#the boy is so messed up the narrator needs to be unreliable

[flowercrowngods]

Oh, I see. Crying throwing up. Crying throwing up while it's hot. Hot on my floor and time travel steve hurts. Hurts in the best way where you understand. Thank you for sharing him.

*screeching goblin noises*

#hhhhh he!!! he the boy!!! lost and alone and grieving and mourning and traumatised #barely able to breathe. barely able to see to hear to speak to be aware of his surroundings #because the human brain is not build to withstand this much pain without a break. the human brain is not made for time travel #it cannot even imagine death and the end of all things. how is it supposed to live through the end of all things twice?? #how is it supposed to prevent them?? he’s just a child. a boy. one look at him and maternal & paternal instincts go ham #we see it with joyce in chapter three we see it in hopper again and again. #the boy is so messed up the narrator needs to be unreliable #he’s. he can’t. he can’t look in the mirror anymore. he can’t talk anymore. he #god. yeah. uh. you’re welcome nonnie? 😂😭 i’m right there with you tho #not to be that person but like. i wrote this? these are my words?? damn 😭 etc etc #time travel au

[sizhui]

Hiii Angie just curious is there a common fan interpretation of any of your enstars faves you really dislike

HIIIIIII oh man. I am such a pedantic nitpicky person when it comes to enstars that I dislike basically everything anyone except for a small group of carefully chosen friends and mutuals have said about my favorite characters. It's really tragicomic how bad online fans are at reading any text that demands beyond surface-level engagement, thinking and compassion. I too am a literature major and i WILL act pretentious about this! By the way i blame the trend of editing characters over Tumblr text posts for 50%+ of fandom misconceptions and it needs to die.

I think i want to talk about izumi and Leo today, because i already talked a lot about wataei in the essay i posted a few days ago, and shunazu ....i shan't get into that mess today. So..let's start with perhaps THE most foolishly and strangely misinterpreted guy in all of enstars. Leo.

Leo, together with Mika, forms the most kinned duo in the enstars fandom, which means hundreds of poor weirdos project all kinds of things onto him to hell and back, and at the same time, strip him of all of his actually interesting and unique qualities. They do, i guess, see his two main surface level qualities - being insanely good at and obsessed with his artistry, and being very scatterbrained and erratic - and somehow their little minds have turned him into some weird dumbass that can't even lead a proper conversation. No - literally, I've read Leo centric fics where he talks like a literal seven-year-old, and can't get through two sentences without yelling ucchuu, inspiration! While Leo does have a tendency to lose his train of thought, he is like. Very verbose and observant. He is, in fact, the second character after eichi who comes to mind when i think of long, heavy monologues in enstars. I just end up being like, have you ever heard Leo talking? He uses extensive and developed metaphors, he describes his own feelings and his personal mental desolation with great insight and emotion. And above all, he is able to pinpoint the exact weakness of his conversation partners, even those he isn't intimately acquainted with, and use it against them. Like. Leo can be incredibly sharp and sober, and he can be incredibly mean with the right aim. I also wish people saw his deep anguish and suicidal ideation as more than something relatable or meme-able - because Leo's story is one of death and rebirth, of the highest and purest form of salvation and of complex relationships in which both love and hurt eternally coexist. It also bothers me that people can't seem to understand that Leo knew izumi had always loved him . He knew since very early on. But he also knew that izumi wouldn't choose him over affirming his own self importance. Which was true, and makes it all the more painful. Then there's also a fact that Leo consciously sent people into their deaths in the war, not only for izumi but also FOR MONEY AND FAME but let's not get into that rn, the point is that he's Not that innocent either. A minor thing that pisses me off is how lots of enstars fans in izuleo spaces tend to make Leo find of throwing around innuendos and sex jokes when Leo straight up says that he hates sex jokes and boys ' talks. Like he just would not say that . All in all he's not your funny depression artist 69420 man he is a tortured soul who just barely evaded eternal danmation in the hell that is being misunderstood, unseen and used by the people closest to you and reached the paradise that is, even if it's just for a moment, being lovingly embraced for all that he is.

The thing people always miss about izumi is that he is a very unreliable narrator of Leo's story. The poor dear was so shaken by the realization that his beloved idiot is more lion than lamb that he deluded himself into thinking that making him like that is HIS FAULT AND HE RUINED THE INNOCENT LEO!! even though....Leo acted consciously for himself, as we affirmed earlier. All in all, izuleo is a sad relationship of two people who both thing they corrupted the other to the bone marrow, while they're actually both trying to make the other into their perfect shape and love it. But yeah that delusional, self deprecating manipulation of the readers' expectations on Leo is partly to blame for people misinterpreting Leo too, i think. Because izumi would rather you think Leo is stupid than a bad person, and most of the "truths" you get fed about Leo are spoken through him. Oh Izumi and Leo, how wonderful and yet horrible, so much more wonderful and more horrible than people think

[fastcardotmp3]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

oh what a cool thing 😭💛

I've only got 4 fics on ao3 right now but I'll pad it with something from my tumblr ramblings too fjdaskl

METAMORPHOSES - (109k+ wip) Eddie post-Kas possession recovery fic ft. Steddie hurt/comfort slow burn and the Eddie & Nancy friendship of my dreams

I think this is genuinely my favorite thing I've written so far even though it's not done yet. It feels like I've learned a piece of what it's taken to pull this together from every other thing I've written for this fandom and I'm finally finding a cohesive way to put those pieces together. Upside Down twisty turns? Character studies? Motifs and throughlines? you know the drill. I love this Eddie with my entire goddamn soul I'm so grateful to anyone who has taken the time to hang out with me in this little universe

there's blood in my ears (and a fool in the mirror) - (58k) Eddie & Max escape from the UD post S4 ft. Steddie getting to know each other pre S4

my very first ST fic, I just NEEDED to write about Eddie and Max stumbling their way into chosen family-hood and stumbled myself into making Boys Kiss along the way and although it's not as popular as some of my other stuff, I love this little world and I love my first try at playing around with UD logistics and DIY lore.

someone else's favorite song - (120k) Steve centric as he grieves the death of his mother and stumbles through the ups and downs of a FWB relationship with Eddie

This will never not have a special place in my heart, I got so much out of writing this both on a technical writing learning level and just the catharsis that always comes with writing about grief for me. I write for myself to such a degree that it still shocks me every time someone mentions connecting to this story and I am so full of gratitude that my catharsis could be yours too so just <3

that's just wasteland, baby! - (19k) Steve centric post S4 apocalyptic Hawkins ft. life affirming shower sex and buzzcut!Steve

I am always thinking about the immediate aftermath of season 4 and what kind of impact All That would have on the actual town of Hawkins, I mean we are RIFE with opportunity for good apocalyptic romance/ found family and this was my go at it. I'm really proud of managing to do something short and slice-of-life rather than accidentally writing a novel fajdskl and I had a really good time just narrowing my focus and making it a small story in such a Big setting ya know

reprogrammed au - (tumblr meta) after the end of the war with the UD, the people responsible for the NINA Project use that technology to wipe the Party's memories (at least for a little while)

If it's not already clear, I really love playing with the boundaries of what sort of unexplored set-ups exist for cool premises in the canon ST universe and this is just a further extension of that. I would love to write a longer more involved version of this, because there are just SO many avenues to take, especially with such a broad ensemble cast, and I love a good, kind of fucked up introspective moment/ any excuse to mess around with structure and unreliable narration so this is like the gold mine for me.

I have no idea who's already done this so apologies if I send out any repeats! I just haven't been scrolling as much this week because I'm busy getting my ass kicked by situations and circumstances and such woof

#ask #dot fic #dot thought #thanks for sending this friend I will now send out some! #<3 <3 <3

[msfbgraves]

i’m watching the first karate kid movie, and i had forgotten how really awful johnny was to daniel in this. he was such a bully to the poor boy! but i had also forgotten how absolutely lovable daniel was—he was such a scrappy, cute, kind and sweet boy. the first thing he does when he gets to the new apartment is find some water for a neighbor’s dog—without being asked or anything! what an angel. and i love the relationship he has with his mum. so adorable!!

that’s something i didn’t like about ck—how they made the mum not like amanda when she’s so loving and supportive in this movie.

and i can’t stand how in ck, they downplay johnny’s mean bullying actions to daniel, but play up daniel’s responses to them or his short temper. wtf!!!

johnny is 100% in the wrong, fuck the ck writers. trying to make daniel into an aggressor when he was 100% the bully, and a friendly sweetheart to boot.

What is so sad about how they handled the way Johnny sees Daniel is that it could have made for such a good show. Because Johnny is objectively wrong, but the new audience doesn't know that, and they could have fanbase go "Wait, I don't remember that at all...?!?"

Because it is fine that Johnny is an unreliable narrator. That is fun, actually. He begins the very first episode on a lie: Daniel did not leave him lying facedown on the floor, as the first episode suggests, but it's been over 30 years and maybe Johnny remembers it this way now, because he looks on that moment as the moment his whole life spiralled downhill.

That is good storytelling! That is cool storytelling! They could even frame Daniel through Johnny's eyes as doing things Johnny perceives to be asshole moves, because that's how he wants to think of Daniel.

But where they went wrong with Daniel is that they showed him doing asshole things even when Johnny was nowhere in sight. And that's just not Daniel. That's bad writing! I really admire how Ralph managed to make it pretty clear even then that Daniel is reacting to the threat that is Cobra Kai, not the threat that is Johnny Lawrence, but it would have been much better if, for instance, you only see Daniel through Johnny's eyes, freaking out completely over Cobra Kai, and then the story would shift to Robby, being Johnny's son, and then everybody already loves Johnny, and they're like oho, no, Robby is getting pulled into that asshole's world and then it turns out that Daniel simply isn't an asshole. And then you get to the fight between Robby and Miguel and Robby is not an asshole at all, either. He's good, he's polite, Daniel is a good sensei, and Miguel wins because he attacks Robby's injury outside the fight and Johnny has to go like, ah, shit, AITA?

But they had to make it that Johnny was right! And you can't do that without making Daniel a completely different person! I'm glad they had this moment midway season two where Daniel went "Wow. That was out of character, huh?" and was simply allowed to act more like himself, but it would have been a better show if the writers had not been so obsessed with having found their anti-woke icon who cannot do wrong and acknowledged far earlier that Johnny's mindset is messed up and getting people hurt left right and center. And maybe even delved into the fact that if Robby is messed up to no end, which he is too, possibly giving him the skills to hurt people more effectively is not a good idea. Mr. Miyagi did not go around teaching karate either; you need a very strong student sensei bond, a real need to fight (Robby wasn't being bullied), and even then I think that Mr. Miyagi very consciously steered Daniel away from the attacking side of karate. Not because he wasn't good enough, as ck has Chozen imply, but because Daniel does have a little Cobra Kai in him, Terry isn't wrong. Daniel loves the thrill of the fight a bit too much, actually. That's in the films. "Why didn't you kill him?" Because murder bad, Daniel-san? (Tf, boy, I'm not teaching offense any time soon...) and how they built on that in CK is actually interesting! Of course no karate is defense only. But Miyagi only taught Daniel to fight with a bo because if he'd taught him to fight with sai somebody might have ended up very dead...

...Anyway, the reason I write all that is because of Robert Mark Kamen and Ralph playing Daniel, not the CK writers writing Daniel.

And yes, what they keep doing with Lucille is so bad. Nagging mother-in-law, really? Like she doesn't understand what being a working Mom is. And with her own business. Also that story about Daniel lying to her as a young boy, "it wasn't me?" Daniel is an atrocious liar, honest to a fault, he only ever lies to save others pain. "I have it under control!" [He did not, in fact, have anything under control] that's Daniel. Lucille wants Daniel to have someone, why would she come between them? If anything, that sends up red flags about Amanda. But the writers do not care, because what to mothers in law do other than nag about dinner? They have not thought about what it actually means to be a working Mom for ten seconds. The only thing they really care about is redeeming bullies and dealing with Daddy issues.

And yet so often they write something really interesting without meaning to, or the actors play it in a way where it suddenly does add 20 layers to what we knew before but that is about as often despite the writing rather than because of it. It has so much heart, and commitment, and it's often almost good and then they're like no, our self-insert Johnny is the best Johnny even when Billy and Marty are like, 'actually, you're dead wrong...'

#ck negativity

[funwithchickenjane]

"there is nothing like the locked tomb..."

reading slumps suck. so i wanted to take a crack at recommending some specific read-a-likes that i've enjoyed over the years. without further ado...

"i really wish more books had..."

big-ass bone construct battles > the archive undying by emma meiko candon

this novel follows sunai, a man who cannot die, cannot age, cannot escape his past, and tries to solve most problems with gay sex. you will find familiar themes of chronic physical and mental illness, unreliable narrators losing their minds, body-swapping/mind-sharing, and monsters of bone and flesh slamming into each other.

whatever 'as yet unsent' had going on > witch king by martha wells

several people, some with history, some without, most grieving, all gay. and you guessed it--they're on a dangerous mission tangential to a rebellion plot! this novel best captures that energy of "the battle has happened, and now what?" as well as the impact of personal relationships on peoples political convictions. and yes, one of them is an anal-retentive lesbian cop.

labyrinthine houses of mystery > piranesi by susanna clarke

a weird one! piranesi follows piranesi, a odd little man living in a infinite house(?) with endless corridors and rooms. he knows only himself and The Other, until one day a third person shows up. here, you will also find themes of chronic illness and insanity. it also has guys who maybe shouldn't be god, houses of mystery, and a dark-academia-adjacent mystery. sadly, i don't think there were any cows.

fucked up old people threesomes the broken earth - n.k. jemisin

this a pretty grim fantasy series about a version of earth with fifth, extreme, seasons and people with geologic magic. alongside familiar themes of imperialism, oppression, and rebellion, this novel features one of my other favorite trios that messed up the world with a baby and a bomb. it does capture some of that retelling of the end of the earth vibes from nona. the use of names and identity is also quite interesting.

nona's genuine love for earth and its people > 17776 and 20020 by jon bois

stay with me through the football beginning. if you've come from the homestuck, you will appreciate these webcomics about three space satellites and the immortal, utopian earth that has nothing left to do aside from playing football. i think it is the only other thing i've read that captures both the human spirit and the horrors of immortality in quite the same way. (yes, it's still gay).

lesbians lesbians yuri lesbians yuri > kissing the witch by emma donoghue

this novel reimagines and connects thirteen fairytales into a tapestry of different (frequently lesbian) relationships and experiences. this book is one of my favorites when "two young adult lesbians who fall in love" is a little stifling and you want a larger cast of characters. (milfs, i mean when you want a book with milfs)

epic queer love story with necromancy > mo dao zu shi by mo xiang tong xiu

listen. i know that in the queer novel/ship tournaments the tensions were high. i know we're trying to focus on lesbians here. but i need you all to know in your heart of hearts that every bit of propaganda in the great 'wangxian v griddlehark (v old people)'-off of 2023... applied to both books. highly, highly recommend.

lesbian nuns... in space! > our lady of endless worlds by lina rather

this series of novellas tracks an order of nuns on a living spaceship serving in the outer colonies. faced with new orders from the church and a the distress call from a new colony, the order begins to question the version of history they were taught and the validity of their mission. (i have seen this promoted as 'camp', but personally, i find the themes to be much more serious/genuine than that).

#tlt #the locked tomb #read-a-likes

[mattzerella-sticks]

I adored this season of the boys but I thought the finale was weaker compared to episodes 6 and 7 which were masterpieces imo I think this is the last season they can do this "going back to the status quo with a few changes" thing. The moment they kill Homelander the show is over but they can't do another season where it all goes back to where it all started again I hope they have a way to get past it but frankly this show shouldn't go beyond 5 seasons I think that's the most logical number

I loved this season, and the finale - even though there were a few choices that maybe I'm still scratching my head at.

Mainly Soldier Boy, Homelander, and Ryan.

The way episode 7 ended, it was as if they were setting up Soldier Boy to betray Billy and Hughie. But then we find out he told them Homelander was his son afterwards? So, like... I guess the monologue about always wanting a son was just a hint towards the Homelander reveal? Or maybe we weren't supposed to take him at his word because he's supposed to be an unreliable narrator - everything he says about himself is fake, or he might believe what he says or says it because he thinks he has to, but doesn't mean it? I think the only genuine thing out of Soldier Boy's mouth was the monologue about the daddy issues...

I mean, maybe I'm also a little disappointed that he was only there for the season lol but at least it's not like Stormfront where they really did off her soon after season 2. He could always come back but I'm not sure the story will go down a path that makes sense to free him.

However, now thinking about it - given Homelander's portrayal this episode, which was pitch perfect, I guess they couldn't keep Jensen around because Homelander is supposed to be the main bad guy. They can't keep having their main baddie getting smoked out of the water by other, better villains (Stormfront, Madelyn Stillwell, Soldier Boy).

And, with Homelander, they set up where I think the series is going - as I mentioned in an earlier post. Even though it made little sense why Ryan went with Homelander. But I guess kids don't make much sense either. And Billy really messed up in episode 3 so... actions have consequences!!!

The finale, though, didn't really go back to the status quo. The Seven is gone. Black Noir is dead 😭 and Maeve is done. Butcher is on the outs and has a year, at best, to live. Annie is working with them full-time. The landscape has changed around them with Victoria Neuman really coming into her own as the VP pick and next season's main villain (which I am glad to have been able to call from last episode lol). The only return to status quo thing, i think, was the plan to kill Homelander failed - back to the drawing board!

Which, you're right, once Homelander is killed that's the show. They might have one more episode detailing the aftermath where they deal with who did kill Homelander - because i don't think it'll be Butcher or any of them (again, it looks like they're setting Ryan up for something, he's gonna be taking over the comic book Black Noir storyline).

But this whole season I've been saying this show was going to have five seasons. I don't think it needs anymore.

Because, like, the only reason why the Boys comic continued a bit after Homelander's death (besides the Black Noir reveal) was also because Butcher made the most insane turn and started offing his friends. I don't think that'll be the case in this adaptation thank GOD.

But to your point about this episode being weaker, I will say this episode had to do more than the last 2. 6 and 7 were more focused so they could do more. 6 was about herogasm. 7 was about the mind guy. 8 had do to a bit more across the board AND set up the next season. Every character made choices that made sense with what was established, except for Soldier Boy regarding Homelander - but, again, if he was lying about wanting to be a dad then maybe it was the right choice.

What episode 8 was though was it tied the season up rather perfectly and set up their move onto the endgame.

#the boys #the boys s3 #soldier boy #homelander #billy butcher

[ereviews]

Icarus or An Angel

In “A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings” by Gabriel García Márquez, readers start with a sick boy and a family trying to care for him by clearing crabs. While this family takes care of their son, a man with huge wings crashes onto the beach near them. They decide to exploit him for financial gain. They put him on display and charged people to see him and touch him. The clergy of the area suspect him of being an angel. They then start to stop having revenue when a girl who was changed into a spider is brought into the village. Eventually, after quite a bit of time, the man with wings can escape. In the closing, we can see that the mother can see him fly away, but she doesn't care.

In true short story fashion, we don’t get to know the characters of this story very well. We get to how the community interacts with new events and each other. I thought Márquez did a good job of letting us know about the plot and the allusions in the story.

The narrator is impartial throughout this story. We don’t have an unreliable narrator here. While I don’t know if it would have made the story better or worse, I would have loved to see an unreliable narrator, maybe even in the first person from the child who was sick. I think the 3rd person point of view wasn’t the best for this. I would have preferred a first-person view from someone in the story.

I think this story highlights the goldfish quality of humans. Many of us have short attention spans (how and why we have those can be debated another time). In Márquez’s story, when the girl who was turned into a spider for disobeying her parents (which by the way, what in the actual hell, that is messed up) shows up in town, everyone flocks to her. The narrator does an excellent job of portraying the cruelty of man, and how we make a spectacle of those who are suffering. Everyone moves away from the man trapped in a cage, to the young girl trapped in a different type of cage. Even when the girl is gone, the town has gotten its fill of the man and is now bored of him.

Can we talk about the family? Respectfully, they are bitches, assholes if you want to be polite. I find them to be reminiscent of diarrhea. They take someone who is a being capable of making informed decisions and use him for financial gain. This characterization is done well. The narrator is impartial, letting us learn our anger without truly commentating on it.

I feel the need to point out the final scene of the story. The man escapes and the woman watches him do so. She is like “Good riddance.” What an asshole. I think the best way to present an antagonist in a short story is how Márquez did it here. The antagonist is a bad person and we don’t have to spend time debating it, we can just focus on the meat of the story. I prefer having people who I can hate from the beginning.

I think it is interesting how they portray the man with wings. We are led to assume that the man with wings is an angel. He can perform miracles when touched, however, they are of the useless variety. My opinion is that useless miracles happen for two reasons. First, he is injured. When he crashed, he most likely became injured. Kinda like how when you hurt your ankle, you start to limp. The other reason I think these useless miracles occur is because he is not giving them willingly. They happen because random people touch him. I think in the old man’s prime, he is able or was able to perform full-bodied miracles. Now the next question is if this man is a (biblical) angel. I think this is what we are led to believe, however I think there is a chance that man is a reference to Icarus. However, if this is a reference to Icarus (or an angel for that matter), then I think it is not very well portrayed. I think a better portrayal of emotion and action from the angel could help to better define what exactly we are dealing with. If this is Icarus with some god-touched powers from who-knows-where, then we should be seeing a frantic man. Someone who is fighting against everything around him, slapping away anyone who touched him. With an angel, we should see some typical portrayal of prayer, or maybe something divine to help the old man. If this is a fallen angel, then maybe some cursing of God or maybe the author describes the beauty of the man (as fallen angels are supposed to be stunning). I just think something along those lines, or honestly, something wildly out of the ordinary would make the story better.

[euphoricfilter]

hi long post anon… again😭

yes “rule” is more so used as “unspoken boundary”

and its a lil concerning anon didn’t pick that up when the explanation is right under that specific quote they picked😭

like have fun but don’t get caught up in thinking that just because you write something that is fiction that your muse is gonna wanna see it

not only is this just to be safe/respectful morally but even legally in terms of copywrite

thats why mainstream authors don’t want people to send them fanfic because the author may accidentally add from the fic subconsciously. Or coincidentally they added it because it was an idea that you two happened to think of at the same time before you ever sent the fic or the author opened your letter/email.

this leaves people to then be able to claim the author stole content whether intentional or not.

but also in terms of morals, it just says that you respect how an author views their relationship with THEIR work by not making your interpretations aware to the author. many authors work hard to establish their worlds/characters and may feel put off if they feel someone has mischaracterized their work or morphed it into something they don’t recognize within the canon of their universe. not to say that the fic isn’t good but essentially you dont come into someone else’s home and tell them how to decorate.

and in terms of real life people, it keeps your muse from seeing how you characterize them which may not be a reflection of their own self-actualization. and again it can mess with how people see themselves. or almost feel like they’re being harassed to reveal something about themselves because fics with certain characterizations are being thrown in their face. like “i know something about you, you should just say it already.”

its not to say that a nonbinary or autistic headcannon isn’t valid but sending it to someone may feel like projection to that very real person.

like jungkook may not take offense to being called nonbinary or trans but if thats not his actual lived experience, then sending him fics or making him aware that you’ve “headcannoned” him as such would be crossing a line.

its like saying “oh im going to disregard how and what you’ve being willing to share about yourself publicly until you possibly give in and out yourself.”

we saw this with the actor who plays the bisexual boyfriend in Heartstoppers. people -mainly other queer people- couldn’t separate the actor from his role and kept poking him to come out until he actually did. just because the internet was right about him being queer, doesn’t mean they were morally right for pressuring him.

its like receiving a “love” letter from an unreliable narrator in which they detail how you smiled at them once which meant you were “obviously” flirting; when in reality, you -the person who knows your own feelings- only smiled cuz you were just being nice. doesn’t mean you aren’t a lover; it just means that your love hasn’t been extent towards them.

if Jungkook is nonbinary, he’s is for himself; not to reaffirm some preconceived notion Army have. he exists outside our collective thought and doesn’t need fic to convince him of his identity or lack there of.

basically this rule is a “curtesy” that we should extend to ALL people. so unless they ask, don’t show your fanfic to your muse, friends.

ugh i keep ending up long winded😭🤦🏽‍♀️

but this has been fun discourse and hopefully it enlightens someone cuz that what social change is supposed to do💜

thank you for explaining a little deeper, my lovely.

literally i’d go missing and you’d never hear from me again if bts were to read anything i’ve written, it’s not made for them 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ my worst nightmare is them perceiving me LMAO

and i think i can speak on behalf of most writers that what we write, either it be bts as gay or anything of the sort, is no way for us as writers to push the boys to come out or feel as though they should identify a certain way. as i’ve reiterated like a million times within the last couple of hours, it’s all a story, not there to project onto anyone in real life. i don’t sit in my bedroom and scheme up ways to force an agenda onto bts, i’m just trying to have a good time and little fun and if i’m doing something wrong then at least i’m aware now and can improve as a person

i’m not saying, as a straight fact any of the members are gay, or that they specifically go by they/them pronouns. if he does identify as anything above then that’s super cool too and he doesn’t owe me or anyone else anything, and that’s fine!! but me writing a non binary jungkook is in no way me saying that is how he should be or is in real life. idk why that point hasn’t come across for some people yet 🏃‍♀️

anyways, thank you again for taking the time to explain!! you definitely deserve a yummy snack after all this, and you’re super cool and very smart!! so thank you for taking the time out of your day to talk about such a kinda weird but very interesting topic with me 🫂

[awanderingmuse-ficrec]

is there a way back home? Series

Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender

Author: dont-leaf-me-alone

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Violence, Major Injury, Child Abuse, Alcohol Use, Underage, Character Death, Strong Language

Word Count: 315, 336

Pairings: Maiko, JetLee

Characters: Hakoda, Zuko, Bato, Hakoda's Crew, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Iroh,  Zuko's Crew,  Jee, Jin, Hakoda's Crew, Azula, Jet, Ursa, Kiyi, Water Tribe Characters, Mai, Ty Lee, Smellerbee, Longshot, The Duke, Southern Water Tribe Characters, Ozai, June, Nyla, Jeong Jeong

Tags: Parental Hakoda, Original Characters aren't mine, credit to Muffinlance for them, Zuko's Scar,  Hakoda is a Good Parent, Southern Water Tribe, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Hurt Zuko, When I say 'Zuko's Scar' it's a lot more like 'Zuko's fresh burn wound', Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boats and Ships, Angst, Iroh is a Good Uncle, Blood and Injury, Ozai Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai is an Asshole, Ozai Can Kiss My Ass, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jin shall be included, because I love her, Earthbender Jin, Hakoda's Perpetual Headache, Earthbending & Earthbenders, Firebending & Firebenders, I decided geese and goats weren't insufferable enough as separate animals, so you get them in one unholy fusion!, Unreliable Narrator(s), Zuko Needs a Hug, Protective Azula, God I hate Ozai with a burning passion, Goose-goat hybrid, Zuko's Angst Coma™, Past Child Abuse, Injury, Credit to Muffinlance for the Akhlut and crew, Air Nomad Genocide. Underage Drinking, Drinking, teenagers being dumb, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Unreliable Narrator, Zhao Is An Asshole, Zuko's luck is the actual worst, Fun fact! This fic is a self-indulgent Mess™, also Jet is here for a bit so that's fun, those two tags may be related, can't believe i forgot that tag, Jet Redemption, (Sort of? He hasn't actually done anything bad yet, so. Is it really redemption?), Hakoda Adopts Zuko, Iroh Adopts Zuko, They Can Coexist, Jet Lives, Jet Is An Asshole, Zuko Is ALSO An Asshole, they are assholes to each other, which is the foundation of their friendship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Self-Indulgent Mess Part III, Credit to MuffinLance for the Water Tribe OCs & Zuko's crew, Goose-goat hybrid returns, Zuko Gets a Hug, Kustaa (MuffinLance) is ALSO a Good Uncle, Azula Redemption, eventually, Jet Lives, Goose-goat returns!, Inspired by Salvage - MuffinLance, Ozai Being an Asshole, (Because Ozai), Slow burn friendship, Who let me write this mess?, I'd like to speak with a manager, Zuko is a Good Brother, Jet & Jin are horrible influences, and WILL corrupt Kiyi, Found Family, so much found family, Questionable parenting choices, questionable life choices, Minor Character Death, Significant death but insignificant character, Jet Is NOT An Asshole, Protective Zuko, Ursa is a Parent, not necessarily good or bad, ALL THE FOUND FAMILY, Ba Sing Se, Some Plot, look i'm not great with plot, you know that by now, Badass Mai, Goose-goat is back again! And here to stay, This is just a character salad, and I'm the chef tossing it in a vinaigrette of chaos, Minor Mai/Zuko, Whoo boy we just keep filling out this cast of characters huh, Team as Family, Ursa is still A Parent, Protective Jet, Azula Recovery, because redemption is kind of not the right word in this case, Azula Needs a Hug, will she LET anyone hug her? Probably not, Minor Mai/Zuko, just a smidge for flavor, no waterbenders YET, Friendship, Enemies to Friends, Goose-goat WILL BE IN THIS ONE, The Dai Li, Long Feng Being an Asshole, Bad Parent Ozai, Minor Jet/Ty Lee, just kinda sprinkled in there for some zazz, we just keep coming back to that

you’ll find that i’m unshakeable

A thirteen-year-old Fire Nation Prince winds up on a ship with the Chief of a minor village in the Southern Water Tribe.

Chaos ensues.

like a comet pulled from orbit

A Water Tribe ship's small crew must come to terms with the fact that their prisoner isn't a prisoner anymore, and the Fire Prince must come to terms with the fact he's neither a prisoner nor a Prince anymore.

Sequel and direct continuation of 'you'll find that i'm unshakeable'.

who knows where this road may go?

Zuko has been reunited with Uncle. Hakoda is on his way to find Zuko and his captured crewmembers. Jet is a walking crisis. What could go wrong?

Sequel and direct continuation of 'like a comet pulled from orbit'.

i am brave, i am bruised

One of these days, Hakoda's going to have to put a stop to this whole 'hitching a ride on his ship' business. For now, he's learning to co-parent with a former Fire Nation royal. How did his life come to this point?

Sequel and direct continuation of 'who knows where this road may go?'

the sun will rise

After a catastrophic Fire Nation family reunion, the crew — plus three more Fire Nation ex-nobles — are bound for Ba Sing Se. Hopefully, they can all hold their sanity together until then.

Sequel and direct continuation of 'i am brave, i am bruised'.

show the way the world can be

With Ari reunited with his brother, Jet reunited with his Freedom Fighters, and the whole crew soon to be reunited with the Akhlut, they're finally Ba-Sing-Se-bound, for real this time. It's sure to be smooth sailing from here! Right?

#fic rec #atla #maiko #jetlee #atla:precanon #atla:alternate timeline #atla:angst #atla:azula redemption #atla:fluff #atla:zuko's scar #atla:team as family #atla:watertribe adoption #atla:ozai parenting #if wip #100k #teen

[neoculturetravesty]

falling is not drowning

Pairing: Haechan x Reader, Jeno x Reader Genre: romance, angst, college au, social media au, hurt/comfort, psychedelic, maybe enemies to lovers? Warnings: mature, 18+, strong language, past abuse, nudes, oral (male receiving), compulsive sexual behavior, inappropriate relationships, cheating, use of recreational drugs, alcohol, revenge porn, implied paranoia Word Count: 15k

Summary: Lee Haechan was one fuckboy who, despite your tireless efforts, had never rolled in the hay with you. But you were going to get him in your bed, even if you lost your mind. After all, you needed to fuck him to get to Jeno.

A/N: I wanted to write an unreliable narrator and something less wholesome than what I’m used to writing. If some fluff crept its way in, it’s because I am a hopeless romantic at heart.

God created fuckboys for a reason.

They were as important to the ecosystem as good guys were. They played their part in keeping harmony on this earth by ensuring that the right amount of girls always remained broken-hearted enough to eventually make their ways to good guys; and the remaining, to even more fuckboys. 

But you never had the stomach for good guys. They were entitled, they put you on pedestals you never quite liked, they valued purity to a grizzly amount and at the end of the day, they wanted their bare minimum human decency to be rewarded with sex. The arduous, elongated act of forced chivalry, outdated traditions and black-and-white moralities always ended up with the same demand for sex that all men in the world invariably boiled down to. At least fuckboys were straight up in their true intentions. Fuckboys saved you all the drama from expectations set too high and masquerades that went on for too long. Fuckboys were your choice of poison.

Because despite girls lamenting about the games they played, and despite girls ganging up on, writing about and exposing them all they could, these fuckboys continued to exist. They continued to have more staying power than good guys. And the truth of it was very easy for you to see. Fuckboys existed because girls allowed them to exist. Girls like you. Girls that wanted the thrill of the unknown when it was paired with the accessibility of sex. Fuckboys never turned down sex. And you never turned down a fuckboy.

In some ways, you think you were addicted to them. You liked to think you had a higher sex drive than most, but even so, you needed your nights to be spend in the sharp oblivion of pleasure that these fuckboys brought you. It was your reward for working so hard during the days. You had a roster (rather, a black book) full of them. You had told yourself you’d go through all of them before you graduated and insofar, you had been pretty steady in your ambition. But there was one thorn in your side, that no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t remove. The fucker that had pricked at you for way too long, but not in the way you’d hoped.

Lee Haechan. 

He was one fuckboy, who, despite your tireless efforts, had never rolled in the hay with you. And dammit, tried you had. You had tried to get his attention many times, but he’d never really looked your way. You hated him. Because this thorn on your side had eventually started to mess with your head and your ambition and your roster. Good thing he hated you in return.

You couldn’t say what it was. But the best way you’d explain it is that you had a mental bug that liked patterns and it had made you sleep in patterns and study in patterns and eat in patterns and fuck in patterns. You had gone through your damned black book in patterns and he was. Messing. It. The. Fuck. Up. You hated him.

What was it that made him so arrogant, anyway? 

He wasn’t as good looking as the rest of his friends. He wasn’t that rich or that talented or that special in any way of the word compared to the people he hung around. You knew because you could swear you had fucked half of them.

You knew he hung around with Wong Yukhei. That boy was tall and gorgeous, even if he didn’t come from money. He had a face you could stare at without getting bored, and he was always down to fuck, even during times you’d hear he was seeing someone. So what if looked in the mirror every time you fucked? If you had a face like that, you’d keep looking in the mirror, too.

You knew his roommate was an older student, but he was handsome and had a banging body. He had a talent in fucking with a cock to match, and you suspected that if you had fucked him more than once, you could’ve actually fallen for him. But he was about to graduate soon and your need for a cock between your legs was greater than your need for a grip on your heart.

One of his other friends was Lee Jeno. And truth be told, you needed to fuck Lee Haechan so you could strike him off your roster and finally get to Lee Jeno. You needed to complete that pattern because fuck you, Lee Jeno was getting hotter and hotter by the day and you’d just sat through one of his swimming championships and spent the entire time ogling at the way his briefs clung to his bulge for dear life and your mouth had watered so bad that you’d gotten home that night and rubbed your pussy raw till you knocked out.

So, yes. Lee Haechan was a thorn on your side. He was a roadblock you needed to get past. You needed to put his arrogant prick inside of you so you could get over it and move on and start sleeping around the way God had intended. You fucking hated that he was down to fuck anything that fucking moved but he didn’t want to fuck with you and you didn’t know why. The arrogant fucking asshole. You hated him with everything you had and you needed to fuck him just to wipe that arrogant smile from his face.

It was just as well that the new semester was about to begin, because the break had given you some time to think and organize your plan of action. It didn’t take much scheming effort to find out what classes Lee Haechan was opting for this time around. He always did whatever Lee Mark did and Lee Mark’s girlfriend had a big old mouth when she was drunk and a girls night out with tequilas-a-plenty before school began seemed like the right thing to do and as you knew it, you had a complete list of Lee Haechan’s whereabouts by the time you got home. You were going to be a thorn in his side just like he was till he gave up his arrogant act and just gave it up.

So you came home buzzed that night and signed up for as many classes with Lee Haechan as you could. But it wasn’t enough. The alcohol in your veins was making you want to do something more reckless, so you whipped your phone out and opened Snapchat, only to discover that the motherfucker in question had you blocked.

What an asshole.

But it was okay. Snapchat wasn’t the only SNS you were on. How much more could he hide from you? You went on Instagram instead and shamelessly slid into his DMs. You stood in front of your floor length mirror ass-first and took a picture. You looked cute as fuck. It didn’t matter to you that the hem of your dress was hitching dangerously high. You looked good. You typed in,

‘too much ass for the first day back 🍑?’ as your caption and you hit send.

You smiled to yourself in the mirror. Who could resist you? No one could. Even tonight, on what was presumably a girls night out, men were all over you. Dancing with you in the club, grinding up against your ass in their drunken, lustful haze. Wanting to get you alone. Not many men had ever turned you down. Lee fucking Haechan had to be some sort of a saint. 

You felt the adrenaline in your veins when you heard your phone buzz. Maybe he wasn’t a saint after all. You read his message,

‘Why you asking me?’

You smirked and laid down your bait.

‘wait, who dis? aren’t you lee donghyun?’ you shamelessly typed in.

‘Wrong message I’m guessing? This is Lee Donghyuck.’

‘who tf is lee donghyuck? Idk any lee donghyuck, why r u on my list?’

‘it’s haechan?’

‘ew okay. This wasn’t for you. Don’t be a perv and screenshot or anything okay?’ You were an expert liar.

‘Wasn’t planning on it, L/N,’ was all the fucker sent back. You needed more ammo, so you sent,

‘what if it was for you 😉’

You didn’t get a reply for a while and you thought this was it for the night. But as you were getting ready for bed, your phone finally buzzed.

‘In that case, yeah, it is too much ig’

You smirked to yourself. Operation Fuck Lee Haechan seemed a-go, 

All things considered, you were having the perfect first day back. All your schedules aligned incredibly with all your other socials. You found yourself the perfect outfit that made you look cute enough for college and attractive enough for the boys. As if for a litmus test, you had purposely taken the long route so you’d run into Woobin. He had never been able to resist you and before your second class had begun, you had even fooled around with him a little bit. It was nice to know that the boys hadn’t lost interest in you. Dicks tend to be fickle, and you had wondered if most of your fuckboys had found other flings during the break. But knowing that you still had them riveted gave you the confidence that you still had it. It would’ve been the absolute perfect day, all things considered.

Except when you finally made it to the first class you had together with Lee Haechan, you learnt that the TA had the seats pre-assigned. Which put him next to another girl. It wouldn’t have mattered if he hadn’t kept smiling at her throughout the class. Not that that had ever been a barrier for you. But still, it was another stupid obstacle you’d have to go through if you didn’t do something about it sooner rather than later.

So, as the class ended, you knew you had to get at least one chat in.

“Since when are you called Donghyuck?” you almost inconsiderately barged into his conversation with the girl. She seemed nice enough, but men were creatures of little focus. You needed to block her away from his vision so she’d be out of his sight and out of his mind.

But Lee Haechan was right in your sight. And you saw that he’d caught a nice suntan in the break because his skin was glistening gold beneath the denim jacket he wore. You wondered if all of him was as golden.

“Since birth? Why do you ask?” he replied shortly. He had been talking to the other girl just fine. Why the fuck was he being so rude to you?

“How come people call you Haechan then?” you kept talking.

“None of your business,” he rolled his eyes and the girl behind you giggled. What a bitch she was and what an asshole he was. He had the audacity to quip at you and walk away.

“Okay, ruuude!” you called after him, but let it go. You knew guys usually acted differently around others in particular and in public in general. So you waited till the sun went down--you had learnt that people’s inhibitions tended to lower in the darkness of the night. 

And in the cover of that night, you unbuttoned your top more than you should and zoomed in on your cleavage with your phone and took a picture.

‘Is it my business now?’ you sent.

The motherfucker left you on seen.

The thing with people with dicks is that they seldom use their brain. The moment they start using their minds, one could hypothetically grab them by the balls and make the blood rush to their cocks rather than their skull. That would usually set them right. You were blessed that the TA was a person with a dick. Because a quick handjob in the office was all that was required for him to rearrange the seating plan and situate you right next to Lee Haechan. 

You couldn’t help but smile wide as you entered the lecture hall that day, much earlier than you needed to, and made your way to your new seat. You put your things on Haechan’s seat and waited for the drama to unroll. You saw him entering with that girl and you scoffed when you saw that he was carrying her things. He’d only known her, what? Three days? And he already wanted in her pants. Why else would he be carrying her shit?

Then again, you wanted in his pants, and people often did strange things when their sexual desires and pants were at stake.

“Y/N, this isn’t your seat,” Haechan said impatiently, not even sparing a full look your way. But you looked at him by the eyeful. He was wearing the college hoodie and his legs looked longer than usual. You had two full hours to ogle at him. You could easily take a couple of minutes to revel in the unfolding of your scheme,  just to see the pair of them seethe first.

“Um, yeah it is?” you rolled your eyes at him, because your last interaction had been annoying you more than necessary and you needed to return the gesture.

You heard him let out an exhale. “This is Yeri’s assigned seat. You can keep sitting here but the TA is going to have you move when class begins, anyway,” you could tell he was trying to keep his voice even, exasperated as he sounded.

“Oh, but haven’t you seen? There’s a new seating plan. The TA just posted it!” you held your phone out and showed them the class portal. 

Haechan took your phone and held it closer to see and you saw the slightly sheepish moment of realization when he realized he was wrong. He gave that girl an apologetic look and she shrugged and walked away all the way to the opposite corner of the hall where you had the TA banish her. Having people by the balls was always an advantage. 

You put on your best fake smile as you looked at them and moved your stuff from Haechan’s chair. It felt sweet to be this petty. And begrudgingly, he sat next to you, his body language agitated and his gaze locked straight ahead like he had blinders on. Like he wanted to pretend you didn’t even exist.

But you made your presence known wherever you went. That was something you took pride in. So what if this arrogant fucker wanted to pretend you didn’t exist. You had promised yourself to be a thorn on his side and you were nothing if not consistent. 

“I’ve been trying this new perfume. The one I used to wear got discontinued, which is a travesty,” you began to speak. But the fucker didn’t even hum in response. So you stuck your wrist at him.

“Do you like it?” you waved your wrist under his nose and got the pleasure of getting a reaction out of him, even if it were one of pure annoyance.

“Smells a little like desperation,” he muttered. 

Rude fucking asshole. 

You pulled your wrist back in and straightened in your chair. Why the fuck did he have to be so rude? 

“Now, now, Lee Haechan. All of NCTIT knows you’re not one to turn down a girl in need.”

“And all of NCTIT knows that you’ve got plenty of ways to satisfy that need,” he spoke in an annoyed tone and still didn’t look at you.

“Don’t be rude. I’m just trying to have a little fun,” you lightly tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie but he moved away from your grip.

“Do whatever you want, but get off my back.”

“I haven’t even begun to get on your back, Lee Haechan.”

“What do you want from me?” he suddenly turned to look at your face. He didn’t look angry or annoyed anymore. He just looked cold. You smirked. Some fuckboys were served hot and some were best enjoyed cold. You like them both ways.

“Unblock me on Snapchat.” you smiled at him.

“That’s what’s going to get you to leave me alone?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, smiling wider. You saw that the more you smiled, the more he tried to void himself of a reaction. It was amazing to see him struggle. He pushed his phone to your face just before class began, to show you the proof in the Snapchat pudding.

That night, you sat in nothing but your cutest set of bra and panties and got carried away. Your body looked amazing. You had curves and dips in all the right places and a face to match. Your skin was glowing, your hair looked perfect, and no one wore underwear as well as you did. It wasn’t a secret to you that boys wanted you. What you were seeing in the mirror was proof enough. It wasn’t illegal to flaunt what you already have. So what was meant to be a quick selfie turned into a 30-minute photoshoot. You took so many pictures of yourself that you had enough thirst traps to last you weeks. But these days, you only had one person to trap.

You picked out the cutest picture from the reel, one where the light hit your tits and ass just right and opened Snapchat and sent it to your victim.

‘one before bed x’ 

You didn’t expect a reply back, at least not yet. You didn’t expect that he’d take a screenshot, either. You smirked, even in your sleep because Lee Haechan had taken the bait.

This would’ve been the lamest Halloween party in the world, even if Lee Haechan wasn’t sucking face with that girl. 

He wasn’t even dressed that special. He had put together the laziest Dracula costume that existed, and in a world where you weren’t hellbent on chasing him, you wouldn’t even have noticed him. You had been invited to so many other parties. You could’ve gone to any of them and had a better time. But the 127 party was where you would find him and that’s where you had to be. Now that you were here though, you wondered what good it did to put in all that effort to dress up. This was a perfect waste of your favorite black lingerie. You could’ve saved it for a better party, one where you had more eyes on you. The boys in here were drunk out of their fucking minds to notice you much. You hated being here more than you hated Lee Haechan.

“That is quite the tail you’ve got there,” you heard a voice behind you. 

The voice came from behind a Squid Game Triangle Masked Man, so it wasn’t totally rude to give the rest of the body a once over… you couldn’t exactly see the eyes behind the mask now, could you? You didn’t hate what you could see.

“That’s quite the… pink overall you’ve got there yourself,” you smiled and stood up straighter and pushed your shoulders back. Your lingerie top put plenty of tit on display and it had been irking you all night that not one man had tried to hit on you yet. 

The man unmasked himself and you actually felt the heat grow between your legs when you discovered it was none other than Lee Jeno himself. You had gotten so lost in your schemes, that you had forgotten Lee Jeno was the reason you’d been going through all that bother with Lee Haechan. How strange that he came to you all by himself, without you having to put in any effort at all.

“Oh, what a pity. I thought it'd be Na Jaemin under all of that,” you fake lamented. You knew these two had come together in couple-costumes. You earned a pout and a smolder in return.

“Bold of you to assume Na Jaemin would stay at a party this long,” he said and you actually laughed.

“Hmm. But you’re not meant to unmask yourself. Guess I’ll have to kill you now,” you angled your body towards him, just enough for him to keep flirting.

“Don’t I get a last wish?” he said and this time, he let his gaze travel along your body, too. You had him, hook, line and sinker.

“Lee Jeno has a catgirl fetish. Who would’ve thought?” you said when his gaze finally travelled up to your eyes. You held it.

“Who says it's my catgirl fetish that’s acting up?” he replied and if you were being honest with yourself, you were caught a little off guard. Because you’d been with enough fuckboys to know how they worked. You knew the weight of their words. You understood if they wanted a one-off or something more. And this boy seemed to be leaning on the side of something more. 

“Pity. Here I thought I’d find out what’s hiding behind those pink overalls,” you raised your eyebrows. You saw his eyes darken.

“I could show you,” he grumbled and took you by the wrist and began to move you away. But Lee Haechan had started to walk up to the DJ and the lights were starting to dim. Maybe the party was finally getting started. So you held him back.

“What’s the rush? Let’s dance first,” you said, because you needed to keep Lee Haechan in your sight.

Jeno smiled and led you the opposite way instead. And when the music and the flashing lights and the darkness began to engulf your bodies, he made quick work of his hands. They grabbed at the full flesh of your ass and pulled you into his hard body. He was built, but that much you had seen when you’d ogle at him in the pool. But his hands were thirsty and they grabbed at you with the exact type of want you needed from men. You pressed your chest against him and you danced and the lights flashed and made it hard to think much. He smelled good, too. He was tall and he was handsome and he was into you. The lights were blinding and your mind was slowing. He was a good dancer. He took control of your movements and the heat between your legs grew. You’re sure he was grinding against everything that was right. But the flashing lights lowered your inhibitions and heightened your senses and you could’ve sworn you saw Lee Haechan’s eyes on you. 

But soon, it felt too good. Soon, it was as if all sweaty bodies in the room were merging into one. Soon, it felt like everyone was grinding on everyone because you’re pretty sure you lost Lee Jeno in the crowd. It felt good to just dance in the darkness of the flashing lights. It felt good to feel random hands on your body and just let go. You closed your eyes and you smiled as the euphoria took over. You moved your body and your hips and your ass against everything that came close enough. And then you felt a pair of hands on your waist that only made your smile grow. Somehow, you didn’t need to open your eyes to know who they belonged to.

You took your chance. You easily looped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you. And he didn’t move away. Maybe the blinding lights protected him, too. If just for these moments, he forgot all about his ego. Because he grabbed at the hair at the base of your neck and tilted your head back. And he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. 

You moaned into his mouth and moved your hands under his cape and over his belly. You felt the planes of his abs through the fabric, but your curiosity burnt hotter. His lips tasted like strawberry jam, but you wanted to taste more of him. You tugged at his top and made it untuck from his pants. You travelled your hands up and felt his stomach, skin on skin. He hissed and flipped you around so your back would be to his front and your ass right against his crotch. He held you into him with an arm around your waist. You felt the hardness of him on your back. You felt his breath hot on your neck. You heard the grunt from his mouth as he rolled back and thrusted against you. And standing right here in the thick of this party where everyone was drunk out of their minds and dancing in the dark into oblivion... standing right fucking here and getting dry humped by Lee Haechan was the hottest thing that had ever happened to you. 

The music changed and the lights changed with it and the moment was stolen from you way too soon. You felt him turn and blend into the crowd before you’d even had a chance to look at him. The ache between your legs was wanton and identifiable, but the unease in your chest was what you couldn’t place.

“There you are,” Lee Jeno appeared by your side, “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Here I am,” you replied, though you weren’t. You weren’t really there.

By the time you got home, you had pretty much made up your mind on what you wanted to do next. You slipped out of your panties and stood ass first in front of the mirror once more.

‘this what u wanted?’ you sent, and before you had put yourself to bed, you finally earned your first real reply. You opened the message and your mouth watered at what you saw. Haechan stood in his bathroom with this shirt pulled up to expose his abs and your eyes finally saw what your hands had felt. 

‘and this is what you wanted,’ his message read. You couldn’t argue with that. Though only his jaw was visible in the image, you could tell he had a smug expression on his face.

You rode your vibrator that night as the sensory image of Lee Haechan rolling his crotch into your ass played in your mind over and over. You knew it was game on.

Any normal person could see that it was getting out of hand.

Your pictures to him were getting way out of control but you loved every moment of it. It made every cell in your body come alight. In some ways, the thrill of sending naughty pictures to Lee Haechan felt better than getting fucked in a stranger’s bed. You don’t know what it was.

On Monday, you decided he needed to see how well your back arched. So you put on your favorite bodysuit and kneeled on all fours and took what you thought was a really inviting picture.

‘i know this how you like it x’

You were rewarded with a picture of him laying in bed, even if he still had his clothes on.

‘almost but not really tho’

On Tuesday, you decided to get a little bolder. You took a picture of your bottom half laying in bed with your hand tugging onto your panties.

‘wanna lick my cameltoe?’

You got a Snap of his face wearing a cocked brow and feigned disapproval.

‘unsolicited pussy pics are not it, l/n’

So you put a hand inside your underwear so he’d see the gesture but not the offense.

‘why don’t you tell me to stop then?’

Motherfucker left you on seen that night.

The rest of the week went by in exactly the same fashion. You sending him risque photos and him replying just enough to keep you going without losing faith. It took you a while to realize that suddenly, you were the one being played. Yet, your instinct couldn’t have been totally wrong. Because every night, you’d rile him up with something more shocking than before and every morning you'd sit next to him in class and feel the heat coming off of him. You knew he was more interested than he let on. He hadn’t really been seen with that girl much anymore.

So you decided to amp things up.

On Wednesday, you contemplated going fully topless and just giving him an eyeful of your front. But at the last moment, you turned on the LED lights in your room and decided to cover your nipples with your forearm as you sent him a clip of you swaying to sensual music.

‘wanna dance with you again’

‘careful l/n,’ he sent back a Snap of himself, still too clothed for your liking.

‘don’t i get to see those abs again👅’ you demanded shamelessly.

He had waited a few moments before he sent back an ominous ‘Maybe.’

An ominous maybe was just a yes in waiting and it gave you enough information to know that you were moving in the right direction, but maybe it was time to do something more outrageous. You really needed this to get a reaction out of him.

Because although your nights were spent trying to seduce Haechan, Lee Jeno had been giving you a lot of attention during the days. As it turned out, he hadn’t really thought much of being blue balled that night at the Halloween party because on Tuesday, you found him waiting outside your lecture hall.

“I found you,” he said, smiling. He smiled with his eyes more so than his mouth, and a part of you had to admit that that shit was endearing. It was the kind of shit you could fall for, if you ever became that bitch. You ate lunch with him that day and you sat so incredibly close to him that you smelled like his cologne by the time you made it to your next class.

On Wednesday, Lee Jeno invited you to come see him at his swimming event. He won the competition and you found yourself furiously making out with him in the boys locker room while he wore his medal around his neck, his naked torso pressing into your clothed tits as he pinned you against the wall.

On Thursday, you felt your pussy throbbing for him as you walked past him working out at the campus gym. His sweat ran down the curve of his neck and you wondered what it tasted like. His veins popped angry in his forearms and you wondered how he'd respond if you asked him to choke you with them. He was a sexy beast and you needed to be in his bed. 

But your fucked up brain still needed to go through that darned pattern. 

There were other ways to have fun, you had thought; one that wouldn’t mess with your mental patterns or black book rosters. So, on Friday, it so happened that Lee Jeno invited himself over to your place and you finally decided to throw all your chips on the table.

While Jeno slipped into your bathroom, you stripped yourself of all your clothes and you sat at your vanity. You put your phone against it and you spread your legs and you masturbated on camera. You moaned and you grinded on your fingers and you made your pussy glisten and you hit send on your phone. You didn’t write a caption, not this time. The content was pretty self-explanatory, and if he wasn’t going to reply, you’re sure that at the very least, it would make him hard. You put your phone down and returned to rubbing yourself on the chair because fuck, the idea of Lee Haechan seeing you in heat was driving you crazy, and that’s how Lee Jeno found you.

So, before he could make a move, you kneeled and you took him in your mouth and you blew the living daylights out of him. You didn’t stop to ask how he liked it. You blew his cock and you blew his mind because the grunts that came out of the boy were as sexy as the rest of him and not once did he ask you to stop. You looked up at him even when you took him all the way down your throat and made a show of gagging on him. Guys liked thinking they had a bigger cock than any you’d taken, and you liked him well enough to inflate his ego that way. But by the end of it, you’re not sure whether it was his ego you had inflated or something else. Because most fuckboys would’ve walked out the door the moment they nutted in your mouth. You hadn’t expected that this one would help you with the clean up and keep kissing your mouth and make you hot tea to soothe your aching throat before he left. 

It was a brainfuck in every sense of the world. Lee Jeno had fucked your skull and your brain and by the time he was kissing you at the doorstep, you had no idea what to make of any of it. You hadn’t really planned any pit stops in your black book. Then again, Lee Jeno was the last cock in your roster. You didn’t have any other men after him you wanted to pursue--at least not yet. Unless you added more names to that book, you wouldn’t really know what to do when you finally got to Lee Jeno. Would he really become your final destination in the true way? 

It was a bizarre feeling going to bed that night and wondering how it came to you this easy. Lee Jeno didn’t give you the satisfaction of a chase, neither the gratification that came with the realization that the cock you were fucking belonged to an asshole. He was neither a fuckboy, nor a good guy. He had enough adventure in his stride to be one, but enough decency in his actions to be the other. It was the strangest moment of your life, realizing that a man you wanted between your legs was a good person. Nothing in your life was ever easy. Then how come Lee Jeno was basically yours for the taking?

That night you laid in bed and went through your notifications. You finally had a reply from Haechan, and what you saw confirmed to you that throwing all your chips in really had done the trick. Because Lee Haechan had finally rewarded you with a dick pic. 

You didn’t even give it an eyeful before you closed it. For the first time in your little scheme, it was you that left him on seen. You don’t know what made you cry into your pillow that night.

“It’s literally a cabin in the woods. Depending on how much it snows, we can do a couple of fun things,” Jeno told you as he walked you to class.

“Okay, but how many people will be there?” you asked. That made him stop walking; you only realized as much when you had left him a few steps behind. You turned around, “What?”

“I… I was hoping it would just be the two of us,” Jeno said slowly, watching your face for a reaction.

“Oh…” was all you could say for a while. This request came out of nowhere. You hadn’t really known him that long--a couple of weeks at best. You didn’t know what to say. 

Jeno smiled and stepped forward to close the gap between you two and took your face in his palms. “You don’t have to answer right away. But we’re not getting any other long weekends this semester. It could be fun.”

It felt easy to smile back at him as he held you, even if you didn’t know what to tell him. “I’ll think about it,” you said, because you assumed that this is what normal people said in situations like these. You saw the sparkle in his eye at your words and you felt that unease in your chest once again. A normal reaction from men you’d receive was a stiffening in their pants. A sparkle in their eye was new and unusual, though you weren’t sure you much enjoyed the sensation it brought to your gut. It was almost a relief when he ended the conversation with a kiss to your lips and walked away with a farewell. Because you needed to start thinking straight before you made it to your next class.

But no amount of mental prep made sitting next to Lee Haechan any easier. You had no idea what was happening to you. But the heat you used to feel between the two of you was replaced by an awkward, dark energy. Because ever since you had masturbated for him on camera and ever since he had revealed his cock to you, there had been nothing but radio silence.

You didn’t talk to each other. You didn’t acknowledge one another. When the night would fall and you’d find yourself alone, you didn’t model for him. Lee Jeno had been on the receiving end of your camera skills these days. You had hoped it would be enough to keep him occupied and happy whilst you untied your mental knots. But they were tugged on tight. No matter how much you told yourself that patterns didn’t matter, that black books didn’t matter, that not everything in this world had to be sense and order… those knots in your mind had taken years to form. There was no untangling them any time soon. You’d sooner get Lee Haechan in your bed than detangle your mind.

But you had stopped chasing Lee Haechan, too. What the fuck was it that you wanted? You had no idea. Why were you stuck in this limbo? You hadn’t a clue. Lee Haechan didn’t want you and Lee Jeno wanted you and you couldn’t have one without the other. You were fucked up. That much you had always known; but you don’t remember the last time you’d been this fucked up. Fuck Lee Jeno for waltzing into your life before you had invited him. Fuck him for fucking up the perfect plan in your head--one where you’d fuck Haechan before him. Fuck him for coming to your first and not even making you work for it. Fuck him for being kind and treating you right and not expecting too much. Because look what he fucking did your brain. 

And now he wanted to take you away to a cabin in the woods in the snow. Like you were someone he could wine and dine and treat right and she’d be his in all her faith. What a fucking mess. You had no idea what to do.

Perhaps the universe took pity on you because before the end of the class, you learnt that for this course, you’d all have to visit the field site and the only time they were willing to accommodate so many college students at the same time was during the long weekend. 

You finally had an out. And an opportunity. You didn’t know if you wanted either of it.

Pulling yourself together and putting your mind back in the scheme turned out to be a much easier task than you thought it would be. 

Your dry spell ended when you learnt that for the field site visit, you had to work in groups of three. Manipulating group assignments was your forte, because you’re pretty sure you still had the TA by the balls. It was good to feel like you finally had control over something. So even if the TA didn’t want just a handjob this time, you sank to your knees and took him in your mouth and by the end of it all, the entire class had been divided into groups of three except for you and Haechan who would work as a twosome. It was only later in bed that you realized that you had sucked a man you didn’t really want to suck. You could only go to sleep when you had rinsed your mouth with a whole bottle of Listerine and your tongue seemed raw and blistered. So what? You were back in control. And in the morning, you finally sent Haechan a picture after a week and a half of silence. 

‘heard we were partners,’ the caption read over a selfie that was tame by your standards. Just a regular top with too much cleavage. He had definitely seen more.

‘you heard right,’ you got in return a picture of him presumably just out of the shower, still too many clothes on.

You needed to get a move on or you’d never be able to move on. You needed to pull yourself together and remind yourself that you were a desirable fucking bitch whose heat men couldn’t resist. Lee Haechan was just a man. You needed to treat him like more of a man and less as a roadblock with too much control over you.

So during the trip to the field site, you fucked with his head. Before that girl could even daydream of finding herself next to him, you’d manipulated everyone on this bus to make it so that only you could sit next to him in the back and he couldn’t switch seats no matter what he did. He sulked and stared out the window for the first few minutes, keeping up his tradition of pretending you don’t exist when the two of you were in broad daylight. But this was the man that had dry humped you in the darkness of the dancefloor. So when everyone had settled in their seats and the excitement about being on a trip over a long weekend had died down, you put your hand on his thigh. And you rubbed. Motherfucker didn’t move, even when you saw his jaw clench. You moved your hand higher up between his legs, feeling around for what you needed and that’s when he caught your wrist and silently, but roughly jerked it away. You smiled. You wanted him riled up. You liked him riled up. It gave you so much control.

You fucked with him throughout the time you were meant to be working together. When the coordinator presented you with something to observe under the microscope, you pressed into Haechan’s side till you felt the leather of his belt cutting into your hip. You saw him gritting his teeth but not saying a word as he worked. You put your hand over his when he reached to grab something. You held his bicep to get out of your seat. Later, you made quite a show of bending over to pick something from the ground and grazing your ass against his crotch. Maybe he needed to relive a memory to act on his instinct. But he was colder than you realized.

Or maybe, he really did hate you.

Because you had been chasing him for weeks. You had done everything you could. You had stripped down naked for him and fucking masturbated for him. And he still didn’t want you.

It had to be you. Because Lee Haechan was fine with just about everyone else. When he hung with his friends, he smiled the brightest. When he spoke to that girl, he spoke with kindness. When he was in bigger groups, he’d become the life of the party and the de facto leader. When he was with older students, he had no trouble playing the mischievous little brother. But when you’d walk in, it was as if you sucked his energy like a blackhole. He’d shut off. He’d turn cold. He’d lose his words and he'd avert his gaze. He hated you, but not in a passionate way. He hated you where he didn’t want to spare any emotion for you, because he thought you were that undeserving.

You felt that uneasiness in your chest again, only this time, it travelled up to your throat. Lee Haechan was going to be a thorn in your side in more ways than you could’ve imagined. He loved his friends and his family, he did well in college, he had talent and beauty, he was God’s favorite and you weren’t. His apathy hit you like a dagger and you snuck away, disappearing from the rest of the group and spending the rest of the trip in hiding. It wasn’t going to work. You’d gotten naked for him. You’d gotten to your knees and taken a man in your mouth you didn’t want to take. All for him. But none of it worked. You stole a bottle of liquor from the coordinator’s office and you drank from it till you passed out in your hiding spot. And on the night before you had to leave, you took your chances and sent him a message.

‘I’m out in the woods,’ you wrote, no picture this time.

It was in the dark of the night and in the thick of the trees. And Haechan liked you in secret. That was a hypothesis you had to test. The gentle rustling of the leaves and the soft crunching in the grass confirmed to you as much.

He wore a scowl as he often wore whenever he was around you. He approached you like he was being cautious.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, “I had to complete all the requirements myself.”

“It’s our last night together, Haechan. Don’t you want to have some fun?” you stuck your tongue out. And in the sharp fluorescence of the moonlight, he saw the heart shaped pill sitting pretty in your mouth. 

He leaned in and sucked it from you, his lips closing around your tongue and taking what he needed. His hands roamed down your waist and onto your ass and once again, Lee Haechan wrapped himself around you in the darkness of the night and in the blindness of the moonlight. You were right. This was the only way he liked you.

But his touch kept growing, like his hands were multiplying till they were touching you deep in your skin and you held onto him impossibly tight and moaned into his mouth. His touch was everywhere you had heat on your body like there were many of him and only one of you and he was surrounding you in every raise of the hair that prickled your skin. He was moaning, too. You felt the reverberations of him in your throat, right in your jugular and right in your ribs that were threatening to split open. You wanted to split open for him. 

You were one with the earth. He was you and you were him and you were the earth and the earth was in you. You were suffocating in the scent of him and your breaths were the same. He was breathing in your mouth and taking the life of you. You wanted him to take it all and end it. You were gripping into him and your fingers were sinking into his flesh and bones. You were feeling all of him. You were calling out his name and now he was behind you and you were drowning into the dirt. You felt him in waves and you felt his voice singing in your ear. What was this melody? You felt like you had heard it before. You didn’t know many songs. But you sang his name in return. There was so much pleasure in calling out his name. You felt it in your being and in your insides and you called it out till it felt like you were extorting it out of your body. Like his name was a shard of glass that shredded you from the inside as it came out of you. And you sang it again. And again. And again. You sang it till your throat was bleeding. You sang it till you felt rakes scratching down your skin. You sang it till you felt him on top of you, suffocating you once more and immobilizing you. Haechan, Haechan, Haechan.

Haechan. He could take the life of you and you’d die happy. Haechan. He lived inside of you but never outside. Haechan. He needed you in the dark but never in the light.

You were ripped open for him and he’d seen your insides. Your breaths were gone and your heart was flying. You gripped at him. You wanted everything back. How dare he take so much from you? ‘Give it back to me! Set me free!’ you screamed. 

Haechan, Haechan, Haechan. You were drowning in him and he in you. Haechan, Haechan, Haechan. You could taste the blood and euphoria on your tongue. Haechan, Haechan, Haechan. You never existed and you never could. Haechan, Haechan, Haechan. Nothing was light and everything was dark and you had never mattered to anyone. 

Haechan. 

Haechan. 

Haechan.

You were stumbling even as you laid and that girl was pressing a palm to your head. Was she trying to kill you?

“I checked your temperature because I thought you had a fever. Do you feel anything?” she asked.

Do you feel anything. 

What a strange thing to ask.

Did you feel anything?

You didn’t feel anything.

Nothing at all.

“I think you may have caught a cold out there. Do you want me to get you something?” she asked. You snatched away.

“I’m fine,” you snapped though your throat felt like sand. Had you been looking, you would’ve seen her face look taken aback.

“Okay. The bus is leaving in an hour. Thought you should know,” she said and left you alone.

What happened out there? How did you catch a cold? You’d been hiding and he’d been hiding with you. You’d been laughing and you’d been running. What happened?

You needed to shower.

You rid yourself of your clothes and jumped at the sight of the smooth planes of your skin. He had cut you open. That much you remembered. He had cut you open and felt your insides. But how could he have done it? You weren’t even scratched. You felt the memory of him in every inch of your skin. Had you fucked? Did you finally get what you wanted from him? 

You didn’t remember.

And that thought had you emptying your stomach into the toilet.

You climbed into the bus and he looked up, like he’d been waiting. He wordlessly moved the jacket from the seat next to his. Like he’d been keeping it for you. And you sat because where else would you go? This was your doing. You had nowhere else to go. And when the bus started moving and everyone settled in, he held your hand and he intertwined your fingers.

You just wanted to go home.

You turned a corner when you caught sight of Lee Jeno. He’d been looking for you the whole day and you’d been avoiding him the whole day. You’re not sure what it was: did you not want to see him or did you not want to face him?

‘free now?’ you read part of his message in the pop up notification but not all. You didn’t want to open the text and have him see that you had read it.

‘should I pick you up after class?’ he messaged again and you felt like you were suffocating. You walked around campus, trying to avoid all the places you’d run into him.

‘Is it okay if i come over tonight? I miss you,’ his last message read and you switched your phone off. This was too much. You were suffocating and you wanted to hide. You turned and almost ran head first into the TA’s chest. He held you by the shoulders to steady you and you flinched away. Why were people touching you?

“Trying to skip class, Ms. L/N?” he said in a tone you didn’t quite like.

“No, I’m just getting my things…” you looked away to walk away, but he didn’t let you. Your alarm bells rang hot in your ears. Nothing about this situation seemed right. 

“Hold on, Ms. L/N. I’ve been meaning to discuss something,” he said with a smile on his face. You looked around and maneuvered yourself so you’d be in a spot where people could see you. And who else was going to catch you in your lowest moments but Lee Haechan? You felt his eyes on you and you weren’t sure you felt any safer.

“I know you're failing your classes,” he began. Still smiling. You saw Haechan scowling your way from the corner of your eye.

“I guess I am,” you replied shortly. Perhaps he didn’t like the sudden ice in your stature toward him.

“You don’t have to, you know. I’ve told Professor Lin what a talented girl you are,” he reached in to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you felt your skin crawl. 

“Oh? Did you tell him how you knew?” you replied. You couldn’t see Haechan in your periphery anymore. You felt the danger deep in your belly. You didn’t like where this was going. 

His eyes darkened. “I’ve been helping you a lot, Ms. L/N. Sometimes, you need to help me, too.”

“Is there a problem?” you heard Haechan’s voice behind you. But you didn’t stop to hear the rest of the conversation. You turned on your heel and you ran away.

You were good at running away.

But how could you feel suffocated in your own home? 

Lee Jeno kept knocking on your door and ringing up your phone as you sat on the floor with your hands pressed to your ears. That’s how. 

You wanted to scream. You wanted everyone to leave you the fuck alone. Who did he think he was, trying to check up on you? For what? He hadn’t really known you that long. Who was he to think he had any right to check up on you? Who gave him the right to knock on your door and fuck with your head like this? All he had done since the moment he had met you was fuck with your head. 

Why did everyone keep messaging you? Why did you reopen your phone? What did everyone want from you? You felt like you were caged. You needed Lee Jeno to get the fuck away from your door so you could run and hide. You weren’t safe, not even in your own home. 

Eventually, he did, and you shot out. You were losing control, that much you could sense. Everyone wanted something from you. Everyone wanted to fuck you and use you and blame you and shame you. You couldn’t breathe. Your chest was so tight that you pounded on it with your fist as you ran. You needed help. 

You don’t know how you found yourself in the living room of your professor’s house, sipping onto the mulled wine he gave you. But it did good to numb your mind. The fireplace you sat in front of made you feel like you were sinking into a hot bath. Maybe you were finally coming down with the cold you had caught on the trip. But your mind was foggy and that’s how you liked it. Everything was finally slowing. It felt nice to sit in Professor Hwang’s company, in the luxury of his comfortable townhouse. It felt soothing to listen to his voice take over your senses. It felt almost relieving feeling his large hand smoothen over the skin of your shoulder. It felt inevitable to find his lips on yours. 

And when he disrobed and walked into his room, you followed.

The legs you were using to walk didn’t feel like your own. It was far too cold and your dress was far too short. But there was too much alcohol in your veins to really make you feel a difference, let alone have you know your elbow from your ass. How much more could you run? Where else could you hide? You had exhausted all your safe harbors and running grounds. So you walked back home, though by the time you climbed the first flight of steps, you were stumbling. And a figure stood waiting outside your door. But it wasn’t Lee Jeno.

“What are you doing here?” you snapped at it.

He wore the same scowl he always wore when he saw you, but you didn’t have to be totally drunk to know that tonight’s expression was a cocktail of not just disapproval, but also concern. “Where have you been? Everyone’s looking all over for you,” he said.

“Why is everyone looking for me?” maybe they wanted to shame you.

“You told them you’d come to dinner. Why didn’t you come?” his eyebrows were slightly lifted and his head slightly tilted, like he was trying to search your face in the dim light of the street lamp. That’s how he liked you. In the darkness, where the lights could blind.

“Didn’t feel like it,” you said and stumbled on the step. But he strode ahead and caught you. You flinched away.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, and his voice wore only concern. How dispensable.

“What are you doing here?” you angered again and hurried to your door. You fumbled with your key and felt the burning behind your eyes when you couldn’t get it right.

He took it from your hands and unlocked the door. “Why have you been avoiding me?” he returned your question with one of his own and he followed you in. You didn’t want him here.

“What happened between us that night?” you replied in yet another question.

“Nothing,” he said, almost too quickly, like he’d been expecting you’d ask that as soon as you saw him. His head was shaking and his face was solemn. His eyes were round. Fearful.

“It couldn’t have been nothing. You…” he what? What could he have done that night that was more sickening than what you did?

“Y/N… nothing happened…” he inched towards you, shoulders hunched, arms stretched forward, approaching you with caution.

“How can you know?” you asked and you felt you would choke on your tears.

“I didn’t take as much as you, Y/N… I remember everything that happened. I got you back to your room that night…” he stood affront you and placed his hands on your forearms. You felt your chest reverberating from sniffles of tears that couldn’t fall.

“Why don’t you want me?” you croaked yet another accusation at him, much different to what you’d been accusing him of a moment ago. Did he fuck you? He didn’t fuck you. Why didn’t he fuck you? 

You were crazy.

“Y/N…” he whispered and his hands moved to the back of your shoulders, pulling you in. You resisted.

“Fuck me now,” you whispered back suddenly and you grabbed at his shirt and began to unbutton it. He held your wrists.

“Y/N, you’re burning up. You’ve got a fever. Just sit down--”

“Why won’t you fuck me, Donghyuck?” you gripped at his shirt because he didn’t allow your hands to do much else.

“Y/N, just sit down--”

“Why won’t you fuck me? Is it because I disgust you? Is it because you find me deplorable?” 

“Come here--”

“Is it because I deserve everything I get? Is it because not even my family spared my body?” you pushed against him. But he held you in a stronghold. Not letting you go.

“Shh…” he hushed and you felt hot, fat tears on your face. You gripped at him once more.

“Why won’t you fuck me?” he had messed up your pattern and now look what you did. “Please, fuck me,” so you begged.

“Y/N. Come here,” he pushed your face into his chest and held you tight.

“Please, fuck me,” you sobbed and you begged into him. He held you tighter till you felt you were suffocating again. But this was a different kind of suffocation.

“Please fuck me,” your sobs grew more desperate and your pleas more pathetic. But he held you so tight that you almost felt your blood cut off. You found yourself sinking into him and your eyes closing and your head spinning. Maybe you were still begging him. Maybe you were sinking once more. Maybe it was the room that was spinning. Maybe that’s why you were on top of him instead of against him. Maybe that’s why your head was heavy and your eyes still hot and his shirt still wet and his lips still warm. They were so warm on your head. You wanted to drink in the scent of him. But he moved much too soon.

“Don’t go,” you pleaded.

“I’m not. We need to bring your fever down,” he said gently. This boy hated you. Perhaps he pitied you more than he hated you in this moment. “Do you have any medicine?”

You shook your head. 

“I’ll go get some,” he replied and you took his hand and repeated,

“Don’t go.” You didn’t know what you’d do if he went.

He looked torn. Like he didn’t know whether to help your body or your mind. He held your gaze and sank to the floor, sitting cross-legged by your bed as you laid, searching your face.

“Have you eaten?”

You shook your head, “I don’t want to.”

He nodded and when he had concluded his internal battle, he took your hand in both of his and kissed the back of it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said gently. And you knew what he meant, though he couldn’t possibly have known.

You felt the tears hot on your cheeks once more. Maybe the fever was boiling them in your eyes. 

But how could it not be your fault? Everything happened because you willed it so. Everything that happened was your own doing. You looked away. But he whispered once more.

“None of it. None of it was your fault, okay?”

You intertwined your fingers with his. It didn’t matter if he pitied you or spoke those words from the kindness of his heart. It was nice to hear them as you slept.

You didn’t want to go for any of your classes. You wanted to stay in bed where you were comfortable and hidden. You were already failing everything. You’d probably have to repeat, anyway. What did it matter if you missed a few days?

But you had to get up. Staying in bed would mean that you’d have too much time to think about what you did. So you got up and dressed yourself and you went to campus. There weren’t very many places you could go.

Jeno found you and this time, you didn’t have it in you to hide away. He took one look at your face and he held you in his arms. You leaned into him because you couldn’t really fight it. And when it seemed you were going to break, he shielded you with his jacket and walked you away from a place where there would be too many seeing eyes to the safety of his training room where it was just the two of you. He didn’t ask you why you cried into his chest. He just held you till you cried from being undeserving of him. He was light and you were darkness. You didn’t want to dim him.

“I knew something was up,” he said as he pulled back and wiped your tears with his thumbs.

You looked into his kind eyes. The eyes that you had told yourself you could fall for. You leaned in and you kissed his lips. You didn’t deserve him. But you wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed from love and not lust. To be treated with tenderness rather than irk. Jeno kissed you slow and gave you everything your heart had been yearning for. 

Why?

Why did he give you your heart’s desire? 

You hadn’t really done much for him. 

You hadn’t even known him that long.

But he had decided that he wanted to give you his affection and his actions had mirrored his heart. 

You placed your cheek on the hard planes of his chest and you closed your eyes till you felt you were drifting. Why did you leave your bed? You had no energy left. You were too cold and your head was too light. 

Why did you feel undeserving of Jeno’s kindness? Why did being vulnerable to him feel like you were breaking a rule? What good were rules and patterns when all they had done was fuck with your head and make you…

You couldn’t finish the thought. You just held onto him tighter.

“Let’s get out of here,” he spoke in your ear.

“I don’t have the energy,” you said and it made you feel broken. Your eyes burned. 

He kissed your cheek and made you rest your head on his shoulder. “You’re sick. You should be in bed.”

You nodded.

Patterns, rules, rosters, black books.

It was all fucked up. You had fucked it all up. You hated what you had become. You hated your skin and your body and your very being. You cried in Jeno’s car and all he could do was hold your hand as he drove you. He didn’t know you much. He was playing the boyfriend to a girl he had met at a party just a few weeks ago. One he hardly even knew. Would he still be kind to you once he figured out how fucked up you were? Would he still want to chase you and dote on you once he found out what you had done?

It didn’t matter that Lee Haechan didn’t fuck you.

You had broken the pattern.

You had freed yourself.

Was the price of freedom always this gruesome? 

Jeno kept smiling patiently as you let him in. He sat you on the edge of your bed and crouched to take your shoes off for you.

Were you really so weak that people had to take care of you like this? First Haechan and now him? But Jeno wasn’t people, was he? What else could you have felt when you hadn’t really known the benevolence he was giving you?

Your world was divided into good guys and fuckboys. You’d never give good guys the time of day. Your nights would usually end when the fuckboy would nut. Jeno wasn’t a good guy. Jeno wasn’t a fuckboy, either. He was just a decent fucking human being. 

Could you have him?

What would you do once you had him?

You didn’t know how to keep a person. You enjoyed your solitude. 

He was so pure and you were so vile. He was so gentle and you were so brazen. He was so kind and you were so cruel. He was good and you were evil.

But it felt good to be cared for by an angel. You were going to destroy him. But you didn’t have the energy in you to warn him. So you sat and accepted everything he was giving you. But your lips spoke of their own accord.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

He looked up from your feet and stroked the side of your cheek. “I like you.”

“Why? Why do you like me?”

He shrugged, though the kind smile didn’t leave his face. “I don’t know. Why does anyone like anyone?”

“But you don’t know anything about me.”

He nodded like he agreed but wanted you to see something else. “True. We don’t know each other that well yet. But I still like you, and we can get to know each other.”

You could get to know each other. What a strange proposition. No one had really wanted to know you. And you weren’t sure they’d like you much when they did.

“You don’t know the things I’ve done,” more tears fell from your eyes. He didn’t wipe them this time. He studied your face, like he was choosing his next words.

“We all make mistakes, Y/N. I’ve made mistakes, too. But I still like you.”

He was an innocent. He had no idea what he was talking about. What good would it do him to find out?

“I want to tell you someday,” you whispered and surprised yourself. Would you ever tell him like you said you would? He had no clue what would hit him. He didn’t know you. His idea of you was so different from your idea of yourself. 

“Take all the time you need,” he held your hands.

Maybe you could have this. Maybe it really was this easy sometimes. Maybe love was as easy to give as Jeno made it seem. How difficult could it be to receive it?

“Let’s go to your cabin someday,” you said softly. He smiled the widest smile so far, one that made his eyes disappear into crescents atop his cheeks. It made you smile in return. Your mind slowed and your heart swelled. 

You didn’t know him. 

He didn’t know you, either. Maybe that was a blessing. Because the way he treated you made you hate yourself just a little less.

Patterns were like shackles. Getting up meant brushing your teeth thrice and going out meant scrubbing till your skin burned raw. Eating meant precise calculations and not eating meant having to start all over again. Reds came before blues and yellows before purples and you could fuck the same fuckboy twice but only if it maintained the harmony of your roster. Patterns shackled your wrists and your ankles but kept you from destruction. 

But you had broken your pattern. Maybe you had freed yourself of your shackles. 

Walking to campus didn’t feel numbing anymore. Putting on a pretty dress this morning felt soothing. Brushing your hair without counting your strokes felt comfortable. Stepping on grass and smelling the flowers in the air felt relaxing. You were here. You were present. You were alive. You were okay. You were well.

Your blood had only known how to burn hot in your veins. You didn’t know you had the ability to feel the warmth that you felt as you walked towards Jeno’s training room. Was this the difference between love and lust? One burnt you in a fire and the other slowed the flames to a warmth? You couldn’t be in love with Lee Jeno. You hadn’t known him long. You didn’t even know what love was.

But your heart was full and your mind calm. You were walking to see him. So why couldn’t you find him?

Why did you suddenly feel the eyes of many boring into the back of your head?

Why did the warmth in your blood turn to ice on your skin?

Why did the sweet melody of birds around you turn to murmurs in your ears?

Why was everyone sneaking glances at you?

Why was everyone talking about you?

“There she is.”

“Can’t believe she’s showing her face.”

“The campus slut.”

“What a whore.”

“I knew she was a slut. Didn’t think she was a full on homewrecker.”

“Homewrecker.”

“Homewrecker.”

“Homewrecker.”

“Is it true?” a voice broke through the murmurs, like it was speaking to you, not about you. Lee Haechan stood in your way.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Lee Haechan pushed his phone to your face. And you saw it clear as day.

You bent over in front of your camera. And Professor Hwang right behind you.

You didn’t say a word.

You didn’t move an inch.

The murmurs grew louder in your ears like they were trying to drown you.

“Let’s go,” Haechan grabbed at your wrist.

“Where?”

“Somewhere else.”

“I have nowhere to go.”

“Come.”

You couldn’t go home. And you couldn’t stay here. So you followed him all the way to his car while the gazes of everyone in your path hit you like daggers. 

You left it all behind, but not before you saw Jeno’s face of betrayal as he saw you ride away with Lee Haechan. 

He kept driving and you kept sticking to your phone like a vice. The videos kept coming. The pictures kept coming. The vitriol kept coming. You had earned it all.

‘She’s always been a homewrecker. She tried to seduce my boyfriend. Here’s proof.’

‘we been knew she a slut, i’ve got a whole library of her nudes lol’

‘weird tits’

‘why is she moaning like she’s dying i'm not even hard’

‘i’ve fucked her she’s boring and kinda loose’

‘lmao has everyone seen her naked? Y’all have receipts’

‘Woobin ur pictures look fake asf’

“yeah ngl, that doesn’t even look like her’

‘are her tits fake?’

‘anyone got pics of her puss?’

‘i do brb posting’

‘Guys, revenge porn is not it’

‘yeah, you can go to jail asshole’

‘shut up slut she sent it to us’

‘yeah but your posting it without her permission sooooo’

‘It’s the criminal act for me’

‘You idiots need to take it down or I'm reporting’

‘who wants pussy pics?’

‘she fucked my uncle’ 

‘fuck off no one believes u’

‘is she even on this?’

‘hi y/n i’m dtf and my dick isn’t as wrinkly’

The vitriol kept coming and you kept reading. You read and you read and you saw yourself in every picture you remembered you took and even the ones you didn’t remember taking. People got it right and people got it wrong. They mostly got it right. Everything they were saying was true. You read on and you felt you could’ve read forever. But Haechan’s hand came in and took the phone from you.

You didn’t realize you had stopped travelling. You didn’t realize you were sitting on the hood of his car. You didn’t realize how far he must have driven to take you here. Away from the city where the river was as clean as nature had intended it to be and the manmade landscape looked like a distant picture behind it. 

“Why did you do it?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back. He nodded.

“Did you know he was married?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know he has a daughter our age?”

“Yes.”

He nodded once and looked away. Like he was organizing his questions.

“Why did you film it?” he asked. Not as an accusation. Just a question.

“I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I don’t remember filming it,” you spoke barely above a whisper.

“Do you remember posting it?”

“No.”

“Did he know you were filming him?”

“I don’t know.”

“He could lose his job, Y/N.”

You looked up towards the river, unconvinced with your own next words, “We’re both adults.”

“Yes. But you’re a student. And he’s a teacher. You filmed him.”

“Yes.”

He looked down to think. Then he looked ahead with you.

“You could get in trouble, too.”

“Yes.”

“Do you… you really don’t remember filming it? Or posting it?”

“No.”

“Do you often have gaps in your memory?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why did you do it?” he asked again.

Your breath came out in between a scoff and a dry sob. You turned your head to look at him. “Because I’m fucked up.”

“Because you’re fucked up,” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you said in the same broken voice. And perhaps he could see that you were about to wallow in your self pity. Because his tone grew colder.

“That’s going to be your free pass for everything? That you’re fucked up?”

You looked away, ashamed. You shook your head. A long pause stretched between the two of you. Like he didn’t know what to say anymore. So you reached in your bag and handed him a pocket sized, leather bound diary.

“What’s this?” He took it.

“My black book,” you couldn’t speak up.

“Black book?”

You nodded. “A list of all the people I’ve fucked. All the people I want to fuck.”

Haechan’s face didn’t betray any notable reaction. He flipped through the pages and paused only when he saw his name. He didn’t say anything. So you talked.

“It has to be in order. All these names. I need to go through them in order. I’ve had this since the first semester. If I don’t do things in order, it…” you looked away. You sounded crazy even to your ears. But Haechan’s face was unchanged.

“It stresses you?” he tried to understand.

“I spiral.”

“Are you spiraling now?” he asked. 

You nodded. What else would explain any of this?

“Is it because of me?” he traced his name on your book.

You looked at him. Was it because of him? Was it because of Jeno? Was it because of Professor Hwang? Who broke your pattern first? 

What did it matter? What did it matter who broke your pattern? Patterns were fucked up and you were fucked up and all of this was because of no one but yourself.

“This isn’t right, Y/N.”

“Yeah.”

“You need help.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t know.”

You looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he lifted the black book, “This has been going on since freshman year? The first semester? And you didn’t get the help you needed then?”

You looked at the ground and your eyes burned once more.

“What you told me that night… was it true?” he asked. And it made your heart hurt more than anything you had read on your phone. His question cut you open and made your tears fall and your shoulder shake. Who would believe a mentally unstable girl? Of course he thought you lied. He probably thought you were a pathological liar amongst all the other things.

But you nodded. You didn’t lie to him and he didn’t lie to you. That’s not how you worked. He could hate you and you could hate him. But you didn’t lie to each other. He saw you for what you were and you saw him.

His pupils lifted like he was thinking and he swallowed.

“Who did this to you?” he asked.

You couldn’t answer. You never had an answer. What did it matter who did it? It’s what you deserved. 

Haechan sighed. Like he had thought better of his question. “You need help, Y/N,” he repeated.

“I know,” you agreed, though your voice was hoarse.

“I know some people.”

“Okay.”

“I could take you there right now.”

Your heart dropped. This was soon. This was much too soon. You couldn’t do it. You didn’t have it in you.

“Just let me die,” you whispered.

You saw the clenching of his jaw and the pressing of his lips. And without warning, he flung your black book towards the river with as much strength as his body could muster.

“Face your fucking problems, Y/N,” he said.

You cried. He was right. How could he be wrong? You needed help and no one had ever given it to you. You hadn’t given it to yourself. You had an opportunity to be better. He was giving it to you. Were you really that far gone that you weren’t accepting it? You trusted him. You hated him and you trusted him.

“Take me,” you cried.

He didn’t need telling twice. He got in the car and drove you where he promised.

Clarity is a strange phenomenon. You think you have it in moments you absolutely don’t. Where things feel so real you almost believe them. But when you open your eyes, and really open them, you start to lose faith in everything there ever was.

You lost everything. You failed your classes. You lost the few friends you had. You were put on probation. And your videos and pictures lived in everyone’s phones forevermore. You couldn’t run. You couldn’t hide. You couldn’t even escape. 

But you felt free. For the first time in your life, you felt like you could see. You finally felt regret. You finally started to reflect. You felt the pain you had caused everyone you knew. But most of all, you finally felt the pain you had been causing to yourself.

Haechan was right. It wasn’t your fault.

Yet all these years, you’d lived with the burden that it was. You had punished your body for it. You had punished your mind for it. The food you would eat was to harm or ornate your body. The patterns you built were to enslave or protect your mind. You looked for control in places you couldn’t find it. Because all that control had been taken from you all those years. Your body didn’t belong to you. Your mind didn’t belong to you. You numbed your soul thinking that if you thought any less of yourself, that it would make it all okay. That if everyone hated you altogether, you’d finally be seen the way you saw yourself. You kept punishing yourself. For something you didn’t even do.

You’d been living in the past. Because you never healed from it. Because you had never given yourself the opportunity to heal. Because you thought punishing yourself was how you could fix everything that happened. Because never once did it occur to you that you could’ve helped yourself without waiting for someone to help you. 

You’re not really sure you had clarity. 

All you know is that for the first time ever, you remembered all the things that happened to you. All the things you had done. You had fallen to your knees and confessed like you were begging to a deity. Every day you fell to your knees and cried and remembered and each confession brought with it a new suppressed memory. You cried for all the years you had lost and all the times you had punished yourself for things you couldn’t possibly have controlled. You cried for little Y/N and all the burden she had been carrying for you. She was so innocent. So vulnerable. So young. And you blamed her till she was tainted in your memories. You cried when you told her it wasn’t her fault. How could it have been? She was a child. You cried when you begged for her forgiveness. For not believing her. For punishing her. For hating her. You cried when you forgave her. And when you cried so hard that you couldn’t move, not an inch, not a hair, not a speck, so hard that you felt you’d never breath, never stand, never function, so hard that you felt the life of you weakening beneath your knees, you set her free. You let her go. Little Y/N was free.

And in the darkness of the night when your tears drowned you but didn’t suffocate you anymore, you thanked Y/N as she was now. For being her own savior. 

Maybe you didn’t have all the clarity in the world. But you knew your eyes were wider open than before as you sat in the rose garden of the center and took in the wide expanse of grass around you. You could smell every bit of it. And you could see the boy sitting in front of you on the lawn chair. You looked at the roses and he looked at you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have this?” he asked, pointing to the vanilla frap he’d gotten you along with other goodies.

“I’m actually not allowed sugar. Or caffeine,” you smiled at him.

“Wow. This place don’t mess around,” his lips pressed into an impressed expression and he took a healthy sip from your glass. “Noted for next time.”

Next time? After everything, Jeno wanted there to be a next time?

“Tell me how you feel,” he asked softly.

“I feel okay,” you nodded and you smiled. His face didn’t change, so you reached for his hand. “Really, I am.”

“When do you get out?” he asked, stroking his thumb on the back of your hand.

“I’m not sure. I like it here,” you leaned back in your chair and inhaled the sweet smell of roses all around you. How nice it felt to smell them. Almost as good as it felt to plant them.

“Y/N…” Jeno trailed away as he looked at his feet. Contemplating. Wondering what he could say and what he could not.

“You can say it,” you smiled at him, though you weren’t sure what he wanted to bring up first. There was too much in the tangles you had left behind.

“The pictures… they’ve… they’ve been taken down. The feminist society filed a report against everyone sharing your pictures without your consent,” he kept stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. You realized he was worried. 

You weren’t. The pictures and videos were the least of your concern. They didn’t bother you.

But Jeno was worried. And he didn’t hate you. And that took you by surprise.

“I heard you hit Woobin,” you said, amused.

“He was asking for it,” he pouted. He looked so cute when he pouted. So you reached in to pull his cheek.

“Jeno, you can’t hit every boy that has been an asshole after having sex with me. You’ll have to go through the entire campus.”

He flinched and brooded cutely for a while while you grinned and stroked his frown with the backs of your fingers. But then, he asked you what you’d been expecting.

“Lee Haechan…” he looked at you. You looked back into his warm eyes. They were confused. Of course they were. You hadn’t done much to reassure them.

“Go on,” you encouraged so he'd know it was alright to talk about this.

“Are you… did you ever…” he didn’t know how to put this. You had told him about your compulsions and your rosters and your black books. You told him all the things you did, even while you were with him. Maybe the information was too much to absorb at one time.

“No,” you shook your head for him.

“Do you… do you… like him?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head and took his hand again. You liked holding it.

“Then… what’s your relationship… to him?”

“Hmm…” you turned your head up to think. You didn’t have to think much. You knew. “He understands me.”

Jeno was a smart guy. Perhaps in some ways, he felt you, too. Because he didn’t need an explanation beyond what you said. He just squeezed your hand and said,

“I’d like to understand you too, someday.”

It took you by surprise once again. 

“You still want to try being with me? After everything I’ve done?” you asked him without masking it.

“We all make mistakes, Y/N,” he told you what he had told you all that time before, “And everyone deserves a second chance.”

You felt your heart melt. You had been right. Even though you'd been out of your mind, your heart had seen Lee Jeno for what he was. Kind-hearted. Pure. Gentle in his judgments. Sweet with his words. Innocent in his heart. 

You took a deep inhale, like his words were healing you and you needed to breathe them into the deepest pits of your lungs and burn them into your heart. 

“I’m going to get better for you,” you promised him. And his lips met your forehead.

“You need to get better for yourself. And when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

Those were the kindest words anyone had ever told you.

You held onto them in the hours and days and weeks to come till you finally walked down the path of the green grass and left the rose garden behind.

A second chance and a new life. 

You were you and you were reborn and old you and new you could coexist within you. 

This body was yours and it was a gift. You started loving it for all the things it did for you, rather than all the things it could do for everyone else.

Your mind was yours and yours alone. No one could own it or enslave it. Not even you.

Life had second chances, and you had taken it. You gave yourself a second chance. You were deserving of a second chance. You were deserving of all that was good and pure and true in this world.

You smiled bright as you held onto the acceptance letter of your new college. It felt nice to have poured out your story to them and have it be validated in this way. You had new things and kept some old things. Some things were better left in the past, and with some you had to learn to make peace that this was so. You couldn’t change people’s minds about you. But their murmurs would have followed till you could hear no more. So you left them behind. And you smiled at your new opportunity. You had heard that it knocked at the door but once. You welcomed it with open arms.

You decided you needed to share in your joy. So you picked the roses from the garden you tended and tied them together with a ribbon. You didn’t lament that you had never received flowers before. You felt joy that you were about to give flowers to someone for the first time. 

You smiled as you walked, smelling the roses every so often and simmering in the sweet smell of them. Jeno would like them and you were going to be okay. He would see you and he’d smile the smile that made his eyes disappear and you’d be okay. You were okay. You were going to be okay. 

As you walked to Jeno, you could’ve sworn that you saw Lee Haechan drive past you and meet your eyes, if only for a second. Out in the sun, in broad daylight, where no darkness shielded you and no lights blinded you.

And in your heart, you wished him well.

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

#haechan fic #jeno fic #nct fic #ficscafe #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #neosmutcollective #dreamwritersnet #haechan angst #haechan romance #haechan smut #jeno romance #jeno smut #lee jeno fic #lee haechan fic #lee donghyuck #nct smut #nct pwp #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct dream au #nct dream angst #jeno angst #haechan x reader #jeno x reader #lee jeno

[whumpurr]

Adrien and Sawdust part 2

Warnings: pet whump (and all that comes with that), disordered eating, emeto, unreliable narrator, a very brief and vague mention of past non con

masterlist

part 1

“Shit!” Adrien gasped, immediately and instinctively lunging forward to... Help? Hold? Sawdust, only to have the poor boy yelp and try to get away from Adrien, tipping over onto his side and almost falling into his own vomit. Adrien yanked himself back. The vomit was mostly bile, Adrien wasn’t sure when the last time Sawdust had a real meal was.

“I’m- m- so-sorry, Saw-Sawdust is so-orry,” Sawdust warbled out past trembling, wet lips.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, shh,” He didn’t reach towards him again, instead holding his hands passively in front of his own body. “Breathe for me, okay? I’ve got a mop somewhere, hang on.” Adrien gave the pet some space as he got up, finding a mop and a bucket. He quickly came back and gets to work cleaning up.

“Let- I can help, Master,” Sawdust whimpered, pushing himself to be on his hands and knees once again.

“No, no it’s fine.” Adrien finished cleaning quickly, pushing the mop and bucket off to the side to deal with later. “Let me get you some water, can I see your hands? I’ll get the tape off of them.”

Sawdust simply furrowed his brow and tilted his head.

--

Master wanted… Sawdust’s paws? Surely it’s to punish him for making a mess of the floor and then allowing Master to do all the work in cleaning it up. What will Master do? Will he use his belt on Sawdust’s arms? Or worse, a knife? Will he burn him?

It’s only what Sawdust deserves after all.

He shakily sat back on his bent legs and raised his paws for his master, trying to keep himself from crying. He wasn’t allowed to cry until the punishment actually started. He didn’t have anything to cry about yet, and if he started, then Master would only make the punishment worse, give him something to really cry about.

Master got up and went back into the kitchen. Sawdust remained with his arms out until he spotted Master’s tall form returning.

Holding a pair of scissors.

Sawdust tried to be brave, he really did. He wanted to be a good pet for his new master, his new master who was nice enough to bring him into his house instead of leaving him outside in the cold. But as Master kneeled down in front of Sawdust, and took one of his paws in his calloused fingers, tears finally rolled down Sawdust’s cheeks and he screamed, pulling his paws back to his chest.

--

Adrien dropped the scissors immediately, leaning back. He hadn’t held Sawdust’s hand that hard, he didn't understand what was happening.

“I’m sorry, Master!” Sawdust screams out, “I will behave, I promise, it won’t- won’t happen again!” He choked on his own sobs as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Adrien asked, brow furrowed in concern, “I was just gonna cut the tape of your hands, did I hurt you?”

Sawdust seemed to be too far gone into his panic, holding his hands to his chest and screaming as he curled up as small as he could. He was hiccupping and sobbing so much that Adrien was scared he was going to make himself sick again. He’d turned his side to Adrien, and the man finally got to get a better look at Sawdust.

His body was bony, he could see the ridges of his spine through his tattered t-shirt. Along his legs were mazes of scares, splattered with bruises that were old enough at least that they were turning yellow. Adrien assumed that the people with that organization that had him weren’t hurting him, at least. From the looks of it though, they certainly weren’t feeding him.

Adrien was well aware that he was intimidating, especially to someone so small. Over six feet tall, his long black hair tied back in a low pony tail, his muscular arms and strong hands holding a pair of scissors; it couldn’t have looked good to Sawdust. He moved further back away from him, but Sawdust didn’t stop wailing. Adrien backed up until his back was pressed to the back of the sofa, and only then did Sawdust even open his eyes.

The small form of the pet hiccupped, wide, watery eyes peeking out from his curled form.

Adrien found himself somewhat curled up as well, knees drawn up just a bit, his socked feet pressed to the carpet. As Sawdust looked at him, Adrien gave as docile a smile as he could and a gentle wave. Sawdust’s bottom lip wobbled and his breath hitched with his tear filled gasps, eyes and cheeks a contrasting red to the sickly pallor of the rest of his body.

“I know you can understand me.” Adrien said, voice soft, “I… I guess you’re not going to believe me though. I understand that. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not quite interested- uh- in being your master, either.”

Sawdust’s eyes went wide and his brow pinched, his whole body flinching in response to that.

“I’m not gonna give you away, either!” Adrien hurried to correct himself. “I- Okay, look, sorry. I think maybe,” He glanced out at the window, seeing that the sun was beginning to set. “Maybe you should just get some rest. I can show you your room, if you’ll come with me.”

Adrien stood to his full height, Sawdust warily followed behind him on all fours. The pet’s breath was still coming out in shaky gasps and whines as he choked back the tears that wanted to fall. His body was unsteady, even on his hands and knees. Adrien wouldn’t dare try to have him walk yet, he didn’t exactly want Sawdust to fall and hit his head on something.

Luckily, the stairs didn’t hinder Sawdust too much as he crawled up them to the second story. Adrien flicked on lights as he went, the long corridor seeming less empty just with the presence of Sawdust in his home. His hand found the golden knob of the door, the one that led into the guest room that he’d found himself sleeping in not too long ago.

He’d since moved back into the master bedroom, the guest room having been unused since that point a couple weeks ago. He pushed the door open, stepping inside and holding it for Sawdust to follow. The room hadn’t had enough time to take on any sort of musty scent, thankfully.

“This is going to be your room. Get some rest, okay?”

Sawdust crept into the room and sat down. The window was guarded by some thin curtains that let in some of the setting sunlight, so Adrien didn’t turn on the light as he left the room, shutting the door quietly.

He lingered outside the bedroom for a moment, but he didn’t hear any movement. No banging at the door or trying to escape through the window. That was good at least. He turned, footsteps heavy as he went back downstairs.

As Adrien surveyed his home, his eyes caught on the duffel bag that his pet came with, the bag that he hadn’t gone through yet. It was a bit dirty, nowhere near as filthy as Sawdust, but still. He picked it up- it was surprisingly light- and sat down on the couch with it on his lap. The zipper pulled easily and he dragged it open, peering into the bag, scared of what he’d find. Some kind of torture device, maybe?

He was met with piles of…

Dog ear headbands. And beneath them, fake tails with belt loops at the base. Adrien’s brow creased and he blinked down at them for a couple seconds, reaching in and pulling one out. They came in matching sets, one pair of ears to one tail. They ranged from browns that matched Sawdust’s hair, to bright blues and reds, and snowy whites.

They were all in perfect condition, like the ones that Sawdust had on at the moment. Adrien had a suspicion that Sawdust’s previous owner practiced more upkeep on these than on the pet himself. Adrien took them out, setting them all aside, each pair of ears with its respective tail, laid out nicely on the couch next to him. Little stray hairs of fake fur laid across his clothing and floated through the air by the end of it. There were seven sets, all together.

“Is he going to want these back?” Adrien wondered to himself, turning one of the tails over in his hands. “I’m not going to force him to wear them. Or the collar for that matter, but…” He wasn’t quite sure if Sawdust would be comfortable without them. Sawdust seemed to think through and through that he was a dog, and Adrien was worried about upsetting him.

There was one more thing in the bag. A folded piece of notebook paper. Adrien fished it out and unfolded it, eyes scanning the words laid out in front of him.

“Your name is Sawdust.

You’re just a dumb mutt, you don’t know what’s best for you, so listen to me at all times.

This bag is yours. The things in it are yours. Always take care of them, because they’re gifts from your master.

Don’t eat human food. It will make you sick. Dogs are supposed to eat dog food.

Don’t trouble your master. He has better things to do.

Don’t hurt the other dogs. They earn me money and you don’t.

Behave. Always.

You’re a dog for your master to treat and use however he wants.

If you follow these rules, you’ll always be taken care of and cared for, and loved.”

Adrien’s stomach churned as he read line after line. Was this a note for Sawdust from his previous master? His heart ached. If you follow these rules, you’ll be loved. The poor pet, forced to earn any sort of care, Adrien couldn’t restrain the feelings that bubbled up in him at that. The anger, the rage, the deep sadness. A few hot tears rolled down his cheeks, and he quickly wiped them away. He wanted so badly to go to Sawdust and hold him, feed him, and tell him that he was safe here, but he didn’t know how Sawdust would react to that, and he doubted that he’d believe him at all anyways.

His head was swimming with things that he could do, things he should do. He decided to settle on focusing on what needed to happen first. He snatched his keys off of his kitchen counter and left the house, locking it up tight behind him.

Adrien… He didn’t exactly trust that Sawdust didn’t want to run. He was, however, fairly certain that Sawdust would be too scared to run, and he didn’t think that Sawdust knew how to open a door or unlock the lock on it.

The car was noisy starting up, the engine sputtering for a moment. Adrien was certain that Sawdust must have heard that, and he wondered if the pet knew that Adrien was leaving for a minute.

The sun was setting, there was only a limited amount of time Adrien had to get what he needed, so he headed off to the grocery store as fast as he could make it. He knew that in order to pick up everything he needed, he’d actually have to make his way into town. As much as he despised that, he didn’t want to miss his window and have to wait until the next day to get the items.

Buildings began to pop up here and there as the road turned from dirt to pavement, the area only getting more densely populated as he continued on. His hands unconsciously gripped the steering wheel tighter as he saw more and more people out and about. He found his way into the city, spotting people laughing, enjoying a night out.

Adrien didn’t remember the last time he’d done that. He almost wanted to do that, gather some friends and go to a bar for a drink or two some time.

“What friends? You wouldn’t even have fun like that, anyways.” He chuckled to himself as he pulled into a parking space in front of the grocery. He put a face mask on over his mouth and nose, and stuffed his long hair up into a beanie. Anything to hide any part of him.

Adrien wasn’t comfortable in crowds anymore. The noise, the activity, it was all too many things for him to keep track of, but it was a weekday so he was holding out hope that the store wouldn’t be too full. The parking lot wasn’t full, at least.

He took a deep breath and opened the car door, getting out and making his way into and through the grocery store as quickly as he could. He snagged one of the small carts and pushed it along, picking up everything he’d made a mental note of.

“Dog food, dog food,” Adrien muttered, scanning the placards above the aisles to find what he was looking for, eventually darting down towards the pet care section. He felt sick picking up a small bag of dog kibble and throwing it into the cart. “Dogs can eat anything, though, can’t they?”

Under the realization that dogs could technically eat human food, at least table scraps, Adrien glanced down at the slumped bag of chow. He could at least try with some human food. Sawdust might be hungry enough that he’d accept it, especially if it was things that would normally be given to dogs, like meat. The pet certainly looked like he could use some meat, and Adrien was pretty sure that he had some left overs from take out a couple nights ago.

Adrien did his best to keep his head down as he got his shopping done. The eyes of other shoppers were boring holes through his body, and the last thing he wanted to do was make eye contact with any of them. It made his skin crawl, but it wasn’t an option to simply order the things he needed online, it was nothing short of necessary to get them that night. He put dog food and a few TV dinners in his cart, eventually making his way over to the cereal aisle to pick up some more of that when a specific item caught his eye.

A box of unfrosted wheat cereal. The pieces seemed to be rolled up into an almost pellet like shape, and without the sugar it almost resembled dog food. Adrien took it off the shelf and turned it over in his hands, reading the ingredients. It seemed as though it was a lot more healthy for people than dog food, and he could probably trick Sawdust into thinking that it was dog food, albeit some strange, fancy type. He tossed it into the cart along with something sweet and sugary for himself before wheeling the cart along. Next stop, something to deal with Sawdust’s hygiene.

As much as he didn’t want to bring it up around the pet, Sawdust was far from clean. He didn’t know if Sawdust would allow him to bathe him, or if he’d panic, or if he’d go along with it against his actual will. What’s more, Adrien wasn’t sure if Sawdust would let him bathe him with human shampoo. Better to be safe than sorry, Adrien thought as he grabbed some puppy shampoo and put it into the cart. He didn’t want to have to come back out.

Adrien picked up a few more essentials and self checked out as quickly as he could, finding that it was already dark by the time he made it out of the store. While he pulled out of his parking spot, all he could hope was that Sawdust was getting some rest while he was out.

--

Sawdust was not resting at all. The instant Master left, Sawdust slunk to one of the corners and curled up there, back to the walls’ intersection and legs pulled up to hide behind. His eyes were wide and wild, frantically glancing around the room, so intense and panicked it made his head and heart pound.

Being in a bedroom never meant good things for Sawdust. Dogs belong outside in the yard or in the shed, being in the bedroom meant horrible things. Sawdust tried over and over to swallow down his worry, wanting so badly to believe that his new master wouldn’t be so cruel to him. The seconds ticked by like molasses, the time Master was away felt like an eternity, not because Sawdust wanted to see him, but because the pet spent each moment catastrophizing and thinking up even worse outcomes.

His stomach felt like it was eating itself. He should’ve been grateful, really, the last people he was with may have kept him in his kennel for hours and hours, but he had gotten the chance to eat just before being put up for adoption. At least they understood that dogs can’t eat human food.

Sawdust’s gut twisted with an obscene vitriol towards his new master, just for a moment. His new master mustn’t have been smart at all to try and feed him human food. Or maybe he thought Sawdust was too stupid to realize what it was, or maybe it was some kind of test to see if he’d take it.

No, no. Sawdust shouldn’t be thinking such things about somebody who was nice enough to not keep him outside. Somebody who could end his life so easily. Sawdust was glad that such feelings didn’t come often. They would only occasionally drift in, and he’d crush them down just as often. He was happy that most times, he was content with just being a stupid pet who didn’t know any better than what their master wanted for them.

He took a couple deep breaths, wincing in the way his ribs ached at the stretch, though some part of him felt justice in the pain. It was what he deserved for thinking such thoughts, after all. He exhaled shakily, body trembling.

Sawdust didn’t know where his master had gone off to. Maybe to get some friends to break him in with. Whatever the future held, it was the future. And though Sawdust knew unbearably well that nothing could stop it from coming, he found some comfort in its certainty.

For the time being, he would make himself as small as possible, take up the smallest amount of space he could, and hope.

-----------

Taglist: @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @neuro-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone

#whump #whump ocs #pet whump #whump recovery #whumpee #whump blog #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #my writing #my ocs #adrien #sawdust #once again pls tell me what u think #and thank u for reading!

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

(/rp! also, huge trigger warning for assault, graphic violence, death, abuse, possessive behaviour, obsession, mental breaks, hallucination, really fucking creepy treatment of a corpse, unreliable narrators, the perspective of a villain, torture, manipulation, and gaslighting! this gets pretty fucked up).

When Dream sees Tommy for the first time, there is no dramatic shift, no acknowledgement that his life had changed forever. No knowledge of the fact. All he sees is a skinny little kid who's obnoxious and loud, and he catalogues him just as one of Philza’s strays and leaves it at that.

No, it’s when Tommy drives the sword into his chest for the first time, and Dream wakes up from his non-canon death smiling despite itself when it clicks. He’s not sure what “it” is, exactly, but it’s just something about him Dream hadn’t seen in anyone before that has him hooked, captivated from the beginning.

(There's the vague recollection that he was like Tommy once, a bright eyed naive youth too loud for his own good, but that’s not unique. It’s not that, at least not entirely.)

The conflict was not started by Tommy, nor was he of any particular threat to Dream, but he was fun. So he ignored the rest, and took the boy's music discs. He knew Tommy well enough that he’d fight for them, and fight he did, and even though Dream lost in the end he laughed all the while. He’d played many a game before, but none quite this fun!

They both know this isn’t where it’ll end. Only one hopes it will be.

——

Dream didn’t care much about Wilbur's little revolutionary movement at first. As long as he obeyed the rules, and stayed in the server, it wouldn’t matter whether he delusionally thought he was under his own governance or not.

This changed immediately when he learnt Tommy was involved.

L'Manburg, a name he didn’t bother to remember until he learnt Tommy named it, was tiny, barely any more than a scavenged old world vehicle and some trees. It’s populace was peaceful, only Wilbur even an adult. None of that mattered. It wasn’t that the nation was a threat, though he certainly wouldn’t dissuade his friends fear that it was. But fighting L'Manburg meant fighting Tommy, and Dream wouldn't pass up the opportunity for anything.

He grinned with glee behind his mask as he blew Tommy's strange dirt hovel “embassy” sky high, enthusiastically threatened Tommy before remembering half heartedly to threaten the rest of the nation. He made dealings, found weak links- a new immigrant to the SMP that joined L'Manburg after the war began, it turns out. He offered extravagant promises in exchange for their betrayal, hiding the strings attached to his fingers.

Oh, but it was all worth it when the person with the eyes of an old god lead the revolutionaries into a trap, all worth it when they descended on them at once. It was definitely worth it to kill Tommy, kill Tommy, see him scream and cry in pain and stumble trying to escape and him taking a shuddering last breath. Dream had never seen anything as beautiful.

(It was a war, and feelings like this were okay in wars, right? It’s not like he was obsessed, it’s not like he was a monster. He’d been trying to be good, and killing your enemies was good, right?)

He killed Tommy a second time, too. The boy with shaking hands and a leg hanging limp challenged him to a duel for his nations future. His loss was assured, and Dream knew Tommy knew that also. This one was quicker, Tommy dead between the arrow entering his skull and his broken body make a loud thud against the planks, but it was no less fascinating. If only he had infinite canon lives, Dream would happily give up any ambitions and spend eternity seeing the boy die in so many fascinating ways.

(No, what the fuck was he thinking? The SMP was worth more than some stupid kid, and Dream wasn’t so inept with morality to know torturing someone over and over, killing them, was wrong.)

(Yet, it was so tempting he was almost ready to renounce morality wholeheartedly.)

It eventually comes to the discs again, Tommy handing Dream his prized possessions for some silly little nation. Dream knew Tommy would do anything to get them back. Having so much control was addicting, even more than control of anything else. Dream had learnt long ago that if you didn’t have complete power over anything, people would take the power from you and make you hurt.

So why did he care more about control of some kid than avoiding his own pain?

——

Dream would have sided with Tommy. Really, he would have, but Schlatt just had the better deal.

He holds the book in his hands, power filling him. He repeats the incantation, sacrifices the blood from his veins. He stares into the face of a man near-identical.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, voice level. “”What do you wish of me?””

Dream grins behind his mask. “”Tommy.””

—

Wishes must come true, Dream thinks, as he sits on the beach of Logstedshire, Tommy passed out and leaning against his arm.

Oh, what he’d give for this moment to last forever. Alas, it passes, like they all do. Still, Tommy's getting so obedient lately- barely even grumbling as he threw his item into the hole. Part of him missed when Tommy would fight back all the while- his pained screams were entertaining. Still, it was safer this way, and more enjoyable in the long run. He’d hate to have his little songbird break it’s neck against the cage doors, never to sing again.

He’s not sure when life outside of Tommy became a chore, but he remembers dimly that it wasn’t always like that. There was a Dream long ago that wouldn’t give up friends and family, who'd cry over losing them even if he’d cut their threads voluntarily. He wasn’t that Dream anymore, the numb feeling in his chest a sign of growth. It didn’t matter that everything outside of Tommy was so miserable, because just being around the boy was a feeling a hundredfold better than any happiness he felt before.

Still, he had duties and responsibilities. Ones that seemed so important long ago, so fulfilling. Maybe one day they’d feel like that again. He had plans, from what he learnt. Government had not left him satisfied, but- whatever you could call what his relationship with Tommy was, it definitely did. Family, he supposed, recognising the boys actions towards him and his brothers. If he could make the entire server like that, that’d be a happiness greater than any other, apart from how Tommy made him feel.

He spent time with Tubbo, getting further and further towards getting that stupid fucking ram boy to calling him a friend and giving him Tommy's disc, all he wanted from him.

(He wasn’t jealous, of course he wasn’t. The anger he felt whenever Tommy called Tubbo a friend, that wasn’t jealousy. That was just logical).

Far more interesting was checking on the prison's completion. When it’s completed, it’d truly be a thing of beauty. Of course, his favourite part was the main cell, that he’d put so much thought into. He’d included all the little things that made Tommy squirm, made his breath hitch and eyes dart around fearfully. That would be so much fun.

(Tommy would learn to appreciate the fun in time, too. He was a smart boy, if irritatingly yet fascinatingly stubborn. He just needed to be taught that if he listened and just played along, Dream could give him the world.)

It took far too long, but eventually it finished, and he could return to the ugly mess of tents and logs he’d made so sure Tommy could never leave. He always started shaking when Dream showed up, trying desperately to hide his fear in his voice, and it was absolutely adorable. Dream savoured it, savoured everything about Tommy as they spent hours talking. Everything, his hysterical laugh, his nervous glances for escapes, the way he flinched whenever Dream grabbed his shoulder, his wrist, the poorly hidden look of pain when he held tighter, just hard enough to irritate the bruises that painted his skin a canvas of black and blue, it was all perfect.

Only he could love Tommy this much, and in time he knew Tommy would learn to appreciate that.

——

The second time he used the book, a tower extended from the ruins of the makeshift prison he’d made for Tommy. DreamXD stated ahead of him.

“”Brother dearest,” he said, “why are you calling on me again so soon?””

“”Bring him back,”” he said, voice painfully numb.

DreamXD shrugged a shoulder, golden hair waving around like in water. “”Who?””

“”Tommy.””

“”I cannot,”” DreamXD said. “”He lives.”” Dream couldn’t help but smile at hearing that.

“”Then bring him back to me.””

DreamXD laughed, a sound like church bells. “”That would be unnecessary. Did I not already grant you the mortal?””

Dream clenched his fist hard enough blood dripped onto scorched earth. “”He left me-“”

“”And you shall find him, no matter what.”” DreamXD smiled under the mask. “”You are bonded to him, and neither death nor distance shall break that. Just look, and you will find him, til the end of time and even past.””

“”Thank you,”” Dream said, genuinely for once.

“”Only the best for my little brother and sister. And I know you would do the same for us, brother dearest.””

——

His planning had come to fruition for once.

They were alone, in the depths of the Earth, just him, Tommy, the fucking hilarious excuse for a “president” Tommy called a friend for some reason, and his axe.

Finally, he could bring his dreams to fruition. He could get rid of any loose threads, and claim what was rightfully his. And once he’d taught Tommy to be grateful, he could get to work on the rest of the server.

It’d be beautiful. Everyone would be his friend, his brother, his sister, something in between. There would be no more wars, just peace. Everyone would be safe, he’d know they’re safe and they’d never rip him to pieces and laugh at his pain. And oh, it’d like be hard work, breaking everyone into obedience but not too much to the point they become boring, but so enjoyable and satisfying. He’d almost be disappointed when it was over.

Tommy- his Tommy, his Tommy, was crying, and it was amusing but he almost wanted to reach out and comfort him and explain it’d all be for the best. He’d do that later, once he’d secured him and any loose ends were gone forever. He couldn’t afford weakness until they were alone, but Tommy made it so tempting.

The ram and Tommy hugged a final goodbye, and the adoration he had towards Tommy, hiding his fear behind a smile, made Dream fucking sick. He should know Tommy was his. They all should know. He’d teach them, when he made the server a perfect family. Even Tubbo, if Tommy begged enough. Dream would do anything to hear Tommy's pathetic, gorgeous begging, breaking through his aggressive walls, and bringing back some random sheep was easily in his brother's power.

See, he could be kind. He wasn’t cruel, he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t even care if he was anymore, fun was so much more important than nonsensical human concepts, but it wasn’t even true. He could be incredibly, selflessly kind, as long as he had a reason. They’d learn, once he fulfilled his dream.

The sound of a nether portal, of betrayal, shatters his dreams and at this point he wonders why he’s surprised.

——

He’d had doubts, during the weeks (months, years? he had no way of knowing) he’d been trapped in the cell, but Tommy being here with him confirmed his design was excellent.

Oh, Tommy was being fucking obnoxious- and Dream knew he was doing it on purpose- but he saw it in the way he never was able to look at the lava properly, the way he always woke up in a cold sweat calling for his daddy like the child he insisted he wasn’t. It was perfect.

(Of course it was, though. It’s not hard to build on something already perfected, and Tommy was the perfect little toy.)

Tommy was so frustratingly different though. He tried not to take it out on him- it wasn’t his fault that everyone else spread lies, planted nonsense in his head about Dream being bad and not trying to do the best for everyone but especially for him- but he struggled sometimes, and it was always so tempting to hurt Tommy anyway, and get lost in the melody of his screams. It wouldn’t teach Tommy anything though, and that’s what was important. He needed to teach Tommy what was best for him.

Tommy had unlearnt all the lessons Dream painstakingly taught him. That wouldn’t be an issue- it was so, so fun to teach- but he knew, painfully deep down in his heart that he could not hold Tommy forever, not yet. The lockdown wasn’t forever, and Dream had no escape route yet. Tommy would just forget everything again, at the hands of his “friends” that couldn’t love him as much as Dream did. They needed to learn far more than Tommy did.

(Except Ranboo of course- oh, the purple eyed boy had the silly naive thoughts in his head everyone seemed to have that friendship was anything but possessing another, but he agreed family came first, listened to Dream, helped him, even with clenched teeth.)

And when one day the frustration got to Dream one day and he was so furious he hit Tommy again and again against the walls of the prison and strangled him until he was cold all he could do was laugh and laugh and laugh.

It was so, so funny, because of course he’d be the one to destroy everything he loved.

——

This time, when DreamXD is called, he looks upon his brother with concern.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, “”are you quite alright?””

Dream laughs, because of course he’s alright! The tears staining his face must be joy, because of course he’s alright. He’s holding Tommy here, with him, and he was quiet, he must be listening. He can’t be dead, he can’t be, then there’d be no point to any of this.

“”Drista has been concerned for you for quite a while, you know,”” DreamXD continued. “”Is this because of your mortal?””

“”He’s been ever so quiet lately,”” Dream said, with a voice hoarse from crying and laughter. “”I’m not sure to be concerned or happy with him.””

“”You’re not well, Dream.”” DreamXD said, with a tone of finality despite clearly being wrong. “”The boy is dead.””

Dream laughs. “”And yet he does not slip from my grasp.””

“”Then, brother, why did you call me?””

The silence pierces through air like a knife. Eventually, through hiccuping sobs, Dream says “”Just, please, bring him back.””

Tommy sputters to life with ghostly eye and pure white streaks and more bruise on him than corpselike skin and Dream thinks he has never been more perfect.

——

Quackity's left, he thinks, because the pain's stopped growing.

He laughs, because he doesn’t know what to fucking do anymore but laugh. He can’t give up the secrets of the book, of course he can’t. Family comes first, after all, and he dreads to think what the bastard would do to his brother. But the pain was awful, never ending in waves through his whole body, and he almost just wants to confess so he can die.

He cradles what’s left of his arm since the bastard cut it off at the elbow, and he sobs. He doesn’t even care to hide it with his mask. It’s not even the pain that hurts the most, even. It’s that Tommy's gone, and by the time Dream escapes- because he’s going to escape, he’s got to- he might be so far from his grasp even their fates being tied might not be enough.

“Of course that’s not true,” a fake voice says in his head, and wavy form approaches. Fuck, the blood loss must be bad today. It always is when he sees things. Usually it’s George or Bad or Sapnap, and it leaves him with a numb feeling in his chest that he’s familiar with, but today it’s Tommy, and that’s worse. It reminds him of what he cannot hold.

“Fuck off,” he mouths at the apparition, voice too tired and hoarse from screaming to speak properly. Not-Tommy laughs, and the sound is so similar to Tommy he almost thinks that his desperate prayers have been answered, Tommy is there again, but he reached his fingers forward and they go through his tired hallucination.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Not-Tommy says, and laughs again. “But I know you mean the best.” Dream shrugs his shoulder at the fake, and then curls up, new waves of pain curling up his arm.

“I don’t know why I was ever friends with that bastard.” Not-Tommy lies, and Dream wants to believe it. “You’re just having fun. He’s cruel.” Tommy would never understand that clear distinction, no matter how much Dream explained it, but the fake said it with such conviction it was almost enough for Dream to fall for it.

“When you get out, I’ll be there, Dream. And then we can all be a big happy family,” Not-Tommy says, the thoughts so obviously Dream's and not Tommy’s but- the idea that Tommy understood, that he saw sense, was so tempting, Dream allowed himself to believe it, just for a second. Just until the pain started anew.

Broken and bloody, Dream drifted into unconsciousness with a smile on his face.

#my writing #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp writing #dsmp writing #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp fanfiction #c!dream #c!tommy #c!dream negativity #tw assault #tw graphic violence #tw death #tw child death #tw murder #tw child murder #tw abuse #tw possessive behaviour #tw obsession #tw mental break #tw hallucination #tw torture #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting

[dynamoe]

Yo I really like your Billy pre-venture art. You considered doing some of Pete's childhood?

Yo. Thanks. (Yo?)

I covered Pete's post-college period as a radio station intern in my Xmas story, but anything earlier doesn't interest me much.

Billy's childhood seems more worth exploring since he lives as a psychological and physical kidult. He can't move on.

Billy lives in his personal past; Pete just lives in a cultural past.

thanks for caring enough to ask a question!

↓ it goes all character analysis wank below the fold

Billy collects not just toys but specifically vintage toys from his youth. His mother is a looming figure in his present as well as his past— she's mentioned multiple times before she appeared as a character. The flashback episode of his "origin story" raises more questions than it answers. He claims to be a "boy genius" past age 30. He's a permanent child.

*Yet Billy plays the "voice of reason" as well as the "horny teen movie virgin" roles (threesomes with vampire prostitutes, elaborate masturbation schemes) as needed in different episodes. The kid needs a bucket of therapy. So, he's interesting to speculate about why he's so messed up.

On the other hand, for comedic purposes, I prefer White stay as a cypher and an unreliable narrator of his own life. Any recollections he gives are going to be 90% bullshit.

^ Li'l Petey?

That said: Pete's parents were Satanists and conceiving him was a Rosemary's Baby-style attempt to incarnate the Antichrist (his birthday is 6/6/66), but he was a total disappointment on that front since he's turned out more annoying than evil.

#venture bros #master billy quizboy #questions #pete white #stupid canon #stupid fan theory #vbros #fan theory #headcanon #headcanons #canon #venture brothers #asks #ask #your question #Q & A #question

[crossdressingdeath]

"Boys will be boys" logic is interesting since WWX himself basically uses that exact excuse in the book when he tells LWJ not to take JC's homophobic rant/assault seriously in the ancestral hall bc that's just how JC is, as if WWX himself wasn't furious when JC targeted LWJ in that scene. A lot of WWX's famed unreliable narration is rationalizing the crazy shit JC does but sometimes people tend to take it at face value.

Yes, exactly! That is such a huge thing. WWX spends so much time telling himself (and through himself the audience) that oh, it can’t be helped when JC mistreats him, JC is just like that, it’s totally fine, he doesn’t mind, and we see how that viewpoint was encouraged and strengthened by the people around him, especially JYL (sorry Shijie but it’s true). Hell, you could argue that this particular aspect of his character was entirely her doing, given YZY just thinks he should be subordinate to JC in all things and JFM mostly ignores JC’s behaviour; it’s just JYL going for the “oh boys will be boys, you’re strong and always smiling, you can take it” angle.

...Actually, let’s go into that a bit more because it very much gets buried under the “best sister” shit; I am prepared to argue that JYL consistently taking JC’s side did serious damage to WWX. Like, she was the only Jiang who consistently showed him affection and support and he convinced himself that it was unconditional! But the “unconditional” aspect was an illusion entirely based on his ability to consistently and convincingly pretend that JC wasn’t hurting him. WWX isn’t stupid, I don’t doubt for a second that he knew JYL would take JC’s side if it came down to it. She always takes JC’s side from day one. Literally; she hears WWX say he’ll take the blame for JC chasing him out of Lotus Pier and getting WWX’s leg broken while all JC did was come out looking for WWX personally (instead of doing the smart and more helpful thing and getting adults to help) because he was scared he’d get in trouble and he got a little scrape because he was running through the woods like an idiot because, again, he was too scared of getting in trouble to GET ACTUAL HELP THAT WASN’T A CHILD and she’s like “Yeah, that sounds reasonable and fair and not like a really, really bad precedent to set with a kid whose safety relies on my family liking him”. ...There’s also an aspect of “Sure, it can’t hurt to let the kid my mother very clearly hates take responsibility for something that he could be punished for by someone with a motive to take everything possible as a wrongdoing on WWX’s part”, but to be fair at this point she doesn’t know YZY will whip WWX for literally anything she can even slightly suggest is any sort of wrongdoing on WWX’s part. And let’s not pretend WWX wasn’t punished for JC getting hurt; come on, it’s YZY, she punishes him for sunbathing.

This is a running thing going forward in their dynamic, too! JC does something horrible, JYL immediately starts in on the “Oh, boys will be boys, A-Cheng might get upset if you call him out on his shit” shtick if WWX shows the slightest trace of dissatisfaction with being treated like garbage, WWX smiles and forgives JC for whatever he did without question, there’s a period of calm, the cycle repeats. JYL very much teaches WWX that he cannot EVER show any unhappiness with JC’s threats and insults. If he ever shows so much as a shred of anger or sadness or generally being upset at the way JC mistreats him JYL takes JC’s side. At most she’ll tell JC that maybe he should back off a little while basically telling WWX to grin and bear it because JC might be slightly upset if anyone ever calls him out on being horrible to literally everyone. And don’t even get me started on the whole “Oh you’re always smiling” bullshit, talk about teaching a mistreated orphan that he has literally no right to look sad about anything ever. Like, let me put it this way: WWX doesn’t even feel he can go to JYL about JC TRYING TO KILL HIM. That’s a lot? It’s a lot? And it never really gets discussed in any way? WWX doesn’t feel like he can tell his supposed sister who supposedly loves him unconditionally that her brother tried to murder him like three times and when the third time comes up JYL takes JC’s side because JC’s arm got broken in the process of the staged fight where JC stabbed WWX in the gut and that’s fine and healthy apparently. Stan WQ, the actual best sister (god I love WQ).

Anyway, now that I’m done enraging the fandom with my tangent about how much JYL sucks as a sister to WWX... Yeah, WWX insists that JC’s attitude can’t be helped because JC’s just like that even when he very clearly doesn’t buy that? He’s obviously pissed when JC goes after LWJ to the point of genuinely going after JC for it... but when they get away from JC he goes into the “Oh, he can’t help it, don’t get mad at him”. And in this particular case part of it is him panicking because JC’s homophobic ranting (and LWJ’s clear anger at it) left him questioning his and LWJ’s feelings and the mutuality thereof, but it also... really does throw every other time he insists JC’s behaviour is fine into question. Like, we know he’s not buying his own line in this scene! He was furious at JC! He’s still furious and upset! But he feels the need to cover for JC. Even after he’s realized that JC’s behaviour wasn’t okay, he still feels like he has to protect him from anyone else getting angry at him. WWX knows JC’s behaviour isn’t okay and that it’s not fair that JC treats him the way he does and I’d argue (especially at this point in the story) that he deserves better than JC’s treatment... but he still insists that JC is just like that and it’s fine.

That throws every single time WWX smiles through JC’s mistreatment into question, I’d say; we know he’ll react this way even when he knows that JC’s behaviour isn’t okay, so who’s to say he ever isn’t aware that JC’s behaviour isn’t okay? In CQL XZ does an excellent job of showing that at least in that continuity he is extremely done with JC’s shit even from when they’re fifteen; the novel is as far as I remember a little less clear, but it’s still pretty obvious that he’s not enjoying the way JC treats him. He knows that the way JC treats him is hurtful and upsetting and sometimes even frightening (think of the times JC threatens him with dogs and he’s clearly scared, which is a whole other thing because either he’s so scared of dogs that even the threat terrifies him or he has zero doubt that JC for sure would set dogs on him, which is a big thing either way and also I’m still not over how CQL JYL laughs when JC threatens WWX with dogs even though WWX is clearly scared and she totally would’ve laughed if that happened in the novel too but showing it so blatantly and then never actually getting into how messed up it is is just unnecessary), but he feels like he has to smile through it and cover for JC, just like when they were nine.

Anyway yeah, for a fandom so obsessed with WWX being an unreliable narrator the MDZS/CQL fandom sure does miss a lot of times where WWX is actually being unreliable, huh.

#mdzs #grapehate #wei wuxian #lotus sister #...got a bit off-track there whoops #anyway the jiangs ALL suck and FUCK jyl for enabling jc's horrible behaviour #anon #asks

[unseelie-robynx]

new part of the Bad End of @vegalocity ‘s Oblivion AU

on AO3 here

WARNINGS: Brainwashing, Mind Control, Psychological Horror, Dehumanization, Objectification, Unreliable Narrator, Brainwashed Narrator,  Bad End

A moment of Clarity

(AKA the one in which Red Son wakes up for a minute, and has a very, extremely, bad time of it)

Red Son blinked to awareness. Where… where was he? His vision was still somewhat blurry, and with a start, he realized he couldn’t move. His eyes darted around frantically, searching for answers. He appeared to be in a small bedroom, cluttered, and plebeian. But something in the peasant-like room seemed, almost familiar—

“Oh.”

The voice cut off his thoughts as his eyes immediately darted over to… Noodle Boy!

His incredulous bewilderment must have shown on his face because the insufferable adorable peasant had the audacity to laugh.

“Oh my gosh, I think that actually worked!”

Red Son wanted to yell at the other boy, to demand answers, but he was still inexplicably frozen, unable to even open his mouth to vocalize his displeasure.

“Right, ok, wasn’t actually sure that would work, so just let me finish setting this up…” The peasant seemed to be messing with some sort of stand on his desk and… was that a phone? Wait, was the Noodle Boy filming this?

Red Son raged, how dare this insignificant nobody do this to him! He managed to pry his lips apart into a snarl, but still not a sound came out.

 He wasn’t scared, he was better than that, he could fix this, it was fine

“Perfect!”

And what was almost worse, his crush the peasant had the gall to ignore him as well!

“Now then,” the noodle boy came back over and plopped down on what Red Son realized must be his bed. Which was when he realized he was kneeling on the floor, and as such was now positioned to look up at the other boy, which only spiked his rage higher. “Why don’t we begin with some basic information, humm? What are you?”

That was a ridiculous question. He was Red Son. He was the heir to the demon bull family, proud prince, and brilliant inventor. He desperately wanted to shout that into the insufferable peasant’s face!

But that’s not what happened.

Instead, Red Son’s lips moved against his will.

“I am a mindless plaything, an object to be owned.” Red Son heard his own voice say.

His brain stuttered to a stop because… what? Why had he? What had he?

But he didn’t have long to think because the Noodle Boy was speaking again.

“That’s right Red, Good Boy.”

Red Son couldn’t stop the sharp inhalation at the warmth that rushed through him at the other's praise. It didn’t make sense! It was degrading! This whole thing was completely wrong! He shouldn’t feel—

“Now, who do you belong to?”

And again, words were spilling unbidden from his traitorous lips. “I belong to Xiaotian. Xiaotian is my maker and owner.”

That sparked Red Son back into his rage. He didn’t know what twisted magic was causing this humiliation, but once he was free, he was going to inflict the worst pain the peasant could possibly imag—

“Right again Red, you’re being such a Good Boy for me.”

This time there was a hand in his hair, petting him, like, like some mangy mutt! He was a demon prince! He would not be reduced to… to… to leaning into the touch. To reveling in the strange warmth, that appeared again at the other’s words, all but exploding at the physical contact.

The hand didn’t leave his hair as the other boy spoke again. “Now then, how do you feel about me?”

That question did not match the strain of the others that had been asked, it also, unfortunately, did not make any more sense than they did either. And yet once again Red Son’s body answer for him.

“I am in love with Xiaotian.”

Wait what? NO! He had a crush sure, and he would admit that the Noodle boy was both strong (a highly desirable trait) and attractive, but love wasn’t—

“I love Xiaotian with the entirety of my being.”

No, no! This wasn’t right! None of this was right! He needed to break free from whatever this was. He needed to—

His head was being yanked up, and there were lips on his. Warm, slightly chapped, and tasting like wind and spices. Needles to say, his brain had fully short-circuited by the time Xiaotian broke off the kiss.

“You are so perfect for me, aren’t you Baby?”

A keening whine escaped Red Son’s mouth, and he didn’t even have to willpower to stop it as the demeaning, derogatory, wrong praise swept through him.

“Oh.” And then the hand holding his chin up was shifting, cradling his face as the thumb came to gently rest under his eye. “They have little flecks of gold in them!” The noodle boy leaned it, uncomfortably close, and peered intently into his eyes, examining them. “I had forgotten about that. They almost sparkle, don’t they.”

Red Son’s body was absolutely melting into the affectionate contact, even as his mind whirled, trying to understand what was going on. Unfortunately, it felt like there was a heavy fog over his thoughts, one that seemed to press down even heavier when the noodle bo, the noodle, the noo, Xiaotian spoke, and he was still actively trying to fight through it.

Instead, he found himself examining the other boy back. It was hard not to, he reasoned, when they were so intimately uncomfortable close. Specifically, he ended up examining the other’s eyes, perhaps prompted by the intense study of his own.

They were just as dark and rich as he remembered. An almost chocolatey color, and yet… something seemed off. There was… almost a haze over what he remembered being bright and aware. Not much, not obvious, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it if they weren’t so close, but… present.

Which, coupled with the odd praise comments from earlier… Well. This whole situation was completely warped, and Red Son was half-convinced he was having an extremely odd dream.

“I think…” Xiaotian was speaking again, brows furrowing, “I think I missed that. The light. We might need to play this game more often.”

“g, gA. Me?” of course. Red Son finally gets his voice to work, somewhat it was horribly broken and forced, and it’s a nonsensical question instead of, oh he didn’t know, a demand for answers? A threat? An expression of his rage and indignity at the whole situation!

But no. And apparently, the Noodl, noo, Xiaotian, thought his pathetic display was… cute or some other such nonsense because he was cooing at him!

“That’s right Red! It’s our new game, Clarity.” And all of a sudden the fog that had been pushing down on Red Son’s mind cleared away again. It was such an intense sensation that he actually let out a small gasp and the sudden lack of pressure on his mind.

Which was evidently another thing that the Noodle Boy appreciated, because it earned Red Son a peck on the cheek.

“It is absolutely not fair for you to be this adorable, you know that Red?”

If Red Son’s cheeks were flushed, it was with rage and that was it.

 Not embarrassment, or affection, absolutely not.

“Especially done up like this.” And then the hand was back in his hair, and Red Son could almost feel the fog falling back down in time with the soft strokes.

He tired to pull away, to not let himself sink into the warm tough, and warmer fog, but what minor control he’d managed to wrest over his vocal cords evidently didn’t extend to his body, because he was still unable to move even a millimeter away.

Except evidently his expressions still functioned just fine, because the Noodle Bo, the Noodle, Nood, Xiaotian chose to comment on his… lack of appreciation.

Not distress, he was fine, he could deal with this.

“None of that now Red, you’re going to mess up your makeup!”

His what!

And that shocked confusion was also apparently on his face because, with a laugh, the Noodle, Nood, Xiaotian’s hands were moving from his head to under his arms and a tug had his rising gracefully to his feet.

Which he felt was entirely unfair, seeing as he could barely feel his feet.

Now that he thought about it, his entire body seemed almost numb and somewhat detached. Like the fog in his head had sunk into his muscles and cut them off.

A drug of some sort?

It had to be. He couldn’t think of anything else that would have left him in this state, but then he didn’t know of any toxin that would one, work on his fire demon metabolism, and two, would produce these specific effects.

Red Son was so caught up in trying to deduce what had put him in this state, that he almost missed the Nood , Xiaotian swinging open the bathroom door (and how did he know for a fact that was a bathroom?) to reveal the full-length mirror on the inside.

What he did not miss, however, was making eye contact with… was that him? In the mirror?

If he could have moved, he would have reached out to the glass, waved, done something, anything to confirm that the stranger looking back at him was some sort of trick.

The red silk of the Hanfu seemed to cling to his form, for all the volume the fabric had. The black sleeves, with their intricate stitching of golden flames, completely drowned his hands within the fabric and how had he not noticed any of this!

Red Son’s breathing escalated as he took in the rest of the scene. The painted lips, the red winging his wind, frantic eyes, his hair, loose like he never wore it, and long. In the mirror it brushed his calves, and yet he hadn’t registered the extra weight at all, or the silk, or any of this when he’d been kneeling earlier and—

“Shhhh, shhhh,” Warm arms were encircling him. Grounding him. “Shhh, it’s ok. Take a deep breath for me Red, that’s it.”

Red Son found himself obeying listening, taking in a deep shuddering breath. It was then he realized that he’d been hyperventilating.

“Shhh, that’s it, Good Boy, keep taking those nice deep breaths for me, shhh.” And Xiaotian’s hand was back in his long, too long how did it get so long hair and Red Son can’t even muster up the energy to be angry as the gentle, soothing, familiar motion helps to ground him as he attempts to regulate his frantic emotions.

They stayed like that for an amount of time that Red Son was having trouble calculating, until his breathing had evened out into the slow, methodic rhythm it had held previously. It was then that Xiaotian sighed, draping his arms over Red Son’s shoulders and settling his weight onto him.

Red Son refused to flush at the feeling of the warm, solid chest pressed so firmly into his back, nor at how the other boy's head came to rest on his shoulder, making eye contact through the mirror that Red Son was unable to turn away from.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” Xiaotian mused, apparently to himself (and it chafed to be so thoroughly ignored), “I’m not even sure where the idea came from really, and I’d been having fun with you beforehand…. Maybe all the stuff with the Monkey King earlier?”

A thoughtful hum as Xiaotian’s arms pulled Red Son back tighter against him. “That’s probably it. All of that’s just got me… confused a little bit. And thinking about how things were before you knew what you were.”

Which slotted right in, not at the top, but close, to the list of strange and confusing comments that Red Son had been forced to hear since he woke up in this mess. He could only assume it was a reference to the degrading strange questions from earlier. But the fog had been steadily pressing down again, and he found it hard to recall what he had found so odd about the questions. Or maybe it was something to do with the answers?

There was a sigh, and Red Son was pulled out of his hazy thoughts to watch the fetching blush race over his face as Xiaotian nuzzled into his neck. “But I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. This was obviously a bad idea, look how upset you’ve gotten over such simple things. I mean, normally, who cares?”

Not Me, Red Son’s mind supplied at the same time as Xiaotian’s “Not you!” came out. It was an oddly recited bright moment, but Xiaotian immediately sobered again.

“But here you are almost having a panic attack over how pretty you look. That’s not… I wanted to see your reactions. Not… not this. Maybe we shouldn’t play Clarity again.”

Red Son wanted to scream in protest as the fog once again pulled away from his mind. He still didn’t understand what was happening, still couldn’t force himself to move, but the one thing he did know, was that this… warped game or whatever it was, was the only thing standing between him and the heavy oppressive fog that he was scared of, wanted to get away from didn’t seem to be able to fight. If the Noodle Boy took that away he didn’t know what –

A finger was being pressed to his forehead, “I think we’re done now pet. Oblivion”

Red Son blinks bewildered at the statement and—

__________________________________________________

Red Son blinks open its eyes. Its owner Xiaotian is holding it close, and it instinctively nuzzles back into the embrace. They’re standing in front of the mirror, and it can’t help but notice how lovely it looks. It hopes Xiaotian is pleased with the ensemble it picked out. It had been told to make itself look pretty for its owner, and it would like to think it did a pretty good job of that.

But something’s wrong and its owner seems upset.

“Xiaotian?” It speaks softly, “Has your doll done something you dislike?”

“Humm?” Its owner doesn’t move from where his face is pressed into its neck. “No Pet, you haven’t done anything wrong. You’re my perfect little mindless plaything.”

Red Son couldn’t stop the note of distress that escaped its perfectly painted lips. If it hadn’t caused this, then something else had upset its owner, and it was its duty as Xiaotian’s possession to do what it could to help.

“Xiaotian, please let your pet do what it can to please you. It loves you with its whole being and cannot stand to see its owner upset.” It pleaded.

“It’s fine Red.” Xiaotian stepped away from Red Son, and it had to bite back a whine at the loss of contact. “I just have a… headache. That’s all.”

Oh.

     Oh.  

Red Son knew how to help them. It knew how to help its owner when this happened. It was one of its primary functions after all.

It quickly turned and guided Xiaotian to rest on his bed and fought the instinct to sink to its place on its knees.

It had a duty to perform.

It swiftly moved to retrieve Xiaotian’s headphones and start the special track with its owner’s name on it.

As it returned it saw that its owner had sat back up and was about to speak when Red Son slid the headphones onto his head. Immediately the beautiful music of Oblivion washed over its owner, and Red Son guided Xiaotian to lay back down so that it could kneel in its spot as it slowly whispered into its owner’s ear.

It still didn’t actually know what it was saying, but it knew that it was helping its owner Xiaotian, whom it loved with its whole being, and that was enough for it to know that it was doing what it had been created for.

After all, it was an object, objects were created, not made, and Xiaotian was his maker and owner. If it was serving its owner, it was fulfilling the purpose of its creation.

#lmk #Lego Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid #oblivion series #Oblivion AU #Brainwashing #mind control #bad end #psychological horror #dehumanization #objectification #lmk red son #MK

[octopus-reactivated]

Title me Miss

You remember Decima? If not, here she is.

Tw/cw: Pet whump. legal slavery, stress position, maybe? low self-esteem, dehumanisation, unreliable narrator, derogatory language

__________

The cage was small, much smaller than cages usually used in stores. He had to bend while kneeling. His back hurt and he wanted to lay down, curl up on cold floor, but then he wouldn't be able to get at kneeling position fast, and if someone would look at him, and see he isn't even kneeling, then he won't be bought and taken to new home and new Master and it’s not like his chances were high to begin with.

He had to stay in this uncomfortable position. Of course stupid Pet like him deserved anything better, anyway.

__________

That's bad - thought Paparazzi realising the celebrity saw her taking a photo of him. Except that she wasn't a paparazzi, and he wasn't a celebrity.

Caretaker quickly turned around trying to walk away without getting into a confrontation. It was most likely that she would be able to get away, and even if man would demand to delete photos, she already switched memory cards, so the evidence was safe.

She took a glance into a reflective surface. Yep. Mr. Politician was following her, and even pointed at her. Rude. She hid behind the nearest corner, taking her jacket off. Then she hopped into the closest shop and got wig off - good thing she actually decided to start using them. She walked into the furthest part of the shop, hiding clothing, wig and camera in a bag and done! Caretaker can be a different person now! It took her 15 seconds no more. Still far away from a perfect time of 7 seconds, but most likely 15 seconds would be enough.

Caretaker calmed herself down, and crunched behind a cage

And then she saw where she was. A “Pet” shop. She realised There was a human in a cage, and he looked at her with hopeful eyes. Oh no. She suddenly felt guilty. She never was brave enough to go after a big company. Did this combination of events happen to show her what happens to people because she refuses to take action... Even if this action is just spying on corrupted politicians?

She will have to pull herself together and inform Justin she's ready to hunt down big fish.

Caretaker stayed a little longer, until she decided it was safe to go. She stood up and at that moment a man in a cage whimpered. She looked at the boy. He had teary eyes. Was it because she didn't want to buy him? Why would anyone be sad for not getting bought? Maybe Pets were punished when someone decided to leave them? It made no sense, but common sense probably got beaten out of them. Whatever it was, the boy was authentically sad.

"I'm just... looking at the description, don't worry" she sent him a reassuring smile. What the what was she doing? She's not here to buy anything? Maybe she would be able to steal him? No, she's a simple photographer playing spy, not a thief. And THAT would be illegal, and she can't have a criminal record. Caretaker looked at papers glued to the board over the cage. Age, physical attributes, placing of scars, training facility, 'one previous owner' note, price - cheaper than she would expect for a human being- what he was trained to, blablabla...

"Interested in-" without thinking, she turned around and punched the owner of a voice in the stomach. He bent in half. Only then she realised it was one of the employees.

"I'm so sorry i didn't mean to hurt you, you terrified me" she apologised quickly, and she meant it. She really was sorry for punching an innocent person. Oh wait, this guy works at Pet store. Nevermind, she's not sorry. Unless that would make a fuss and affect her reputation. Then maybe a little.

Employee straighten up

"You're stronger than you look like" He said, quite impressed.

"Thank you. I didn't meant to use that strength on you"

"No problem, it was my fault anyway. I tend to walk quiet" He said, but to be honest it sounded a little forced. Later on he will trash talk about her to his friends for sure. "Anyway i was meant to ask if you're interested in this Pet"

"Well, I am considering... "

"We also have many others here, or you can visit our website and..."

"No thank you... I think… I think I will talk to my friend, he's like 78% of my impulse control. I will be back in a few minutes."

"Of course if you want to discuss it with someone..." Employee looked disappointed, but he also didn't want to come out as pushy, so he didn't stop her.

When she was walking away Pet sniffed, and an employee kicked cage saying something angrily. He switched from servile to cruel in seconds. Disgusting, absolutely disgusting. She will stop this. But first she had to make a call.

__________

Pet was waiting, hoping for the impossible, and then- then someone walked in and looked at him! Mistress with exotic blue hair! She was looking at him! Maybe she will pet him and decide he looks adorable and take him? He tried so hard to look cute!

Of course it wasn't enough. Mistress stood up. Why would she want a disgusting, horrible Pet like him? He whimpered and shut up immediately. He didn't get permission to make a sound. Bad, untrained Pet.

"I'm just looking at the description, don't worry," Lady said. Of course, you stupid mutt. Humans won't just decide by looking at face, they would want to know... all those important stuff written in his document, that he was to stupid to understeand.

One of the Masters came and talked to Lady... but she just punched him! And the Master was in pain, but still didn't get mad... Did it mean that Lady was so cruel she wanted to hurt even other humans and powerful enough to get away with this? Pet trembled.

Master tried to convince her to purchase one of Pets, him or some other, that was less useless, bu the Lady apparently didn't liked anything, so she used banal excuse even dumb Pet was able to look through and left.

He tried not to cry.

Master kicked his cage.

"Can't you even try to be less hopeless?" he said angry

__________

"Justin, my beloved, my light, my braincell and my source of income i need your advice"

Sigh.

"What is this time?"

"So I was doing as you said, and you were right, they really met and there was a third man with them, and I got photos, but he saw me and..."

"Did you lose evidence?"

"Nah, don't worry it's safe like a baby in your mother's arms. The thing is I had to flee and I went into the first open store and there was Pet and he looked so sad, and I have to take him now, but..."

"I see, do you want me to gently sway you from making decisions you already know it's bad, or do you look for my genuine opinion about your capability of taking care of a pet with your job?"

"No no no no no. You misunderstood me. It was A Pet. And I want to take him, because I'm afraid they will beat him to death if i don't but I also don't want to give them my money. I don't want to contribute to the system, but stealing is bad and I don't know what to do anymore."

"Okay. Okay, wait a moment i need to think about it for second"

"Okay"

"Alright, I have an idea: big companies like that always have some dirt. So do like this: go to this store and buy him casually, but look for old ventilation, unsafely placed things or anything. Note that and take photos if you can, and we will later snitch on them for WHS violation or something"

"Okay. Thank you i knew i could count on you"

__________

Pet was kneeling in the cage. He could have a new home by now if only he wouldn't be so disgusting. The last customer was really scary, and cruel and even she didn't want such an awful Pet. He tried not to cry. Crying wasn't cute and he had to look cute even if it was pointless.

Then he heard quick angry footsteps. The blue-haired lady was back. What did it mean?

"I'M TAKING HIM!" She shouted. She had fire in her eyes. It took all of Pet's strength not to move away to the back of the cage.

She will buy him, and she was angry, maybe because the pet was scared of her, or maybe her Friend failed to control her impulse, or maybe it was something different, but the Pet will pay for that.

He was scared, but he will take all the pain if she would want him, please he wants to be wanted, even if it doesn't matter what he wants, take him away, he will be good...

Master rushed and took Lady to the back, where the documents were signed. Pet glued eyes to the doors. She still can change her mind when she will look deeper and realise how bad and ill-trained animal he is.

Or maybe she would like to have a broken animal to train up to herself? Was it about it?

__________

"Here are all his files. We have to make sure you had read them, especially the last page"

"Sure, give me some time"

"Also if you have any questions, i'm here to help"

"I don't have any..." she said, but then the idea hit her "actually, do you have any more detailed record of his training?"

"We do have records for all our pets, but we can show them only to the owner. We can email them right after purchase. They're quite large"

"Works for me" She said. Maybe the records will say more about his conditioning, and help with recovery. Anyway it won't do harm if she will have them.

Now onto reading stuff she will sign. Make sure the company won’t hide anything in small print.

It took longer than she would like to admit and hopefully she understood all the words just right… There was one page left.

There was something about being "ready to handle" and "responsiblebleble..." and

oh

Employee must have seen that she got to that part.

That part... changed the light she looked at the boy.

And she hesitated for a moment.

“May… may i know the circumstances of an incident?” she asked

__________

Master- no, the former Master now opened a cage and threw him on the ground. Pet felt his shoulder hit the hard floor and he holded cry in .

"Looks like you got purchased after all. Unbelievable. Ayway, how long do you think it will take for you to mess up and get returned?" former Master said. Pet was stupid, yes, and he had trouble learning rules but he knew that he can't break them now, and he wasn't allowed to speak

"Answer me you dumb Pet"

now that was an order

"A- a month maybe?"

"Ha! you aim high. I doubt you will be able to last two weeks"

Pet didn't want to go back at all, but if the former Master says he won't be able to enjoy new home for longer than two weeks then it was true. He had to bear Mutt for so long!

He took off one collar and put on another. It was so soft, softer than a pet ever had. Finally he grabbed him by the shoulder he felt on and took to the new owner.

"See you soon," former Master whispered to Pet.

And there she was. New owner. The scary Lady. Pet trembled.She didn’t clipped a leash or grab him by hair, instead she put her arm around him. Didn't she want him to have even this piece of freedom? Or was she afraid he would try to run away? He won't, he will be good and Pet hoped he would be allowed to speak to tell he will be good. But he wasn't allowed so he just quietly walked by her side. He couldn't crawl with her holding him, will he be punished for walking on legs like a human?

They walked outside. The sun was so nice, and the air was fresh. But he knew it was not to enjoy, he wasn't allowed to enjoy those things.

"We will have to wait here for a while. My friend - the one I mentioned before - will give us a ride. Anyway, what's your name?"

Was he tested already? He knew how to follow rules, he could follow them...

Owner looked at him in scary silence

"Oh. I forgot. You can speak. I wouldn't ask if i didn't expected any answer"

Oh no. Oh no no, they didn't even get home, and he disappointed Owner already.

"I don't have any name, Mast- Mistress"

“Hmm well then how did the.. shop employees call you then?”

“Disgusting, Mutt, Dirty…”

"That won’t work. We have to give you a real name. And you can call me by mine. I'm Decima. 'Mistress' sounds like some annoying character from a historical drama. But if you feel uncomfortable without honorifics then you can title me 'Miss'. But I prefer to be referred to by name, okay?"

"Yes, Miss Decima"

#title me miss #Decima #Juli #Justin #my babies