, but the tension still lingers in the air, and you still can't move.
You watch as he cowers back towards the bed, leaving you standing next to the door. You felt as if you've been holding your breath, like you were submerged underwater and your fight or flight instincts were kicking in.
"You won't give up on me, right, doctor?" he asks, and the way he says it so weakly, naively, makes your head spin. "You can trust me, right?"
You smooth out your white coat, placing yourself back down in the seat across from him anticipatingly.
"I... I trust you," You mutter meekly. "I won't give up on you."
The corner of his eyes crinkle again. He's smiling. You can see it through the mask.
"How lovely," he states sweetly. "We're on the right track, then."
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"Y/N𑁋I mean Dr. L/N, are you okay?" Seokmin's voice comes up from behind as you walk yourself towards your office, feeling completely and utterly scatterbrained from the events of the past hour.
As Seokmin's voice reaches your ears, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. You turn to Seokmin and offer him a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes, but seeing him in front of you already makes you feel a tad bit better.
"I'm fine, Seokmin, thank you." Your voice carries a hint of exhaustion and residual unease. "Just a challenging session, but I'm okay."
Seokmin just nods, but as you were about to turn around, he says, "If you... uh, ever need someone to talk to or anything, just know I'm here for you, okay? It can be tough, I've heard."
You smile gratefully at him, this time genuinely reaching your eyes. It feels like a breath of fresh air talking to him.
"Thank you," You tell him. "I might just have to take you up on that someday."
Seokmin scratches the back of his neck shyly and returns your smile with a warm one of his own. "Well, you know where to find me."
You stand still for a moment as Seokmin begins to dismiss himself away to resume his rounds, but just then, you feel a sudden idea pop up in your head.
"Seokmin, wait!" You exclaim after the man, who immediately turns around to the sound of your voice, peering at you worriedly. "Actually, there's something... Could you do me a favour?"
His eyes light up curiously. "Sure, what do you want me to do?"
You step up closer to him, looking around to ensure no one else was listening in.
"Can you help find me more information about the patient in 610?" You lean in, lowering your voice to a hushed tone. "I'd like to know more about his background, more than what's in his file right now, or just anything that might help me understand him better."
Seokmin raises a brow briefly but nods either way. "I'll see what I can do, Dr. L/N."
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FLASHBACK: 2013
The rec room was buzzing with activity as you entered, giving a chance for patients to interact with others and engage in activities outside of their rooms. Laughter, conversation, and the occasional burst of youthful energy filled the air; it’s a striking comparison to the somber atmosphere of the individual therapy sessions you usually conducted.
As you glanced around to find Hui, you finally caught sight of the boy sitting alone at a table in the very corner of the room. He appeared seemingly engrossed on the piece of paper in front of him, an array of crayons sat on the table. His focus was so intense that he seemed completely oblivious to the world around him.
You approached Hui's table with a gentle smile. "Hui, how are you doing today?"
Hui looked up from his drawing, eyes meeting yours briefly. "I'm fine," he replied coldly. "Just drawing."
You glanced down at his artwork, which depicted a scene of fire and destruction. The flames consumed a house, while stick-figure people screamed in the windows, their tiny, distorted faces twisted in agony. The only colours there would be that of the orange and red gigantic flame that enveloped the jagged, blackened lines of the house.
"That's... quite a powerful drawing, Hui," You commented as you took a seat right next to him. "What made you choose this subject?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, eyes not leaving his paper. "It's just what I felt like drawing."
"Is this supposed to represent what happened to your family?"
Hui only continued to mindlessly colour his drawing, his crayon moving across the paper with deliberate strokes.
"Maybe," he replied stoically. "I saw it all happen, but I couldn't do anything."
You studied Hui's face for a moment, but his expression remained blank, his focus entirely on the drawing. His mien was calm, almost eerily so, in comparison to the disturbing scene of destruction right below his fingertips.
"Can you tell me more about what you saw, Hui?" You asked him.
He glanced at you briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly that you couldn't be sure if you had imagined it.
"I already told you," he pressed. "I saw the fire, and I watched everything burn. It wasn't my fault that it happened."
You nodded, acknowledging his words, and continued to watch him work on the drawing.
"Did you ever feel sad about what happened, Hui?" You questioned.
Hui's face only remained impassive as he answered, "It won't change anything."
You could only think about all the trauma he must have endured𑁋from losing his family and being the sole survivor of such a ruinous event, to having to deal with all the emotions at once that it must feel almost numbing inside of him.
"Did anyone help you during or after the fire, Hui?" You prodded calmly.
He still didn't look up from his drawing. "Some firefighters came, and they put out the fire. But they couldn't save my family."
You felt that pang of sympathy for Hui as he mentioned the firefighters' futile attempts to save his family all while he was waiting right outside the house. It was clear that the traumatic experience had locked his emotions away behind a stoic, desensitized façade.
"I'm sorry to hear about your family, Hui," You said softly. "It's completely okay to feel sad or angry about what happened."
Hui's hand paused briefly in its colouring, but he didn't look up. You glanced down to the paper, noticing that he was drawing something in the corner, almost appearing like some sort of bird, like some sort of crow or cardinal.
"I don't feel much about it anymore. It's just the way things are."
Your eyes drift from his drawing, concern deepening, but you understood that emotional numbing was a common coping mechanism for trauma survivors. In a way, it's like a protective shell around oneself to prevent further pain. The emotional scars ran deep, and sometimes, it was easier for them to keep their feelings at bay rather than confront the overwhelming grief and sorrow that lurked beneath the surface.
That is what you attributed with Hui𑁋what you always had when he first came here. And you promised him patience and that it took time to fully heal.
"I'll leave you be now, okay?" You stood up from the seat, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.
Hui doesn't respond, still engrossed in his drawing. You took a step back, leaving him to his artwork, and decided to check on some of the other children in the room for the time being.
You swore you could feel his eyes on you as you walked away.
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PRESENT DAY: 2023
Your eyes are practically lasering holes right through the manila folder of Moon Jun's file.
The file only houses the basics𑁋his medical history, therapy notes, and observations from the staff. But there's something missing, something you can't quite put your finger on. His background information is limited, and there are no records of any family members or relatives listed. It's as if he appeared out of nowhere.
A knock on your office door makes you jump, and you quickly open your eyes to see Seokmin standing there with a stack of papers in his hands, concern etched on his face.
"Sorry, did I startle you?" he asks, stepping inside your office.
You offer a tired smile. "A bit, but it's okay. Come in."
Seokmin walks further into your office, closing the door lightly behind him. He takes a moment to study your expression, clearly noticing the exhaustion and frustration on your face. You let out a sigh and lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples with your fingertips as Seokmin sits down right across from you.
"So, I tried to do some digging, as you asked." Seokmin places the stack of papers on the desk. "It wasn't easy to look into his medical history, but I think this might be important."
You straighten up in your chair, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lean in to examine the stack of papers Seokmin has brought. However, what you expected is to see information regarding him, but instead, you see news reports.
"I... I don't know if any of these can be related, but I found a few unsolved cases of arson over the years. It might be the cause of his facial scarring," Seokmin explains. "I think one of them happened at an orphanage, another at an abandoned warehouse nearby, and another at a small church a few miles from here."
You carefully pick up one of the articles and start to read the details. The article mentions a fire at an orphanage several years ago that resulted in the tragic loss of lives. The incident remained unsolved, with no clear cause identified. Then you come across another article about the fire at the warehouse, and it, too, was a case that had perplexed investigators, leaving it unsolved.
"...and I also think there was one about a family from around... nine? Ten years ago? I didn't read all the details of it, but I believe only one survived𑁋"
That's when you feel your heart drop all the way down to the ground, into the ground at that point, eyes widening as the gasp that leaves your mouth cuts Seokmin off. You're already standing up, fingers trembling, as you frantically shuffle through the articles he had provided for you.
"Where can I find that one? Is it here?"
Your adamancy surprises Seokmin as he scrambles through the papers before taking one out and offering it to you. You take the article from his hands. The paper is slightly crumpled, and the ink is faded, but the headline is still clear: "Family Tragedy Claims Lives, Sole Survivor Emerges."
The only survivor was a teenage boy, whose name was redacted from the article for privacy.
But you know exactly who it is.
The article describes how he had been found by the firefighters, huddled on the lawn outside the burning house, his eyes blank with shock. Authorities had attempted to investigate, but the case quickly went cold due to lack of evidence. It also mentions that the boy had lost his entire family that night and was assumed to be too traumatised to provide any coherent information about the fire's cause, which later caused him to be sent to a psychiatric facility due to the trauma.
"Doctor, what is this?" Seokmin interrupts your thoughts as he brings up another paper from view.
You glance up from the article to meet Seokmin's gaze, the urgency in his eyes mirroring your own. He unfolds it carefully, and as your eyes scan the headline, your heart sinks further: "Tragic Fire Engulfs Local Psychiatric Facility."
As you read through it, you swear you feel the same flames dancing up the skin of your arms. This article reports a fire that occurred exactly ten years ago at the very psychiatric facility where both you and Seokmin currently work. You were there that night. It was only your first year as a psychologist at the facility, still learning the ropes of your profession. The memories you've long tried to suppress come flooding back.
The sound of alarms blaring, the acrid smell of smoke, the frantic efforts to evacuate patients, and the feeling of utter helplessness as the flames consumed parts of the facility. It had left scars on your soul, scars you thought you had buried deep over the years.
That boy was one of your first ever patients.
Your arms are itching again, and you can almost feel the searing heat from that night a decade ago.
"Y/N, are you... are you okay?" Seokmin asks. You can see the worry in his eyes, but you're not sure if you can answer his question.
You swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to find your voice. "Yeah, I just... Sorry, reading this article, and..."
That's when Seokmin gets it. "Were you..." His eyes lower down to where one of your hands is clawing anxiously at the sleeves of your arm, and he immediately takes away the article from view. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't know you were..."
You manage a weak smile as you bring your arms back down to your side, hugging yourself instead. "It's alright. You didn't know."
Seokmin doesn't seem entirely convinced, for a moment feeling stuck on what to say. "Are you sure that you're up for this? We can always𑁋"
"Yes," You say boldly. "It'll be okay."
You take a deep breath.
"I'll be okay."
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"You seem troubled today, doctor."
In the dimly lit room, Moon Jun's observation is shrewd as always, whose calculating eyes seem to analyse every twitch of your expression as you both sit in the room together, right across from each other, with him hovering over you while you felt feeling like a cowering mouse trapped in a cage.
You flash him a faint, grateful smile. "I appreciate your concern, but let's focus back on you now, shall we?"
"Uh-uh, doctor," he taunts, crossing his arms together and shaking his head dismissively. Even in the darkness of the room, you swear you see his lips curl into a smirk under that damn mask of his. "If I'm not mistaken, you said at the very beginning that I have control over what I want to talk about in our sessions. I realise I hardly know anything about you! Isn't that funny? I consider you a dear friend, you know. You're the only person in this place who even makes the effort to talk with me."
The weight of his words suspend like a dense fog. You can hear the faint hum of the ventilation system, see the way the lone light fixture in the room seems to flicker intermittently. It plays tricks on your perception, making his features appear to morph and shift, all while his eyes are practically dissecting you.
"Friendship... is built on trust," You reply cautiously. "But our sessions are designed for your benefit. My role here is to help you, not the other way around, and my personal life is not relevant for this."
He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you can feel his intense focus like a physical weight. You're caught in the gravitational pull of his eyes, his relentless gaze that seems to strip away your defenses. "But, doctor, how can you truly help me if you don't open up a little?"
He tilts his head, the mask inches away from your face, his eyes boring into yours.
"We could be more than what we are right now, couldn't we, doctor?" he whispers, feeling his cold breath against your skin even through the mask, and you close your eyes. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before𑁋"
"Stop! Please!" You yell out unexpectedly, hearing nothing but the unsteadiness of your breaths and the echo of your own voice in the dim room. Your eyes snap back open; he's not hovering over you, and the disturbing scenario you had just experienced was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.
Instead, Moon Jun is calmly seated away from you, watching you intently from the bed. There's a curious glint in his eyes, one that suggests he's found your reaction to be rather... entertaining.
"Doctor, you do seem to be quite troubled today," he remarks almost playfully, voice dripping with amusement that shoots goosebumps up your skin. "Seeing things, aren't we?"
You can't quite find the words to respond, and the sensation of his cold breath against your skin still lingers in your memory.
"You must think about me a lot, day and night possibly, if you imagine such things," he teases, and you feel the way his words crawl under your skin. "You probably wonder what lies behind this mask of mine, don't you? You're a special friend𑁋perhaps you deserve to see it."
You watch the way his gloved fingers toy with the edges of his mask, and for a moment, it seems like he's contemplating something. The room is so silent that you can hear your own heart pounding in your chest.
Then without warning, he reaches up and slowly starts to peel off the mask, revealing the face hidden beneath. Your breath catches in your throat as his visage is unveiled.
His face is tainted by a network of scars, the skin tissue looking raw and discoloured. The scars extend from his jawline up to his cheeks and forehead, giving his face an almost grotesque and nightmarish appearance. Some scars look like they were caused by something sharp, while others appear more like burns. There were also some that seemed almost... fresher than others. His lips, once hidden by the mask, are twisted into a smirk that sends shivers down your spine.
"You wanted to see, didn't you, doctor?" he asks, voice low and taunting. "You wanted to know what's behind this mask."
You can't tear your gaze away from his disfigured face, and you're overwhelmed by a mix of curiosity, horror, and a strange fascination.
"Are you surprised, doctor?" he continues, voice now tinged with mockery. "Do I look like a monster to you?"
You can't seem to respond just yet, eyes still peering over him as if trying to discern the features of his face. There's this wave of familiarity that seems to hit you, as if you've seen those certain details before. A nagging feeling tugs at the corners of your memory like a half-forgotten dream.
You squint, trying to connect the dots between the disfigured face before you and the dim recollection buried deep within your mind. The way the scars twist and curl, the faint traces of burn marks𑁋it's all so eerily and hauntingly familiar. You swear you've seen those eyes before. He watches your expression closely, as if he can read your thoughts, and those eyes that seem to follow your every move, your every thought𑁋
And then it hits you. It hits you like a freight train on the tracks that was beyond avoidable. It hits you like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your conscience, leaving wreckage to be abandoned and forgotten forever in its wake. It hits you like a thunderstorm tearing apart a peaceful, sunny day.
"Hui...?" is all you manage to choke out.
Images from the past flash before your eyes𑁋Hui, the young boy you once knew, whose face was marked with troubled innocence and a haunting vulnerability that had drawn you to him in the first place. You had watched him grow, had nurtured the fragile trust he had placed in you. You recall your early sessions together, hearing all the painful details of the fire that had torn his life apart.
His smirk deepens, and his eyes gleam with an uncanny satisfaction.
"Hui died ten years ago, doctor," he says with a cold, haunting certainty. "He died in that same fire that set this place ablaze. I'm sure you remember that very well, don't you?"
The room seems to close in on you, and the memories of that fateful night come rushing back like a torrential downpour. The fire, the chaos, the screams. It had been a nightmarish scene, etched into your memory like the faint scars that plague your arms from that very night.
But before you could respond, you felt something vibrate in your pocket. It's the end of your session.
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FLASHBACK: 2013
The fire alarm rang.
It was blaringly loud, completely jolting you out of your chair in the silence that carried through your office. Your heart raced as the panic had begun to sink in, the blood-red light of the alarm painted the muted colours of your office walls with a surreal, macabre-like glow, and the acrid scent of smoke was beginning to fill your lungs.
You reached for the door handle, but your trembling hands fumbled, and it wouldn't budge. You tried again and again, the cold sweat on your palms making it even more difficult to grip.
"Wh-What the hell?" You shakily muttered to yourself, before bringing your fists up to pound on the door. "Hello? Someone help me! I'm in here! Someone!"
The panic intensified as the fire alarm continued its relentless wail as you continued to pound on the door. Smoke started to seep in from the edges of your office door, and you could feel the heat of the flames approaching. You coughed, choking on the sharp fumes that stung your throat. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Fuck, fuck, what do you do? How the hell was the fire spreading so fast?
You were trapped. You were going to die.
The windows! You remembered the windows. Desperation drove you to the large window on the wall. Instinctively, you grabbed a chair and used it to break it, the sound of shattering glass ringing in your ears, the shards grazing against your skin and the palm of your hands, making you let out a sharp gasp. Blood trickled from the cuts on your hands, and as you peered down to the ground below, you realised that you were too high above the ground for a safe jump.
The fire was only getting closer and closer.
As you hesitated by the shattered window, a muffled voice from the hallway reached your ears. "Is anyone in there? We're trying to get you out!"
Your eyes widened as you stumbled back to the door. "I'm in here! Please help!"
"Step back! We're breaking down the door!"
You stepped back from the window as much as you could and away from the smoke, feeling the flames inching closer. Your vision blurred as you fought to breathe, eyes stinging with tears from the dry air.
Moments later, a loud crash resounded through the room as the door burst open. A group of firefighters rushed in, their protective gear making them look like otherworldly figures emerging from the haze. They quickly located you, wrapped you in a fire-resistant blanket, and led you to safety.
Once you were outside, an emergency medical team checked you over for any injuries, plastered up your arms, and administered oxygen. You were shaken, bruised, and suffering from smoke inhalation, but you were alive. Somehow. In some way.
Then, you found your mind drifting back to Hui. Did he manage to get out safely? Where was he? Questions swirled in your mind as you watched the firefighters work tirelessly to contain the blaze. God, he must not be in the right state of mind after witnessing yet another fire himself.
"Excuse me..." You weakly called out to a paramedic, voice barely a whisper.
The paramedic turned to you, concern etched on their face beneath their protective gear. "Yes, are you okay?"
You swallowed hard, barely getting your words together. "I was in there... in the building. I have some patients... uh... Do you know if they made it out? I need to know if they're safe."
The paramedic exchanged a glance with another passing colleague, eyes hidden behind their mask, before returning back to you and shaking their head.
"We're still searching for survivors and dealing with the fire," they explained. "We can't give you any information right now. I'm truly sorry. I'll let them know to keep a lookout. Can you describe them for me?"
You described what your other patients and what Hui looked like as much as you could, and the emergency worker took down all the information before walking away to tend to others.
The silence that followed was suffocating, perhaps even more than what you endured inside the building, and you found it difficult to hold back tears of frustration from flowing down your face.
As the smoke gradually dissipated and the flames were brought under control, the once-deafening alarm was reduced to sporadic chirps and the occasional distant rumble of falling debris. The scene around you was one of destruction, merely charred remains of a place that was filled with hope and healing.
You glanced down at your trembling, injured hands and arms and see the cuts from the shattered window, yet the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart, and the fear and guilt that gnawed at you. You lost patients whom you had sworn to protect, had sworn𑁋no, promised to heal.
It was only when the search and rescue teams began to wind down their efforts that you realised the search for Hui had come with no results. All of your other patients were safe, but him. There was no sign of him anywhere, as if he slipped off the face of the earth.
A firefighter approached you some time later, his face covered in soot appearing both exhausted and empathetic.
"I'm sorry," he spoke, voice heavy with regret and defeat. "We've searched every area we could access, but we haven't found anyone else. The fire was intense, and... I'm truly sorry."
His words hit you like a hammer blow, and you felt your heart sink even further. You had dedicated your life to saving others, and yet it seemed that you might have failed to save one.
"Thank... Thank you for trying," You mumbled to the firefighter, nodding in acknowledgement. "And thank you for risking your lives to save us."
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PRESENT DAY: 2023
The clouds outside obscure any hints of sunlight, and the overcast sky casts a sad, grey hue over the world outside. The room feels dim and lonely despite the overhead lights. You try to ignore that particular gnawing feeling to your skin as you sit at your desk, waiting for your next session with Moon Jun to start. It'll happen anytime now𑁋perhaps the more you anticipate will make time go by slower.
However your thoughts are interrupted by the soft knock at your door, and you look up to see Seokmin standing there. He offers you a warm smile as you motion for him to come inside, and you swear you see small ray of sunshine break through the clouds outside at the corner of your eye.
"Hey, how're you holding up?" he asks. "I wanted to check up on you."
You tilt your head a bit giddily at the sight of him. "We just had lunch break together, Seokmin."
He rolls his eyes at this, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. "I know, I know, but I... Well, is there a rule here that says I can't see you twice in one day when we're not working?"
Your lips purse together thoughtfully. "I guess not."
"Good." He grins, but it's quick to fade once he takes another look at you. "so... how have you been?"
The soft concern in Seokmin's voice is almost like a comforting hug for your ragged nerves. Normally it's your duty to ask your patients those kinds of questions, not the other way around. You offer him a tired but appreciative smile as he settles into the chair across from your desk. It's a rare moment when the roles are reversed, even if it's just for one short minute.
"You look tired," Seokmin points out, and it makes you let out a chuckle, even though it's tinged with weariness.
"You have a good eye, Seokmin," You reply playfully, and he blushes at this. "Do you want to know what I've been dreaming about the past few weeks?
Seokmin thinks about it for a second, then his eyes widen slightly.
"Is it... the fire?" he queries, hoping there's that small chance he might be wrong.
Your steady gaze meets his.
"Yes," You admit casually. "It's always the fire."
Or specifically, it's the fire and the guilt that you weren't able to save anyone, and it had been eating away at you ever since that fateful day.
His face softens at this, then he feels himself hesitate for a brief moment, before slowly reaching out to place his hand over yours on the desk. His touch is warm and reassuring, and you can feel the genuine concern in his eyes.
"I-I'm sorry you have to go through that, I wish there was a way I could... you know, stop you from reliving those kinds of things." His words make your lips twitch upwards, and he knows he's done something right. He finishes your smile with one of his own. "But... you're not alone in this. Just know I'm here."
"You've been helping me this entire time, Seokmin," You assure him. "If anything, I should be the one thanking you."
The weight of all the memories and unhealed scars left behind still cling to you like shadows. But in the presence of Seokmin, the burdens seem a little lighter, the darkness a bit less suffocating. The room seems a bit less lonely as you both sit there, just like all the days you eat lunch together where you seem to look forward to seeing him sit with you, and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall serves as a reminder that time keeps moving forward.
Before you know it, it's as if you've been struck by a gong that you could only hear, and you knew it was time to move forward with your session. You take your hand away from Seokmin as you stand up, and he follows suit.
"Y/N, wait, um..." Seokmin stops you before you could leave, and you turn back to him. "If something bad happens, or if you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out to me, even outside of work. I... want to make sure you're okay."
His words warm your heart, and you shoot him a thankful look.
"I know I can," You say, while opening the door to the outside of your office. "Thank you, Seokmin."
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When you enter inside room 610, you spot Moon Jun sitting on the chair that you were supposed to sit in, his posture relaxed and arms crossed almost impatiently. He didn't wear the mask on his face, and he appeared confident, somewhat smug. It was the only other chair in the room. The other place for you to sit would be... the bed. This isn't how a typical therapy session begins.
"Doctor, I was just thinking about you!" he exclaims excitedly. "Please, go ahead and sit down on the bed. I thought it would be great to change things up a little. You wouldn't mind, would you?"
You hesitate for a moment, glancing between him and the bed. Maintaining your professionalism, you make your way to the bed and sit down, folding your hands in your lap. Something brushes against your leg for a moment, you look down to see a sheet of paper sitting next to you, and a plethora of crayons resting on top.
"Please bare with me for the mess, I was busy drawing before you came in," he tells you, voice almost cheery and... delighted?
As you sit on the bed, his demeanour only raises more questions than answers. He appears unusually relaxed, and his eagerness is disturbing. It's unlike him.
"Of course, that's fine with me," You tell him casually.
There's a grin that spreads across his scarred face, and it brings an uncomfortable twist to your stomach, but you don't let it show, though at this point you feel that he can sense your nervousness, your unease, knowing there's history between you two you thought to have burned away in the back of your mind.
Yet it had all come back just like his reemergence back into your life𑁋into something more sinister.
"He talks to me sometimes, even though he's perished in the flames," Jun begins, grabbing the paper right next to you. "You remember his drawings, right? Back in that big, bright room... where beneath all those smiles of the other patients was just... hopelessness."
Then he flips the paper over, and you find yourself peering at a drawing of flames, and the uncanny similarity to Hui's artwork all those years ago cannot be ignored. You see the same vivid depiction of flames, the swirling reds and oranges dancing on the page, and the black lines of its remains. But more than that, it's the emotions that these drawings evoke, the overwhelming sense of dread, and the traumatic memories that it unsheathes. He's the personification of the fire that scarred you all those years ago.
You feel a lump form in your throat. "Hui..."
"I-I am not Hui!" he wails out unexpectedly, voice shaking with anger. His hand grips the crayon so tightly that it snaps in his grasp, the colour streaking across the paper. "Hui is dead, remember? Burned by the flames?"
"If you're not Hui, then who are you?" You ask almost pleadingly.
His fingers toy with the broken crayon as he leans in closer, his disfigured face mere inches from yours. His gaze pierces through you like a knife, and in the dimly lit room, the shadows play tricks on his scarred face, making his disfigurement seem even more malformed.
"The phoenix, don't you remember, doctor?" He chuckles lowly. "It's a creature reborn from the ashes of its own destruction, risen from the flames just like me. Rebirth and fire, doctor! You haven't been paying attention, have you?"
You sense the panic seeping inside you, causing your heart to race. His words send shivers down your spine, and you realise that he's explaining with a belief that goes beyond mere delusion, beyond repair. The scars on his face are only a fraction of the damage done. He claims to have risen from the ashes, taking on a new identity, giving him this motive of... cleaning the world with fire.
Cleaning the world...
...with fire.
Ashes of its own destruction....
"You..." You slowly rise up from the bed, the room suddenly feeling too confining. The door seemed like it was miles away, and you find your breathing shaky and unsteady. "You were... you caused those fires, didn't you?"
His eyes fixate and narrow down on you as you stand up from the bed, and a sly smile spreads across his scarred face. His gaze is intense, and you feel like you're trapped. You recall the sessions you had with him years ago that you thought were leading him toward healing. But now, you face a man who has fully embraced a twisted ideology.
"I didn't cause those fires," he responds with eerie calmness. "I simply set things in motion."
"You𑁋You killed innocent people, you were the one... from ten years ago... You𑁋"
"They were all lost, meaningless, and I brought meaning to their lives. What's so hard to understand?" he deadpans.
"You killed your family," You state. "How can... how can you justify that?"
"Hui killed his family, I didn't," he claims, crumpling up the piece of paper in his hands. "Hui started all of this, I'm merely just a follower. He was misunderstood his entire life, and you promised him healing, which you didn't fulfill."
The room feels like it's boiling you alive, and you're stuck in an endless maze of his twisted delusions. There's a sense of helplessness as you try to reach through to the man behind the scars, the one who once sought your help, but you fear that he's too far gone.
"Jun, this isn't the answer. The… the phoenix is not real,” You plead, your voice trembling. "Hui was troubled, yes, but violence is not the path to understanding or redemption. It only leads to more pain and destruction."
His expression only hardens as he throws the crumpled up piece of paper on the floor, gloved hands forming fists at his side.
"You think you can help people by sitting in your comfy chair, listening to their problems, and scribbling notes on a fucking notepad." He scoffs annoyedly, leaning back in his chair. "You're just like all the others, doctor, so dumb and worthless. You never understood... You say that you do, but you don't."
And just as you were about to speak, you watch him pull something out of the pocket of his patient gown. You squint your eyes, and a gasp shudders out of you when you notice what's in his hands.
A lighter.
"You people are just so gullible, all while you're thinking you're helping," he mutters, flicking the lighter on. The tiny flame dances at the tip, casting bizarre shadows across his scarred face. "When in reality, you're laughing behind our backs with your stupid cigarettes and your fancy degrees. You wouldn't believe the things you can find in a place like this. It's amazing what people leave lying around."
There's an arrow that penetrates through your heart, an arrow of betrayal, helplessness. How can he think of you this way when you dedicated your entire time to helping him heal all those years ago? How can he, of all people, not see that your intentions were always to provide support and understanding?
You can feel the room heating up, not just from the small flame but from the growing tension. Jun's eyes are locked onto the flickering fire of the lighter, and his words are plagued with bitter resentment. You attempt to scurry to the door, but he blocks your way, nearly shoving the flame of the lighter in your face.
"Don't you see how beautiful this is, doctor?" he utters in a trance-like state, as if the flame was hypnotising him. The orange and yellow hues reflect onto his soulless eyes. He moves the lighter dangerously close to your face, and you can feel the searing heat radiating from the tiny inferno at the tip of your nose.
Your heart pounds like a beating drum, beads of sweat form on your forehead, and your breathing quickens as panic threatens to engulf you. But his gaze only remains possessed on the fire, as if he's being consumed by the very flames he holds in his hands.
"It's so beautiful how something so small can hold so much power," he murmurs, voice barely more than a whisper.
"This... This isn't the way to find meaning or healing," You respond, slowly backing away from him, trying to create some distance between the flame and yourself. "Fire and destruction only lead to more suffering, more pain. It's not the answer, Jun."
For a split second, something flickers in Jun's eyes, as if a fragment of his former self tries to break free from the shackles of his obsession. But it's a fleeting moment, quickly devoured by his fixation on the fire.
"There are... There are people who want to help you. Don't you remember all of our sessions together? All the... all the breakthroughs we had? You were making progress, Jun. You were on your way to healing." You bring your hand up as if in defense, watching him closely as he steps the tiniest inch closer to you. "I... I want to help you, I always have. I..."
He stares at you, and for a moment, it seems like your words might be getting through to him.
"Let me help you, Hui."
But just when you think your words may have struck a chord, his face contorts into a menacing grin and you can see the flame reflect onto his eyes. The last fragile thread of sanity that seemed to linger has snapped.
"You failed Hui that night, just like you failed me." He chuckles darkly. "You couldn't save us. Do you really think you can save everyone, doctor? Do you really think all the patients you've helped all these years are any better off now?"
Now, you found yourself speechless, a tight grip around your throat from his words.
He laughs coldly, waving the flame in front of your face once more. "You're so blind, doctor. You want to heal and save everyone, but you can't save me, and you can't save yourself. I can see it in your eyes."
He’s getting in your head, you know he is. He's trying to loosen your grip on whatever reality is𑁋attempting to unravel in your mind that you were, in some way, responsible for the events that had occurred over the years, forcing you to succumb to the guilt placed on your shoulders. You've never dealt with someone so deeply rooted to their own twisted reality. You can't reason with him.
It's impossible.
But you refuse to be the victim of your own past just like you had made yourself to be.
"Junhui," You call out urgently, and the use of his real name brings a harsh, foreign taste to your tongue. You notice the way he flinches slightly to it. "That person still exists inside you𑁋I-I know it does. Please, let that part of you come back. I'm here to listen, to understand, and to help. No matter what you believe."
The flame continues to sway at the end of the lighter, yet his face remains deformed into that unsettling grin, but your words seem to have given him a momentary pause.
"You think you can bring him back?" he hisses, bringing the flame away from your face, stretching his arm out toward the side. "He's dead, doctor. It's too late."
And with that, he tosses the lighter in the direction of the bed, and a cascade of flames quickly engulf the sheets, the crayons, the drawing, everything. Horror sets in as you watch the fire rapidly spreading, consuming the room, and overhead the fire alarm screams into action.
"Isn't it beautiful, doctor?" he guffaws as the flames devour the room, eyes wide with awe. "It's so perfect... So beautiful..."
Nothing but Jun's laughter fills the air as he watches the flames lick up the once-white walls with a maniacal fascination. The flames flicker and crackle loudly, casting shifting shadows on the walls of the room. You dart towards the door, but the intense heat and smoke make it nearly impossible to breathe or see, and you cover your mouth and nose with your hand. Coughing and vision disoriented, you stumble and hit the floor with a thud, weakly pounding your fists against the door.
"Someone help!" You shout desperately, the words barely escaping your mouth. "Someone help! I-I'm in here! Anyone, please!"
The room is suffocating you whole. You can hardly even see where Jun is amidst all the smoke, yet his laughter still rings in your ears, fogging away all your thoughts. You keep pounding on the door, voice hoarse from shouting, skin tingling with heat, but there's no response from the other side.
So this is how you're going to die, You think to yourself, leaning back against the wall like you were accepting your fate, and the thought makes you chuckle at the irony.
Time seems to stretch into eternity. But just when it feels like all hope is lost, the door bursts open, and a strong hand reaches in, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room and into the chaotic corridor. In the corridor, the fresh air is quick to fill up your lungs. You gasp for breath, your heart racing, while the fire alarm continues to blare.
It's Seokmin who pulled you from the room, and you can hardly make out his face from your stinging, watery eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you as you both stumble away from the dangerous room, mixing with the rushing crowd of staff and patients all being guided outside to their safety.
"Y/N, are you okay?! Stay with me!" Seokmin continues to pull you through the corridor, shielding you from anything that you might run into.
You only manage a weak nod, still coughing from all the smoke. Your mind is racing, and you can hardly tell where you were going, but you trust Seokmin's guidance as he leads you further away from the scene of the fire. The sounds of sirens and shouting surround you, and the sight of the smoke floating out from the room you just escaped haunts your thoughts.
When the brightness of the outside hits your eyes, you catch your breath and fall out of Seokmin's grasp and down to the ground. Firefighters and police officers quickly brush past you and into the building as Seokmin pulls you up once more to lead you in the direction of the paramedics and ambulances.
"Here, sit down." Seokmin places you on the stair of the ambulance and helps you out of your white coat before wrapping a blanket around you. "Can we get some help over here?"
A paramedic approaches, checking you over and providing oxygen to help clear your lungs of all the smoke you inhaled. Your heart is still pounding in your chest as you sit there, trying to process what just happened.
Seokmin places himself right next to you, scanning over your features closely. You look over at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile, pushing away some disheveled strands of hair so he could properly see your face.
"You're going to be okay," he assures you, rubbing some comforting circles on your back. "Just take deep breaths and try to relax. They'll take you to the hospital to make sure you're alright."
You give him a nod, feeling a bit more security from him than the blanket draped over your shoulders right now. The two of you sit there for a few minutes, calmly watching the chaos begin to subside. It didn't look like the fire damaged much in terms of the outside of the building.
"I'm going to see if I could help around," Seokmin says, standing up. "Just stay here, okay? I'll be back before they take you to the hospital."
Just as he begins to walk away, you hesitate for a second, before calling out his name, "Hey, Seokmin?"
He turns back to you, a look of concern in his eyes. "Yes? Do you need something?"
You reach out your hand toward Seokmin, silently gesturing for him to come closer. He approaches, and without a word, you pull him into a tight hug. You feel him freeze in your grasp, before his arms fully encircle you in return, tightening the hug, and for a moment, the world around fades away as you hold onto each other. You can feel his heart beat a bit faster than normal against your chest, but you don't acknowledge it, and neither does he.
Eventually, you reluctantly pull away from the hug, but you don't let go of Seokmin's hand just yet.
"Thank you," You whisper. "for everything."
His gaze softens as he looks at you, before glancing away shyly. It makes you chuckle.
"No need to," he tells you. "I'm... I'm just happy you're safe."
The two of you stay like that for a moment, with you closing your eyes to steady your breathing while Seokmin continues to hold your hand, and you can feel the tension in your body slowly easing.
Seokmin's smile is warm, and he squeezes your hand gently. "I'll be back soon, okay? Just hang in there."
With that, he leaves your side to assist the emergency responders, leaving you seated on the ambulance's stairs, wrapped in a blanket. Your brows furrow together, trying to make sense of the situation and all the events that just transpired. The fear, the confusion, the mania that gripped the lost man back in that room𑁋it all swirls within your mind. The lingering scent of smoke fills your nose, and you swear and you can still feel the heat on your skin even though the air was cool outside.
As you sit there, lost in thought, suddenly feeling disconnected from the world around you, you find yourself questioning the nature of your profession and everything you ever believed about it. Could you have done something differently? Were there signs you missed that might have prevented this particular descent in delusion? Was he right, and you were blind this entire time? Not just for him, but for everyone you've helped?
Were you really this dumb and worthless?
Or perhaps was it impossible to save him this entire time...
...and he was too far gone?
That hefty burden of guilt, both for your inability to help him in the past and in the present, weighs heavily on your shoulders. What's for sure is that this will forever be an image tainted in your mind, scarred just like the man who brought destruction and chaos to your life today, and that particular day ten years ago.
You don't know how long you sat there until Seokmin returns, yet when he comes up to you, his face appears disturbed and... paranoid?
"They've got the fire under control. It didn't spread much farther than the room," he informs you, catching his breath. "It seems like nobody else was hurt."
"That's good to hear." Your eyes roam over his features, taking in the tense expression to his face. "Is... is everything okay? How about..."
He sits down beside you, expression still apprehensive. You can see the flicker of concern in his eyes, and the remnants of the chaos from moments ago are still evident in the way he holds himself. His gaze meets yours, and you notice a small shift in his demeanour, as if there's something he's struggling to express.
Seokmin darts his attention around, as if making sure no one was listening in, before taking a deep breath and leaning in.
"They... They said they didn't find his body in the room," he mutters, and it's so quiet you hardly make out what he says. "It's... It's like he escaped."
Your heart drops. A sinking feeling settles in your chest. Dread washes over you at his words.
"W-What?"
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another another note: sorry if u expected some sort of romance w jun (which would kinda be weird for the story tbh), but feel free to imagine whatever u want w our dear seokmin. cgrats on making it to the end of the longest oneshot i’ve made so far on this blog 😍🫶
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