#this thing is like 6k words long and i still feel like there are major things i'm missing lmaooo

[nocturnesmoon]

Safety Nets

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x GN!Reader Wordcount: 6k Tags: Polyamory, established relationship, Hurt/comfort, a LOT of comfort, the guys take care of you, that's the fic CW/TW: Military inaccuracies? canon typical violence, insecurities, heavy self doubt and self blame, minor character death, A/N: This is probably inaccurate mission and military wise but idc i wanted to write something like this for so long- though i am open to constructive criticism if you got some notes. (Read on Ao3)

-You come back from a mission that shook you to your core, the boys help you back on your feet as they always do-

The wind raged like a storm in your ears, despite the heavy earmuffs which sat too tight on your head, you could hear it clearly. When you closed your eyes, you could imagine it being a hurricane, a wind so strong it would scoop you up and carry you to who knows where. One that would tear you apart and leave no remnants of who you were.

The thought seemed nice, to be taken away and to never return. To be freed from not having to face your own failures in the disappointed stares, that awaited down on the rapidly approaching platform. Your body rocked with every little swerve of the helicopter, no longer having the strength to go against the motion.

"Lieutenant?" Your head snapped up to the soldier in front of you. You ignored the crack in your neck and the ache that pooled into your muscles. He'd been calling on you a few times now, his concerned eyes searching your face for an answer. "We're about to land sir," the soldier let you know, you couldn't muster up a verbal response, only a nod to acknowledge you'd heard.

Ever since they had picked you up on the site, they had that look of pity. It made you squirm, feeling all too self-aware of the way your clothes were caked in mud and blood. Your bones hurt, and your joints felt like snapping in half. You had spent the majority of the mission running, believing that you wouldn't make it out. You had fled, and you had left them behind.

The size of the heli was too big for just you, the soldier, and the pilot in the front. The space felt like caging you in, reminding you of your failure, of who you had lost. Your eyes threatened to shut, the exhaustion whispering in your ear that it would all feel a little better if you let yourself drift away into sleep.

Except every time your eyes slipped closed it wasn't darkness you saw, it was their screams, their blood, and their gore. The cracks you heard when one of the bullets pierced someone's skull echoed in your ears, as if you were still down there on the battlefield.

You were pulled back into your own head, your mind running laps to go through the mission once more. Every single second accounted for so you could dissect your failure. How each one of them had fallen, one by one they dropped like they were nothing. How you had ran with what was left of your team, until one got caught in a bear trap and pulled under falling debris, and the other was shot in the stomach.

You had hoped your head would fill with fog, that it would help you forget and suppress the last few moments of that soldier’s life. His name had been Jacob, his callsign Wisp, he had been difficult to deal with but his progress under your guidance had been noticeable. You hated how it was only now you could remember every little thing about him. Before you didn't care, you did your job in training him, guiding him, but you never made an effort to know him. You wished your brain would stop remembering every little thing now, making you feel all the more guilty.

You wished your brain would do that thing it's supposed to do, block out the traumatic memories so you didn't have to deal with them. Yet they were there still so fresh in your mind, like an open wound, his last words repeated over and over in your mind. You'd think someone's last words would be scared, or sentimental or a sweet last wish. Not his, no he decided his last wish was to let you know just how much you had failed them all.

Over and over again you replayed that memory, how his blood had mixed with the dirt and gravel under you both. You remember how his hand had clutched onto your arm, digging his nails through your sleeve and into your skin. He had pulled you down with him in his final moments, uttered those words into your ear with so much disdain the tone would have rocked your core on its own.

"This is your fault, you led us here."

There was more to his words, you were sure there was but maybe your brain was doing part of its job now. You could only cling to every part of the memory you could before it slipped away into the fog. It was only when someone gently nudged you that you snapped out of your own mind once more. "Sir?" your body went rigid at the touch and the voice, and you fought the distinct urge to disarm the person that was in front of you.

It was the same soldier that had been with you ever since they found you. He had been careful around you ever since he saw the casualties, walking on eggshells around you as if you were a loose cannon, maybe you were. "Sir?" he repeated, being a little more patient now that he had your attention, "We're here."

You felt your stomach drop, nodding slowly and glancing towards the opening doors, the platform outside. You could already glimpse at the two people that were waiting for you, they had probably been on edge for days. It only made you more guilty how you must have worried them, ever since your call for immediate evac. You weren't even sure you could reassure them once you got down there, you weren't sure you wouldn't just collapse to your knees the moment you were within their vicinity.

"Do you need help Lieutenant?" the soldier in front of you hadn't moved, it surprised you slightly, having been sure he would be just as eager to get off and way from your stench of death. For a moment you want to say yes, tell them to get someone to carry you, because your knees would give out the moment you went to stand, but how would that look for you. A new promising Lieutenant, the first op you led after you got your new rank and it turned out like this.

You didn't dare look up at the soldier, too afraid that your own eyes would give you away. You considered for a moment, to tell the soldier to go get the only two people who would know what to do. The only two people you would trust enough to become vulnerable with. "No..." your voice barely comes through, but he seems to register it, his legs moving quickly to get down on the platform. It was time to face them.

It had been a long few days ever since you said goodbye to the two of them. 72 hours since you had left on the plane with the promise of being back sometime the next day. 24 since Johnny had started complaining about your absence. 6 since Simon had been alerted of the fact you had called for immediate evac, that the supposedly simple mission had gone wrong in every way possible.

He hadn't relayed all the grueling details to Johnny, just that the op had gone wrong and that you might come back a little rattled. Simon wasn't entirely sure what had gone wrong either, he just knew there was casualties, and the team wasn't coming back in one piece. The scot next to him was restless, practically jumping in place from anxiety, watching intently as the heli descended and the doors opened.

Simon kept one step in front of him, knowing the man all too well, and even though his eagerness is shared within Simon's own veins, he knows that you might not be in a state that could positively receive that. He knew the both of you inside and out, the years he had spent with both you and  Johnny allowed him to know you in ways he didn't think possible.

He was quick to find out exactly what made you both tick, what set you off, what made you happy and what would comfort you. He didn't like the uncertainty; it was a rocky start when he was still mapping out your emotions. By now you all knew each other well, like three puzzle pieces that fit together, you had found each other and filled out the holes in each other’s lives. Certainty was assured when he was with either of you because you both knew he needed it.

This was new, this was an uncertainty he didn't like. He had no idea what you would be like when you came down to the platform, down into their arms once again. Not to mention the fact you and nobody else had come out yet only churned that unsettling anxiety in his stomach further.

"L.T?" the sound of Johnny's accent filled his ears, his shoulders managing to relax just a little. He wasn't alone in this, he reminded himself, Johnny would be here to figure out how to help you as well. Johnny's pinky curled around Simon's, his urge to pull them both away from the public area would have overpowered if it wasn't for the fact, they were waiting for you.

The pilot had gotten out almost as soon as they landed, but you were still nowhere. He could just peak inside, trying to look for you or anyone else he would recognize. He only caught a glimpse of your form, hidden behind another soldier who was speaking to you. "What's taking 'em so long," Simon mumbled quietly, his mask obscuring his already quiet speech.

Johnny let out a heavy sigh, the hold his pinky finger had was surprisingly strong. They shared the anxiousness, the uncomfortable knowledge that you weren't okay. "Ah dinnae ken" he answered, trying to angle himself so he could get a better look at you. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot he could see at the distance.

They waited, as patiently as they could, the inconspicuous grip they had on each other also served to hold themselves back. Their resolve was wearing thin, and they both knew it, that soldier was talking to you about something, something they didn't know about, and they didn't like it. Simon almost completely lost it when he saw the soldier emerge without you, but his attention was quickly turned when you appeared not long after.

Your walk was slow, in no hurry to get back to them, it should've been the first sign. You looked around as if you were confused, as if you hadn't walked down this path a hundred times before. Johnny wasted no time bolting forward, closing in on you with the clear goal that you were his target. It startled you and Simon almost wanted to berate Johnny in that moment for being so quick with his movements.

Though what Simon saw almost made him want to have a little more time to prepare. The look in your eye rattled something foreign in his bones. It was something familiar, something he had seen in himself once upon a time. Something terrifying he'd never have wished upon you, how it felt when his bare soul had been chipped away at. He looked behind you, expecting some other members of your team to perhaps clue them in on the horror that had occurred.

The hit felt even harder when he realized, you were the only one.

By the time they had gotten you inside and settled in the tub you were a little more present. Your awareness a little higher from when they were on the platform. You had barely spoken a word to them, so vary of threats on every corner that you didn't even let your guard down for them as you usually did.

Only when they had managed to drag you inside, convinced you that your report could wait for later, and gotten you safely inside the space of your own quarters, did you settle. Johnny had carefully helped you out of your clothes, taking the task of cleaning you up and settling you into the safe atmosphere that was them.

He had whispered soft praise in your ears as he removed layer after layer, meanwhile suppressing the want to berate you for each little wound he found on your body. He knew you didn't need the extra scolding, the pure shock from the mission would be enough for you. However, he still felt that sting of hurt in his heart, knowing that neither he nor Simon was there to look after you, to take care of you.

He was well aware that you were capable on your own, you wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't good at what you did. If your rank wasn't enough to go from, then your other various accomplishments on your resume was. But when he saw you like this, with the silent knowledge that you could've been wiped out along with the rest, it put a dark cloud over his mind.

He helped you slowly lower yourself into the bath Simon had previously prepared. You winced in pain when the warm water touched your wounds. None of them were severe enough to cause major worry, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt just as much. Your movements were sloggy, relying on Johnny to not lose yourself completely.

"There ye are," Johnny mumbled quietly, forcing a soft smile on his lips in hopes you soothing you. You let out a shuddering sigh, doing your best to relax into the warm water. You pulled your legs close to your chest, resting your tin atop your bruised knees. "Oh leannan," he gently presses his lips to your temple, cradling your head in an attempt for comfort.

It feels like you're not fully present, watching the world from a third person view that doesn’t exist. You have half of your comfort with you, his hands grabbing the washcloth and slowly moving it over your skin. You look around the small bathroom, trying to locate the other half of your comfort, the missing equation.

"Si..." You're taken aback on your own voice, the croak and soreness of it all leaving you wondering whether you had yelled or screamed more than you thought. You tried to think back on it, settling your mind into the mission again but it made a headache form.

Johnny's motion came to a slow stop, his eyes catching your pleading ones. He knew what you wanted, but he wasn't the one that could give it to you. "He's comin' soon," he does his best at keeping your calm, "S'ok jus' relax." His free hand finds your cheek, making you focus your vision on him.

You lean into it, your body trembling slightly beneath his touch. It was warm and safe, two things you hadn't felt ever since you left. He moved the washcloth over your face, rubbing at the dirt that had infested itself on your skin. His eyes never left your face, his attention and devotion completely yours. His eyes fell on your trembling lips, before quickly flickering upwards to see the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

"S'ok love, yer okay" He lets the washcloth rest on the edge of the tub so he could take your face in both hands. His forehead leans against yours, bringing you close and gently coaxing you into more contact. "Just breathe with me aye, he'll be back in no time" your eyes fluttered closed, listening to his instructions, glad that you were able to let go of the part of your brain that needed to make decisions.

Fortunately, he was right, as he often is.

Heavy footsteps could be heard and then the creak of the door, it made you snap your eyes open, their searching beginning once more. They landed on the tall brute, Simon's eyes fixated on you since the moment he made his way into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and made his way towards the tub, planting himself on the toilet seat right next to it.

He was still wearing his mask, tired eyes searching your body and gliding over the wounds in your traumatized state. He lets out a deep sigh, reaching his hand up to his mask and slowly sliding it off. You had seen his face so many times, by now it shouldn't affect you anymore, yet still you can't help that feeling you get when you see him shed the mask in front of you and Johnny. The trust he has in the two of you makes your heart flutter.

The look he's giving you almost makes you feel ashamed, even though you know that he's just concerned. He's always been, that's why he's so harsh on you, on Johnny, even on occasion Garrick. You're pretty sure the only reason he isn't like that on Price as well is because of his higher rank and better experience. He's trained you hard so you could overcome anything, but no amount of training could prepare you for this kind of thing.

Johnny leans back, allowing Simon more space to move closer. You move before he does, leaning your body slightly to the side. The sound of splashing water went deaf on your ears, even as Johnny yelped from some of the water going overboard. Your chin ended up nestled atop Simon's thigh, his eyes never leaving you as you moved. His hand coming down to rest on the back of your head.

"How we doin' pet?" his voice of gravel is like a blanket for your soul, the years of smoking giving him a voice that makes you shiver. In truth you don't feel like speaking, you don't feel like answering at all. You know you have to; you can't hide forever but you still hope they won't inquire about the mission just yet.

You let out a huff, almost hoping that the answer would suffice for Simon, but he keeps looking at you with those expectant eyes. "I don't know," you whisper quietly, letting your eyes fall, your body going slack against the side of the tub.

Simon nods in response, a hum of understanding going out to you. "S'fine, you don't have to know right now," he tells you, giving you the peace of mind to just have a non-conditional existence between them.

Johnny picks up the washcloth again, guiding your arms in his direction so he could continue his work of getting you clean. They're both quick and efficient with cleaning you up, Simon's rough voice filling the room as he updates you on things that's happened since you were gone. It's not much, mostly trivial things you don't care about and will likely forget, but it keeps your calm, giving you something else to focus on.

"Ye should've seen Cap he was livid," Johnny's laughs and you muster a smile, hearing about his latest misadventures, and the dumb thing's he'd rode Gaz into. His hands run over your scalp, working in the shampoo and grimacing when he takes out a small clump of dirt. "Aye darling, how the hell did ye get so caked in mud anyway," he sighs, parting your strands to get to the nape of your neck.

You bend your head down to allow him to work through your hair without straining his arms. "I..." you do your best to think back, but the number of times you fell down and scraped against things were a blur. "I think i tripped a lot...it was a muddy area," You held back a pleasured groan, as Johnny worked his fingers over your scalp, small goosebumps going down your back and arms.

"I don't really remember," you admit and let out an exasperated sigh. Johnny finishes up your hair, going for a little longer than necessary in hopes of keeping your enjoyment going awhile longer. When he pulls back to reach for the shower head, he boops your nose, leaving some soap on your face. His mischievous grin is infectious, and it manages to tug the corners of your lips upwards. The way his eyes light up when he sees your half smile makes your heart hurt, you've worried them so much, you're still worrying them.

As soon as they got you out of the water you were clinging to them like a leech. Refusing to let go of the precious contact you've already established with them. They move you around between them, molding you to them as they do the teamwork of getting you dry. Simon peppers soft kisses to your lips and cheeks while Johnny moves the towel over your back.

Even after they're done getting you as dry as they can, they keep you there. Sandwiched between them they hold you tight, and in tune each other. Johnny's head nestled in the crook of your neck and Simon's chin resting on top of your head. It's a stance that squeezes you tight, your own head getting light from the amount of love they try to squeeze into your bones.

It makes your heart burn, and your eyes sting with tears. Your breathing coming out in small gasps, as you end up choking back on a sob. Every single little thing coming crashing down on you now that you know you're safe in their arms. They've always got you, ready to catch you in case you fall. That hasn't changed, and being so subtly reminded by them brings it all out.

"Breathe," you aren't sure who says it, the disorienting feeling not alleviating even as they accommodate you. "Good Good," you recognize Simon's praising voice when you manage to take a few deep breaths. The tears never manage to fall but you don't doubt that they both know just by looking at your pathetic state.

"Love, we need to treat your wounds," he starts off quietly, not having any haste to move you, "Johnny'll go get you some food, and then we can get you settled into bed, okay?" He's making it sound more like a question, but you know it's just to make you aware of their next movements.

Even so you can't help but cling to Johnny's presence as he starts to unattach himself from the cuddle. You look up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would stay if you just used puppy eyes enough. You almost think he'll budge as he moves closer to you again, his lips descending onto yours for a chaste kiss. Reluctantly he pulls away again, "Be back soon, ah promise ye."

Before you can protest and force him to stay, Simon scoops you up and places you on the bathroom counter. Distracting you from Johnny's quest of finding food that will be easily digested. He holds your face in his hand to keep your eyes on him, while the other one rummage through a cabinet.

You had gotten extremely lucky all things considered, the worst of your injuries the long scrapes on your back from sliding down a hill with sharp rocks. The rest included rough bruises, sore joints, and jumbled mind. Your other teammates had been much less fortunate, led right into their death by your own incompetence.

You're softly called back to reality, Simon gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek and calling your name. You don't know how long you were zoned out, but it was long enough to give him that worried glint in his eye. "Sorry..." you croak, swallowing thickly to hold it all back but this time it's not as easy.

The tears come slow and quiet, the shake in your body forcing them out of your waterline and down your cheekbones. He gently wipes them away, pulling you in closer to his body again and cradling you against his chest. "You survived," he reminds you, "You're still here."

You want to nod along with him and take in his words to keep close. But you don't know if you agree with him, you survived but should you have? Why did you survive and not Jacob, not any of the other soldiers who trusted you to see it through.

Simon placed a soft kiss to the top of your head and then leaned over you to get a look at your back. He gave no reaction to whatever he saw as to not make you panic, though from the bleeding warmth in your back told you it probably wasn't looking the best.

"Lean back for me pet," he instructs you, slowly plucking you from his chest. With a reluctant sigh you lean back and look down at yourself. Your eyes trailing over every little bruise that littered your body. Simon was silent as he took care of you, giving you gentle squeezes over small kisses after every little wince you made.

When he was done treating the visible wounds, you could hear Johnny rustling around outside the bathroom. The only thing left was your back, the one you dreaded the most out of all your wounds. Simon leaned back just as Johnny came back into the room, a set of your clothes hanging over his arm. He places it on the counter and picks through it, handing you a fresh set of underwear, sweats, and t-shirt.

"Wait with the shirt, need to check over your back," Simon reaches over for the underwear and sweats, helping you into it and lowering you back to the floor. You stretch out your limbs, groaning as you feel the exhaustion in your body, your joints popping when you stretch your arms above your head.

Johnny takes your hand in his own, smiling at you and leading you into the bedroom. "Ah found ye some soup, there wasn't a lot to choose from at this hour," he told you as you crawl onto the bed. You glance at the nightstand, the soup bowl steaming and looking good enough to make your mouth water. The little chocolate bar next to it makes you smile, just until Simon guides you to lay on your stomach.

The real pain is about to start, you think. His hands smoothe over your back, avoiding the ridges of your wounds and grabbing the salve. "It'll be quick, am sure" Johnny lowers himself onto the bed next to you, mimicking your way of laying. His head right next to yours, his loving eyes staring into your own and the giddy smile he wore made you huff out the air in your lungs.

"Hi"

"Hi"

His hand reaches out and caresses your cheek, gently running his fingers over your scalp. He does his best at distracting you from the pain in your back. "How ye feelin'?" he asks quietly, his thumb running over your cheek and fixating on your lip.

"Like shit," you scoff and turn your face into the mattress. You feel Simon's hand run over your back, the aching pain making you whine into the sheets. His hands hesitate, smoothing over unscarred skin as an apology before going back to his work.

The work on your wounds is tedious, and when he finally pulls away your eyelashes are wet. The clutch you have on the sheets beneath you is starting to hurt your knuckles. Simon's touch leaves you, but you don't take any action to turn or move. Someone else guides you to move, the difference in touch leading you to believe it's Johnny.

He moves you closer to him, slowly turning you up so you're sitting and leaning against him. He gently helps you into a t-shirt before moving you around like a ragdoll once more. You're settled between his legs, your back to his front and his big forearms wrapped around your waist. He buries his head in your neck, squeezing you and inhaling your scent as if it's the only thing he ever needs.

"C'mon, you need'ta eat," the bed dips as Simon gets back on it, this time having the bowl of soup in hand. He settles in front of you both, reaching forward and gently rubbing your calf. "And we need to talk," he knows you don't want to, that you'd rather bury it deep. Unfortunately for you, he also knows where that will lead you, and the sooner you put it into words for them the easier you'll be able to process it.

You take the bowl from him, agreeing to at least eat something. You couldn't remember when you last had gotten something nutritional, your stomach felt like a gaping hole that was trying to eat itself. You brought the spoon to your lips and savored the taste. Despite the limited options Johnny had still managed to get the things you liked.

"Don't wanna talk," you mumble between your bites, trying to ignore the look Simon is giving you by staring into your swirling soup. "There's nothin' to talk about," You swallow thickly, ever since you had been back you had been fighting the thoughts that urged to trap you. They were just waiting for you to trip in your careful state, they would pull you under the bridge, drown you into the water until you couldn't breathe through your panic.

Simon didn't let go of your leg, rubbing slow soothing circles into your calf. His full attention was on you, and there was nowhere to hide from the man in front of you and the man behind you. Johnny placed a soft kiss to your neck, and mumbled into your skin, "We know ye don' wanna, Leannan, but when ye came back ye were like a Ghost."

When you didn't answer they elected to let you eat in silence for a while longer, unaware to the emotional storm inside your body. You knew that you would have to make that report eventually, that they would hear about the details eventually. But actually, being met with the demand was something else entirely.

You didn't know if you could bear their reactions, the thought of them being disappointed in you made the anxiety roar. You didn't want them to realize that all the time they had spent being proud of you for your achievement had been wasted. That you were nothing of what you promised to be.

You only realized how shaky your hands had become again when you raised the spoon to take another bite. Simon let out a soft sigh, before taking the spoon and bowl from you so you didn't spill on yourself or Johnny. "Darling?" the question was laid bare for you, he gave you the opening to start talking, to confide in them like you always did.

Your hands fall to your lap, right along with your sight. You try to calm your own nerves, trying to rationalize the stirring thoughts in your head. After an elaborate breath, that is more like an exhausted sigh, you find your words. "It was supposed to be a simple op, and it was in the start, find the target and neutralize him," you start quietly, grasping your own hands together.

"But once we were there and set up, nothing went as planned," you lightly shake your head along to your words, "They knew we were coming and hunted us like dogs." You swallow thickly, noting how the shakiness had nestled into your voice. "I tried to reroute our objective; we tried getting out of there, but this was unlike anything I had ever been up against."

Johnny's hand came to encapsulate your own, stilling your shakiness and you freeze up. Feeling all to self-aware all of a sudden, how the attention was on you, as they listened like you were the most important thing in the world. It was both a warm and agonizing feeling, their protectiveness was nice, but it was also scary.

"We were so close to getting out but...they were faster and I...I couldn't..." you choked back on your own voice, feeling the hotness burn on the back of your eyes. "They were better..." you admitted in a whisper, "If I had taken a different route maybe we could have avoided the trap, maybe we could have gotten the drop on them before they got to my team but...."

The feeling of Simon's hand cupping your cheek made you halt, teary eyes meeting his in temporary shock. "It wasn't your fault love," the sincerity in his voice rocks something deep in you, "There was no way anyone could've known." You tilt your head to the side slightly, you wanted to argue, to tell him you could've done a thousand things better.

"Aye, ye acted just how ye were supposed to, ye kept a level head and guided the rest to the best of yer ability," Johnny briefly took over. His voice was hot on your ear, his quiet whispers just as reassuring as the hand on your cheek, "Ye did everything ye could, and ye survived because of it."

"But they didn't..." You sank further into Johnny, sniffling as you held his thumb inside the little cocoon, he made of both of your hands. "They died because of me," you try to argue, despite being grateful that they didn't seem mad you almost wanted them to lash out, to give you right, to let you feel like a monster.

"They didn't die because of you, they died in action, trying to complete the mission they were given," Simon's voice turned a tad harsh, the determination to get through to you all the more prominent. "They knew this was a possibility when they signed up, you did everything you could for them, and the way you make it up to them is to keep going," he told you sternly.

"I know what it's like, to have people fall under your command," he sighs, "S'never not tough, and it's all too easy to fall into the spiral of whose fault it was." You paid close attention to him as he spoke, he always had a captivating way of speaking, just like when he dished out orders, he commanded authority in his mere presence. "It's somethin’ that happens love, it's important to mourn and assess," he looks you directly in the eye, "But it's also important that you know, it makes you neither monster nor failure."

You never knew whether to love or hate the way he could read your brain like had he telepathy, or personal access to your every little fear and sorrow. "It doesn’t make it feel any better," you said quietly, tilting your head into his palm, nuzzling against his skin.

"I know" he puts the half-finished bowl on the nightstand, "Gonna hurt for a while, but we'll be here with you through it." He gave you a half smile, moving closer so he could place a kiss to your forehead. "We're not going anywhere, ain't that right Johnny?" he glances to the man behind you.

"Aye," Johnny's chest rumbles with a hum, his lips placing a trail of loving kisses over your neck. "Not gonna let those nasty thoughts get to ye," he whispers and slowly moves you as Simon directs. Johnny gets you on your side in the bed, your back pressed even further into his chest. Simon gets out of the bed but only for a brief moment. The lights turn off above you, and soon after the bed dips.

You sigh when you feel Simon's skin on your own, his lips find your cheek as he settles in with you and Johnny. His arm supporting both you and Johnny's heads, his other hand coming over you to hold onto the man behind you after moving your hair out of your face. Compressed between them like this always felt like heaven, the pressure they put on your body was grounding and reminded you that you weren't alone.

"Sleep now," Simon's voice rumbled, "We'll be here when you wake up, and we can try again."

They were always here for you, even when you didn't know you needed the extra support. They had worked with you for so long, you had changed a lot with them and for the better. You felt safe with them, no matter how many times you would fall, they would always be there to catch you and get you back on your feet.

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated<3

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[holdmytesseract]

A Stroke Of Fate

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N

Summary: Life isn't always sunshine and rainbows. You and Loki learn that in a very hard way. A path you are forced to walk on, which puts your love, relationship and even marriage to the test.

Warnings: 18+! MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING! PROCEED WITH CAUTION! Angst, grief, sadness, loss, fights, mentions of injuries, pregnancy/pregnancy loss! trauma, misunderstandings, inappropriate touching - no rape, but it goes in that direction, violence? fluff! tiny bit of suggestive smut - blink and you'll miss it. Tell me if I missed something!

Word Count: 6k

a/n: This is most likely the saddest thing I have ever written - and it hurt me to the very core to do this to Y/N and Loki, but I had to. The idea was in my head for a long time. I fully blame 'Stay' by Rihanna and Mikky Echo.

Also, this isn't just another Baby Fever fic... This takes their story into a new direction - kind of...

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Loki’s eyes widened in realisation; jaw slacking. He wasn't able to move a single muscle. All he could do was stare. Stare at the tiny, seemingly plain object laying inside his big palms.

Millions of thoughts ran through his head at lightning speed. The god's heart pounded violently against his ribcage. He tried to focus, but he couldn't. Too overwhelmed by the various emotions coursing through his veins.

But at last, he felt how the happiness finally took the upper hand and overweighed everything.

Tears started to pool in his oceanic blues; clouding his vision. And with the first tears falling from the corner of his eyes, Loki sunk to his knees on the bathroom floor; clutching the small object tightly against his chest; crying.

All he wanted was to get a towel from the little cabinet underneath the sink to clean up the mess two-year-old baby Narfi had made with his sippy cup - and now he was holding the future in his hands. Literally.

Loki had anticipated a lot... But certainly not to find a positive pregnancy test. Obviously, your pregnancy test; hidden in between the towels.

"Rogers!" Loki called after Cap, before he could step inside the elevator. The blond man's eyes lifted and landed on the god, who was literally jogging down the long hallway, with little Narfi on his arm.

"Have... Have you seen my wife?" He asked; tears still pricking his eyes. Steve raised an eyebrow and thoroughly scanned the prince's features. "Is everything alright, Laufeyson?" Loki nodded quickly; causing his raven locks to gently bounce against his shoulders. "More than alright, Rogers. Now have you seen my wife?" "Um, yes, I- I think she's in the training room, testing her new combat suit. At least that's what Y/N said earlier when we-" Loki slapped Steve's shoulder; interrupted him. "Thank you, Rogers." The god smiled at Steve and rushed past him; quickly pressing the button on the elevator.

Before the soldier could react, the metallic doors shut close in front of him.

Loki could barely contain his excitement. Something the little man on his arm noticed as well...

Narfi looked at his father with big ruby eyes. Sure, he didn't understand the situation, but the boy also didn't have to yet. He was still so young. Lifting a little blue hand, Narfi touched his father's cheek; feeling a tear against his tiny fingers. "Daddy?"

Loki smiled at his son. He adjusted the two-year-old on his arm and turned his head; kissing his palm and blew a raspberry against the skin - which caused Narfi to giggle and Loki to smile even wider. "Let's go, see mommy, yes?" He run his free hand through Narfi's short black curls; still fighting the tears. "See mama?" The god nodded; chuckling. "Yes, little man."

With a ding arrived the elevator on the 5th floor and the doors slid open. Loki stepped out and let Narfi stand on his own small two feet. Then the god squatted down and quickly fixed the boy's jumper. Today he wore the beige one with the dinosaurs on it - gifted to him by his uncle Scott. Narfi's forest green sweatpants needed adjustment, too, since they were still a little too big. After that was done, he stood up again and took Narfi by his hand. "Come one, buddy."

Together, they rounded the corner and entered the training room - well, rather small hall. It had everything an Avenger needed to prepare and train for missions.

Loki’s eyes immediately searched for you - and they found you quickly. You were standing on a mat; doing some stretches, launches and small jumps. Testing your new combat suit - like Steve said. If it weren't for all the Serotonin and Oxytocin coursing through his veins, he'd probably ravish you right then and there. Anyways, he was happy that no one was around...

Narfi was the one to announce your men's arrival. As soon as he saw you, he squealed out and ran as fast as his little legs carried him towards you.

"Mama!"

You immediately turned at the call of your child; seeing Narfi and Loki. You smiled and squatted down; ready to catch the boy. "Mama!" "Hey, sweetie!" You hugged him close and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Are you and daddy visiting me?" Your son nodded. "Uh.Huh." "Ohh, that's great." You ruffled his hair and stood up again to greet Loki.

"Hey, babe." You smiled and wrapped your arms around your husband's neck. "Hello, love." He placed his hands on your hips; pulling you closer. That was the moment you saw tears glistening in his eyes. He cried... You were of course immediately worried; your brows slanting. "Loki, why are you crying? What is-" He interrupted you with his lips on yours; kissing you with all the love he possessed for you.

Only Narfi's little tuck on his sweatpants was able to break the kiss. "Daddy! Narfi pway ball?" Both, yours and Loki's gaze followed Narfi's pointing. Loki chuckled; realising that the blue softball the boy always played with when he was with you or Loki laid only a few meters away from him. "Sure, buddy, go play."

Narfi ran away; giggling and started to kick the ball across the floor.

"Loki, what is it? You are crying, what's the matter?" Your husband smiled; thumbs tracing over your clothed hips. "I love your new suit." You couldn't help but smile as well, but still quite a bit confused. "Thank you, I... I thought it was time for a new one." "It fits you, my love. You look absolutely ravishing, if I might say so." You bit your lip; noticing the naughty, mischievous glint in his blue eyes. "Ahh, I see..." You giggled and pulled him into another kiss; not forgetting to cast an eye on your son now and then.

With a soft pop ended Loki the kiss - still smiling like a Cheshire cat. "But... You won't need this suit very much longer, right?" He whispered, and you could see how another tear rolled down his cheek.

And suddenly it fell like scales from your eyes. Your brain had quickly connected the dots.

You swallowed. "You... You found the-" "Pregnancy test, yes." Loki finished your sentence with a small sob. "B-But how? I thought I hid it so well..." The god chuckled; shaking his head. A tear dropped from his chin on his sweater. "Not good enough, my love. Narfi spilled water over the table with his sippy cup a-and I needed a towel, so..." You face-palmed yourself. "So you looked in the cupboard underneath the sink, of course. Silly me..." You giggled along Loki, who pulled you closer again.

"I assume you planned to surprise me. I apologise for ruining it." You shook your head; playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. "Indeed yes, but it's okay. It's been a surprise for you nevertheless..." Your husband shook his head - still in disbelief and with silent tears running down his cheeks. "I can't believe that this little joke of ours turned into reality so quick." "Well... I have been asking for it and challenged you, so..." A deep chuckle rumbled through Loki's chest. "Never challenge a half Frost Giant in spring to such things." "Yup, lesson learned," you giggled.

Your husband wrapped you up in a big hug then; holding you close, while you kissed his tears away. "No, honestly, darling... This is great," he whispered; gazing deeply into his eyes. Loki was positively radiating happiness - you could feel it. You nodded. "It is."

He kissed you once again; soft lips melting against yours.

You and Loki sat down on one of the benches then, which lined the wall beside the entrance; watching Narfi play and burn off energy. You had placed a hand on his thigh - which Loki had now wrapped up in his bigger hand.

"When did you take the test, love? And do you know how far along you are? I tried to figure it out myself, but we do way too much love making to do so." A snort, followed by a laugh slipped past your lips and you slapped his thigh. "Loki!" "What?" He asked; smiling mischievously and shrugged his shoulders. "It's the truth, is it not?" You just giggled, but nodded.

He wasn't wrong, after all.

"I took the test three days ago, but I have absolute no idea how far along I am. I'm gonna call my gynaecologist tomorrow and make an appointment." You smiled and squeezed his hand. "You could accompany me..." Loki gazed into your eyes and tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "I'd love to."

Just a few days later, you had your appointment at your gynaecologist's. Loki accompanied you. Ella was at school and Narfi with his auntie Nat. A white lie needed to be told to your best friend, since you didn't want to shout the good news from the rooftops yet.

The pregnancy test you took didn't lie to you. You were, in fact, pregnant again. Five weeks, said your gynaecologist, so it was new, fresh and vulnerable. You and Loki decided to tell it nobody yet. Not a single soul. Not even Frigga. And it turned out to be the right decision, because what happened only three weeks later was something you never thought would happen. At least to you...

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" You asked Loki, while you stood in front of the mirror. The god was leaning against the wall of the bathroom behind you. He had his hair tied up into a bun and his hands buried in the pockets of his sweatpants. "No, thank you, darling. I'd rather stay here with the kids." You giggled and caught his gaze in the mirror. "Does that mean you prefer Ella's tea party over a night out?"

Loki couldn't help but smirk, "Oh, definitely." and join your laughter.

"Alright..." You started; lastly applying some perfume to complete your look. "I'll be going now." You turned to face your husband. Placing both hands on his chest, you leaned in to kiss him.

Loki nodded; pulling you closer by the belt around your waist. "Take care, alright? Please, by the love of the Norns, look after yourself and the little bean, yes?" You rubbed your palms across his pecs. "Of course, my love. I promise." You kissed him again and then left the bathroom. "And no alcohol!" You heard Loki calling after you. "I know, babe!" You giggled.

After you bid your goodbye to Ella and Narfi; giving them both a big smooch on the cheek, you met up with Nat and Jane to go out for a, well... small girl's night out.

The actual plan was to do a 'couple night's out' - but none of the boys wanted to join in and Pepper and Jane didn't have time in the end as well. Therefore it was just you, Nat and Wanda.

"No Loki?" asked Jane as you walked out of the building. "Nope... He preferred Ella's tea party." That had the three of you giggling. "Understandable," threw Nat in. "Ella's tea parties are the best."

You and the girls headed for your favourite bar; talked, danced and definitely had fun. It seemed like a perfect night. At that point, you not waisted one thought that it could turn some way somehow sour...

But it did. In the worst way possible. A harmless night, which turned into a nightmare.

Shaky hands reached for your mobile. It was almost midnight. You had danced around this for minutes now; not conjuring enough bravery to call him. By now you've tried about a million times - failing.

So, once more you took a deep breath, squeezed your red and teary eyes shut and swallowed the lump in your throat. Your finger hovered above the green button beside your husband's contact.

I have to, I have to, I need to, I want to, you repeated within your head like a mantra, now or never - and finally tapped on the button.

His phone rang. One, two, three, four, a fifth time. You already were on the verge of hanging up when a sleep filled voice croaked out: "Darling?"

On every other day you'd have found Loki's sleepy voice drop-dead sexy... Not today.

"L-Loki?" You heard a bit of a rustling on the other end. "M here, my love, 'm here," he said huskily; "Wha' is it?" audibly trying to wake up. You swallowed hard. "I-I..." You had to cut off your own sentence, in order to hold back the tears - unsuccessfully. A small sob slipped past your quivering lips. Something the god on the other end picked up. It didn't slip his notice.

He immediately sat up and switched on the lamp above his bedside table; wide awake all of a sudden. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"I... I am at t-the h-hospital."

Loki's eyes widened instantly in shock and fear; his heartbeat skyrocketing. "I beg your pardon; you are where?" You swallowed again; feeling the tears run down your cheeks. "The h-hospital."

Loki was already jumping out of bed.

"What?! Why?! By the Norns, what happened?! Are you hurt?!"

You wanted to scream.

"T-There was... was an incident at the b-bar and-" Loki was already slipping inside a white shirt; hastily buttoning it up and totally forgetting about his magical abilities at that moment. All he could think about was you... And his unborn child.

"I'm coming, love! I'm on my way, I-" "No," you interrupted your husband; causing him to stop dead in his movements - frowning.

"Stay w-with the kids, okay? You..." Fresh tears ran down your cheeks. "You can't leave them a-alone." "But..." Loki threw immediately in; blinded by his fear and worry about the woman he loved; about to just act headless. "Please, Loki, please," you pleaded. "Natasha is going t-to take me home. I-I just wanted to... To tell you."

Your words confused Loki. She can leave the hospital already? "B-But, love, what-" You couldn't take this anymore. You didn't have the strength to talk to him further - and you'd need all your remaining power to keep up the façade later in front of your best friend. "I'll tell you later, I p-promise," you managed to somehow choke out...

...and hung up.

Natasha and you had returned to the Avengers compound about an hour later. Now you were standing in front of the door to your family's apartment. You were exhausted. So utterly exhausted. All your power spent on crying and pretending everything was alright. All you wanted was to break down and cry yourself to sleep - but you had to talk to your husband first...

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside the dark apartment. Mostly dark apartment. The only light source came from the living room. He was waiting for you. Of course he was waiting for you.

You could already picture it in your head. He'd walk up and down in the room; worried and afraid - like a caged and hurt animal.

You took a deep breath; gathered all your leftover strength and made your way into the living room.

Loki was indeed walking up and down the room, but currently had his back to you and a hand in his messy curls. You swallowed.

"Loki..."

The soft, almost inaudible call of his name attracted his attention. He swiftly turned around; facing you. Worry was written all over his face. Your husband's eyes widened, "Y/N!" before he literally ran over to you. His big palms landed on the sides of your upper arms and his oceanic, tear stained blues wandered up and down your body; searching for injuries. "What happened?! What is wrong?! How are you feeling?!" The god's mind was racing - already. And you'd make it worse.

Tears pooled in your eyes again, just at the mere thought of what you were going to tell him.

"At... At the bar, there was an... an incident and-" While you spoke, his palms had wandered down your arms and to your hands. He lifted them gently and wanted to kiss your knuckles, as a frown formed on his forehead. "Y/N, what..." Loki interrupted you; thumbs brushing over the bruises on your wrists. "What is this? Tell me what happened, please. Right now."

You swallowed again, nodding. "There was a-a man. He... He had his eyes on me the whole evening. I could feel it. He was watching me. Just me. Not N-Nat or Wanda. Me." You could already see how Loki's jaw tightened. Anger was taking over his system already. "At s-some point I had to go to the ladies. He... He followed me. He said that he had cast an... an eye on me and that he would like to..." You cut off your own sentence. Not that you needed to finish it. Loki knew what you were going to say. "I refused, of course. T-Tried to stay polite and leave, but... He didn't let me. He... He trapped me inside the ladies, caged me against the wall." That's where the bruises come from, Loki thought. "I fought against it - against him. He was so strong."

Loki felt like he could burst because of the anger and fear running through his veins. "Please tell me he didn't..."

You knew what he wanted to say and quickly shook your head. "N-No, I headbutted him, t-then kicked him in the balls a-and perhaps even broke his nose." A relieved breath left your husbands lips. "That's my girl."

"He fled then, but..." Loki’s face hardened again. "But what?" Deep down the god knew there must have happened something else. Unless Natasha and Wanda wouldn't have taken you to the hospital.

"He... He had slammed my head against the wall, which resulted in a small cut and-" "There's more?!" You could already hear in his voice that he was furious once more. You knew that he'd love to find that guy right now and do terrible, awful things to him.

You nodded once more. "When he grabbed me, I... I tried to fight against him a-and escape. I almost made it, but then he..." You had to swallow down the lump in your throat and suppress the tears. "He kneed me in the s-stomach to prevent me from e-escaping."

Your husband's mind was way too clouded with anger and fear. He couldn't think clearly, and therefore was unable to connect the dots. Norse curse words spluttered from his lips and his eyes darkened. Threat his family and you'll bring out the darkest side of him - you knew that.

"I'll find him, my love." "Loki." You spoke in a weak voice, trying to get through to him. "I'll find him and then I'll kill him." "Loki." "Slowly and intimately." "Loki, please." "I'll make him pay for what he did to you and-" You couldn't take it any longer. You had to tell him.

"Loki, I lost the baby."

Your sentence cut through the air like his daggers through skin. Loki's mouth clapped shut and a very unpleasant silence spread in the living room. He needed a second to process your words. You just stared at him; silent tears running down your cheeks and dripping on your blouse, as you watched Loki fall apart in front of you.

"W-What?" He croaked out; seemingly still unable to grasp this.

"I... I lost our baby."

He started to shake his head. "No, that's... It can't be. Everything was alright!" "I know," you sobbed. "But I was at the hospital... They checked. The incident caused the m-miscarriage." You stepped closer and reached for his hands. Loki blinked; tears escaping the corner of his eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry."

You wanted to hug your husband; catch him mid-falling and preferably crash on the hard ground of reality together with him - but he took a step back. "No, no, no, no..." His hands suddenly dropped yours. Without his touch, you had never felt more cold and lonely.

"Loki, what-" "This is your fault." He suddenly exclaimed; driving an invisible dagger straight through your heart. "It's your fault, Y/N and you know it. I told you! I told you to stay and not go in the first place! I told you to take it easy this early in the pregnancy!" He ran both his hands over his face and tugged frustratingly at his raven curls, while you just stood there; frozen. You didn't know what was happening.

"We almost lost Narfi, because you explicitly wanted to accompany me to that stupid charity event and now?! Now exactly that happened, of what I've always been afraid of! Of what I've always warned you! But no... You just didn't want to listen!"

You were still staring at him, mouth agape. This wasn't real, you thought. I must be dreaming.

"M-My... My fault?" You croaked out; feeling like you were going to fall apart. "Yes!" Loki hissed. "You heard what I said, did you not?!" Sure, you understood that this was equally as hard and sad as it was for you. You understood the cocktail of emotions which must be brewing inside of him, but that... That was unacceptable. You hoped he'd catch you, be there for you, grieve together with you... But certainly not that he'd blame you.

"How can you blame me for this? I didn't kick myself in the gut, did I? Besides, you could've just accompanied me! Perhaps all of this would've never happened, but no, Mr. Laufeyson didn't want to!" You felt how anger rose within you as well. It was just too much.

"Me?!" Loki hissed; pressing his pointer finger in the muscle on his chest. "Oh, I'm the one to blame now?! Sure... It's easy to blame me - for everyone! Just blame the former war criminal. Just blame the untrustworthy god. Just blame the monster from another realm - and all your problems are solved!" He laughed bitterly; shaking his head.

"That's... That's not what I meant - and you know it!" Your husband cocked his head. "Oh no? It's not? Enlighten me then, Y/N!"

You sighed. "Look... I understand your worries. I really do, but I can't just sit on the sofa 24/7 and not move a muscle, just because I'm pregnant! That's not how it works!"

Loki snorted. "Well, it should! As you can see, everything else is apparently not working!" You shook your head; stepped closer to Loki. "We... We just lost our baby... Shouldn't we... Shouldn't we grieve toge-" The god interrupted you, tears streaming down his face. "Yes, and I'm not the one to blame." With those words he brushed past you, "I will be sleeping on the sofa tonight." and left you behind; feeling more cold and lonely than you ever did in your whole life before...

The loss of the new life growing within you and the fight you and Loki had that night caused a wide rift to appear between the two of you. It split your relationship apart. Everything else would be a lie.

You felt how he grew cold and distant. Just like you did. The once perfectly harmonic, loving and desiring bond cracked.

Sure, there had always been fights, misunderstandings and disagreements - totally normal things. But this... This was different.

...and you just didn't know how to stop your marriage from falling apart...

Whenever you tried to speak with him about the topic, he'd immediately steered the conversation into a different direction. Hence, he talked less to you in general. No deep conversations anymore, no love declarations - nothing.

The communication lacked, just like the physical touch. You'd get a kiss from time to time, yes, but nothing more. Barely cuddles, no long, intimate kisses and certainly no sex.

It hurt you. To the core - but the sad thing about it all was, that you actually hadn't a single reason to complain, because you weren't better. You gave him just as little as he gave you. It was a mutual thing - and at some point didn't go unnoticed anymore...

"Y/N."

"Y/N, hey."

Natasha's voice urged to your ears, but didn’t reach your brain. All you did was staring ahead; totally lost in thoughts. Only when you felt her touch on your shoulder was your best friend able to get through to you.

"Babes, your glass in flowing over." You snapped your head down at her words; eyes widening. "Shit, shit, shit." You hastily turned off the tap, while Nat helped you to dry the outside of the glass, so you could wipe your hands on a kitchen towel.

"Thanks, Nat." You took the glass, "I-I've been a bit lost in thoughts." and gave her a small smile. "Yeah, I saw that," the Widow pointed out and crossed her arms over her chest, before she leaned against the bar counter across from you.

"Okay, babes... We definitely need to talk." You swallowed; frowning. "Talk? W-Why?"

Nat scoffed. "Oh, please stop that, Y/N... You can't fool me. Perhaps the others around us, but not me. Something's off. I can tell. You've been so absent-minded lately. Always in thoughts and very quiet. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes either - and..." She gave you an intense look. "... the most worrying thing... You behave differently around Loki. More distant. Colder. Less touchy." Her eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong between you two? And no, don't tell me it has just been a small fight, because this goes already on for at least two weeks. I saw it. So, don't even try to shit me, girl."

You swallowed again. That was clearly an order. You already knew that you weren’t going to lie yourself out of this situation, but... Did you even want that? Perhaps it was good to finally get this off your chest...

So, you nodded; nervously fumbling with your hands. "You... You are right. But, please can we talk about this in private?" Her eyes widened. "It is that bad?" You took a deep breath; nodding again."I'm afraid, yes."

Natasha nodded; rubbing your upper arm in a reassuring manner. "Let's head over to mine. Bruce is in the lab."

You followed your best friend to her apartment and only five minutes later sat down on her sofa; Nat following. "He didn't cheat on you, did he? Because if this fucker did, I'm going to cut off his ba-" "He didn't," you immediately interrupted her. "Loki never would. I know that. You know that." The red-haired beauty looked you straight in the eyes. "What did he do then?"

You swallowed. Memories of that night four weeks back started to flood your brain and causing you to hold back the tears.

"Remember that night where... Where we were at that bar? You, Wanda and I? And that incident with that strange man? You, taking me to the hospital afterwards?" The spy nodded; "Of course, yes." listening to you patiently. "I told you it was about the cut on the back of my head - and that was the truth, but... There was also something else..." You had to take a deep breath.

No one besides Loki had known about the pregnancy... Until now.

"He kneed me in the stomach - which wouldn't have been that much of a problem, but in my case it was, because I..." Your best friend's eyes widened. She was smart and therefore seemingly already had connected the dots. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Nat's eyes dropped to your stomach, before they lifted to face you again. "Are you...? Again?"

You nodded. "Pregnant, yes. I-I was pregnant again." Those words still hurt you more than you thought. You lowered your head; feeling a few silent tears running down your cheek.

"No... You... Oh my gosh..." Natasha gasped; immediately reached for your hand. "You're telling me that this wanker caused you to have a... miscarriage?" "Yes."

"Shit, I'm so sorry, babes. Gods, that's horrible. Come here." Your best friend hugged you tightly against her chest; just letting you cry for a while.

"And... Loki?" You snivelled. "Well, that's the point... I told him afterwards. We kinda had a fight and... He blamed me, I blamed him and ever since we didn't properly talk. We are drifting more and more apart. What had happened, split our relationship. We are losing each other - and it kills me." "Why didn't you talk with him then?" You swallowed; shaking your head.

"Because I feel like the rift between us is already too big. I won't make the jump." Nat squeezed your hand. "But you gotta try, babes. You love that man, right? He's your soulmate. The love of your life. Your baby daddy." You nodded. "Yes, I... I do. With all my heart." "See? You gotta try. But remember... It takes two to tango."

Her last words roamed through your head even several hours after the conversation. Perhaps it was really both your faults... You took a deep breath. You and Loki had to save this ship from sinking - at all costs. You didn't want to lose him. Never.

"Daddy?" Loki looked up at Ella. She was seated on the sofa backrest above him; legs dangling over his shoulders, as she was braiding several plaits into his long raven locks.

"Yes, princess?"

"You love mommy, right?"

The god's eyebrows slanted. "Of course, princess. Why are you asking?" The little girl shrugged her shoulders. "Because you and mommy don't have private time anymore."

Loki swallowed; realisation hitting him like a truck – completely out of the blue. "Well..." He cleared his throat. "Sometimes, we have little time for this, you know?" "Oh... Okay." Ella paused and Loki hoped that she'd just drop that topic know.

She did. Almost.

"Is mommy happy?" Ella dropped the next question, while small hands worked through another strand of her father's hair.

Again, Loki had to swallow - hard. "Y-Yes, I think so, why?" Yes, it was a lie. But he couldn't tell his eight-year-old daughter that you just lost her baby sibling, could he?

"But why is mommy crying so often then?"

Ella's next words hit Loki even harder. It felt like his heart was jumping over the edge of a cliff; free falling and shattering into a million pieces.

"W-What?" He croaked out; mouth falling agape.

"I see and hear mommy cry a lot."

Loki wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. You had shut him out - of course you did. After all he said why wouldn't you? You had every reason to banish him.

He blamed you; acted headless and stupid. He pushed you away when you needed him most. He fucked it up - real bad this time.

"I'm a fool..." Loki mumbled underneath his breath to himself. "I'm such a fool..."

"What did you say, daddy?" His daughter's innocent voice cut through the air once again. "Nothing, princess..." Loki answered; shaking his head. "I'm going to talk to mommy, okay?" Blue eyes looked up to meet his identical ones. "Will you make her feel better?" A breathless laugh escaped the gods lips; tears dripping down his chin. "Yes, princess... By the Norns, yes."

Loki watched you move through the kitchen from the hallway. He had just tucked the kids in and was finally able to talk with you. The conversation was long due.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer; feeling his heart hammering against his chest. He was so nervous. So afraid. What if you couldn't forgive him? What if he was going to lose you?

"Y/N?" The god called out your name softly. "Yes?" Your voice was cold. Distant.

A shiver ran down his spine.

"Darling, we... We need to talk... Please."

You froze in your movement; back towards your husband.

"Why? When I tried to talk to you a few weeks ago, you blocked me." Loki swallowed hard; Adam's apple bobbing within his throat. "I-I know, but... I see clearly now." He cautiously approached you. "I am so sorry, my love. I know now that I really fucked it up. I was- am such a fool. Norns, I don't know what has gotten into me. I... I just... saw red. Blaming you for the loss of our baby is the worst thing I ever did in my whole life." Tears pooled in his eyes, as you turned to face him.

"I pushed you away when you needed me the most. I should've been there for you. I should've supported you and help you through this, but no... I did the exact opposite." Loki paused for a moment; trying desperately to control his tears.

"I know what I did is unacceptable and I can't expect you to forgive me, but..." The god felt how his knees started to buckle. The weight of the possibility that you weren’t going to forgive him or even worse... Leave him, was hitting him full force. All his strength left his body and he fell down on his knees in front of you. "I-I'm begging you for forgiveness. Please, my love, please... I beg of you. Please don't leave me. I couldn't take it, I-" The lump in his throat cut off his sentence. All he could do was cry.

You witnessed the scenes in front of you; heart shattering.

"Loki..." Your soft, almost angelic voice urged to his ears. "Loki, I... I would never, ever - not in my wildest dreams leave you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I never could, I... I love you."

Blue eyes looked up at you in disbelief. "W-What? You... You forgive m-me?" You nodded; feeling tears build up in your eyes as well. You couldn't help but lower your hands and cup your husband's tear stained cheeks; feeling his soft skin underneath your palm. "Of course, my love."

Loki blinked. "Why? I treated you so bad. Something I swore I'd never do and yet I did... I blamed you for... For something which was entirely my fault."

You frowned. "Your fault? Why would this be your fault?" You wiped away another tear with your thumb. "It isn't, Loki. When it's somebody's fault, it's mine. You were right. It is my fault. I should've been more careful." "No..." Loki shook his head quickly. "No, Y/N, stop that right now, please... Don't blame yourself. I should've protected you better... And the baby, I... I failed."

You feared that your heart was going to stop beating right then and there. It hurt. Seeing Loki like that destroyed you. "No, Loki..." You sobbed and sunk to the floor as well; immediately embracing him. "We both failed, but... It happened. We can't change the past. We have to live with it." You felt Loki nod against your shoulder. "I-I know."

You squeezed him tightly against your body, just like Loki frantically tried to hold on to you. Finally, you felt better again. Since weeks. You had missed the comforting touch of your husband. It was all you ever wanted and needed. Just like he did.

You almost physically felt how the rift between you got smaller and smaller with each passing minute.

You had found each other again.

Neither of you knew how much time had passed. An hour? Two? More? But it also didn't matter. Not right now, not here. You were still embracing each other; your hand gently running through his long curls. "We're going to make this, okay? Together. Like everything before." Another nod from Loki. He was overwhelmed by all the emotions running through his veins. "Yes."

And you did.

Sure, what had happened didn't fail to leave marks on both you and Loki; a deep scar carved into your heart and soul - but it also didn't fail to make your bond stronger. Even if it did not seem like it at first.

Baby Fever Crew: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @simping-for-marvel @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake @anukulee @lady-rose-moon @ainsley30 @lovingchoices14 @lokischambermaid @irishhappiness @mandywholock1980 @totsnotlynn

#the baby fever au #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #loki angst #angst

[yxstxrdrxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Kazuha, a well-known tailor in Inazuma, had a spouse. It's only a shame that his spouse is known for their 'infidelity' in his eyes. [ songfic ]

TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking, minor and major character death/s, emotional manipulation in a way, gore, violence, fire/arson, sewing... questionable fabric, unreliable narrator, shifting POVs, dead dove: do not eat, dollification, delusional thinking, Kazuha progressively loses it till the end, beheading, oh God this fic and tws are long Im so sorry―

NOTE: During the fic, it is recommended to listen to "The Tailor of Enbizaka". It will make sense when you read through this fic :)

(also, I apologize if this took a while for me to write. I got busy and writer's block hit me :( anyways, second work and its the best boy! Though, I hope you all don't blame me for fucking him up. Also also!! This is very much a long, LONG fic— like 2k+ long, so 🫡 gl soldier, I'll see if I don't need to make this to a 2 part series)

(update: this fic took 6k words, good luck y'all, this one is a WILD ride)

In Inazuma, there is a tale that is shared by many about a crimson clad man and his lover.

The others never settled on what he looked during the day before his death, nor were they sure what his prior job was before he became a tailor. However, they always complimented him for his looks and his skill, knowing that whatever he used as his own special fabric would be tailored and taken care of well.

Even with one full of holes and tears, he is gifted with the ability to patch them up till it was brand new. In the village he lived in, he was regarded for having such a talent, and he had his shop open and full of visitors.

However, the only thing that made people question him was his behavior. Despite how mild-manner the tailor was, he often comments on how his beloved darling refused to come home and continues to cheat on him.

Many those that still lived during the time said the crimson-eyed tailor acted delusional, but just how far can those delusions go?

No one knows but the man himself... And the one who persecuted him, too.

It was that year since I've seen my beloved after the accident.

A year that, when I saw them, I've longed to see them and speak to them about our time together as a married couple.

To begin with, I am Kaedehara Kazuha, or― as the townsfolk here call me, the 'Crimson-Eyed Tailor'. Although I am highly regarded for my craftsmanship, many told me that I am odd for my adoration for my beloved maple.

Why is it that odd? I thought all married couples do this, even if some think that it feels off.

Besides that, however, my darling isn't quite aware of my... Endeavors. More specifically, their streak of getting out for hours, perhaps days and weeks, and not even coming around to speak to me.

I am bound to them by an oath when we were married: we both drank sake together under that faithful light of the moon, with only nature watching over us. However, it would seem as if they have forgotten that, and ended up cheating on me in broad daylight.

Like they had no such shame.

Alas, I am but their husband, and I can't simply get mad at my beloved spouse. I know they did no wrong, for they sometimes meet with others as an act of being 'friendly'.

So while I focused on fixing the kimono, I've began to hear something that had been passed around in the village.

Something related to my darling's little ventures.

"I have spoken to [Name] about the matters in their marriage recently," one of the ladies spoke, her voice not so soft enough to conceal who she was speaking about as I fixed the fabric in my hands.

"And from what they told me, they're getting their kimono fixed for when their lover returns home!"

I simply continued on sewing, but the lady's next words had me flinch.

"Ah, they've been married for years, aren't they? And it seems they even have their shiromuku ever since their marriage to sir Kamisato Ayato. How romantic!"

...

The blood continues to spill on my finger, with the needle that I used pricking it when I've lost focus and got too careless.

How uncouth.

From the tale shared by the folks of Narukami Island, they talked about the crimson-eyed tailor's marriage with his supposed 'spouse': an immigrant of sorts from Fontaine, traversing to Inazuma to meet with their lover.

Their relationship together is strange. From the accounts of those with prying eyes, they said that he was the only one putting an effort to their relationship, and they wished to take it slow.

However, there are those that disagreed, saying that it had been the other way around— and it was he who wished for them to slow down.

No one can decide what the tailor had done, for they can't even tell if his desires were to rush or to slow down. But what can be confirmed is one thing everyone kept saying.

He doesn't like his trust being broken.

It had been days after hearing what I did.

I hadn't seen my dearest beloved in those days, and the day I saw them had been when the heir of the Kamisato clan had returned.

I had been busy as ever in sewing till I realized that I'm running out of thread. I don't have any spares, and I'm well aware that there are a few shops that sell supplies for sewing.

And so, on a lazy afternoon, I've got out of my shop in the hopes that I can catch the store to buy the supplies I needed.

The soft sound of wood hitting the pavement greeted my ears, alongside hushed murmuring and discussing with the commonfolk. I greeted a few that noticed me in passing, but they were swift to return to the people they were speaking to prior.

It was a mundane thing, really. But it was the type that felt familiar.

Turning a few corners, I managed to locate the shop I was looking for. Walking up the stairs, I waved at the lady taking care of the store—

—not before my ears perked up at the soft chattering in the distance.

My eyes trailed over to the source, and then, I see them.

My beloved maple.

I saw that they were conversing with the heir of the Kamisato clan, his hand reaching over to hand them a small gift: a small box, with the ribbon being the color of purple. I spot the gleam of gold on top of the ribbon, which eludes me to think that it is the insigna of the clan crested in gold.

How tacky.

I had to hold back the urge to stop them as their conversation was hard to discern, my focus back on the woman running the shop with the supplies I require.

"Hello, madame," I greeted, making the woman smile and nod in greeting as well. "Do you need fabric again, Kaedehara?"

I chuckled, but it was only to mask the bits of instability in my voice.

"Oh, not fabric, madame. I simply desire thread. I have ran out of red and black, and I didn't want to delay the commission I had from monsieur Lyney. Do you have any right now?"

"Red and black thread, hm? I can check at the back. Please give me a moment to look."

With a bow, the seamstress turned around to leave. With that, I let go of the breath I held and turned my gaze back to the bridge, just a few ways away from where my beloved sunset was at.

Watching the two figures, I couldn't help but simply stared at the attire that the heir wore.

Montsuki Haori Hakama: that usually means black or gray. I've known that colored kimonos were not worn with this in mind, and he certainly didn't wore anything that would be too straining.

Still, that shade of black is made of high quality. I'm not surprised if he wore it so rarely, as though to preserve the detail and its intricate work from his very own seamstress.

...

I wonder if I can take it?

Watching the two descend from the bridge, my eyes wandered back to the lady as she returned with the spools of thread, all varying in degrees of color and quality.

"Here you are, Kaedehara! These are the best I can find that fit the colors you asked for."

My eyes twinkled as I took the spools to my hands, my fingers turning and nudging the thread to see just how strong it is.

Interesting. Good quality, too... Maybe I can use this to finish that outfit I've been saving for a while.

"Thank you, madame," I thanked her, making her laugh. "Oh, it's not a problem, Kaedehara! You've done so much for this little town of ours, this is but a simple thing to repay for your efforts!"

With a nod, I paid the seamstress and turned back down to descend from the bustling upper part of the town, the sight of what happened in the bridge a bit further away bothering me from within.

No matter, Kazuha, I mused, carrying the items I required as I felt myself walk back home. Even if you want to get rid of him, it will be much too complicated. You simply need to be patient and wait till the opportunity comes.

...

Although, whoever made his clothes... I wonder if I can speak to them to inquire about their techniques.

The first case that started this was a cold one.

One that is related to a person no one knew so highly about, be it by their background, appearance, and even their name. All they were known for is being the 'tailor' for one of the clans.

There had been a lack of evidence and information about this due to how many tailors had been requested all across Inazuma at the time. It was understandable that people chalked up to them being missing as nothing more than an unfortunate case, not one worthy of being dug into.

Others had suspected that it had been associated with something else, that something (or someone) had done this deliberately. There was no evidence to this, but their claims were loud as they were bold, making it difficult to ascertain its authenticity.

However, the masses have all agreed that this was a normal occurrence. It was not one worth noting, because there had been a lot more that spoke of the same tale, always eluding to their fate being that they were murdered.

It was, unfortunately, the 'norm' of the village in the legend. A norm that, if the people of Inazuma heard it today, would have turned their heads in disgust for how abhorrent it sounds.

Still, many remained curious of the biggest what if that seem to echo in their mind.

Was the tailor associated with his sins?

The Kamisato clan has had it's ups and downs, and it isn't strange to see that they were seeking out talented tailors and workers to work under them.

What was surprising (to everyone), however, was that the head of the clan hired me to work as the Kamisato Clan's personal tailor.

The reasoning behind it was quite simple, especially with what the heir spoke to me when he and I met in the morning when I was to be summoned in the estate— due to his personal tailor (a family friend, he said) going missing for days, they were unable to track down his whereabouts and presumed that he has gone missing.

I was only hired as a "replacement" for the clan's special tailor till then, and he made it extremely clear that there was nothing else to it. Nothing that would spell the fact that I will permanently stay in that position.

Of course, to many, this may sound as an odd deal. There are so many tailors such as myself that would die to be consulted on, to work as the head of the clan's seamstress and work for their outfits. And perhaps, in their naivety, they may consider it as their efforts finally paying off in some way.

However, I have been in a clan myself before. This is nothing more if not a business deal.

A deal between one rising clan, and one whose surname has lost it's widely known heritage.

This only benefits the Kamisato Clan in the effort to save face. To save face of the potential backlash they'll deal with should any information of the missing clan's tailor be brought to light to everyone who remain blissfully ignorant of the innerworkings of the clan.

I would normally deny this kind of offer, mostly because there is no benefit for me to join and work for them. However, times have changed, and I simply reconsidered denying Kamisato Ayato's offer.

... There is a few benefits to me joining. It may be minimal, but it is better than scrounging around in the dark.

And so, I agreed to the offer.

The arrangements set for me to move was quite swift. I'm aware that that he is a man of his word, so it was quite easy for us to prepare my living arrangements and move to the estate.

With the supplies I get from the clan, it's been easy to stay put and gather information to the person I'm targeting.

... That was, until that day came.

I remember it clearly: it was the ends of fall, where the maple leaves fell more and more around the estate's grounds. This usually signified the coming of winter, so I usually savor the season by having time off to admire the scenery.

And in one of my walks, I had travelled from outside of the estate to see if things have changed.

Which, to my luck, I've encountered my darling beloved.

But just like last time, they were not alone.

In the journey of my wandering, I have seen them speak to the sibling of the older heir, Kamisato Ayaka, as they sit on the table outside of the Komore Teahouse.

From how far I am to the entrance of the teahouse, it gives me enough space to watch them interact like friends. The way that the Himegimi raised her fan to cover her face, perhaps from her eyes crinkling in amusement from what they told her...

... It was intriguing. Very intriguing.

So much so that I've felt the claws of envy grip in my chest, clutching its metal nails and making punctures on my already bleeding heart.

What a nuisance. Must you hurt me like this, darling?

I can hardly remember what happened after that. After all, my focus had been set on the two speaking to each other like they were simply companions, unknowing of what fate may bring upon them.

...

"Oh? Kazuha! I didn't notice you came to the Teahouse as well!"

My attention was swiftly pulled away from the sight of my dearest gem, and it landed on the familiar sight of olive eyes. From the appearance alone, many wouldn't think that an immigrant of Mondstadt would be a fixer.

Not even I would be able to see it happen.

However, this man had the skills to prove of his worth— after all, being Inazuma's 'fixer', he's often the go-to man to fix any and every problem that the Narukami Island and others may face.

Which makes him a glass canon— one that is volatile and unpredictable, even under the guise of a friendly face.

That is what Thoma is.

But this "glass cannon" has his weakness, and I know how to use it to my advantage.

Letting a smile slip to my lips, I chuckled, raising my hand to cover my mouth. "Well, I've been foretold by others about Komore Teahouse and it's history. I've been meaning to visit it, but I'm so busy fixing kimonos and making them to have time to spare."

A white lie, but then again, there are many of those that have been foretold in the waking of this world.

What does adding one do at this point? I'm already damned by the heavens the day I've seen the 'truth' of this fate of mine.

Just one lie wouldn't hurt, right?

"Haha, I can't blame you," the taller blonde seem to answer my query with his own, albeit he did seem to look more like he was at ease. Still, I needed to be weary; he can change sides if he so much as sensed that something is wrong.

"After all, with what the missing tailor in the clan circulating around the others in the estate, I'm even surprised that you manage to fill up in their position for months!"

... Oh? So he's noticed my talents, hm?

I shook my head.

"Oh, please. I'm just a humble tailor, Thoma," I reasoned, letting out a heavy sigh. "I have thought of asking them for advice on how they do their work, but since they're missing, all I can do is substitute for their absence."

He gave me an apologetic smile and nodded.

"That is true... I guess I'm just a bit too ecstatic to finally have someone that can fill in their role seamlessly. Lord Kamisato Ayato would've been panicking if we didn't have a replacement soon for his anniversary with his spouse."

... Spouse, huh?

"Hm... Is that so?"

I frowned in thought as I ponder over wanting to... Ask him for a favor. Sure, this one wouldn't do well on one's conscious mind if they knew, but it was simply for their sake.

It was all for them. I knew that.

It wouldn't hurt anyone if I asked Thoma to do this for me. At least, while I still have the chance to do so.

I can only hope the cannon does not think of shooting it's shot to me if I slipped up.

"Speaking of, Thoma, may I ask you for a favor?"

After the first missing case of the tailor, there had been more that were reported. The victims were all varied in their appearance, age, and even from where they used to live, be it in Narukami Island or even outside of Inazuma itself.

It was difficult to tell how many there were exactly, especially with how the legend is interpreted. Some said it was 20, while others said it was 50. This legend has been passed mouth to mouth, so details were not a key figure for a few to remember well.

However, every iteration has the same detail. The victims all had the same similarity as the tailor that simply went "missing".

All of them, in some way, were associated with certain individuals— one of them being his maple, where a few commented that they were the apple of the crimson man's eye.

From the legend and how it has been told, it is safe to assume that the motive was obvious from the first missing case.

It is akin of an open secret, if said secret was twisted to fit his ideals.

"Haven't you heard?"

"What? What is it?"

"The fixer, Thoma… He went missing just few days ago."

"What!?"

…

Ah, so he went missing like the others?

My ears had perked up at the news that we were told. Although Thoma is one many people never thought of being a 'target', the fact he went missing is... Odd.

"Perhaps he had done something," I heard one of the servants whisper amongst themselves, looking rather cautious. "After all, he's been very privy on a few things..."

"Yes, but he isn't the person I'd expect to vanish like that—"

"Shh—! People are going to hear you, you know! Keep it down!"

Hearing their footsteps echo as they take their leave, I turned back to what I have been working on. The sight of the kimono graced my vision as I raised the needle.

I began to sew the tears on it, letting out a soft hum while I fixed the black fabric from it's horrible state.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut—

"Sir Kaedehara? Someone is looking for you."

...!

I felt the needle prick my finger, but I didn't say anything. With a quiet hum, I raised my head to see someone speak to me, their face grim as they shifted on their feet.

Ah.

Despite the feeling of blood pour onto the fabric, I smiled and nodded, putting down the fabric of the kimono I was fixing.

"I'll be right there. Please tell them to wait for me."

"Really? Oh, thank Archons. I'll get going."

Watching them take their leave, my eyes flit over to my scissors.

Still as sharp as ever, I mused, pushing myself to stand up before fixing my attire. Mayhaps today won't need it to be sharpened.

For now, I had to see what the client wants from me. It would simply be a shame if I leave them alone for far, far too long.

Mayhaps they're here to inquire about the kimono I made. I made sure to add my personal touch to it.

...

As I walked to where my client sought to look for me, I see a familiar sight befell in the grounds of the Kamisato Estate.

The himegimi is currently speaking to my betrothed like they are close companions, and the magician (Lyney was his name, I recall), had been listening to their discussion at hand.

His eyes seem to lit up when he saw me, offering me a welcoming grin.

"You must be the tailor that my sister assigned, aren't you?" he asked when I was close enough to hear him, making me chuckle. Taking a seat across, I simply nodded, keeping my professional smile and demeanor in fear of offending him.

"Indeed, I am that tailor. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Haha, please, the pleasure is all mine!"

The magician shook my hand with mine, and the meeting went as smoothly as one may expect. Although, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander sometimes to where my lover is.

You were speaking to Ayaka like she's a friend of yours. I shan't stop you, darling, but perhaps you aren't aware of the pain you put me through.

Still, I couldn't afford to raise my voice, nor can I think of hurting you with my actions.

How unfortunate. Mayhaps I need to teach you a lesson myself, my angel.

If there was one thing that the legend failed to elaborate, it is the state of the missing people. However, there were... Creative liberties to those that began to see if the legend was true; or, pray tell, associated with any real life events.

To the eyes of others, going missing is a serious deal. It sparks a lot of ideas for what could've happened to them, and especially if they are alive or dead.

Albeit many shrugged off the prior cases, this one was serious. After all, the one that went 'missing' is the fixer of Narukami Island— Thoma, the immigrant in the nation of lightning.

It is, after all, what sparked the eventual downfall of the crimson-eyed tailor and his beloved. Many had thought this was the turning point, but those that did were found to be wrong.

This, after all, was simply the beginning of such downfall. But it wasn't to his lover, the missing residents, or even his companions.

It was to himself, when he used the blades to commit a sin undeserving of forgiveness.

The news that brought upon the missing Himegimi greeted the Kamisato estate that day.

I remember how people were in a disarray. They were much more shaken as they tried to get any sort of lead to where she is, and for some, they were already thinking of quitting.

The estate is already shaken from when Thoma went missing, but now that the young heiress has up and disappeared— especially in winter— it was in chaos.

While I sew the kimonos handed to me, there was an obi that laid on the pile by my right. It was a bit worn, but it can still be saved.

I needed to fix it, and give it my own personal touch. That way, it wouldn't look as though it had been abandoned by it's past owner.

Alas, the noise is getting to me. I could feel the silk resting on my bandaged hand slip every once in a while, if it weren't for how tight I've been holding the fabric.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I needed to put my focus on what I'm doing. I needed to focus on the job.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I mustn't let blood nor dirt stain my creations.

That is what my mother taught me.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, se—

"I apologize if the estate is in a disarray, detective," I hear a familiar voice speak amongst the hushed and panicked whispers. "The estate hasn't been the same ever since my retainer and my younger sibling had gone missing."

"Oh, it's alright! I'm sure this matter is too serious for you and the others to keep things organized."

"Haha... You can say that it is. Now, it's just right this way..."

... A detective is in the estate. How curious.

It wasn't right to snoop, but I was curious. Curious enough to have finished the kimono I was fixing before I stood to leave my quarters.

The others paid no heed as I followed after the two to Ayato's room, too focused to do what they were assigned to even bat an eye when I got close to where they were heading.

It was only when they were inside that I've stopped and simply bid my time, my focus set on what was happening by the shoji leading to his office. And it didn't took long till I hear things from the other side.

"Ah, so you think that someone is out for you?"

"Yes. Although I am normally adept in figuring out who it could be that's causing this to happen, I can't put heads or tails with how their presence eludes me."

"Man alive... And you said that it started when they went missing?"

"... Yes, detective."

"I see... Man alive, that sounds like it wasn't just a single, one-off case, then. I can help you, but this will take a while if there's no leads."

"I see. It's fine, detective. I'll pay you enough when you figure out where my retainer and sister are. I could hardly think that someone would take them without such consequence."

"Oh, no worries. With me around, no criminal will get out unscathed— I'll make sure to bring them here when I figure out who did this."

...

I see.

Perhaps its about time I have to settle this with him.

There was a time where I have thought that things will change.

Where these cases will be laid forgotten, perhaps even unresolved with the lack of hints.

I spent weeks on end, keeping my tracks short and erasing any leads that can lead towards me again.

I spent so, so long trying so desperately to hide anything resembling my crimes.

But alas... He found me.

It was the time where I had to dispose of those bodies. Although I had no heart to bury them under nature, I was not above treating them as though they were simply people.

Even in death, I wanted to make them feel like they look peaceful. Although, perhaps simply sewing their wounds left by my scissors was not something I can treat.

In the middle of the night, I was carrying the Himegimi outside of the abandoned houses I tend to with her retainer, Thoma. I had thought of letting her rest someplace else. Her attire has been sullied, and I needed to keep the two somewhere where no one can find them.

Corpses rot over time, and if it was possible, letting them turn to nothing in the likes of Tsurumi Island will be enough for my weary heart to rest.

With how adept I am of keeping my tracks hidden, I had thought no one would be able to tail on me. But alas, due to the missing cases I've caused, perhaps I wasn't expecting this to happen.

"I knew you'd be here, Kaedehara Kazuha."

I simply paused upon hearing his voice, my head craning back to see that it was Ayato. Despite how composed he looks, I can tell that the nights he spent trying to search for his beloved sibling and retainer wore him down.

His once flawless appearance was nothing but sullied, his attire feeling like its simply hanging off of him, and the way he staggered while looking at me without a shred of restrain is new. Raw for such a heir.

"And that body..." he murmured, his eyes glaring daggers when he found out who it was.

Perhaps it's her dress that makes her recognizable. Or the hair.

"... I thought I've erased everything that can lead back to me," I spoke, sighing as I placed Ayaka's body down. "What a shame. I was quite close to erasing any traces and signs of their whereabouts. It would be nice to only have them be marked as 'missing', not dead."

"So... You admit to it, then?" the heir asked, walking over with stride. "That you have done this, Kaedehara?"

I simply said nothing.

And I knew that was enough of a confirmation for him.

"I knew something was wrong with you," I heard him speak, which caught my attention. Turning my body to finally face him, I watched as he scoffed and continued, "After all, a man as serene as you often had the worst to hide."

"Oh? How curious. Why would you say that?"

I saw his lips curl to a smile.

"Why, I had someone tail after you," he answered, his tone sounding so blunt and his demeanor became more like he's simply 'teaching' me something. "Someone that is associated with the clan. I'm sure you know who it is."

... How uncouth.

"I see... And you confronted me now? For what?"

"A duel."

He unsheathed his blade, and raised it towards my direction.

"I do not usually participate in these, but I'd like to honor your tradition. If I win, you turn yourself in to the Tenryou Commission. Confess all of your crimes, and we shall call it even."

"... Very well."

I raised my own blade, as a sign to his own.

"I needn't state my own terms if I lose, as I can't let you get out alive. Now, let us settle this matter... To each of our graves."

Usually, such details cannot be recreated from interpretation alone.

However, this one was the few exceptions to it's inevitable fate due to it's popularity.

The legend had focused on keeping the existence and ties of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor up for the listener's interpretation. This scene, however, was directly associated to a case that had been tackled many years ago.

The case went as such: each resident of a town goes missing each week. No one knows when it happens, as the day is often random. The victims of these disappearances are also random, so no one could derive from it being a 'pattern'.

No matter how young or old one is, their gender, their living conditions, and even their past... When they least expect it, they simply vanish. Erased.

The only times where the victim was found, several eye-witnesses had different iterations. Some said that the bodies were buried, while others found it floating by riverbanks and the side of the sea.

But the most common— and widely known, of course— was that each victim were made to a doll.

Their limbs were nothing if not sewn with thread, cuts of various degrees being patched with thread of similar color to 'mask' it's oddity. Their eyes were closed, but those that were unfortunate to open it were only greeted with it being turned to the back of their heads.

In some victims, several pieces of their possession were taken. However, most kept theirs on their person, and were seen to not be tampered with.

No one knows what drove someone to this degree. No one can even comprehend such a fact that it was entirely possible.

But to someone who's mind was twisted to the point of no return... It was.

This case had a name, but every resident of Inazuma refused to speak of it. Each time one does, they were told of the legend behind this case.

They were told of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, and they were warned of one thing.

"Do not look at him or his betrothed. If you do, you're as good as dead."

...

It had been a year since our fight happened.

I remember the chaos that occurred back when I finally erased that man. Although it did left his body in an undesirable state, I still fixed and sew him up so that he didn't look as such.

Even in death, I wish to give the heir some form of dignity. That, in some way, I wish to give him his final respects.

After all, he had simply misunderstood my intentions. He didn't knew that I was out for one person from the very beginning.

The downfall of the Kamisato Clan was imminent at that point. I've seen many flee, and witnessed the tragedy befall on the Narukami Island. Many of the people I've met had simply ran off to seek refuge, the terror grasping and choking them like they were unable to think.

However, I remain clear. And I simply continued to do my work diligently.

I have been working on something... Special. And with one last snip of my bloodied scissors, it was now complete.

My final and life-long work, all laid across and now in my hands. The fabric I chose was rather difficult to sew. I should have known that human skin would be too hard, depending on where I retrieved it from.

Dying it in black, I wrapped the obi that had been sewn with the use of the Himegimi's locks, and retrieved the crest of the Kamisato Clan. Adorning it on my person, I viewed myself at the mirror to see my handiwork.

"Finally," I murmured, feeling an odd sensation in my chest as I wore the fruits of my labor. "It is now complete."

With the chaos guiding me and masking my presence, I fled to head by the mountain.

I knew where you were bound to go.

I knew of your crimes long before you knew me.

I didn't paid much attention if anyone saw me. I didn't care if blood simply poured from my attire and to the ground that I'm walking on. I could hardly give a damn if some realized of my crimes in that blasted estate.

I had my scissors with me, and I only wish to fulfill my last wish before I leave this cursed world.

You murdered my family, [Name].

You were the one who caused that fire all those years ago.

I remember those burns you gave me. I remember just how much of a coward you were, fleeing from the scene you caused yourself.

How could I lose everything? And how can you keep your family?

No. No, that mustn't happen. I must set this right.

As your 'lover', I'll make sure you understand what you did wrong.

The culprit of the legend was caught, at least by the end.

All of the townsfolk had banded over to help the detective figure out who had caused such a stir, and it was only because of one eye-witness that said everything. That simply told the truth of the man behind it all.

It was the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, the one who was gripped with envy, that caused such a massacre to occur.

When they found what became of the last victim, his 'lover', they became a doll of his own. After killing them, the legend proceeded to speak of how he had simply 'sown' their skin alongside his, making them his perfect beloved doll.

One of the iterations even mentioned that his unnamed lover was in a Shiromuku outfit, eyes gouged so they may "never look at another man". At least, from what the tale has concluded.

Because of the severity of his crime, the tailor was sent to be on his death row. When the detective tried to get information out of him, they found out that he has lost his mind.

He became a shell of the brilliant man they knew, laughing and speaking that he has finally fulfilled his desire.

Even when he was dragged onto the guillotine, that day was marked as the end of the massacre, and those who were alive spoke of the man's chilling laughter up until his head was cut off.

...

And that was the end of the "Crimson-Eyed Tailor" and his legend.

Or, more accurately, the history of the known "Dead Man's Heart" case, and how Kaedehara Kazuha murdered the one he "loved" for revenge.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

#💌 ;; message delivery #💌 ;; from: kaedehara kazuha #💌 ;; post: genshin impact #💌 ;; to: gen. neutral reader #genshin kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #genshin #genshin impact #yandere kaedehara kazuha #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere kaedehara kazuha x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere x reader #genshin impact kazuha #genshin kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader #yandere kazuha #genshin kamisato ayaka #genshin kamisato ayato #genshin thoma #genshin shikanoin heizou

[legacygirlingreen]

Strumming Hearts // Modern! Sebastian Sallow x MC

Authors note: another collaboration with @darch7995 , if y’all aren’t listening to her audios idk what all are doing! This is a modern, rocker Sebastian AU with lots of flirting, tension and happy ending I swear! I def might follow this up with a part 2 at some point. Lots of that 2014 tumblr era vibe going on! Also song is “new perspective by P!ATD

Part 2 of fic is here

Link to audio version(s) here!

Part 1; Part 2;

Love you all 💚

Word count: 6k

Warnings: flirting, teasing, mild angst, suggestive language, groping, nothing too intense

“Stupid friends, on a weekday no less, to the stupid club to see a stupid-“ she muttered into her drink as she leaned against the bar to herself as she stirred her vodka cranberry that Natty had thrust into her hands before she wandered off with the rest of their roommates to try and find the band members before the show.

MC hadn’t wanted to come. Not only had she never listened to this new band, that seemingly everyone around her was obsessed with, but she had finals to study for. On top of that, her usually level headed friends like Natsi, Poppy and Imelda seemingly couldn’t keep it together when it came to just 3 random guys roughly their own age with some instruments.

“Bad night?” A voice behind her said almost directly into her ear and she almost dropped her drink from shock.

Whipping around to see whatever asshole had gotten so close that she could feel his breath on her ear - a strong invasion of space in her mind despite being a necessity in the loud and packed club - she prepared the scowl in advance. As she did so she was confronted with a sight that made her question her desire to scold the man for getting too close.

Dark eyes that cut through her like a knife, however upon further investigation were not cold as she expected. They were warm, honey colored flecks near the center and very inviting despite how deep they ran. As if those dark eyes were swallowing her whole in fields of barley at sunset.

Dark hair to go with the dark eyes, perfectfully tousled as if he constantly had a hand running through the unruly locks. It fell around his head in a slightly shorter style than most of the males in the crowded room, but still maintained the rock and roll vibe of the majority of their peers. Towering over her in height and playful smile upon his full lips.

The one thing that shocked her the most was the endless supply of freckles dotting his extremely handsome face. Attractive enough that the words die upon her tongue, reducing her into a sputtering mess.

He was absolutely stunning. And based on his smirk, he knew it.

What had he asked her again? Oh yeah, if she was having a bad night.

“I suppose. This is just not how I wanted to spend my evening” she said with an eye roll as he smiled down at her.

“Don’t like live music?” He asked her curiously.

“I never said that.” She retorted, taking a long sip of the drink in front of her, as his eyebrow raised.

“So you are here for the show-“ he started but she stopped him with fervent shakes of her head.

“I’m here because my friends promised they’d stop asking me to go out for at least a month if I agreed to come tonight. I have finals coming up and it seemed like the better trade off for a month of peace and quiet” she explained with a shrug as she dug in her jacket pocket, desperately searching for her packet of cigarettes.

“Interesting…” he said without elaborating as he watched her fish a cigarette out of her pocket before attempting to find the lighter.

She seemingly came up empty, frustrated as she went to shove it back in her pocket.

“Need a light?” He asked, holding up a lighter, giving it a small shake as she nodded her head. Just before she could grab it from his hand he smirked.

“Might I bum a cig?” He asked.

“I suppose that’s fair,” she said, fishing another out of her jacket pocket as the sleeves slipped down her arms, exposing her dress straps and shoulders. Handing the cigarette into his outstretched hands she looked to him expectantly for the lighter he promised. Upon receiving the cigarette he joyfully passed off his lighter as his dark eyes scanned the recently revealed skin and the exposed top of her dress, making no attempt to hide the way he lingered on her breasts.

She placed it between her lips, lifting the small device up and striking it as she lit the end of the cig before taking a drag. As she went to hand his lighter back she caught some words written on it, and even in the dim lighting of the club she could still make it out.

If you wanna fuck, smile when you give me back the lighter.

Her eyes immediately went wide as he chuckled at her panicked reaction as she handed the lighter back.

“I mostly keep it for the shock factor at this point” he explained as he lit his own cigarette and re-pocketed the lighter as she decided the warmth of the club was not worth keeping a jacket on if he was already attempting to stare. So MC slipped her jacket off her arms and tossed it on the bar's counter.

“You don’t seem like the type to complain if it gets you laid though” she retorted after taking another drag and he smiled.

“Would anyone?” He asked and she took another sip of her drink, realizing he didn’t have a drink in his hand. Nearing the end of her vodka cran, he flagged down the bartender, allowing the curiosity of the character beside her. Not many people would stick around to hang with a girl who seemed as annoyed as her right now.

“Considering most men I’ve picked up in bars aren’t exactly as skilled as they claim, I would say that lighter seems like a walking red flag” she explained with a small grin and instead of getting upset he laughed.

“Perhaps I keep it around as a warning so smart girls like you know to stay away…” he told her and she let out a small laugh at his antics, finally successful in flagging down the bartender.

“What can I get you?” The man asked her.

“Can I get a refill on my vodka cran and a shot of tequila … along with whatever the gentleman wants. And I’ll start a tab” she explained, handing him her card before turning to the man beside her, gesturing for him to order.

Sebastian had been very surprised at her buying him a drink, as usually the girls he met gave him pretty smiles until he got them whatever fruity drink they desired. Instead this very grumpy girl, who he determined didn’t have a clue he was in the band her friends came to see, offered to buy him a drink.

“Uh… Jack and Coke and I guess a shot of tequila if the lady is having one” he told the man who nodded before turning away to grab their drinks.

“Thanks for the drinks. I can’t tell you the last time a lady picked up the tab for me. Pops is probably rolling in his grave for breaking propriety but I know for a fact he wasn’t always a gentleman either” he said with a genuine and intrigued smile.

“I won’t tell him if you don’t… I tend to find myself liking to do the opposite of what everyone else does” she said with a shrug.

“Just to be different out of principle or just a naturally inclined rebel?” He asked as the man set down the drinks in front of them.

“Depends on the circumstances I suppose” she said, lifting the tequila shot, gesturing for him to do the same. “What do you want to toast to?” She asked him as she set her cigarette into the tray on the bar.

“How about a night of being rebels?” He asked her and she nodded well enough, lifting the shot glass and taking a large lick of the salt on the rim as he did the same, the both of them clinking the glasses before tossing their heads back before reaching for the like wedge to bite.

Sebastian enjoyed the way the shot went down his throat and she seemingly did too as she smiled, tossing the lime in the glass and pushing it back.

“Now back to this question… I’m interested in these different circumstances?”

“Like I said it’s unique each time… growing up I tended to be a bit eccentric without thinking on it, so that I would say is natural born rebellion… but sometimes I just like to do the opposite of what everyone else is for the shock factor, much like your lighter” she explained and he nodded, understanding it quite well as he too got in much trouble as a kid and enjoyed the over the top nature for the humor it provided.

“I get that. What kind of things do you differ from the norm just to be different then?” He asked while watching as she took a sip of her drink, and he strategically leaned in closer to her body to hear her better, but also feel the warmth of her skin through his jeans.

“Well I came tonight to see a band I have intentionally been avoiding, despite them probably being the type of music I’d enjoy simply because my flatmates never shut up about them, simply because it’s funnier at this point to double down” she explained with a small smirk playing along her matte painted lips before she reached into the ash tray to retrieve the cigarette, taking a drag. So she didn’t know who he was.

“That’s interesting… I understand the sentiment there quite well… can I tell you a secret” he asked with a mischievous grin and she nodded. He leaned in closer as if this secret was one that was well guarded.

“I have never seen Star Wars and at this point continue to avoid it simply so people freak out when I tell them” he said before leaning back, and just as he predicted she was mouth agape at his confession.

“But that’s, that’s different… I mean come on, it’s Star Wars…” She said, trying to put it together and he smiled gesturing to her reaction and she rolled her eyes as he reached up to her hand, carefully removing the lit cigarette from her grasp with a raised brow and she nodded that he could take a drag as he had long finished the one she had given him while waiting for drinks. He did so, following it up with a sip of his drink and passing the cigarette back to her hand as he noticed the lipstick around the rim.

“Because at this point it’s more fun to watch those reactions like your own than actually watching the movie, I guarantee” he explained and she shook her head.

“You’d be wrong. You don’t even know what you’re missing. It’s like an amazing world with fun characters and epic stories and laser swords. And a whole army of rebels” she explained and the more she spoke the more he watched her cool girl image disappear as a very wholesome, internal nerdy girl came forward and the reaction made his heart beat hard. Extremely unexpected but it was equally adorable.

“I didn’t realize we had such an adamant Star Wars defender in the audience tonight… perhaps I’d be willing to rethink my position on the space opera saga..” he proposed as she took a sip of a drink to cool her warming cheeks.

“Oh yeah, what would change your mind?” She asked, she gestured with her drink as she set it back down .

“You give the band tonight an open mind…” he said with a grin and while he had expected her to go along with it but instead her face fell.

“Not you too.” She said with a groan, reaching up to take another drag before finishing off the cigarette.

“What’s so wrong with the band you’ve never even listened to yourself?” He tried to reason.

“It’s all that they talk about. All day. Every day. Cooking dinner. Doing laundry. Taking a shower. Never can escape it. I don’t get much free time between my classes, work and studying. What little bit I do have has been invaded. I’m sick of it” she explained with another eye roll shifting away from him.

“I suppose I get your frustration… You can still go into it with an open mind-“ he levied and she shook her head.

“Nope. I’m committed to the stubborn act at this point.” She retorted, making him laugh. She has conviction he’d give her that.

“Well if you hate this band so much, what kind of music do you actually like Miss Rebel to society who loves Star Wars?” He asked.

“I don’t know…” she said looking back into her drink a smirk playing on her lips as she denied him the information, knowing he likely would do as most men and roast her taste in music.

“You don’t know what music you like?” Sebastian asked jokingly.

“No, I know that. I just assume you’ll do that thing most men at bars do, where they roast my taste in music and say they had an earth shattering experience listening to the dark side of the moon for the first time” she explained with an eye roll and he barked out a laugh.

“That’s a fair critique, but I don’t plan on shitting on your taste in music. It’s a personal preference. Try me” he told her, downing the rest of his drink.

“Fine. I like stuff like arctic monkeys, cigarettes after sex, panic at the disco… that sort of vibe” she explained while taking another sip before running a palm over her opposite shoulder trying to brush away the goosebumps. As she did so he noticed several tattoos littering her arms, one in particular catching his eye.

“Wow that’s a really cool tattoo? What is it?” He asked changing the subject as he raised a hand up to stroke the exposed skin. The artistry was phenomenal, showcasing vivid shading despite only being black and white. His thumb rubbed along her shoulder as he examined it with a small smile playing on his lips. She looked over her shoulder and saw the one he was referring to as she had a few lining her body.

“Oh that’s one I drew. I really love mythology. it is my take on the Mares of Diomedes” she explained and he was astounded by not only her artistry but also her love of mythology, one he related to.

Slipping off his jacket, he showed the girl the healed hyper realistic ink depicting the marble statue of Apollo that laid on the inside of his bicep on the arm closest to his heart. Famous twin of Artemis and a tattoo he carried for his own sister.

As he did so, she ran her hands over the exposed skin, not only noticing the ink but also seeing the trail of freckles lead down to his tanned arms. As she did so, she trailed her sharp dark nails along his skin, making him shiver before she let go.

“Apollo, very nice…” she said in a low voice with a smile.

“What were you saying, sorry I tend to get distracted kind of easily… oh yeah those are all wonderful bands. As for tonight… I still think you should keep an open mind especially if you like those bands…” he said cryptically as he looked around. He knew likely he’d have to slip backstage but the girl didn’t know that.

“Hmm” she thought for a moment as she finished her drink, setting it on the counter and grabbing her coat. “I’ll bear it in mind. I should probably find my flatmates. They abandoned me when we got here trying to see if they could meet the guys in the band before the show” she explained and the notion made him chuckle that her friends had failed and she had succeeded where they hadn’t.

“Of course” he said with a smile, knowing this was a perfect time to slip off.

“I would be… more inclined to have an open mind if you stuck around… it’s actually been pretty fun talking to you so far…” she said with a smirk falling off her lips and she slid in close and he absolutely adored her confidence in her movements and words. She looked up at him through her lashes, accentuated by the thick Smokey makeup around her eyes.

He was almost annoyed when she wrapped a hand around his arm once again at the bicep, not because he didn’t want her touch, but because he knew that she likely wouldn’t respond well to his necessary rejection of watching the show together.

Sliding close to put his lips near her ear he wrapped his other hand around her waist to pull her closer.

“As much as I would love that I unfortunately can’t…” he explained trying to muster some sort of an explanation that would lead to him being able to get her number after the show still.

“I just thought…” she said somewhat dejected but still seemingly trying to maintain a level head.

“I really am sorry… I’ve enjoyed the company Love, trust me, but-“ he tried to explain as she remained hooked around the waist by his hand. Shockingly she hadn’t pushed him off.

“Bash! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Anne. He dropped the girl as his twin jumped into his arms without warning, pressing a kiss to his cheek in the loving fashion he was accustomed to. He cringed realizing how this would look, but before he could explain the girl had already taken a step back looking mortified.

“You slipped away for water a while ago! What took so long?” Anne innocently asked and the girls face fell so fast.

“I’m sorry I held you up, excuse me.” She said, pushing past him, shoving him with her shoulder as she did so and Sebastian groaned, removing Anne.

“Fuck.” He said as his sister pulled him back towards backstage.

“Were you actually - Sebastian you never talk to fans” she said and he awkwardly chuckled.

“She actually seems to hate our band on principle so I don’t think she’s a fan” he said and his twin raised a brow and he shook his head.

“Long story but she piqued my interest. I suppose now she probably thinks I’m a cheating git who was taking drinks and flirting with her while having a girlfriend” he explained with an annoyed sigh and Anne looked at him apologetically.

“Seb, I’m sorry. I can try and find her and explain before the set if you’d like-“ she tried to reason.

“Don’t worry about it Annie. I’m sure I’d have found a way to screw it up anyways…” he said, as they flashed a badge to security before stepping into the room with the rest of his friends and bandmates.

“Dude where the fuck did you go?” Garreth asked with an annoyed sigh.

“Seb was talking to a girl,” Anne said.

“I was until someone ran along and screwed it up” he said trying to bite back the realization as he moved to dramatically flop on the couch next to Ominis.

“That’s not like you… must’ve been a real smoke show” Garreth responded with a laugh and he nodded to agree.

“I mean, yeah, she was hot, but-“ Sebastian explained when Ominis cut in.

“She must’ve been more than a pretty face to peak your interest” his blind friend levied and he nodded.

“She was really funny, and said she goes to Uni so smart too… I wish I could’ve gotten her number.” He said with an annoyed groan, reaching for his guitar which was propped up near the couch.

“Did you get her name? Could say something during the set” Ominis suggested.

“I didn’t get that either,” he explained.

“Damn. You can always point her out to Annie -“ Garreth reasoned and he shook his head.

“It’s not a huge deal. I doubt she even will stay for the full thing. She told me she’s only here because her friends forced her. She actually seemingly hates us on principle and at this point is committed to being stubborn just for the humor of it” he explained with a chuckle.

“Seems like you’re made for each other ‘Mr I refuse to watch Star Wars even when it’s my twins favorite movie” Anne said with a laugh and the others joined in.

“Oh well” he said trying to ignore the semi sad feeling lingering in his stomach at the thought.

“Well mate, if anything changes during the set go for it. You know I never mind, besides you’re the front man anyway. It’s always your call” Garreth said, standing to grab his bass.

“Actually…. Is it cool if I make a small change to the lineup…” he said, a brilliant idea in mind and a room full of his favorite people eager to hear his plan.

—————————————————-

“Where did you go?” Poppy asked cheerfully as she rejoined her friends. It wasn’t long after she separated from the mysterious man that she’d been chatting with that she ran into Imelda, who escorted her back to the rest of the group. Natty and Poppy had been saving a spot right at the front of the club waiting for the band to start and had sent Imelda to go find her.

“I stayed where you left me basically the whole time” she explained with an annoyed scowl still on her face.

“I know you’re not happy about being here but I thought once you got out maybe you’d have a good tim-“ Natty started and she let out the frustration of the situation prior slip out.

“I actually was having a great time talking to some guy. I bought him some drinks, we were having a good conversation, turns out he’s got a similar tattoo and understands my need to be stubborn. He’s never even seen Star Wars simply out of principle” she said with a dramatic sigh as her friends smiled at her.

“Well that’s great” Imelda said looking around. “Where is lover boy then?” She asked and MC shook her head.

“I think the girl that jumped into his arms and kissed his cheek would know better than I am where he is now” she explained as the others looked at her sadly.

“Oi what an arse. Point him out if you see him. I would love to have a few words…” Imelda said, and she knew it wasn’t that deep. The lighter should’ve been a red flag after all…

“It’s alright Melda. Don’t worry about it. He’s not worth the time. We are here for you guys to see your band and then I’m off to bed when we get home” she said as Poppy offered her a comforting smile.

“Was he at least cute?” Natty asked as the other two glared at her; prompting the girl to defend herself by asking “what? It’s just a question?”

“Unfortunately yes. Very sexy… tall, dark and handsome incarnate…” she said, plucking another cigarette out of her pocket as Poppy looked around the room.

“Why don’t we get you another drink if you hold our spots up here. Cheer you up some. Especially since you’ve attempted to be a decent sport tonight despite that asshole” the girl said and she would’ve rejected it, but a drink did sound nice right about now.

“That would actually be lovely Poppy, I’ve got a tab open if you want something-“

“Don’t worry it’s on us, come on Natty we will be quick” Poppy said grabbing their other flatmate, leaving her with Imelda to hold their spots right in the front of the stage.

“I stand by what I said, I’ll deck him if you need me to” Imelda said and she laughed, grabbing her friend into a droopy hug, pressing a kiss to the girls cheek.

“You’re the sweetest Melda” she said playfully as her friend intentionally dropped her arm and wiped her cheek with a sarcastic eye roll. Imelda was the tomboy of their group, coming out to the clubs in a simple tank top and jeans, minimal makeup and usually the protective one when it came to any of their flatmates and boys.

“Yeah, yeah” she said with a small smile before looking around the room, and MC couldn’t tell if it was protectively trying to keep an eye out for the mysterious man who had hurt her friend or to keep an eye on their other roommates, but she didn’t question Imelda’s surveying.

“You all manage to sneak backstage in my absence?” She asked Imelda who laughed it off.

“No but they sure tried and I had to talk them down. There’s always after I suppose. But I promise to wrangle them in a tad in case you’re desperate to avoid mystery man. You haven’t seen him since?” She asked once again looking around the room and MC shook her head as Poppy and Natty rejoined them.

“One drink for the most beautiful girl in the room” Poppy said with a smile, as she passed her a refill on her drink.

“Thanks Sweets, and no Imelda I haven’t. I promise to point him out if I do” she said just as someone came on stage, and her eardrums almost burst as the 3 girls next to her got excited when he asked if they were ready for the performance.

As the lights went dark she tried to just mentally disassociate, the sooner this was over the faster she could get into bed. And the little spark in her that had desired to give the band a chance died when the mystery man asked her to go in with an open mind.

A few more shouts of excitement from her friends and various people in the audience as she sipped her drink before the lights came on and she felt like a deer trapped in headlights.

Fuck.

“Aren’t they all just so dreamy?” Poppy said with a starstruck smile and her face immediately soured. Looking confused, Poppy went to ask what was wrong when she looked back up to the man from earlier, who happened to be standing in the center of the stage with a guitar.

Before she could lean into her friend to shout in her ear he looked at her, mostly given she was directly in front of the stage. MC rolled her eyes at him as he looked down at her from behind the mic stand.

“MC he’s looking at you!” Natty said with a cheerful exclamation.

Instead of backing down Sebastian walked slightly forward as he kept his gaze trained on her and her friends seemingly lost their minds over the action. Adding insult to injury he had the gall to wink at her, very obviously.

“Oh my stars” Poppy said lovestruck as she watched the front man of the band openly flirting with her friend in front of the crowded room.

In response MC only narrowed her eyes at the man and leaned towards Imelda so she could speak to her before saying “there’s the guy from earlier. Go get him Melda” she said mischievously before pointing to him and rolling her eyes and turning to leave.

“Wait, what?!” The girl said, surprised that not only had their uninterested flatmate met the lead singer but that he was the man from before as she grabbed MC’s shoulder preventing her from leaving. Before she could ask further questions she was cut off due to Sebastian’s announcement.

“Wow what a very good looking crowd we have here tonight… dare I say the best looking we’ve seen” he said while continuing to stare in her direction and she made a genuine snarl at the man who only seemed egged on by her reluctance. In the time it had occurred Imelda must’ve informed their other roommates he was the one who entertained MC earlier.

“MC…” Poppy said, tapping her shoulder and getting her attention before she fully left to go stand outside.

“What is it Sweets?” She asked, her mood officially and completely ruined.

Curse the stupid undercroft.

“You should stay, show him you can have a good time even with what happened -“ Natty tried to reason.

MC did realize she had promised them she would stay the whole time.

“I promised you guys I’d stay the whole time” she said, chugging the rest of her drink as they started the opening notes of a song and her friends gave her a comforting group hug. “You’re allowed to enjoy it you know” she said with a smile and they turned back, joyfully enjoying the first few songs.

When he finally started singing she grew increasingly more frustrated.

Of course the very attractive, very funny, and cheater of a guy she ran into had to be in the band. Even more annoyingly, he was incredibly talented.

She tried her best to tune them out, focusing on her friends and their silly dances and every now and again leaning over to press a kiss to one of their cheeks or twirl them under her arm. She was here for them. Not for some idiot in a band.

“Before we start the next song I want to dedicate this last minute addition to our setlist to the very beautiful girl at the bar earlier who borrowed my lighter, and just letting you know, it’s offer still stands” Sebastian said as he stepped on the board on the floor that changed the sound of his guitar slightly before starting the first few notes.

Her heart absolutely sunk when she realized not only had he dedicated a song to her, but she knew this song.

It was her favorite.

She fully anticipated he was gearing up to butcher her favorite song, effectively ruining it for eternity but when he started singing she could’ve died on the spot.

“I feel the salty waves come in…” he sang as Imelda turned to her with her mouth hanging open.

“He just dedicated that to you?! But that’s your- wait what did he offer earlier?” Imelda asked as the other two leaned in and she looked up at him over their heads.

“That if I wanted to fuck, I should smile when I have his lighter back” she said through gritted teeth and they all melted, having seemingly forgot he flirted when he had a girlfriend, or at the very least a very comfortable groupie he knew by name.

The band expertly continued to perform her favorite song and as Sebastian sang her favorite lines, he leaned over the stage directly over her with a grin almost antagonizing her with the line

“Can we fast forward to go down on me” he said and at the end of the line and the kick off of the chorus he winked at her, tossing a pick before grabbing a new one and continuing.

“MC!” Her friends shouted and Sebastian watched with a smile as her friends fawned over her. He could still see her angered expression but in her eyes showed something counter to her body language. She seemed impressed. He could work with impressed.

He continued to perform his heart out, knowing he wanted to end the set with a song for the girl as she continued to stare from the front.

She felt very frustrated that as the song went on, she seemingly forgot what had happened. A small part of her screamed to just accept the attention and then go home and put it to rest but she felt guilty soaking up the flirtations of a man who had a girlfriend - who was likely backstage no less.

Sebastian saw the war in her eyes every time he looked back and as he got to the bridge he crossed back until he was in front of her, kneeling with his guitar until he was more level with the girl and her friends.

Her eyes widened as he did so, and he moved in as close as possible with the guitar in his lap, making sure that he could stare directly into her eyes before he leaned forward, the rest of his bandmates continuing music despite the absence of lyrics being sung a part she new would’ve been the bridge. Instead she realized he was beckoning her closer, and her friends pushed her forward until he met her in the middle.

When she did so he used his other hand to cover the mic hooked to the side of his face and leaned into her face saying “sorry my sister interrupted us earlier, hope this makes up for that” he said before kissing her cheek as she could hear her friends losing their minds screaming and slapping at her back.

Her face burned with all the attention so much that she almost missed him pressing something into her hand before he stood and started to sing the bridge to her and her alone…

Stop there, and let me correct it

He sang and she realized he was trying to use the song to convey that he felt sorry for running off…

I wanna live a life from a new perspective

He also explained that everything had been a misunderstanding with his sister, not girlfriend…

You come along because I love your face

And the way his eyes roamed made her feel as if the song was coming to life and she was the girl in the song…

As Sebastian continued he couldn’t help but smile down at her, seeing in her expression how she slowly pieced together both his intention as well as the mix up, and he almost stopped singing when he saw her opening the note he’d passed her.

“So catch me up on getting out of here” he sang the final line with a smile as he looked down and saw her finally reading the note.

He went to thank the crowd and start their final song as she finally got to reading the note. Pulling it closer to see in the dim lights she unwrapped the crudely written note on a bar napkin that said:

Beautiful rebel,

Thanks for the drinks and I’d love to buy the next round sometime. I’m also open to finally watching the silly space movies, and what better way to do so than with someone who loves them so much, if you’re down…

Sebastian Sallow

013194960558

PS keep the lighter since I know you’ve lost yours, however feel free to return it whenever you’d like, hopefully with a smile ;)

When she finished reading the note she realized he had wrapped the napkin around the lighter from earlier. Taking out her phone she added his number into her contacts before carefully folding it up and pocketing both the note and the lighter.

Opening a new message she typed a quick text before enjoying their last song for the night with her friends, happily nodding her head along with the song and blushing madly when he winked at her one last time before he exited the stage.

When Sebastian finally got his phone out of the dressing room he saw a new message from an unknown number and he couldn’t help but smile as he read the text.

UNKNOWN : That was quite clever Mr. Brown eyes with the Apollo tattoo, or should I say Sebatian… I will say the choice of god makes a tad bit more sense now that I remember Apollo and Artemis were twins… I’d love to show you the wonderful world of Star Wars sometime if you’re providing drinks; which leaves the important question: When are rockstars free? ~ your rebel in crime MC

He quickly flipped up his calendar, checking his schedule before replying.

Her phone buzzed as her friends walked home from the bar, still chattering about her luck with the lead of their newest favorite band. Opening the text she saw the message.

Sebastian: How about tomorrow at 4? My place?

She smirked reading the text and quickly shooting a reply and continuing her walk home feeling much lighter and now excited for the following day with her mystery rockstar.

Sounds perfect. I have a lighter to return :)

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow/reader #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #fluff #hogwarts legacy fandom #anne sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy garreth #gareth weasley #hogwarts legacy ominis #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts au

[setsugekka]

『atarashī 』 ; 07

❝ injudicious ❞ | mlist  ｡

student!hongjoong x fem!reader, husband!yeosang x fem!reader — drama, dark romance, mystery, heavy sexual content [6k wc] ch cws: smut, a lot of lying, public sex, jealousy, becoming aware of the potential consequences of our actions, bff!seonghwa does not deserve this shit!

A month comes and goes in a flash, with no help from the husband meant to aid in putting the pieces of your marriage back together.

Yeosang's job ramps up again. Normal, small breaks that allow for him to make time to come home even briefly now forgone entirely and made to jet set from old work sites to the new without so much as a breath of air inside of your marital home. It makes you sad, you miss him. Dinner for one is so miserable in an empty home made much too large to accommodate only one.

A problem that's made easy to forget, however, by the smoothing of Hongjoong's soft palms across your skin, lips that insist and devour you each and every time. How simple it is to moan his name and forget the others.

When you're not with Hongjoong, you want to be, but you want to go off of him too. A unique push and pull of complicated feelings; when you're away from him the thoughts creep back in, about how you shouldn't be doing this, about how you have to stop. 

But all it takes to quell that is one perfectly landed touch from the man in question, and then you're unraveling for him all over again, like every time before.

The sex would be one thing, if that was always how it remained. Over time, nights are spent in bed talking about the future, about the past—about a different life and a different world if things were just that. Hongjoong often idly drawing shapes into your bare flesh as you reminisce about your family, when they were alive, when Aurelia was busy and booming and not meant to be your responsibility entirely.

His lips ghost over your shoulder from behind as he listens to you speak about all of the aspirations you used to have. Don't have any longer. Can't have now.

"Why don't you still paint?" he asks one night, lights of his apartment dim and the gentle flicker of the television doing the majority of the work to illuminate the space. "You know all the right people, you could really make something of it. Of yourself."

You shrug slightly. "Gave it up a long time ago."

"For him?"

Turning just a bit, you glance back at Hongjoong from over your shoulder. Watch him press a light kiss to your shoulder again, pleading silently to not have to answer that question out loud.

So, you don't.

"I'm obsessed with you," Hongjoong whispers into you, much later in the evening and firmly settled between your legs. Just where you want him. "Don't think I could ever go off of you."

Not sure I could ever go off of you, either.

"We shouldn't be here."

Your words are hushed, under your breath and only meant for the ears that reside just beside you. A hand slips between your thighs to grab at the skin there—no other point to it besides simply reminding you that he is there.

As if you could forget.

Numerous patrons walk by your booth and you watch each and every one of them carefully, eyes lingering as if anticipating the proverbial hammer to drop with the next one that intends on making their way by. The truth is that nobody is paying attention to you—not especially, at least—and it's only when one of Hongjoong's ill-timed touches jars a sound from you that you may catch the glance of another who does not know either of you, nor has any intention of doing so.

It's something like horny teenagers who can't keep their hands to themselves; no private place to feel the skin of the other beneath their fingers and thus, public places will have to do.

Except you very much have private places to go to, and this idea being distinctly Hongjoong's for one reason or another.

"Relax," he says as you clasp a hand around his wrist and push his hand out from under your skirt. "No one is paying attention to us. No one cares."

"Still." Hongjoong nuzzles his face into your neck immediately thereafter, cuts the words off that had only just been in your throat. The breath of him tickles, and you shrink down with a smile to remove the sensitive skin of your neck from the availability of his mouth. "We're not far from the Akademiya. I have colleagues that could come here."

"Ooh," Hongjoong chides, sarcastic. "What if they see us."

Finally he settles in beside you, hands to himself but still mostly turned towards you. Boxing you in, an arm draped up over the back of the booth that the both of you sit in.

It feels too open, too on display for you, however. You have so much more to lose from being spotted here with him, like this, Hongjoong has nothing. You're not familiar with the reprimanding that a student of the Akademiya faces as a result of fraternizing with one of the staff—much less whatever grouping of people you happen to fall under—but you can't imagine it's anything close to the scrutiny that you threaten to find.

"Why did you want to come out here?"

Hongjoong smiles slightly, tongues over his teeth like he finds the question to be testing him in some way. A fight looming, but not really, not handled any differently than anything else the two of you engage in.

He leans in again, face close to yours and lips just beside your ear. "Can't I want to take you out?"

"Are we dating now?" you ask, equally sarcastic as him before. "I'm married, you know."

"So I've heard." Hongjoong's voice drops to something deeper, more enticing. The fact of the matter doesn't bother him, never has, though it's not something that you appreciate being brought up all that frequently if you're honest. For obvious reasons.

"So, are you going to get up and go home to your husband then? Or are you going to finish your drink and come home with me so I can put my hands on every inch of your body?"

Lips find your neck, and you allow yourself to melt into the feeling for a brief enough moment that you lose sight of your surroundings. Less aware, for a second pretending that what it is that you're doing and who you are doing it with is acceptable, and reveling just a bit in the ability to enjoy it outside of the confines of a closed bedroom door.

You don't wish to be with Hongjoong, nor do you wish to leave your husband. You believe that he in turn has no desire to have you for himself either. It's complicated in many ways, but relatively simple in that: you're not leaving Yeosang, nor does Hongjoong wish for you to.

But you've not yet reached a place where you can quit him, either.

Fingertips on your skin that feel just as hot to the touch as they did the first time, drunk on how dizzying it is to be wanted like this by another person. To not have been grown tired of, to still be new and exciting to someone. 

When Hongjoong's hand comes up to your face—turns your head to face his and with such ease brings the reluctance to engage with him in a public place comes crashing down with the firm press of his lips into yours—you forget everything else around you. The lounge goes quiet, and all of the other people in the room disappear.

Perhaps only to you, however; and your presence to others? Still very much seen.

Rushing down the sidewalk on a windy Saturday afternoon, you turn to glance at your surroundings for a brief moment—the sound of a car’s alarm firing off just within close proximity of you—attempting to gain your bearings once again in this side of the greater city area just outside of the Akademiya lines.

Walls of apartment buildings and other such shopping and eating sectioned off into unspoken districts around these parts; the hipster parts filled with thrift shops and aesthetically run down cafes, the luxury parts often frequented by the students whose parents have paid their whole way, the environmental interest types—none too fond of the other groups and their willingness to partake in leathers and furs.

There are offshoots of each that settle within, and Hongjoong sits somewhere on the axis of hipster-luxury. A man with money, though you're not entirely sure about the how or why of that. Maybe you should ask. You don't know if you're allowed to ask.

Hongjoong spends much of your time together asking about you, finding out about you, enthralled by everything it is that comes together and creates you. Sometimes it even feels as if he knows just a tiny bit more than he lets on, but asks anyway—questions that couldn't possibly come from nowhere, needing some form of place to manifest from. A starting point.

Not that it matters to you, not that any of that matters to you now.

With your bag clutched to your side, you stop in front of the apartment building that you've grown so accustomed to by this point. The shoddy door in the front that's seen its fair share of graffiti art over the years and one of the six window panels at the front broken—you take a step forward to make your entrance.

"Hey!"

But your heart immediately jumps into your throat at the sound. You know the voice, know the word coming from that voice so well that it's etched into your memory for the rest of your life. Absolutely no way you could be mistaken, and so instead you put all of your effort into calming your nerves enough to be able to handle what it is that is soon to come, because there's no getting out of it. This is your reality now.

You turn, smile a big grin and feign shock. A different kind of shock than the one that you're actually experiencing; happiness, surprise, delight. Not horror, terror, displeasure.

Seonghwa is with someone, a friend of his you've met a couple of times out on the town. Mingi. Another tall guy, he seems to like collecting them in his off time. They're both dressed casually so not with any particular sort of business in mind, and instead of just casually passing by, your best friend settles in close—slings an arm over your shoulders and around your neck—pulls you in close like he's displaying friendship, not actually partaking in it.

"Look who we found," he says, something sly about his voice but you brush it off as you projecting your own misdoings and the knowledge of that onto him. Guilty people always think everyone else is up to no good too. "What are you doing on this side of town?"

"I could ask the same of you," you reply, groaning into the grip still. Your eyes calmly fall to the other guy. "Hey Mingi, long time."

"Nice seeing you, as always."

"We were just on our way to grab something to drink," Seonghwa says, holding you firmer in his grasp. "You should come with us since we've already caught you out here."

He finally lets you loose then and you stumble for a second before straightening up and flattening your coat with your palms. You flash him a disgruntled look which he ignores in favor of a happy smile, but awaits your reply to the offer all the same.

"Ah, I can't, I have somewhere I have to be—"

"Somewhere that can't wait twenty minutes while we sit down for a drink?"

It's only now that Seonghwa's pleasant and playful disposition falls away, though you're not entirely sure if anyone else would be able to discern the fact other than you. A man so good at playing the fence when it comes to this sort of delivery, his eyes sit onto you as if expectant, waiting for you to not only make a decision, but the correct decision.

He's not really asking you to come with them, he's informing you that you are, and part of that is because deep down he has a sneaking suspicion that he has caught you in the act of being up to no good.

And so, you have to relent.

"Yeah, it can wait twenty minutes," you finally say, glancing at Mingi again. "But I want you to know it's because I adore your lovely friend here, and it has nothing to do with a desire to spend time around you."

Seonghwa smiles, slow and calculated. "It's noted."

You send the message along to Hongjoong shortly after you are intercepted by the other two men. The cafe that you are taken to is only a stone's throw away from his apartment building anyway, thus, it's not the end of the world that you have to put off the debauchery that is meant to take place up a few flights of stairs. 

A part of you expects some kind of snappy, displeased response from your lover as a result of the mishap, but instead, he says nothing in reply.

Probably busy working, not a big deal. The three of you settle into a small table in the corner by the window and listen carefully to Mingi explain about how he actually really likes this side of town, despite the reputation that it has. Frankly, you can see the appeal, but you've always been something of the art-adjacent kind anyway.

Seonghwa slips away to the counter when your drinks are ready, and the bell to the front door rings only a second later. With your back turned towards the barista and as a result—the action—you aren't able to catch much of the goings on behind you, but what you can see Mingi's eyes lingering on someone in a way that strongly makes you believe it is not Seonghwa.

"God, he is beautiful."

You reel a little bit, because your thoughts immediately go to Seonghwa still. He's the only guy you know that's behind you, so who else could the man be referring to, and your confused and slightly disgusted visage must tell the tale rather vividly, because Mingi nods in an effort to get you to look over your other shoulder. You do, slowly, and you might be able to find the humor in the whole thing if the circumstances were just a little bit different.

"If they got more guys like him living around these parts then I'm signing a new lease today."

Standing slightly hunched over the counter—leather jacket and brown slicked back hair—you watch Hongjoong greet the barista and most probably order something, you wouldn't know, because you feel a little bit too dizzy to be focusing on the details all that much.

Seonghwa sits back at the table then, all three drinks in hand. Hongjoong looks around the place, then glances down towards you for just a second as he brings himself off of the bar and begins to make his way towards the back of the establishment.

"They didn't really have any of those little sweet drinks you like so—"

"I'm gonna run to the restroom," you say, cutting Seonghwa off and almost with a little bit too much urgency to your tone. He stops the sentence, slowly looks to you as you're already pulling yourself up from your seat. "Been out all day, haven't had a chance to go."

Neither he nor Mingi have a chance to respond before you're off and down the very same walkway.

The loud bang of the bathroom stall door hitting the wall is almost so much so that you worry it will raise suspicion outside, but can't be bothered with it enough to halt Hongjoong's mouth on your neck and hands hurriedly digging at the button sitting at the front of your jeans. He presses you against the wall, shuts and locks the door behind the two of you as if it'll make any sort of difference should anyone find their way inside of the main door, and has your pants pulled down around your thighs without giving you even a second of time to protest. As if you would.

Hongjoong turns you around, face towards the cold wall and hands up against it—fingers of one hand prying your disjointed panties away and to the side, the other fisting himself out of his own jeans. It's so quick, so easy, so intoxicating. Like everything else is about being with him.

"We could get caught," you say, a groan taking your voice at the feeling of him sliding into you with a couple of quick, shallow drives. 

When he settles into you fully buried, snaps his hips forward a few more times for good measure, the concern dies out in your throat and between your legs.

"And what if we do?"

Hongjoong asks the question lazily, like he knows that you don't have an answer for it, don't care. That must be true, because the thought of it falls away entirely to instead be fully encompassed by the feeling of him dragging inside of you with quick succession. One hand of his digs into your hips, pulling you back against him and holding your body firm in place to take him, the other sliding up to cover your mouth and the subsequent whimpers and moans that are already fast to fall from it.

"Sorry," you say, settling back into your seat at the table. "Did I miss anything?"

"We were starting to wonder if you fell in," Mingi jokes.

You laugh at the comment, body still trembling lightly from the goings on in the bathroom only moments before. A bit after the fact, you catch Mingi's eyes lingering on someone who makes their way passing along behind you, and you already know precisely who it is.

Seonghwa's eyes are set solely on you, however.

"God," the other says, still watching Hongjoong move behind you. "I might do utterly ridiculous things just to have a shot at that guy."

You know, you don't need to look behind you to figure it out, but you do so anyways to play along—glancing over your shoulder to find Hongjoong perched at the counter again and chewing on a toothpick like he's in some old western film. He must be waiting for a drink or something—you didn't really have a chance to ask.

"Yeah, I suppose I can see the appeal."

Laughable.

"You're both married," Seonghwa reminds. Firmly, too. Mingi shrugs, rolls his eyes like this other guy is just no fun at all.

"If things were different. Isn't your husband gone all of the time? You've never thought about it? Met anyone in passing that had you thinking maybe just once?"

That causes you to glance towards Seonghwa more than the other man, and he is frowning just as expected. This is meant to be a fun, light outing. It might be worth it to take some of the heat off of Mingi and partake in a little joking on the matter yourself. Besides, can Seonghwa even blame you? After everything that you've been through with Yeosang as of lately? Everything that he knows?

So, you take a slow sip of your drink finally, chuckle at the end of it before you go to speak. "I mean...I guess I have. The whole lonely housewife trope comes from somewhere after all, doesn't it?"

Mingi laughs, Seonghwa doesn't.

"Sometimes you think about it like...it's something that I could do just for me, that no one else needs to know about. Like a spin class, or tennis."

"No, having an affair is nothing like taking a spin class, or tennis." Seonghwa's looking fully at you now, and none pleased at all by the words that you are saying.

There's no humor in this to him, and you can't help but wonder why that is. Regardless, his judgment sits heavy in your chest and results in the swallowing down of any further comedy you might have expelled on the matter. Mingi catches the hint as well—eyes meeting your briefly to share a moment of feeling reprimanded before settling once again in silence and forgoing the conversation topic altogether.

"Someone always gets hurt," Seonghwa adds, a few beats of silence after the rest of the conversation has quieted down. "Everyone always thinks they have it under control, that it will come and go and it'll just be some memory that you jot down in your journal a few years down the line like it's a scene in a movie that you always wanted to live out but never could."

Someone always gets hurt.

You hear the door bell ring again, but you can't turn to check if it's Hongjoong making his exit or another random patron entering. The air is so thick with tension now, and with the words sitting so sternly at the front of you mind, you think of the man you are meant to see straight away after this excursion just that much more.

Can I go off of him? Will it ever be that simple?

The way that Hongjoong touches you, tends to you, hears you and makes you feel whole in a way that Yeosang doesn't, can't right now. You think about it with yourself in regards to the sex—what he has to offer you in the physical—but if you allow yourself to be just a little bit more honest with yourself, is that true? Is that the whole story about the affair that you're so willingly carrying out with this student of the Akademiya?

You like Hongjoong because he is addicted to you, obsessed with you in every way that makes you who and what you are. He can never get enough of you, probably couldn't go off of you if he tried.

And maybe you've let your obsession with him go just a bit too far, too. A need to be with him, to feel him, to bask in the way that he desires you so openly and endlessly. A delusional pursuit to think yourself any better off, or with any upper hand in comparison.

Mingi changes the subject, starts talking about a couple of the shops that he wants to stop into while they're on this side of town.

You nod along as if you're there, but really, you're already three floors up and locking the door of apartment 3B.

A little more than an hour after your outing with Seonghwa and Mingi, you find yourself right back in the very place you very much expected yourself to be.

This time doesn't feel as good, however.

Sitting at the edge of Hongjoong's bed, you watch him as he idly begins to disrobe in front of you; jacket first, then the lazy unbuckling of the belt that sits looped around his pants. All the while, his eyes remain on you, but you have a hard time meeting them with your own on account of the prior conversation that still weighs heavily on your mind.

Seonghwa's words sitting razor sharp and ringing in your ears.

There's a part of you that wants nothing more than for there to be no more of this. No more affair, no more Hongjoong in your life in the way that he has maneuvered. To say that it's over, be able to proudly and confidently say the words just as you have so many times before—always dying out with the simplest of touches from him, or the enticing prospect of what else you could be missing should you manage to do so.

God, you need him so badly though. How have you let it come down to this?

The excitement of anticipation paired with the already knowing; whether it's inside of this very apartment and in between these very sheets or across the street in the bathroom of a restaurant while your friends sit and wait none the wiser. Thoughts that make it feel almost impossible to ever put an end to this.

"You know," you finally say, voice quiet and even slightly humored in tone. Little force behind it at all. "We could end this now and nobody would get hurt. Go back to the way things were before we ever started this at all. Pretend this never happened."

Your eyes raise to find his, checking to see his response. An eyebrow raises on his face, small perk of the corner of his lips as he slips his shirt up and over his head and makes his way across the bedroom towards you.

"If we ended this now," he says, falling to the floor between your knees and hands finding the button of your jeans for the second time today. "Then I would get hurt."

Someone always gets hurt.

But the carefree admission is somewhat of a shock to you. Never has there ever been anything that could be taken as a romantic involvement between the two of you. It's always just sex—and sure, there is time spent outside of that—the before and after the fact where no one is in any particular hurry to escape the arms of the other.

Perhaps you have not been entirely honest with yourself in regards to what that entails to you either.

Hongjoong busies himself working your pants down your legs and as he does, you allow for your head to drop back idly to stare at the water-stained ceiling above.

"Is there no way that this comes to an end with no casualties to show for it?"

He chuckles under his breath, coming back up to smooth his palms under your blouse and pull the light fabric of that up and over your head. Stilling just in front of your face after discarding it to the floor, Hongjoong sits only inches away from your mouth—looks down at your lips briefly before finding your eyes again with the same intensity that he always seems to harbor for you.

"Not necessarily. There's a chance that we'll grow tired of each other naturally. The joys of a new experience must wear off eventually, after all. Nothing feels exciting and unexplored forever—" he quiets, kisses you deeply, passionately in the very way that always has you melting into him. Giving into him. "Not even us."

Mouth trailing down against your neck and nipping the skin carefully between his teeth, fingers make their way to nestle between your legs, so perfectly firm in just the way that he knows you like to be touched. Your eyes roll to the back of your head before closing, reveling in it all over again, and he doesn't even need to push you back against the mattress to have you finding yourself there on your own all the same.

Pants discarded at the edge of the bed, Hongjoong climbs up slowly to settle between your legs, hand fitted just where it had been before. Two fingers pressed in that have you groaning against the lips that have already made their way to kiss and bite at yours.

"I want nothing more—" you start, forced to stop by the pointed curl of his fingers inside of you in just the right way. Gasping out and digging fingernails into the bare flesh of his shoulders and back from where you lie beneath him. "Than to get tired of you. To go off of you entirely."

Hongjoong kisses you again, this time more urgency behind it, nearly sucking the air from your lungs and like it may very well be the last time. The thought of even just that awakens an ache in your chest that you've not ever wanted to grant any level of consideration to: that this is more than what it was ever intended to be.

Because once that happens, all bets are off. 

"You're free to go any time," Hongjoong says in a whisper against your mouth, though the appropriately timed press of his hips up against your own and the subsequent glide of himself inside of you once more serves as evidence enough that you've not yet managed to find a place where that's a realistic possibility. "No one is keeping you here against your will. If you don't want to see me anymore, you don't have to."

Smooth, easy drives into you—slower, more time taken in between each one that has your head swimming perhaps even more than any of the other times before. You dig your fingers into his skin like there's a chance if you don't hold onto him tightly, he might not remain there with you at all.

And you simply cannot take the chance of that happening any longer.

Hongjoong's face settles into the crook of your neck, hot breath against the shell of your ear as you curve your back up and chest against his. The friction feels white hot, one of his hands tightly gripped at your hip and the other moved upward to dig into your hair.

It feels different this time, because it feels like he's making love to you instead of fucking you.

In the aftermath of your lovemaking, Hongjoong sits against the headboard of his bed with phone in hand and a handful of sketches strewn out along the sheets. Standing in the hall of his apartment that combines the bedroom and his bathroom, you remain there and watch him in silence as he appears to once again—like so many other times before—be lost in the work that will most likely get him so far. So long as he is able to get that one chance.

He deserves it.

"I heard the class that you did that garment for is doing the first showing next week," you say, smile painted across your lips as you lean against the warped wood. "Are you pleased with the outcome?"

Hongjoong looks over at you, eyes trailing your bare legs that end only at the hem of your barely oversized shirt in a way that implies you may not be walking out of here without going another round in bed with him. Not that you mind. Eventually he stops, however, and looks towards you with full attention on the subject at hand.

"Yeah, I did a fitting with her a couple of days ago and it looked good. Took some pictures and what have you but I'll probably stop by the day of to make sure everything goes according to plan and there aren't any huge malfunctions that will need my tender love and care to deal with."

"Oh," you say aloud, and before you're able to pull it back. You know this feeling well, though not in relation to him, and not having been felt in such a long time either. Jealousy. Nasty, ugly, and with no such place that it belongs here at all. So, you make the conscious decision to try to reel it back. Be mature about this, because what other option do you have? "Good. That's good then."

Ever perceptive, Hongjoong picks up on the tonality of that oh, and much to your displeasure. "What's that? Are you jealous? Weren't you just trying to end things with me only an hour ago and now you're livid at the thought of me putting my hands on another woman?"

His voice is calm, almost playful—as if amused by the fact of the matter at hand. You wish you felt much of the same. Instead, you cross the room and cozy yourself up in bed with him, head and hand against his chest to listen to his heartbeat and feel the warmth of his skin beneath you.

Because none of that matters—this is here, and now. This is what matters.

"It's not like that," you say at first, though perhaps realizing the absurdity of the lie, you pull back on it only slightly. "Well, it's a little bit like that, I guess."

"You're married, you know."

You have no room to be feeling any kind of way about this right now.

"I do know."

Hongjoong changes positions slightly then, curls himself up and in a way that he can gaze down at you as your head slides down to rest in his lap. Fingers toying at your ear, lightly tracing the outer edge in such a way that makes you shiver.

"So then what if I were?" he asks, curious.

"I don't know," is all you can muster up at a moment’s notice, but more than anything else, you want to end the conversation as quickly as possible. You pull up and away from him, clear your throat and look down at the side of the bed for your purse which is seemingly nowhere to be found. "Do we have to talk about that?"

He smiles, softly replies. "No, we don't."

The thought of losing him, seeing him in the arms or hands of another person makes you anxious, sick to your stomach almost. A sort of fight or flight response in your body that kicks up without a moment’s notice. There's little to nothing you can do to avoid such a thing ever happening, and even still, what is your plan? To engage in this affair forever? Unrealistic. To be the one with the upper hand someday who gets to call it off when it finally suits you and you alone? Similarly so.

Palms flattening over your face, you rub harshly and sigh—hopes of expelling all of these thoughts that plague you and the negative feelings that sit festering along with them.

How ill it makes one, the obsessive need to be the favorite.

"I was thinking," you say suddenly, though Hongjoong's expression changes little and remains calm all throughout the turbulence of your emotions thus far. "About the contacts list that I have for you. Give me a couple of days and I can probably have it cleaned up and ready to go out for you. I can even make some calls in your stead to put in a good word ahead of time if that would help."

A small, slow curl of his lips, Hongjoong's head cocks to the side just as calmly before leaning forward and closing the distance between the two of you. One hand cupping at the curve of your jaw, he bothers little with pulling you towards him and instead only leans forward to push you back against the mattress once again—kisses you unrushed and deliberate in his motions, just like all of the other times.

One knee hiked up just enough for him to fit himself between, Hongjoong reaches over to the nightstand just beside you, flicks the switch so that the room dims just a tad bit further, and then all over again and just as you had wanted; all of the attention is on you once more.

"What do you do on the days that we don't meet?"

A fascinating inquiry, Hongjoong drops the whisper of words into your mouth with a gentle simplicity as he once again carves out space for himself inside of your body. This question is easy though, because you think of it with a nightmarish frequency.

Your nails dig into his back once again, feeling the divots made from the previous encounter still holding their mark there. A roll of his hips and you're whimpering under your breath, bitten back slightly, even though you revel in the feeling of having won.

"Hate myself."

a/n: we gotta get seonghwa out of there besties...also, kinda feeling like he knows but doesn't know know 🤨 like he knows something is up but can't put his finger on it. ALSO! her getting jealous about hongjoong with another girl 😭😭🤭🤭🤣🤣🙄 when the obsession is making you ILL AND CWAYZEE.

if you got thoughts hit me up in the ask box let's discuss hehe 💗 hope you enjoyed!

#hongjoong smut #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yeosang x y/n #yeosang x you #yeosang imagines #yeosang scenarios #ateez smut #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

[charlotterhea]

I'm thinking about leaving the English Fandom

At least as a writer.

I've just finished posting the translation of one of my longest fics and... Boy, the feedback is depressing. I've planned to start translating the next long thing but I seriously lack any motivation to do so. Yk, translating is exhausting! I already wrote that story once, I went through it several times, and now I am supposed to engage with it yet again only for that sad outcome of verbal engagement I get in return?!

There is a lot I dislike about the German fandom and the way the German archive works, but the comments... the comments!

And currently, ISEM gets translated into Russian and I sometimes take a look at those comments as well and honestly, almost every poorly translated Russian comment excites me more than the majority of the English ones I get.

Why the heck is that? What is wrong with you English folk that you are so notoriously unable to write some decent comments nowadays? I know this has been different! There were authors writing oneshots for the writer of every 1000. comment they got on a story! 1000!!! I didn't even reach 600 for a 70-chapter-long story! WTF?!

I know, I know, I sound very ungrateful right now, but I'm done with being humble and grateful for a bunch of emojis that get thrown my way. I sit at my desk for hours and hours on end, pour my heart onto empty pages, and bring characters and bad-ass-long plots to life - resulting in stories longer than a couple of the HP books combined! -, and a considerable part of what I get in return is some emojis and a generic thank you?! No! I refuse to be grateful for that any longer! There are enough sympathetic posts around trying to encourage readers to at least leave an emoji or a key smash as a comment and yet I have this story that got over 1300 kudos and has more than 500 subscribers and not even the last fucking chapter, not even the finale gets me more than ten comments!

'Oh, but maybe there will be more soon!' you might say but I assure you: No. Most likely there won't because y'all started treating AO3 like fucking Instagram and the likelihood of somebody commenting on a story older than three of four days is LOW! If I don't churn out story after story after chapter after story I just get no feedback at all anymore although I already wrote all that stuff that is right there waiting to be fangirled about!

And the worst thing is: Those old stories are fangirled about! But not in the comments. When did you begin excluding authors? When did you begin seeing us as some bunch of untouchables instead of the dude next door who is just as insane about the same two to ten blorbos as you are? When did you begin to squeal about stories far away from the authors instead of with them in the comments? Y'all are acting like old stories are lava when it comes to comments! The only way I see that old stuff actually still gets read is by the daily kudo mail.

Really, I wish AO3 would turn off kudos. Kudos are such an easy way out of commenting, and all the 'Let me give kudos for each chapter!' posts are a testament to that. Honestly? No! You don't deserve to give kudos for every chapter. You don't deserve to feel like you've sufficiently done your duty by pressing a fucking button! You deserve to be ashamed of reading amazingly crafted stories for fucking free and not even having the decency to cobble some lousy sentences together when you're done consuming!

Oh, you are shy? Well, Brenda, guess what! I was shy about posting that story as well and yet I did so you had a good time after work! Suck it up! Nobody knows who you are anyway! Fuck, log out and write a guest comment if you really have to!

You don't have time? Well, you bloody well did have time to read the 6k+ words I churned out, so stop whinging about the five minutes it takes to write three sentences of gratitude!

You don't know what to say? Honey, you just read 6k+ words and there is not a single thing on your mind to say about it?! There was not a single line you could copy and say something like 'I laughed out loud at that!' or 'You had me in tears about this!' or 'I couldn't believe he fucking said that!'? Then why are you even reading the story?!

Stop those lame excuses and start commenting on fics! Start showing some fucking gratitude for the work writers do just for you to consume it like a bloody Netflix series! We don't get a single penny for the hours we spend in front of a screen! We cannot earn money with fanfiction! We cannot open commissions to get our rent paid! All we get are comments and most of them are a fucking shame considering the amount of work they are supposed to show appreciation for!

So, if in 2024 you still silently consume stories or keep chicken out of writing a couple of cohesive sentences by throwing some heart emojis in the writer's vague direction you deserve to be robbed of the kudos button and to be ashamed of yourself because you're actively supporting the death of fandoms and with that one of the few free sources of joy we still have. One of the few spaces no corporation uses to squeeze some money or data out of us and I cannot believe that this still has to be spelled out. Fandom is a group project and nobody likes the idiots sitting by, contributing nothing, and still getting all of the benefits.

Phew. I needed to get that out of the system. And now I'll go and contemplate translating another story. But after posting this I probably won't get comments anymore anyway because it's always the wrong people who feel addressed by shit like this.

Well, whatever...

#me ranting #fanfiction #writing #comments

[obae-me]

Hello! I really hope this doesn’t sound too presumptuous but I wanted to ask, do you know when your requests may open up again? I got this angsty whump fic idea in my head that I wanted to share with you cause you’ve said you’re a fan of whump but because requests are closed I didn’t wanna accidentally send in a request and make you feel obligated to write something as a result. Again I hope this doesn’t sound too rude and major apologies if it does! Have a wonderful day!

Oh, no worries at all! That didn't sound rude in the slightest and I'm always happy to answer questions!

And honestly I'm not sure? I love requests but the last time I did them it stressed me out majorly trying to get to as many as I could and make them as long as I could (to be fair it was my first time really taking requests and I had about over 50 of them to do and I pushed myself to do 4k-6k words per request because I'm absolutely insane). So if I did open them again I'd be taking on a lot less and probably making the overall content a lot less. Because I also have a few long series going on like Tainted Reflections, A Taste of His Own Medicine, and Upside Down (and things like Love Letters from the Past, The Demons Inside, and even Beneath Still Waters that have been put on hiatus that I'd love to finish if I had time)...

That's not even including the concepts and ideas I have for projects I'd love to eventually get to...

And the Trigun Stampede fic I'm writing...

And the original novel I'm trying to start...

And the Discord I'm trying to create...

And my livestreams I want to get into...

Ahem... anyways I guess what I'm trying to say is if enough people wanted requests open, and I took them in small enough chunks, and if people were patient and understanding that I got a lot going on, I might be willing to open requests again!

#not writing #asks #anon

[blublublujk]

young blood (2)

part 1 part 2 part 3

word count: 6k

genre: established/growing relationship

pairings: vampy koo x vampy reader x vampy tae x taekook

summary:

Teaching your Newborn vampire lover how to control his thirst.

warnings: jungkook is like their sweet baby (he's spoiled ok >.<). major taekook warning pls do not read if that bothers you. adult content, swearing/harsh language, sexuality, sexual content (noona kink, tears, bondage/blindfold, stripping, handjob, blowjob, cock slapping, cum shots, fingering, cum eating, biting (fangs), feeding (blood invloved), ass eating, spanking??, unprotected sex/anal, multiple orgasms, denied orgasms, overstimulation) i hope i got everything, im tired SORRY

a.n: does anyone still remember me? T—T how has everyone been??? IM SORRY I TOOK SO LONG. i have been going through so many things, it’s one thing after another. i feel a bit better now but it’s been crazy lately, i feel very exhausted </3 ik i said i was done with this but clearly not… i hope you all can enjoy this in the meantime. i didnt mean to starve you all along jungkook >.< i missed everyone and i miss being active. i’ll try and be back soon. i think this will be the last time i touch these characters so it’s bittersweet. i’ll probably do drabbles if requested here and there but im done with this LOL thank you to the sweet people who check up on me. im very thankful, see you soon 🥺

ALSO much thank you to my sweet friend who helped beta read, i love you smmm honey <333

**re-edited and republished on 09/03/23

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

--

Jungkook's thirst worsened over time. 

Typically, a newborn’s thirst decreases as they age within their new lifestyle. It’s an agonizing pain that affects the throat. At first, it feels like a slight ache, almost as if stuck with a stubborn cold, then it transforms into a flame. It’s like shards of glass are being forced down the throat, unable to inhale anything besides its toxic fumes. A burning flame that could only be controlled by the consumption of blood. 

When blood enters the mouth of a newborn, it’s undeniably addicting and nearly impossible to ever stop wanting more. When blood enters the mouth, that excruciating pain they once had felt, turns into a less painful burn, the blood soothing their throat as if it were ice until it becomes bearable, until they feel absolutely spent. To vampires, blood acts as a drug. A drug, they’ll become dependent on for the rest of their sorry, immortal lives. When one is a newborn this all seems like the most difficult mission of your life. The pain is different for everyone. Some deal with this pain longer than others, for some it improves within the estimated years, but as for those that never come out of that cycle, well… they don't survive long enough to tell the tale.

It hurts seeing your own kind unable to come out of that horror. You had been there too, you all had. The thirst seems never ending until it isn’t. You learn to adapt and minimize it. Some escape, but those that don’t get punished. Punished for something nearly impossible to control. It’s sad. That’s when you made it your mission, along Taehyung, to help newborns come out of that cycle. 

There was supposed to be no favoritism, that’s what you and Taehyung had promised each other, years ago when the agreement had first started. But somewhere in between then and now, Jungkook had become your most prized possession.  

But Jungkook’s thirst only worsened over time.

The more he fed, the more he wanted. Jungkook couldn’t go a week without feeding. Not only did it start to scare you, but everyone started to notice that his feeding habits weren't normal. 

When you and Taehyung first found Jungkook, he was weak. Thin. But always kind-eyed. 

Jungkook was just too easy. 

“Turn me.” He pleaded, soft eyed. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever you ask of me. Turn me. Please…” 

“You’re so stupid for a human, Kookie. Think of what you’re asking of me.” Shit, had you had the choice back then, you would’ve done so much more with your life. Maybe you would’ve gone to college like all the rest of your human friends, however life took a different course. Jungkook was given the choice, you never had. “You could have it all, Jungkookie.” 

Jungkook shook his head. Stupid, stupid human. His heart racing, nevertheless determined for the chnage. His smell was addictive enough, iching to sink your fangs and pierce into the vein that pounced from his neck, pulsing with sweet blood. 

“No.” The human stood firm. “I-I want more. Puh-please. I’m sure of this.” 

“So so stupid.” Taehyung echoed, stepping back, eyes a crimson red. He practically tasted Jungkook’s blood in his mouth from the overwhelming smell of fresh blood pumping within him. He, too, wanted a taste but he was also giving Jungkook the choice. 

“Please.” Jungkook begged, one last time. And how could you say no to those soft, doe-eyes? The pretty human was practically begging for it, his scent teasing your tastebuds. 

You looked back once more at Taehyung, and he nodded, giving you the final call and a form of approval. 

So you gave in. 

—

“Jungkook hasn’t improved, Taehyung. His thirst… it’s gotten worse.”

Taehyung looked up from his phone to catch a glance of your anxious pacing from across the room, then looked back down. “You spoil him too much. That’s why.”

You scoffed, stopping in your tracks. “And you don’t? Don’t act like a fucking saint. All the man has to do is say please and you fold, too.”

Taehyung sighed, shrugging your comment off. “You just have to try harder.” 

“I’m fucking trying, Taehyung. Obviously. He’s not improving as fast as the other newborns. I’m scared of what will happen to him if—”

Taehyung waved his hand. “Stop thinking like that. He’ll be fine. We just have to try a different approach.” 

You blinked, resting your hands above your waist. “What are you suggesting?” 

“Break him. Test his limits. We spoil him too much. Once he sees how much he can actually handle, feeding will become easier.” 

You didn’t say much then, but a realization had settled within you that night. Taehyung was right, it was going to take more than words to get through Jungkook, you had to break him. 

—

Two days later, you decided to test his suggestion, alone. 

“Have you ever been tied up, Jungkook-ah?” You asked the pretty boy patiently sitting at the very edge of your bed. His dark hair had grown out a lot longer than he usually maintained it, yet his face was still bright, as if expecting a treat for being himself. Always so spoiled. 

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, curious about the intent behind your question. “Nuh-uh.”

You towered over him, the younger manspread a spot for you to stand in with an oddly chilling look in his sharp eyes sprinkled with hints of dark red. He couldn’t be hungry, could he? Who were you kidding, he was always hungry. You pushed his hair back gently, his eyes fluttering at the sensation. “Do you trust Noona, Jungkook-ah?”

The boy softly nods his head, his rough hands coming up to caress behind your thighs. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Tucking a piece of hair behind his ear, you whispered, “I want to try something, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that baby? Mm? You’ll be a good boy, no?”

Jungkook didn’t hesitate in submitting. If there was anyone he listened to, it was you and Taehyung. He knew how to behave and he understood very well the consequences to disobeying. However, you didn’t exactly think he knew what that quite meant, at least not yet and to what extent.

“Yes, Noona. I’ll be good.” Jungkook answered, while you ran your fingers through his hair. He was always down for a good time, or so that’s what he imagined was coming his way. “I’ll be so good for you.”

With a smile on your face, you slowly pushed him backwards, signaling him to push himself further up onto the bed. “Take your clothes off baby. I’ll watch you from here.” 

You stepped off, eyes never leaving him, giving him enough space. 

“Everything?” His lips formed into a small pout, he surely didn’t like doing things on his own. He liked the way you touched him, scratch that, loved. Your skin always so soft against his. 

“Everything.” You confirmed, crossing your arms.

Jungkook took his time. He pulled his shirt off over his head making sure to maintain eye contact. Teasingly, his hand caressed his abs as they went down his body, the smirk on his face did not go unnoticed. He always knew how to put on a show. Next came his pants, he slowly tugged them down revealing his confined hard-on then tossed them to the side. He hesitated when it came down to taking his boxers off. 

“Can’t you do this part?” He pouted, attempting to change the current situation.

God knows you wanted to, but instead you shook your head. “Be good, baby.”

Though his shoulders dropped in disappointment, he accepted his fate. His hands finally landed on the waistband pulling his briefs off, revealing himself little by little until his hardened member sprang out, smacking against his abdomen. Already dripping of precum. A taste sure was tempting. 

Time froze a little bit as you took in the sight in front of you, carefully placing himself at your mercy and for your pleasure. His eyes blinked, curious of what came next. Truthfully, you wanted to crawl onto the bed and give him the best blowjob of his life, but you knew that would teach him nothing. That and Taehyung would be disappointed in both of you. You knew better or at least should.

Well, here goes nothing.

“We will start now. I want you to tell me if it gets too much, okay? Are you okay with the color system? Green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means to completely stop what it is we are doing. Is that okay with you?” You carefully explained. 

Jungkook nodded once more. 

“No, use your words.”

“I understand Noona, I trust you.” 

And trust he did. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the blindfold you placed against his eyes, tightening the silky cloth around his head. 

“Is this okay?” 

The young man looked around for a moment, but saw nothing. He felt much better feeling the presence of your thumb swiping his cheek, an indication he wasn’t alone.

“This is okay.” He murmured, placing his hand on top of yours. “I can’t see a thing.” 

“Okay good. I’ll need your hands now.” 

Immediately, Jungkook set his hands out, giving in completely. He was being honest about never being tied-up before, he could never trust anyone enough to allow that sort of power and control over him. He was a competitive person after all and he, himself, liked having control of everything happening around him, but you knew you were just an exception. 

Grabbing his hands, one by one, you tied both to the headboard, giving him enough room to be able to tug on the rope without hurting himself when it all became too intense, but not enough to actually escape. With one last tug, you made sure he couldn’t get away too easily. Jungkook was stronger than most newborns after all. You couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen to him if he spiraled out of control. 

“S’ this okay?” You asked him softly, stepping off to look at your handy work. 

He nodded, his head tilting as if trying to get a better feel about his surroundings with all his senses hightened. But it all went dark, now every touch and sound was magnified by ten. It was interesting how a person adapted to the world around them regardless of the circumstances. 

“Words, Jungkook-ah.” Once more warning him of the importance of using his words in bed. 

“I’m okay.” He breathed out. His hands tugged lightly on the rope, testing the strength of the knots himself. It turned him on to know you could do anything you’d like to him and he would have to take anything you gave him. He was completely dazed by the rough material around his wrists secretly liking how it felt against his tender skin. He ached to be inside you. To feel inside you. The suspense was nearly driving him insane. 

Jungkook patiently waited as you made your next move. He felt his dick start to make a mess all over his stomach. He used to feel so embarrassed about the fact that he was easily turned on, but with a woman like you, he couldn’t blame himself. He always wanted you. 

He also didn’t know how to explain his attraction to Taehyung. Jungkook had never thought about a man in that way before and maybe it was because he never had the experience of what it was like to be completely ruined by one. Now, he was more than sure, he liked men. But he didn’t want just any man, Taehyung was his strongest desire. 

Jungkook attempted to suppress the moan stuck in his throat when he felt you tighten your fist around his length, pumping him slowly. Your breath tickled against his ear as you leaned up to kiss the mole on his neck.

“Noona will make you feel so good, Jungkookie. But only after you learn to control yourself. Don’t you want to be good, baby?” With every whisper, he felt himself already crumbling. Your hand pumped him faster using his precum as lube. Jungkook didn’t hold back the moan this time. 

“Ngh— y-yes, I want to be so good. I-I’ll be good. More Noona, more.” You could see him fighting the restraints. His chest started rising with every stroke, he was already starting to lose himself within the pleasure.

But you did the complete opposite. Dropping his cock with no mercy, he felt his stomach caving in as you completely stopped all movements. 

Jungkook shook his head, tugging at the constraints. His wrists started to become flush and swollen the more he pulled. “No, please. Puh-please.”

Leaning in, you kissed the pout that had formed on his lips. The second he felt your lips touch his, he didn’t plan to let go. Immediately, his tongue swiped your bottom lip, and you allowed him access. Big mistake. Without much warning, he shoved his tongue inside, establishing dominance over yours frantically. Attempting to pull back only earned you a light tug to your lip which you responded with a faint moan as you fisted his hair. Even tied, Jungkook made it quite obvious what he was after. He wanted more and was making it known. If given the chance he would have taken you right there and then. 

But you managed to pull away with a bite to his lip and a small shove to his chest, while you both attempted to catch your breath. 

It was hard not to lose yourself within the process of what was supposed to be “his punishment”. It started to feel a lot like yours too. Maybe you had also grown spoiled. How could you not? Jungkook always received you so well, and the more he took the more you wanted to give him. 

Jungkook blew out a deep breath, laying his head against the headboard. His dick was painfully hard, weighing against his glistening abdomen. His dark hair started sticking to the sweat piling on his forehead. He looked so pretty, so vulnerable. And all yours.

He was silently suffering, but his agonizing thoughts were incredibly loud. 

Giving him no time to adjust, you wrapped your mouth around the tip of his cock, licking against the slit painfully slow. He always liked when you did that.

Jungkook cursed, feeling you force his dick down your throat. Though he was used to the sight by now, he so desperately wished he could be looking at that view now. You always looked the best with dick in your mouth. “Ughhh, j-just like that. I wish I c-could see how you look right now.”

“Maybe later.” Jungkook seemed satisfied with that answer, raising his hips carefully to meet your mouth. You hummed quietly around his member, sinking your head deeper as you hollowed your cheeks for a greater effect. Jungkook grunted and so suddenly shoved himself further into your throat causing you to gag around him, taken by surprise. You pulled off immediately, watching him curse at himself for losing control.

“No, no, no. Fuck, I’m sorry. Come back, please.” Jungkook begged, but it made no difference. He’d burn the stupid cloth around his eyes and ties around his wrists if he could by now and show you how truly sorry he felt. Make it up to you, if only he could. 

However you didn't budge. 

With a slap to his leaking member, you pulled yourself off the bed, watching him curl and hiss at the impact. Jungkook nearly went feral, feeling you go.

“Please!” He cried out. Now he was really struggling, nearly thrusting up in the air for any sort of attention. If Jungkook thought you would go easy on him because you favored him, he felt completely stupid now. He was absolutely helpless. 

“No.” That one simple word crushed him. He felt he could cry, he was already making a mess all over himself. He was thirsty. He was in pain. He felt so dirty. He needed something, anything.

Jungkook audibly swallowed. “O-okay, please j-just touch me.” He begged, his arms stopped fighting. The more he pulled the more the ropes tightened around his wrists, he started to become sore, weak. He felt tired.

Jungkook couldn’t see a thing you were doing to him nor could he go out of the way to pleasure himself. He had to rely solely on your next move, but even that was tough when you wouldn’t give him what he desperately lusted for. Did you not want to touch him anymore? 

This time you complied, feeling upset about the frown that had set on his face. You wrapped your hand once more around his length, spitting on his swollen crown for some relief, gripping his cock tighter as you jerked your wrist. Using both hands, you applied more pressure on his tip, he immediately responded thrusting into your fists the best he could. 

“Yes, yes, yes, like that. Thank you.” Jungkook’s voice was whiny, sucking in his breath with every stroke. His back arching at the sensation of your fingertips digging into his sticky tip. God, he was going insane. Was he already going to come? “I-I’m–”

“You wanna come, baby?” You asked very sweetly, watching him fall apart in your hands. 

“Mm...” Jungkook barely hummed, his head falling back. He was starting to feel faint. “P-Please, let me come.”

Though it was too soon for your liking, you couldn’t keep him too long without an orgasm. That is like another personal hell to a vampire. It’s simply cruel. “Go ahead, baby.” 

Maybe it was the fact that he was painfully turned on or that he really couldn’t last any longer that made him burst within that same second. Jungkook made such a pretty mess, his sperm dripped all over his blushing stomach, making a shiny milky mess around your fingers until you pumped the very last drop out. 

You let his cock drop once more, bringing your fingers near his mouth. He already knew what to do. He leaned into your hand, moaning at the taste as he lapped his tongue around your fingers, sucking them until they were completely clean.

“What a good boy, Jungkook-ah.” Though faint, he broke into a lazy smile and had those sweet eyes not been shielded, you could imagine the sparkle in them as they got praised. Stroking his sweaty hair back into place, Jungkook sighed, feeling his thirst die down, but only by a little bit. 

That was the thing about Jungkook, no matter how much you gave him, he could always take more. He needed more. This wouldn’t be enough to calm him, this was just a temporary solution. Jungkook was still painfully hard and extremely thirsty.

Pulling away for a minute, you took time to discard your own clothes. You watched as Jungkook’s chest raised up and down as he waited, becoming impatient by the second. Once you were completely bare, you hopped onto his thighs, adjusting yourself just above the mess between his legs.

He immediately buried his face into your neck biting very cautiously, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to feed off you, but he knows it would only go worse for him. He was not allowed to feed off you unless given audible permission, no matter how thirsty he was nor how badly he craved it, which all was often.

With a light tug to his hair, he popped off your neck. “M’ so hungry, Noona.” 

“I’m feeding you now. Patience.” You assured him, but Jungkook wasn’t really up for reassurance anymore. He wanted more and he’d do anything to get it. 

“No. I can’t wait anymore. I need to feed.” Jungkook rasped, feeling his throat sting every swallow. “It h-hurts.”

Gripping his chin, you spoke to him harshly. “I don’t think you understand what’s happening here, Jungkook. You don’t get to feed every time you want, no matter how much you beg. You must learn to control your thirst. I’ve seen newborns cursed with a thirst like yours in the past. None live to tell the story. They kill people like you, Jungkook-ah. I can’t have that be you.” 

Jungkook felt his chest go heavy, his forehead flew up against yours, his nose pecking yours. “No, no, that won’t be me. I can control myself. You believe me, right?” 

He kissed your lips, desperate for you to understand, to have mercy on him.

“I do baby, I do.” Your voice immediately softened, hands caressing his face very tenderly. “Can’t you just listen to me? I promise to feed you. I’m only trying to help you. You understand me, right? We have to build your tolerance.”

Jungkook nodded, almost in a panic state. “Yes. Help me, Noona. Please, I don’t want them to take me from you. I’m so scared. Please…” 

He was cut off by another weight added to the bed, one you hadn’t noticed yourself, you smelled him before you saw him. Taehyung was quick to bury his face against the younger man’s neck, pecking it softly. His presence was so sudden, but it was welcomed. 

“Nothing will ever happen to you, Jungkook-ah. I would never let anyone take you. You don’t have to be scared.” He spoke with much affection resting against his nape. 

Taehyung had nearly torn the door open when he made his way inside, and Jungkook felt he could cry. He understood very well he had two lovers who would never let a single soul hurt him. No one could touch him. He was so loved, he felt it. He didn’t shy away from Taehyung’s kisses either, but instead welcomed them by tilting his neck for more. 

“Hyung-ie… h-help me.” Voice nearly breaking. 

Taehyung looked over at you and you immediately received the signal. You hopped off Jungkook’s thighs and sat beside him, caressing his messy curls back, kissing his tender cheek. “Taehyung will help you now baby. Is this still okay?”

Jungkook felt tears sticking to the cloth. He hadn’t even realized he was crying and he was too overwhelmed with emotion to even care. He was so hungry. “G-Green. Green. Please.” 

Taehyung pounced into action, completely removing his clothes off as quickly as possible before placing himself between Jungkook’s thighs, caressing his inner flesh to calm him. 

“Hyung, will make the pain go away, Jungkook-ah. Focus on me, baby.” Taehyung promised as he began to kiss the deprived young man with gentleness, feeling his teary face lean against his. He kissed him almost as if he would break under his touch, understanding that he was extremely sensitive, vunerable at this given moment. He wanted Jungkook to know with every kiss to his lips how cared for he was, with every swipe to his cheek that nothing could ever harm him. And that, Jungkook was starting to understand very well, the tears clinging to his cheek, leaking down his face. 

Jungkook slowly spread his legs open, allowing for more space. His mouth clinging onto Taehyung’s as relieved sighs left his lips, signaling he wanted more by grinding his bare cock against his thigh. 

Taehyung had never intended on joining and to be honest, he felt he could be of no help, but how could he starve him? He smelled his need, his lust, his desire. How could anyone starve him? How could anyone deprive him of what he so badly needed? Jungkook was just so innocent and out of touch with reality. And at some point, you and Taehyung had become the weak ones. 

“Relax my baby, Hyung will help now.” The older vampire cooed one last time, before dropping down and attaching his mouth to Jungkook’s pretty pink hole. He mercilessly licked and curled his tongue, applying pressure on the younger’s thighs to keep them from closing, devouring him as if he was his last meal. Jungkook nearly jerked off the bed, but Taehyung’s grip managed to keep him down. The Newborn let out so many pretty harmonies, already feeling addicted to the way Taehyung’s tongue lapped his juices deliciously into his mouth. 

“Nghhh. Right there, Hyung. F-Feels so fucking good.” Jungkook moaned loudly, throwing his head back, raising his hips with every sinful lick. Taehyung continued to work his mouth, prying his ass completely open, stuffing his hole with just enough tongue to satisfy him.

You couldn’t torment yourself any longer just by watching so you stuffed your own pussy with two fingers, they slid with ease, synching a moan with Jungkook. Both, completely overwhelmed with so much pleasure. 

Taehyung smiled against Jungkook, realizing what had just occurred. Taehyung knew you far too well. Couldn’t stand a minute without cock stuffing your needy cunt. 

As expected, Jungkook couldn’t bear feeling trapped any longer. With one final, strong tug on the ropes they loosened enough, falling to his sides. He didn’t waste a second to grab a fistful of Taehyung’s locks as he continued to eat him out. You were quite shocked that he hadn’t torn the cloth off his eyes first or managed to somehow destroy the headboard to pieces, but that was most likely due to the fact that he was so lost in pleasure and he was just desperate to come again. Taehyung had been caught by surprise, but continued to thrust his tongue inside him. 

“Fuck, f-fuck, Hyung, ‘M s-so close. Gonna c-come.” Jungkook kept releasing the prettiest whimpers, pulling and tugging at Taehyung’s hair while he reached his second climax. With one last moan, Jungkook came all over himself again, sweat coating his body, prettily. The sight managing to rip an orgasm out of you as well. 

Taehyung finally pulled off, wiping his lips clean with his tongue, his eyes blown out completely, incredibly turned on himself. Jungkook fell back once more, relaxing himself under Taehyung’s hold, attempting to catch his irregular breathing. But the mission hadn’t ended there.

“Keep it on.” Taehyung stopped the very weak Newborn from ripping the blindfold off with a slap to his wrist at the last second. “Hyung will take it off when that time comes. And you, come milk my cock.”

Nearly whimpering at his demand, you settled yourself on top of Taehyung because that is where you belonged. It is the place you felt like a Goddess in, he would worship your body like the Queen you were and it was the only place you could live forever. You believed you were meant for Taehyung and he for you, shaped to fit perfectly inside you. Like you were used to doing, you positioned his cock right above your leaking lips, slowly sitting into the stretch. You held your breath until he was completely inside you, feeling him pulse around you. 

“That’s it baby. Ride me well.” Taehyung grunted, hands positioned right above your waist as the man was helping you adjust, feeling your tight pussy squeeze his length. “Let Jungkookie hear how good this big dick feels inside you.”

Releasing a high pitched moan, you lifted your hips just to smash back down against Taehyung, setting a nice pace. “F-Fuck.”

Jungkook felt a spike of arousal rush to his cock once more, hardening on his stomach. This was torture to him and Taehyung knew that. You both knew that. 

You gasped, feeling Taehyung’s cock brushing your tight walls, filling you entirely, his palms striking your ass with a quick sting. “Let him hear you, baby. Tell Jungkookie how good this feels. Tell him. Such a whore for my cock, tell him baby.” 

Jungkook felt he could come again as he heard you cry out for Taehyung. “Feels so–ahh, good Jungkookie! Feel so full, I’m gonna fuh–fucking come. Ah!” 

“Don't. Not yet.” Taehyung grunted, keeping a tight grip, thrusting from below you to meet your hips. He was completely destroying your insides. Nothing you couldn’t handle. His hips came to a sudden stop and the positions shifted forcing you to face down with your ass up in the air. Though you assumed you would come in contact with the mattress, Jungkook’s chest was there to catch you. He quickly picked up the change and pulled you in closer, caressing your back as Taehyung parted your entrance to align himself and with no hesitation shoved his cock back inside you, stuffing your puffy walls entirely. 

Jungkook felt this was much, much worse because now he could feel you squirm and shiver against his chest, hearing your breathy moans right above his ear. He didn’t know how much more he could take before he completely exploded. 

“Fuck me, fuck, oh fuckkk!” You squealed feeling Taehyung fuck himself into you from behind with no plan to stop. Tightly gripping one cheek he thrusted deeply, setting a brutal pace. 

“Tell him again, baby. Tell him how much you love being fucked from behind. You’re so fucking tight baby, fuck. I should just fill you up right now.” Taehyung moaned and with his other hand grabbed a fist of your hair, fucking you exactly as you liked it. Fucking his little slut how she pleased.

Jungkook hissed, feeling you dig your fingertips into his arms in an attempt to catch a break, but you were so far gone by now. “Mmm, I love it so much. Fuck, puh–please let me come please, I can’t last any longer. Nghhh.”

He cheekily smacked your ass, continuing the brutal pace inside you that would eventually break the knot that had built within your stomach. “Yeah baby? Make a mess on my fucking dick, let Jungkook hear you angel. You feel so fucking good princess.” 

The knot within you had completely exploded the second he finished his last praise, dropping the grip he had on your hair and allowing you to release your orgasm comfortably against Jungkook’s chest, moaning a repeated ‘yes, yes, yes’ into his neck. The Newborn took everything for you, caressing you into a tight hold while you came strongly. 

Taehyung slowed down until he eventually pulled out very carefully, watching your folds drip with your sweet juices. While still panting, you pulled off Jungkook, growing relaxed on the empty spot beside him. 

Although nothing had happened to him, Jungkook was still somehow out of breath himself, still hungry for more. As expected, he was still hard and aching for a final release. But you had no energy for more, completely spent, that’s where Taehyung would come in handy. He could always handle more than you could. 

Taehyung leaned over Jungkook’s heated body, finally releasing the blindfold around his head, welcoming his eyes to the mess that had been created in such a short time. It took some time for Jungkook’s eyes to adjust to his surroundings again, but there it was. 

The only people he desperately wanted, the only people he needed. The only two people he ironically fell deep in love with. His lovers.

Taehyung placed his palm against Jungkook’s cheek affectionately. “You okay, baby? You did so good. I’m so proud of you.” 

Jungkook blinked tears away, his pretty eyes glistened in the sunlight that had sneakily made its way through a crack. “You are? B-But I tore the ropes. And ‘m s-so messy. D-Don’t you hate me?” 

Taehyung immediately shook his head, pushing his nose against the younger’s.  “No, my baby. I could never hate you. None of us. You look prettiest like this, baby. I’m really proud of you.” 

The Newborn leaned in for a passionate kiss which Taehyung granted, feeling so many emotions but for once, he was no longer hyperfixed on the burn that had been longing in his throat, but now satisfied with the warmth he felt within his heart. Jungkook loves so deeply.

With a pop to release Taehyung’s lip, Jungkook begged one last time. “Fuck me please. Just one last time, I promise. M’ s-still hungry.” 

Taehyung smiled. “I know, baby, I know. Get on your knees and face Y/N.” 

The younger man didn’t waste any time hooking an arm over your bare chest and pulling you underneath him almost as if he was gonna fuck you in the process (maybe it was possible, but that would come next time). Though still wet from earlier, Taehyung decided to spit into Jungkook's fluttering hole before easing his hard cock into him. Once Jungkook had adjusted with a muttered ‘move, please’, Taehyung pulled out slowly only to thrust his way back inside. He started fucking Jungkook like he deserved it, fast and precise. He wanted to fuck him until his legs gave out, until Jungkook understood just how proud he was of him. Being able to control your thirst as a newborn was a difficult thing, but Jungkook had proven just how well he could withstand it (even if he was a bit more spoiled than others, that was something only you and Taehyung had to know). 

“Fuck. Ah! Hyung, right there!” This time it was Jungkook throaty moans being heard above your ear as he was being railed mercilessly, repeatedly hitting his sweet spot.

He whimpers, hearing Taehyung’s moans, feeling Taehyung’s dainty hands tighten around Jungkook’s thin waist, thumbs digging into the dimples forming his back. Taehyung could only control his own release so much, he was very close, especially feeling Jungkook’s tight wall squeeze around his length with every stroke. 

Jungkook’s dick was embarrassingly hard and only kept rutting against your thigh as Taehyung made it his mission to fuck him into fucking oblivion. There wasn’t much you could do, but observe the look on Jungkook’s face as he was getting fucked like the good boy he was. Moving a hand down, you took a hold of his cock pumping him roughly. Jungkook felt his lovers everywhere, he never wanted it to end.

“I’m gonna— Ah!” Jungkook broke into sweet gasps, eyes shut, feeling himself make a mess into whatever was left beneath him. He delivered his orgasm all over your hand, his seed decorating your stomach, leaking into the sheets below. The room was filled with the stench of sex. You would argue it had never smelled better.

Taehyung soon came himself and heard Jungkook softly chant to come inside him and that is exactly what he did, filing Jungkook up completely, sperm leaking down his thighs. 

Taehyung swore he had never seen a view this beautiful in between breathless pants. His two lovers, completely spent underneath him, willing to do just anything and everything for him. He had never seen anything prettier, such pretty messes. Taehyung was careful when removing himself from Jungkook, who winced at the empty feeling. It didn’t take long for Taehyung to find his pretty lovers tangled in bed while he carefully wiped them clean with a wet towel. With him, he brought a cup of blood that was to be stored for emergencies. However Taheyung used the supply quite often for his Newborn lover, but who was he to deny his baby of anything he needed? 

Tapping his shoulder gently, Jungkook pushed himself up against the headboard immediately downing the red liquid. 

“Drink it slowly baby, slowly.” Taehyung cooed with a soft– sharp tone, both watching Jungkook swallow every last drop, his pretty lips were tainted red followed with a streak of blood running down his chin. Always such a messy thing. “Ahh– so pretty, my sweet baby.”

“Good boy, Jungkookie.” You whispered.

Jungkook felt himself melt into the sheets with a huge smile, blush setting deep within his soft cheeks. He was finally home. 

-

-

-

That was what it was like most times and it is what set the scene most days. 

Two older vampires admiring their Newborn lover into fitting the lifestyle they had always known. Three lovers who loved deeply and passionately. Three lovers who would always find happiness through each other.

-

-

-

“I love you.” Jungkook whispered, feeling you both beside him, arms wrapping around his thin waist, legs entangling each other’s. “I love you both so much.” 

Taehyung kissed the boy’s cheek while you leaned deeper into Jungkook’s embrace. “We love you more, baby.”

#jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #taekook smut

[sitp-recs]

When I saw that Anti-romance/Heartbreak was the 2nd most voted option for a V Day rec list I couldn’t resist! I’m surprised that I came up with so many titles, as I don’t usually read unhappy endings. Or maybe - as I came to realize - I do read them, as long as they’re short enough to make me recover nice and quick 😂 I’ve got to be in a mood to dive into these but oh boy, do they hurt good. Darkness and heartbreak done right can be fascinating and cathartic in a very special way, and what better date to indulge than today?

Disclaimer: there’s no MCD or force majeure at work here. I specifically wanted fics that showcase heartbreak as the result of human action - flawed characters, bad choices, cruelty, messed up romance. Some are on the darker side, some are just angsty af, some include toxic relationships and fidelity issues. Please mind the tags and enjoy! Major thanks to @writcraft who brainstormed ideas with me and was especially invested in this theme, and to my dear pal @tackytigerfic who didn’t even think twice before selecting this option on the poll. This is for you both! <3

Scent Memory by bryoneybrynn (M, 755 words)

Draco's been away for five years but it wasn't long enough.

Nothing to Declare Here. by hephaestiions (T, 1.1k)

He shatters. You watch.

The love you no longer seek by @teacup-tai (M, 1.3k)

Harry’s smile is small and painful. His head lolls to the side to watch Draco with such deep emotion, such a turmoil, such confusion. “Come here,” Harry whispers, voice deep, palm turning up, hand reaching towards his husband.

Draco/Rest by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 1.6k)

Harry’s estranged husband has never really been estranged to him.

Never Fall Apart by @writcraft (M, 2k)

The idea of having an open relationship seems like a good idea until they stop being open with one another.

Ties and Knots by @iero0 (G, 2k)

I’m not prepared for the way it makes me feel when I watch you across the room, or for the tenderness of your touch. I’m even less prepared to see you touch her the same way.

The Language of Power by Lokifan (E, 2.3k)

Harry loves talking in Parseltongue to Draco during sex: his response is just delicious.

cruel blade by @wheezykat (E, 2.5k)

Drowning in his grief after the murder of his husband, Draco will do anything to bring him back. But this is not Harry. This is something else entirely.

Buttercup by @tackytigerfic (E, 2.8k)

Scorpius shoulders his way through the crowd, making for the bar just behind Harry. He's waiting for something—anything—but it's still a delicious shock to feel Harry's fingers against the skin of his wrist, dipping maddeningly slow under the cuff of his robe.

Through His Teeth by @dictacontrion (M, 3k)

"C’mon then, Potter. Don’t tell me there’s nothing you’ve ever wanted to do to this body.”

Cigarettes Will Kill You by Femme (E, 4k)

He lights a cigarette across the pub, his hand cupped to his mouth as the tip sparks to life in a faint orange flare, and my breath catches.

Call Me Friend, But Keep Me Closer by @tackytigerfic (M, 4k)

"Neville Longbottom had always loved plants, but he loved Harry Potter more." Neville's got a good thing going with Harry... or so he thinks.

Magpie by @corvuscrowned (E, 4k)

Potter doesn't steal because he needs anything, Draco quickly learns. He doesn't do it because it makes him feel anything. It isn't about power, and it isn't about control. Potter just does it because he can.

Table Ten by @lower-east-side (E, 4k)

Harry loves working on Thursday nights.

The Quiver of a Heartstring by @tackytigerfic (E, 4k)

Draco Malfoy has been away for eight months and seventeen days, but now he's back, and Harry has never stopped wanting him.

Not That Kind of Lovers by alpha_exodus (M, 5.6k)

The only thing Draco knows is that at the end of this, one of them will be dead.

Dirge Without Music by @writcraft (E, 6k)

Albus is happy because everything seems to be coming together. He is captain of the Quidditch team and his father is getting married again – then one night the bottom falls out of his world.

fermata by onewhodiedyoung (M, 6.5k)

Or, Draco, after and before he forgot Harry, after and after he lost his mother.

Better Left Dead by @wellhalesbells (T, 6.6k)

A love story and a half.

Bitter. Sweet. Alive. by @gracerene (E, 6.7k)

Tomorrow, everything is going to change, but they still have tonight.

Epitaphs in Autographs by @vukovich (E, 7k)

A series of works surrounding death, imperfect relationships, flawed coping, and humanity.

Blame Is Shaped Like A Circle by @sleepstxtic-drarry and @gnarf (T, 7k)

Harry and Draco take you through the story of their life together.

The Way It Is by amalin (M, 7k)

‘Give it time,’ Hermione advised. Harry was draped atop the Potions book he was supposed to be reading, the instructions for Stinging Solution an ironically cool comfort against his cheek, her fingers carding gently through his hair. ‘It was just—you’ll feel better, in time.’

The Turquoise Cottage by deja_lu (M, 7.6k)

Draco Malfoy lives in a cottage. It's a very nice cottage. Every morning, she makes herself tea. The kettle is broken, so she boils the water in a pot. Then Harry Potter turns up.

hear me (with your whole body) by @teacup-tai (E, 9k)

It was a sexy idea, exploring other bodies with Draco, engaging in sex with other people to spice things up. Something inside of him was excited about the prospect, but the nagging fear, the feeling of abandonment that follows each image that pops in his head is throwing him off.

Saltwater Stain by @the-starryknight (M, 9k)

Seven days stuck on a boat investigating a rogue ghost wouldn't be so bad if Harry didn't want Draco so much. Draco has his rules and Harry's content to follow them, but the air feels different away from the shore.

The Disappearing Act by @corvuscrowned (M, 11k)

The only thing Potter is good at is disappearing from Draco's life. But Draco can't just stand by and watch the man destroy himself.

Closure is a state of mind by @quicksilvermaid (E, 12k)

After Harry's husband Charlie is killed, his Mind Healer recommends a Polyjuice therapy company, so Harry can see 'Charlie' again and find closure over his death.

The Eighth Tale by lettered (E, 12k)

Draco Malfoy tries to fix the past, but instead mucks it up some more. For Harry, it all becomes quite clear.

any day now by @oknowkiss (E, 17k)

Draco supposes he should be grateful. The rehabilitation centres were the Minister’s idea, or that’s what the Prophet said anyway.

I Love You by Curlee_Cue (M, 18k)

Harry knows what love is. It’s something that grows. Something that adapts. Something that sometimes needs a little help along the way. (or the one in which Harry loses his mind).

Collapse Amongst the Dying Stars by @writcraft (M, 26k)

After the final battle nothing is quite as Harry expected. Death Eaters remain unaccounted for, Malfoy is in prison and there is something rotten in Azkaban.

The Good Guys by Frayach (E, 26k)

When Draco Malfoy is captured red-handed trying to sell an illegal potion to a clerk at Borgin & Burkes, he is handed over to the Department of Essential and Necessary Truth’s newest interrogator.

Dreaming Darkly by @quicksilvermaid (E, 40k)

It's five years after the war, and Harry is not okay. He hates his job. He hates Robards. He hates Ron's promotions and Hermione's concern.

Absolution by sunnyeclipses (E, 63k)

At the mercy of his failing marriage, Harry only meant to use the potion once — to get Draco to listen. It’s not his fault that it works so well and that Draco’s just so easy to control.

#happy v day #drarry recs #heartbreak

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Twenty-Nine — Paper Trail

“We don’t know enough yet to make any assumptions.” Dr. Sims said cooly from the kitchen, like he himself was trying to hold back from demanding answers from the universe. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something in the files today. If not, hopefully the tests will tell us something we missed.”

6k words | 30 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Illness, medical procedures [mentioned], racism, abuse, lore. so much lore.

⚠ AUTHOR'S NOTE: There are a lot of imbedded links on this chapter! Some are very low quality, as I had to work with what I could screenshot off of Youtube. If only SPP compiled their stuff in one place like a normal game company. Anyways enjoy!

I woke up to Dad sitting on the floor next to the couch, calling my name gently. “Jeanie, wake up,” he hummed. “C’mon, I made coffee.”

“Do I have to?” I grumbled, face still in the cushions. 

Dad and I had stayed up for nearly two hours after I had walked back into the house and talked about everything; the guilt, the anger, the truth. He wasn’t as mad at me as I thought he was—while he was upset, he didn’t blame me for it. Any of it. “Jean, you don’t know what to do o-or what’s going on,” he reassured me, “I can’t get upset at you for that. I just want you to be careful.” He wanted nothing more than for me to trust his judgment. And maybe I needed to; Dad knew what he was doing. I’d be safe if I listened to him, right? I had to trust him. 

But it was hard, when we both kept hiding things from each other. 

So I extended the olive branch first, and told him the truth; the pain in my back when I use my powers but how it eases when I’m in water. He listened intently to it all, simply nodding along. “I’ll tell Eugene in the morning,” he eventually decided, “We’ll figure it out, I promise,” 

Maybe it was wrong for me to not say anything about Mom as I was huddled into his chest, but I wasn’t sure I could get through that conversation without becoming a blubbering mess. And besides, maybe that was simply meant for me. No one else. 

The heart-to-heart led to us falling asleep on the couch, my head in Dad’s lap as he reclined back. Apparently I exhausted myself in my sobbing so much that I didn’t know Dad slipped away in the morning. Not until he woke me up at least. “Eugene needs to give you a look over and we…we need to talk to you about something too.”

That got me to turn to look at Dad through my curtain of hair. He was crouched holding two cups, Dr. Sims standing behind him with his arms crossed. 

This was gonna be fun. 

Dr. Sims assured me he knew enough basic medical care to know if I was okay. “Or at least, if something is wrong,” he added, looking me over. “Double majored while in college, I just never took the MCAT.”

I had no idea what that was, but nodded like I did as he checked my pulse, timing it against his watch. 

He looked over my scars, checked their stitches. The hole in my neck was barely touched but he at least seemed satisfied by how it looked under its clear wrapping, which I was beginning to think was just saran wrap taped down. “Your dad said it hurts when you use your powers?” he asked me, examining the scar on my side. It was settling into a nice purple, bright against my skin. 

“It’s — it’s not really a hurt,” I started, trying to downplay it. Dad was looking at me too intensely for me to be comfortable with just admitting the fact. “It’s almost like I feel sore when I do, in between my shoulderblades.”

Dr. Sims nodded, hand coming around to my back. “Right here?” He asked, pressing between my shoulder blades. My hand tensed around the coffee mug as I nodded, trying not to wince as he palpated the area.

“Yeah,” I eventually said. 

Dr. Sims hummed, moving his hand away from my back. “And does it hurt while you use your power, or after?” 

I shrugged. “Both? But it only hurts while I’m using it if I do it for a long time. Otherwise it’s usually this, like, twinge after.” 

He nodded, moving to the table to type out some notes on his open mini-laptop. Dad sat back down on the couch beside me, one hand staying wrapped around the coffee mug while the other came to wrap around me. 

I didn’t like that. He would give out affection often, sure, but holding? That usually came before bad news. 

Dr. Sims picked up his laptop and brought it close, sitting on my other side. “Jean, we got your test results back.” He began. 

My heart stopped. “Already?” I asked meekly. Dad’s arm pulled me a bit closer to his side as I slightly turned to face Dr. Sims better. 

Dr. Sims nodded. “I pulled some strings.” 

I waited a moment for him to continue. “So then…what did the results say?” I asked. I hated that he wouldn’t start explaining without my prompting. 

Dr. Sims looked at the computer. “Well, the good news is that there’s nothing wrong with you genetically,” he began. “In terms of chromosomal makeup, you and Brent look perfect.” 

I nodded slowly. “That’s…that’s good,” I glanced over my shoulder at Dad. “But then,” I looked back to Dr. Sims, “Why am I not healing?” 

Dad’s arm squeezed around me gently. “That’s where the bad news comes in.” He said softly. “You know how we took samples of the stuff on your leg?” 

“Yeah?” 

“The results came back abnormal,” Dr. Sims said. “We’re not sure what that means yet, though. Once we’re done here with Mr. Dunbar, I want to take you to the nearest Accredited hospital to do more tests.”

I had to suppress a groan. More tests. “What would — what’re you looking for?” I asked. 

Dad took over the conversation. “Well, answers. We now know Augustine’s tar, one hundred percent, is what’s making you sick. We just need to know how, and why.”

“Mr. Dunbar already got in contact with someone who can examine the tar for us. He just left to mail it. They’re in Boston, so it will take a day or two to get the sample there — but I know this person. She’d be able to uncover any secrets we wouldn’t be able to see.”

 “And we need to make sure you’re okay, too.” Dad added. “See if anything’s changed since the last time we took blood, check your scars. Your arm could probably use a check-up too.”

“And I want to examine your conducrine gland, with your report of pain,” Dr. Sims continued. “I want to take a quantification assay and make sure you’re making enough proteins, and double check that you’re not having any complications. Maybe an MRI.”

I nodded once. “Okay.” I said, like I wasn’t both confused and dreading everything.

“Until then, if you have any more pain, you tell us, okay?” Dad practically demanded. Dr. Sims got up from his spot on the couch to set his computer back on the table, grabbing his empty cup and heading to the counter to get more coffee. 

There was something I needed to know, though. “Did Mom’s com–conducrine gland ever hurt? When she was sick?”

I could feel Dad’s arm around me tense. “It did,” he said. 

“So it’s happening to me too? I thought my test results came back normal, genetically.” I looked at Dad. “If it happened to Mom too, then how…”

A shadow crossed over Dad’s face as he scowled. “We’re wondering the same.”

“We don’t know enough yet to make any assumptions.” Dr. Sims said cooly from the kitchen, like he himself was trying to hold back from demanding answers from the universe. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something in the files today. If not, hopefully the tests will tell us something we missed.”

The hot cup did nothing to warm me as my blood ran cold. They both seemed angry at the idea that Mom had something put in her, too — and I didn’t like the fact that despite reassuring me they’re not sure what the cause could be, they both seemed settled on a reason to blame. 

Brent eventually stumbled downstairs looking refreshed after resting, which was a relief unlike any other as the image of his lifeless body began to lose its harsh edges in my mind’s eye. Dad managed to find and burn some eggs and turkey bacon as we waited for Zeke to return, and for a brief bit, it almost felt like I could pretend that everything was normal. That we were on some trip in a less-than-stellar rental and this was just breakfast after a night spent gaming or binging a movie series Dad insisted was fantastic. 

Imagining was all I could do to keep from dwelling on the what ifs. 

Zeke eventually came back — and then stepped back out, bringing in muddied ammo box after muddied ammo box. “They’re weather resistant,” he explained to Brent when he gave Zeke a bewildered look. “Which is needed when you live in a swamp. Good for hiding stuff.”

Dad crouched low and pulled his briefcase out from under the loveseat couch, saying, “I brought everything I could. Some stuff got damaged in Betty’s old storage unit, but I managed to salvage most of it.”

“Is that why you brought the briefcase?” Brent asked, glancing over at me. We had a bet going on what he was intending to do with it. “I thought you were just gonna start going back to work,”

Dad’s smile was half hearted. “Nope. Everything in here’s from my adventures,”

The way Dad sarcastically said adventures suggested it wasn’t the fun kind in the movies. 

Dr. Sims began working at his computers at the small table, the mini-laptop perched precariously on his lap as the other two shared the liminal space of the wood. Dad sat on the couch between Brent and I and opened up his briefcase, revealing a hell of random stuff; dozens of crumpled and folded pieces of paper, random little shreddings that almost looked like trash. There was some flier that was badly taped together and newspaper clippings, notes upon notes in Dad’s scratchy handwriting layered in margins of scrap paper and what almost looked like…

“Comics?” I blinked, pulling up the creased stacks of paper. “Did you make a comic?” 

I looked up at Dad in time to see him grimace. “No.” He said, flat. “Those were all clues some crazy killer left me while she tried to frame us all.” 

I looked back down at the artwork in my hands. “Oh.” 

“But there’s—“ Brent began flipping through the papers Dad shoved in his hands. “There’s DUP documents in this?” 

Dad shrugged. “I had to hack into their database to get some answers. She was Augustine’s favorite lackey.” 

“Always leads back to that bitch,” Brent murmured, glancing over at me. 

“Brent.” 

“Oh c’mon Dad, you can’t keep getting onto me about it,” 

“Help me organize all this,” Dad commanded, ignoring Brent completely. “I printed out everything I didn’t have a physical copy of so this is…it’s gonna be a lot.”

“How the hell are we supposed to organize this?” Brent asked, incredulous. 

“There’s serial numbers on them all,” Dad said, pointing to a row of one on a DUP document in Brent’s hand. “Find the connected files if you can.” 

“Delsin, come here for a second,” Dr. Sims said at the table. Dad promised to return and help but asked that we get a head start while he was going over something with Eugene.

The comic wasn’t really a traditional one, but almost some sort of manga; a story about a rabbit that lost her family in an attack, and was safeguarded by a large dragon before being locked away. The art style was immaculate, I had to admit — but I didn’t get how some story with a dragon was supposed to be a hint, unless this version of the Zodiac Killer was hiding some code in the shading. 

Brent nodded my way as I looked over the first page again. “What does that say?”

I shrugged. “Nothing much. Just a bunch of drawings.”

“I meant the back.”

“The—” I cut off, flipping the page. 

Death is just a passing phase. I’ve danced with demise, and let me tell you, he’s a bad dancer (always stepping on my toes). But I’ve learned to embrace the macabre — to navigate its twisted depths. Conduits and “normals” are at a crossroads, and if we don’t look both ways, we’ll all get run down. All I want — all I’ve ever wanted — is harmony between people.  Follow my lead and I’ll show you the trail of bodies. Seek out the corpses and you’ll find the truth decaying within. 

“...Oh.” I said meekly. This had to be what Dad was talking about. Some twisted manifesto by a serial killer. 

I flipped over the others, and each of them had something on their backs — some, notes, others, puzzles. “Hold on,” He said, leaning forward. He grabbed the second page of the manga. “‘If you’re trying to get into the DUP, I’ve been there. In fact, I died there.’” He read off. “Look, there’s that serial number thing Dad was talking about.” 

I read off the row of numbers. “Do you have this file? Starts with, uh—” I glanced down again, “3485?”

Brent muttered the number to himself again and again as he flipped through the pages in his hand. “Here,” he finally said, pulling one out from the middle of the pile. It was a statement issued by Brooke Augustine herself on the death of a Conduit detained at Curdun Cay in a death by a thousand paper cuts — literally. Suicide by dozens of cuts created by paper doves. “Jesus Christ,” I murmured, imagining the pain. I read over the memorandum again, pointing to its first sentence, “There’s a number here, do you have a file for that one?” I asked Brent, “Ends in 2606,” 

“I was just looking at that,” He said. “Fuckin’ — here. Some girl named Celia.” He looked over to Dad, who was behind Dr. Sims, reading something on a screen. “Who was Celia?” 

“Paper conduit?” I asked, incredulous. She could control paper! Or, did — at least with enough control to kill herself. 

Dad glanced over. “She’s the one that made those drawings.”

I blinked. “Guessing she also did the murders?”

“Yep.”

“How’d she get out?” Brent asked. “This says she died,”

Dad breathed deeply, Dr. Sims waving him off and letting him return to our side. “Augustine faked her death to sneak her out of Curdun Cay. Killed some random guard."

“But why?” I asked, looking up from the row of manga strips.

Dad didn’t answer — not at first, at least. He sighed deeply before reaching into the briefcase for a manila folder, opening it and peeking past the flap to check its contents. He nodded once before reaching in to start pulling out photocopies of pictures, laying them out facing us. 

“Jesus,” Brent muttered.

I wasn’t prepared for it to be 90% bodies and death, of someone pinned to a billboard or being held against a wall by dozens of paper doves, bloodied and beaten and dead. “I need you both to look at this,” Dad said, looking up at us with a serious expression. There was barely any emotion in his face now, eyes peering at us like we were on the stand. “Augustine and Celia did this to keep up the narrative. Killed people that had ties to your mom and Eugene to make it look like it was them seeking revenge.” He leaned forward slightly. “And Archangel bombed COLE to try and get me to show myself. There are people out there that will see you as nothing more than a chance to hurt someone else. Nothing more than something to keep the story going. These are the kind of people I’m trying to keep from hurting you.” He looked between Brent and I. “Do you understand?” 

I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes to peel away from the imagery of death and look somewhere, anywhere else. I wasn’t prepared for that. Bodies. A path painted in bloodshed long before I even had the chance to walk it, and littered with fresher meat for the sacrifice of someone else's cause. It felt so hopeless; was this really all there was? All there could be?

Looking away wasn’t a good idea, because my eyes moved from casualty to casualty as they landed on a picture of Mom next to some detective agency’s logo. 

My hand was moving to pick up the file before I could even blink, bringing the black and white photocopy close to my face. I swear, if I concentrated hard enough, I could make her eyes move, almost see how she would bring her chin up and cock her head to the side like she did in the hallucination. 

And this time, I wasn’t too sad while looking at the picture. Zeke was right; was it wrong to treat it as a fact even if there was a good chance it wasn’t? Maybe it was better, knowing the hallucination was just that and yet still being able to be a bit indulgent. 

I forced my eyes off of Mom’s photo to the blurb under it, reading through the information this random detective agency had. “Wait,” I murmured, rereading a single line again and again. “Dad? This thing says Mom’s parents wanted to…wanted to talk to her again.”

Brent’s head snapped around to look at me. “What?” He demanded, snatching the page out of my hand and swatting me away when I tried to take it back. “Holy shit, that’s Mom,”

Dad meanwhile did nothing more than sigh hard. “We did hear from her parents. Shortly after we did the whole gender reveal thing.” His jaw tightened at the memory. “It didn’t go well.”

Brent lowered the page, brow knitting closer together as he looked up at Dad. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

I put down the manga drawings in my hands, giving Dad my full attention too. I had always wondered, if we had a mom, where her side of the family was. I understood Dad was an orphan, he never shied away from that fact; but he never elaborated much on Mom except that her brother passed. I never found the courage to ask about grandparents on that side, either. Brent had once, and the scowl was enough to make me realize it was something he never intended answering. 

Until now. “We had met somewhere in downtown Seattle, which was probably the first mistake. They both didn’t want to be in such a liberal area, and it didn’t help that Lifeline was protesting a lot more after the mass Curdun Cay release. Your mom was still on trial for her murders—”

“While pregnant?” Brent asked, eyes widening. 

Dad shrugged. “All of us were. You think they were gonna let all of us go without a fight? There’s a reason the Akurans found your mom so easily.” He inhaled hard, trying to bleed the anger out of his voice. “They weren’t happy about the publicity of the trial. Add that on top of your mom having children with someone that wasn’t white, and the fact that they refused to apologize for turning Abbs in to the DUP and…well, why keep them around?”

“Jeez,” I hummed, glancing back down at the page in Brent’s hand, Mom’s face staring back at me upside down. I couldn’t think of much else to say but that, other than wishing I could’ve somehow supported Mom during that time. Her parents wouldn’t even say sorry for giving her away to the government!

Brent could form more words than me. “None of the shit she went through would have happened if they didn’t try to sell her in the first place,”  He bit, angry at their audacity. 

Dad nodded. “You would think they’d feel bad after everything that started coming out about Curdun Cay — the experiments and all that. But these are the same people Abbs told me didn’t think conversion therapy was a bad thing, so I guess they just saw it as another form of that.”

“Assholes.” Brent spit. 

Dad didn’t reprimand him that time. 

“Let’s just go through these files.” He finally decided. “Jean, get together all the F.A.N numbers from the back of those drawings. Brent, start throwing things in piles by person or facility or whatever.”

I snuck a chance at reading more of the manga as I scribbled down everything I found on a torn bill envelope Zeke passed over to me; it was Celia’s life story, pieced together by the files and clues connected to it. A girl who lost everything like so many others right here in New Marais before being found by a dragon and locked away in some cells carved into the side of a mountain. There was imagery of the child rabbit being torn in half as a being more sleek and pure colored rabbit, which I had to guess had to be her ‘death’ and rebirth, if the note on the back was anything to go by. In fact, I died there. 

It never showed how she escaped, but the next page did show three others as they rushed away from the dozens of wyvern pursuing them — it took me longer than I’d admit to realize who they were. The next page spoke the representation clearly though; ‘Inazuma…vengeance now her drug of choice.’ The peahen was slaying shady looking shrews with needles slinging away from their hands. 

Mom. 

The next page featured a rooster named Ushinatta who had ‘went back to playing games’, the rooster opening its huge wings and calling down hens to peck at some bullies. That had to be Dr. Sims. 

There was a third guy, though, that I realized I didn’t know. 

Kemuri. Some sort of lizard…or maybe a gecko? “Who swore he’d never harm anyone” the page read as the gecko attacked a caravan driven by an elephant. There were three people that escaped that van, weren’t there? Mom, Dr. Sims…and someone else. 

I lifted my head and was about to ask Dad when Brent said, “Here, this dude matches the drawing,” under his breath, handing me another DUP file. An incident report, in fact:

Despite our best efforts to isolate the detainees in as safe and thorough a manner as possible, two ward-mates developed a relationship that threatened to undermine the careful work being done with both: inmate 007-3171-8404 began looking out for 056-7339-2606, warding off any bullies and establishing a friendship.  RESOLUTION: Inmate 007-3171-8404 was relocated to the maximum-security ward, due to his history of escape attempts and insurrection.  Monitoring of inmate 056-7339-2606 has been increased ever since she used her daily paper privilege to create the attached image:

A full body drawing of the gecko was photo scanned with the DUP file, creased lines doing nothing to hinder the artwork.

My new friend was taken away today, the words under it read, It was my fault, I’m sure. I was just trying to be nice…just like he was nice to me. He told me I reminded him of his daughter. And now, just like my real parents— He’s gone. 

“You got anything on this 8404 inmate?” I asked Brent. Dad was busy organizing a bunch of little tags, not even registering that we were talking. 

Brent’s side of the floor looked way more organized than mine; perfect piles of paper with shredded clippings on top of each one, numbers or names scribbled on top. “Yeah, uh—” Brent’s eyes scanned the piles in front of him before he reached out, snatching the page away so fast that the clipping on top of it fluttered off somewhere. “Here. You plan on organizing the comic thing, by the way?”

“Fuck off,” I murmured, nearly laughing when Brent’s head snapped towards Dad as he waited for the reprimand, and balked when he saw it wasn’t coming. I stuck my tongue out at Brent before looking at the inmate file, trying to keep my snickering as quiet as possible. 

Hank Daughtry. Apparently some guy that was a criminal before puberty, who’d rob or break out of jail every chance he got — but never harmed a civilian when he did. Curdun Cay was the first place to keep him in place. At least, till that military vehicle.

The power section, though, held all of the answers I needed; he could wield smoke. Embers and fire, too, if the paper was to be believed. I could hear the echoes of Dad’s voice in the back of my head: “She thought the guy I got smoke from told me about her plan — the breakout and DUP funding, all that.” 

Betty had said Dad helped bring down her warehouse when he first got his powers. The first power. Smoke. 

But that didn’t explain why Dad was so quiet about this guy. Why, before this moment, I had never heard of him. “Dad?” I asked. 

He tore his eyes away from the newspaper clipping in his hands. “What’s up?”

“What happened to this Hank guy? You know, after Seattle?” I glanced down at the file again — there wasn’t even a picture of the inmate on this one. There was a wall of blacked out text at the bottom of the file, though. “Did he not help you guys?”

Behind Dad, Dr. Sims stopped typing, looking over to where we sat. Even Brent stopped to see what Dad was gonna say. 

“He didn’t.” Dad said simply, jaw clenched. “It was just me, Eugene and your mom that took on Augustine.”

Brent blinked. “What, did he not want to?”

“I wouldn’t have let him if he did. He was a piece of shit, anyways.”

I glanced down at the inmate file; moral code, immense self discipline. Whatever issue Dad had with him sure didn’t seem to match the document. “What happened to him?” I asked.

“Does it matter?”

Dad’s voice bit with a ferocity that wasn’t usual from him unless we were in trouble. “I mean,” I scrambled to say, the tone activating the fear of getting grounded in me, “I guess not? I was just wonder—”

“Then there you go. It doesn’t matter.” Dad inhaled deeply before continuing, “If Daughtry’s files don’t have anything useful in them, then do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Throw them in the trash.” Dad said flatly, moving to get up. He left towards the kitchen where Zeke was messing with the discarded stuff from another ammo box, roughly grabbing the stale pot of coffee to pour a cup and drink it black in one go like it was a shot. 

I looked over at Brent, bewildered, who was already turning back to face me with his eyebrows shot up so high they were close to disappearing into his unkempt hair. He mouthed What the fuck? at me and all I could do is shrug, taking the rest of the papers in Daughtry’s pile to look over. May as well double check them before they became landfill food. 

Not that there was much left in his pile; There were three more pages with no more than three paragraphs on the largest one, each following reports of Daughtry possibly being seen somewhere in Seattle after he broke out blowing up cars in an attempt to assassinate that asshole senator who was caught years ago saying something about how Hitlers policies at least were keeping people safe in that leaked audiofile as he admitted to trying to replicate them for Conduits. 

One of the bullet points on the results of the DUP’s investigation caught my eye, though: no residual signs of Ray Sphere radiation detected. Radiation? Why would there be radiation in the middle of downtown Seattle? “Does anyone know what ray — Ray Sphere radiation is?” I asked the room.

Over in the kitchen, Zeke’s head popped up, looking to Dad for a moment. Whatever he was trying to ask, Dad gave him permission with a shrug of his shoulders. “The Blast in Empire City was from a Ray Sphere.” Zeke began. He took a moment to dig in a box before pulling out one of those leather journals that always looked a little too light brown to be real, brass metal corners of the journal catching the light as Zeke flipped it open. “The First Sons made it.”

He began walking towards us with the journal as he flipped through pages, humming when he landed on what he wanted to show us. “Here. Journal’s useless in some spots ‘cause it’s written in code, but this is what the thing looked like.”

He flipped the journal over and held it out for me to take; the page was a sketch, one side full of components, the other what they all looked like pulled together into one device. 

Brent snorted beside me when he scooted over to look at it, and I knew it was because we were thinking the same thing. “It’s shaped like a Death Star,” He said humorously, looking at me with an eyebrow raised. 

“Just as powerful, too.” Zeke responded. “Thing blew up six blocks and killed thousands.”

That shut Brent up real fast. 

“But I don’t—” I cut off, looking down at the drawing. The etchings beside each piece were all code, the only one highlighted being a jagged piece of rock. “Why would the DUP look for Ray Sphere radiation at an explosion site? Unless they thought someone was trying to take out Seattle.”

Dr. Sims moved off of the barstool, walking over. “May I?” he asked me, giving a nod of thanks when I handed the journal over. He perused the page and then looked at Zeke. “Where did you get this?”

“It was Wolfe’s,” Zeke answered.

That one word was enough to make Dad’s head snap up, and he turned around. “Raymond Wolfe?” He asked. 

Zeke shook his head. “Sebastian, his brother.”

“Oh,” Dad said flatly. “The First Sons scientist. Great,”

Zeke shrugged, gracefully brushing off Dad’s disapproval. “Hey man, sometimes you have to be willing to drink the poison if it means you find out how it would kill someone. We used this to figure out how the RFI worked.”

Dr. Sims flipped through the next few pages, eyes lighting up. “I know this code,” he murmured, before looking up at Dad and Zeke and repeating the words. “I know this code — it was in one of the DUP files I stole. I could decode this journal,”

“Y’think it would have anything that would help us in it?” Dad asked. 

Zeke looked over his shoulder. “Wolfe was the First Son’s top scientist. If there’s anyone that might have information, it would have been him.” Zeke shrugged. “I reckon it’s worth a shot.”

Dr. Sims snapped the journal shut, nodding. “I’ll move upstairs to the spare room, I’m going to need the space.” He said decisively. Each laptop was put in rest mode and shut, stored away at a speed I didn’t know what possible out of someone so lanky. “D, come get me if you all make any progress down here, okay?”

Dad looked at Zeke. “Do you still have the stuff from the runaround with Wolfe?” 

Zeke turned to face Dad fully, watching Dr. Sims disappear up the stairs. “No, I gave it all to Alessia. She might still have it, if we’re lucky.”

Both Brent and my head shot up. “Wait, like, Aunt Sia?” I asked, looking at Dad.

Alessia was known to the world as the chairwoman of COLE and an old ringleader of Project Sanctuary, the nationwide underground anti-DUP movement. In those seven years the DUP had control and were hunting down Conduits to bag and tag, Alessia was trying to sneak Conduits over the border, stage protests, and…well, give the DUP a hard time. If it involved picketing or slashing tires, she was there, coordinating the attacks. 

We didn’t know her as that woman for the longest time, though. To us, she was Aunt Sia; the woman who would watch us when Dad had to go take an exam while he was in school, or needed a break. A babysitter that cared so much about us. The cool lady who brought these fancy Japanese candies every time she’d come over and would take us to things like renaissance faires. I remember her teaching Dad how to braid my hair and making huge masterpieces out of legos with Brent, indulging me by declaring every little drawing I made a masterpiece. She had moved away six or seven years ago and we really only got to see her when there was some big COLE event near Portland. 

But I was surprised to find out that she knew Dad as Delsin and not just Damion.

Dad’s eyes wandered off as he thought. “I…I could call her, see if she still has anything from then.” Eyes snapping back to Zeke, he added, “You’d have to show me how to make calls with your setup, though,” 

“‘Course, it’s in my shed. C’mon, I’ll show ya,”

Zeke was heading towards the door with Dad hot on his heels, who only stopped in its frame to turn to Brent and I and say, “Take any notes on anything you don’t understand, okay? Maybe we’ll figure something out.”

He was gone before we responded. 

“You think this was what he did the whole time?” Brent asked, looking at me and holding up the stack of files he hadn’t gone through yet. “Just reading files and shit?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know. Last I heard he was attacking innocent civilians and killing random passersby.”

Brent rolled his eyes. “How he dealt with all of this without killing someone, I’ll never understand.”

We worked in silence for a while, me taking the time to finish the story and begin to piece it to its pieces of evidence; Saisei had found a new friend, a bird with two heads, and it wasn’t hard to make the connection on who that was supposed to represent. He would tell her stories, and they would laugh for hours on end, the page said, largely contrasting the story Dad had told us. It had to be some sort of mockery thing; I send you running around, and you try to figure out why I’m a psycho. What a laugh! 

But the dragon came down, disapproving of their banter. I fail to see the humor, it said, to which the two-headed representation of Dad replied look harder before beginning to fight her. The personification of Augustine. An epic battle of good and evil…but the roles were debatable the page read, like I was supposed to sympathize with Augustine as she fell to Dad’s talons. 

I wasn’t ready to read the little bunny call Augustine’s character Mama. 

“Look at this shit,” Brent murmured, handing me a page. It was an email log between two people. “Does this make sense to you?” 

It made a lot of sense, too much sense, as I read the first message title: Purotekutā to me (“Saisei”).

I explained the comic to Brent as we reread the email chains together, the pieces of the truth falling in place. “Augustine asked her to stay in the shadows, that she can’t protect Celia.” I looked at Brent, bewildered. “D’you think she adopted Celia? Like, as her own kid?”

“Well she calls Augustine Mama in this thing—” he waved around the stack of stapled manga, “So I’m guessing so. Or whatever fucked up version of ‘family’ they were playing up there in Curdun Cay,”

“‘You have done everything I asked and more, but unless he can be controlled, Delsin is our enemy.’” I read from the email chain. “‘He is blinded by his power, he thinks he’s invincible. But without walls, without his brother, who will protect him?’” 

Brent scoffed. “What a bitch. I should have killed her when we were fighting in the Sound.”

“Think that’s crazy, you should read the last entry on this thing.” I said, offering the paper with the email chain. “Celia messages Augustine saying something about needing to know whose purpose was stronger and that’s why she didn’t try to help her.”

Brent shrugged, taking it. “Raise a lunatic, and don’t be surprised when you’re eventually their victim.”

“Augustine really made everyone her pawn,” I hummed. “Mom, Dr. Sims, this chick. How much of it do you think was to protect Conduits?”

“Not enough, considering she lost.” Brent huffed.

#infamous second son #infamous #infamous erosion #delsin rowe #sucker punch productions #Eugene Sims #Fetch Walker #hehehehehehehehehe #Celia Penderghast #Brooke Augustine #Zeke Dunbar #God I wanna say the OC too but I know Gab's nosey ass reads tags first so I CAN'T #But heho #I forgot literally every other tag. pretend they're here.

[bonesandthebees]

How do you manage to do so little in a chapter yet pack so much stuff into it? Like, the recent Glass chapter was just a conversation between Wilbur and Tommy, and yet it was still thousands of words long. There were a couple Stars chapters like that too.

How do you do it?

For the past couple years, I've been trying to make my writings/chapters/oneshots longer without making it seem like they were dragging on, and I seriously have yet to understand how authors can do something in 100k words that I could only do in 30k.

I know you should always write at whatever pace seems natural for you and not feel pressured to make chapters longer, but it's been a goal of mine since I started writing fanfic to make my fics longer while telling the same story, and I'm always looking for advice to build on it :)

oh this is a good question!!

tbh writing more isn't always better. I try to make sure I'm not dragging my feet with the pacing, but I also don't want to rush anything y'know?

when it comes to chapters like chapter 10 of glass though where it's just a conversation but I have to fill an entire chapter, it kind of just depends on how it all flows together? like with strings of fate, the past few chapters I've struggled to even hit 6k words despite feeling like I had a lot planned, while I was fully expecting to barely make 5k words with chapter 10 of glass but ended up overshooting by so much.

for chapter 10 of glass I had several major conversation points I wrote down that I wanted to hit. but I didn't plot out the conversation super specifically, because I wanted it to feel natural as I wrote it out and just steered it in certain directions. so I knew where I wanted the conversation to go, but as I wrote it, I also worked to include lots of thought process in between the dialogue bits. I think it's important to balance thought process and dialogue when writing chapters without a lot of action, but also you can include other things as well to extend the length of a chapter. like the interaction with techno only took up a single bullet point on my outline for the chapter, but it wasn't a quick blip. it was a whole mini scene in itself.

I don't know if what I'm saying is making sense, but basically I just try to let scenes without much action in them flow the way they want to while steering it in the directions I need. let characters take pauses between lines of dialogue to think things over and give more analysis to their relationships with one another. let things sit in silence for a bit.

there's no easy way to learn how to do this though. it's just something you'll get better at with practice so don't worry about it too much and just focus on letting things develop at their own pace!!

#ask #bones writes #anon

[librathefangirl]

6, 27, 28 for ao3 wrapped?

6. Favorite title you used?

Ooh that's a hard question - so far I've posted 25 fics this year - but I think it is "When the War Is Over (How Do We Rebuild Ourselves)". I don't know, I just like the way that one sounds the most. Also, I feel like it's true to the style a lot of my titles have (she said before mentioning several without that style lol).

Honorable mentions: "My Love, It Burns" (looove the double meaning of that one!), "Marks of a Brother", "When the Past Comes Crashing".

Honorable mentions from my wip folder (technically haven't made it to ao3 but still): "Losing a Part of Me (Is Like Losing a Part of You)", "The Dusk Before a New Dawn", "Wrath of Light".

27. What do you listen to while writing?

As a general rule, nothing. Listening to songs (in a language I understand at least) is more something that gives me fic ideas, so I tend to avoid it. The exception is The Past On My Skin (wip), I've been listening to "Would Anyone Care" by Citizen Soldier while writing that one. But sometimes I listen to my nnt list, especially "Howling", to get into the writing mood (and then shut it off because ~distractions~).

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Again, hard to choose just one... So I'll give you my top three (or at least my top three at this very moment).

When the War Is Over (How Do We Rebuild Ourselves) - I'm gonna have to go with this one again because, well, I really like it. This one was for the ficwip 5k event too, so there's an added pride in me being able to finish it in time. I also liked focusing more on the emotional side of things without any physical whump, and had fun exploring the brothers and the Sins dynamics, as well as potential differences between demons and non-demons (this was after all my Meliodas Can Cook (Demon Food) AU).

The Heat of the Storm - To be completely honest, one of the major reasons this fic is on the list is because it is the origin of my demon thermoregulation hc (explanation post coming soon btw). I also really enjoy the whump in this one, plus playing around with all the Sins knowing Meliodas is a demon but still not fully understanding what that means.

Who'll Hug the Prince of Hell? - Just picking three was still hard lol but I think the last one will have to be my first fic of the year (and the nnt fandom). This was the first fic I posted in a very long time that surpassed 1k words (actually it's over 6k words) and the one that kinda pushed me back into writing more regularly and longer again (this fic and Febuwhump in general). It also helped me realize how much I love to write Meliodas angst/whump :D Plot-wise I also liked that with each of the Sins having their own chapter with Meliodas, I got to explore their respective dynamics with him more. Lastly, "Touch Starved" is a great prompt that can lead to a lot of enjoyable plot and interactions.

Anyway! ao3 wrapped (ask game) <- if anyone wanna send me more questions :)

#thanks for the ask <3 #libra answers #oh-myluckystars #ao3 wrapped ask game #libra talks about her writing

[straw-of-the-hat]

Hi! I want to ask several things, hehe.

1. How many words do you write per chapter? It looked long when I read but sometimes it looked short so I have no estimate.

2. In your own opinion, is it better to write your original character in a ["I think I'm going to be sick," I said, ] kind of way or ["I think I'm going to be sick," He says, ] kind of way?

3. If it's alright with you, what are your tips to overcome writer's block?

4. I really want to know how you could write so many chapters in one story and still managed to create new ones and update from time to time, I suck at finishing chapters or not writing a new chapter after a chapter 😭

Sorry for asking so many things but I think it was better than asking separately 😅

God how long has this been in here sorry I'm so inactive y'all. I'll do my best to answer!

Lez go:

1.) The word count tends to vary for me! Over time my chapters have steadily seemed to get longer. I used to write only 2k words a chapter— now I'm very inclined to hit 4k-5k, sometimes even more encroaching upon 6k. I don't think anyone should hold themselves to any limit though. I don't. Just use as many words as it takes to communicate what you want to communicate and have fun with it!

2.) I think you're asking about third person vs first person. I hope you are anyway and if not I do apologize. Honestly? Between the two it's your preference! It's all about what you as a writer want. I used to write only in first person, but I really don't anymore because third person gives me more flexibility in terms of looking at how other characters feel and what they think. You can really bounce around with it and it leaves less constraint! That being said, first person can be super immersive and really dive into a character and make you feel like you're in their shoes.

3.) I find that listening to music and reading really help jog me back into motivation. Taking a break and trying to write something else is always good too. Typically, I don't try to force myself to write anything if I don't feel like it because that's only going to get me more stuck. Take a step back and find things that inspire you. Brainstorm with friends, write some headcanons, make a playlist for your story. Whatever you gotta do to get the cogs turning again!

4.) I'm honestly not sure how to answer this one 😭 It's not really something I plan, I just kinda do it. Thinking of your story as a map may help. Imagine two major plot points. Let's say point A is the entrance exam of a school. Point B is the first day of that school. What needs to happen to get from that point to the other? Build a bridge— they need to take the exam, first of all. They need to get the results of that exam. They need to get their uniform and celebrate. Make a list of things that need to happen and boom, that's your chapter content right there! You'll know you've finished a chapter or chapters when you've checked everything off and arrived at your point B, at which point you brainstorm point C and do the same thing.

I hope some of this helped! I'm 100% not a professional though— this is just what works for me!

#writing #bnha fanfiction #original character #ifk whats going on #i havent slept

[pearl-neo]

writing log 1.

‹ last updated: 22nd of December, 2022 ›

» title: paranoia

» category: one-shot

» genre: contemporary / psychological thriller / suspense / mystery / angst

» cast: johnny⬩jaehyun⬩mark⬩reader's sister

» pairings: johnny + reader ⬩ jaehyun + reader's sister

⚘ pitch/synopsis: After a year spent living as a shut-in, you finally agree to go on a drive with your sister. When a storm steers your plan off course, you find yourselves brought closer to two charming strangers—but an unsettling tension lingers in your mind.

» warnings so far: anxiety; agoraphobia; implications of depression; ongoing feelings of helplessness and general discomfort and self-doubt; mental breakdown; minor violence; character death

» current stage: brainstorm ✓ | draft 1 ✓ | draft 2 ✓ | draft 3 ✓ | draft 4 ✓ | final edit ✓ | proofread ✓ | posted ✓

» word count update: 13,644

» cover photo? complete ✓

⚘ Read on Tumblr | ⚘ on AO3 | ⚘ on Wattpad

⚘ thoughts & ramblings + updates:

‹ NOV 8 ›This is my first time attempting to write a fanfic, my first time working on a short story, and my first time attempting to post anything on Tumblr. I really hope I don't mess up somehow, or break any unspoken rules. ⋟﹏⋞)

‹ NOV 10 › (≈ 6k) Draft 1 complete! I'm stuck so close to the ending. Might have to brainstorm a way out of this dead end...

‹ NOV 18 › (≈ 9k) Draft 2 complete! Just changed something major that'll require me to overhaul a large portion of what I wrote. Had to kill a lot of my darlings. ಥ﹏ಥ)

‹ NOV 22 › (≈ 8k) Draft 3 complete! Okay, I know the word count is going backwards, but the changes went well, I think. It's getting fun! •̀⩊•́)

‹ DEC 1 › Draft 4 started . . .

‹ DEC 2 › At this point, I feel like I'm spending more time adding to and tweaking this blog than I am writing... ಠ‿ಠ) I even made my own png/gif headers for each of my main posts. Now that I'm done setting up everything, hopefully this will be the end of my distraction lol

I didn't put any tags on any of my posts yet, though. I'm kind of scared to, lmao... I think I'll start doing that after the story is actually ready to post, so I'm not just pointing at a blog that has nothing to offer yet. ( ˙▿˙ )

‹ DEC 8 › Today marks a full month of working on this fic! The last thing I wrote today felt like a long tangent (which I honestly have no idea whether it fits the genre or not.) But at the same time I feel like it’s relevant to the plot and character dynamics… Since I have yet to finish and proofread Draft 4 as a whole, I won’t give up hope yet that it’s salvageable. ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

‹ DEC 19 › (≈ 13k) Draft 4 complete!! I'm nervous. I genuinely don't know whether it's worth posting or not. I think I might gauge that based on the reaction of my proofreaders... Who are very much biased towards me. ʕ◉ᴥ◉ʔ

For now, I'll proofread it one last time, making some final minor edits!

‹ DEC 22 › Having someone else proofread it gave me a lot of confidence! And I didn't think of it as a mystery until two people pointed it out, so it was really helpful seeing it through a new light.

I don't know how many times I've read and reread this story, at this point lol. I think right now it's as good as I'm able to get it. I got so attached to it, and to who the characters turned out to be. I can even still imagine more scenarios of what happens after the ending.

I'm so excited for people to read it! I wonder if anyone will; The thought makes me nervous... ( 〃▽〃)

I will be posting it tomorrow! ♡

⚘ pictures / gifs I associate with the story:

copyright 2022 - 2025 © pearl-neo all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize

#writing log 🏷️

[themculibrary]

Getting Together Masterlist

Breathe Deeply (ao3) - Andrea1717 bucky/steve T, 1k

Summary: Cap Steve Rogers meets Modern Bucky and falls in love.

can't help but stare lately (ao3) - the_crown_jules steve/natasha T, 1k

Summary: The scale in Nat’s mind where she stacked potential risks and rewards was starting to tip towards something. Towards him, she thought as she watched Steve sleep.

-- Nat searches for the right words.

Cool for the Summer (ao3) - Writer_Lethogica bucky/sam E, 6k

Summary: Sam Wilson likes to street race. Sam may or may not also like Bucky Barnes more than just friends.

Count On Me, I'll Count On You (ao3) - southernmedicine yelena/kate T, 2k

Summary: It has been only a matter of days since the chaos had dissipated and Clint Barton had left New York for greener pastures, toting Kate Bishop along with him for the sake of rescuing her from the still-smoldering ruins of her life.

A matter of days since an apartment and a luxury penthouse had both been left cold and vacant.

A matter of days since Yelena was left to her own devices, to sort through the wreckage of her own failed mission.

everyone wants to feel safe in the dark (ao3) - skylarkblue yelena/kate G, 4k

Summary: On a hot summer's night, Kate and Yelena share a meal. But things go south when the lights go out.

Goodbye (with promises to return) (ao3) - woamx bucky/sam G, 1k

Summary: Sam asked Bucky to stay in his childhood home with him and his sister for a while. It doesn’t last long and eventually Bucky’s leaving. Sam finds out about this and he’s not too happy about it either.

I feel like I Might (Sink and Drown and Die) (ao3) - atlas35 maria/natasha T, 2k

Summary: Tony bets that no one can get a date with Hill before the end of the month. Natasha isn't too happy with this, and she doesn't know why.

Jackpot (ao3) - WhoLetThisHappen wanda/natasha T, 7k

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has a major problem. According to Clint, she's got a "crush" on one of the hot moms from the arcade they work at. The problem being that this is... entirely true.

lawfully wedded (ao3) - holistic_alcoholic bucky/tony T, 1k

Summary:

Tony gets married.

Bucky isn't thrilled.

Love is a Ruthless Game (Unless you Play it Good and Right) (ao3) - atlas35 maria/natasha T, 1k

Summary: Maria has a thing for redheads.

SOS (Save Our Sam) (ao3) - Cobrafantasies bucky/sam G, 1k

Summary: When Sam starts dating again, he's not sure how to politely reject people being Captain America. To save him from endless bad dates, he has Bucky come rescue him.

"Sam, someone stole my arm!"

That's the next brilliant lie. Sam asked for better excuses and this is what he gets. Bucky standing at the bar without his prosthetic, pointing to the empty space as if it wasn't obvious enough he's missing a vibranium limb.

Sam's staring open-mouthed at his very dumb roommate who really thought this was a good excuse to get him out of another dreary date. Sam finally closes his mouth and frowns over at the man next to him.

"I'm so sorry, I clearly need to lend a hand here."

The Broken Shower (ao3) - Marathon_Zack_140_6 leo/jemma/daisy E, 3k

Summary: Daisy's shower is broken, but Simmons lets her borrow theirs. As one might expect, it gets out of hand.

The Icing on the Cake (ao3) - Anonymous bucky/tony G, 1k

Summary: SHORT PROMPTS 1) Diner/bakery meet-cute 2) Oblivious to courting

The Last Stand (ao3) - fantasiesdreaming layla/marc T, 78k

Summary: “Mind if I sit here?” asked a voice, its owner already settling into the space on the bench next to Marc.

“Layla,” he uttered without thinking, and shit. She had been shuffling through her bag at the edge of the table, but now she stiffened.

“Do I know you?”

------------------------------------

The precanon Marc backstory we've all been waiting for. Featuring Marc struggling to deal with his past and mental health as he meets, falls in love with, marries, and eventually leaves Layla.

The Nearness of You (ao3) - oper_1895 bucky/steve/tony T, 1k

Summary: When Steve and Bucky invite Tony up for “dinner”, Tony thinks he knows what he’s getting into. After all, It wasn’t like this was the first time he was invited to be the special guest star in a threesome.

But the evening doesn’t quite go as Tony expects. And neither does the second one.

It really shouldn’t have taken him this long to figure out that they were trying to date him.

You're The One That I Want (ao3) - Wilsonsbabe steve/sam M, 3k

Summary: Steve wants Sam to join the Avengers and move upstate to their brand-new swanky facility, curtesy of one Tony Stark – billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and occasional superhero.

He had asked Sam again last night, while the two of them ate takeout and made their way through the list of must-see movies that Sam had compiled for him. Sam had given him the same answer he's been giving him for the last three months – he needs to think about it.

OR How Steve finally convinces Sam to join the Avengers.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #gettingtogether #gettingtogether masterlist #masterlists

[rigelmejo]

Curious: has anyone tried the 10,000 sentence method to study a language? If so, how did it go for you?

Summary of it: years ago, there was a guy in the Japanese learning community who decided to learn Japanese with 10,000 sentences in anki. It was part of that wave of "all Japanese all the time" AJATT learners (which eventually I think became MIA mass immersion approach, then eventually one guy named his version Refold which is the current hot keyword to look up the related resources - which the resources alone are quite useful). The guy who did 10k sentences studied them in anki, I believe had the sentences in Japanese with audio (so fairly useful resources with natural audio from wherever he got the sentences from if it was shows or whatever he immersed in when he found a given sentence). I believe the guy took his particular sentences from his own immersion in Japanese (aka watching/reading/listening to Japanese stuff) so they were words/sentences useful for what he was interested in and would need/use specifically. The idea at that time, and with some "refold" people now, is still to make the sentences yourself as they'll contain the words/grammar YOU want to learn and will find useful to learn.

However, making your own sentences from your own study is time consuming and not convenient for everyone. That is how various pre-made anki sentence decks were born! The pre-made core 6k Japanese anki deck was widely used, as it contained 6k common words already in sentence examples with audio! Convienient! All you had to do was study it to learn a good solid foundation, and immerse regularly to get real practice identifying/using those things you studied. The pre-made Nukemarine Let's Learn Japanese memrise courses were made, which I used (and love), which were partly core 2k common words and part Tae Kim grammar guide grammar sentences and part Kanji study. Again, the idea of all these premade decks was similar to the 10k sentence idea - study common useful words/grammar in anki in sentences with audio and reading practice, then reinforce and learn to use that knowledge with immersion.

In theory, any 10k common word collection of sentences/audio would work fairly well, used this way. Whether pre-made, or made specifically by you from your own immersion materials. Once you get past 6000 words in anki (or srs study of your choice), most words you pick up will be in context in immersion anyway and probably suited to your interests in that sense. Before you've learned 6000 common words, chances are any word you specifically chose to study (add to your own personally made sentence deck) is probably one of those 6000 commonly ran into words. Especially the first 2000 words, whether you learn them from a pre-made deck or make sentences yourself, the most common words are the ones you'll run into the most and not know at first.

(I say 6000 for a few reasons as the max you'd probably learn in an srs before simply learning from context is probably the majority of your learning, and 6k-10k last sentences in anki is probably more for anki lovers who desire to keep drilling sentences. Because with a language close to English like French, an English speaker could get by with 2000 sentences then learn everything else from context and cognates in immersion. For a distant language like Japanese, it takes more common words learned before new words become clear in meaning from context since you have less cognates and grammar similarity to help you figure out new words. So usually 5000-6000 common words is enough for a very different language to finally know a majority of words in sentences you see, and after which point you may have finally noticed the target language's word-construction patterns and can use that to help you guess future new words from context. And then in the long term, 9000-10,000 words is how many you want to know to feel fully comfortable in the language. I feel after 6k common words at max, you can probably get the rest of the way to 10k words learned from immersion context alone and no more srs flashcards unless you love flashcards. At 2k words or less, depending on How Similar the target language is to yours. That's also why 9000 pages read is often recommended - it's said if you read that much, you'll eventually learn 9000+ words from reading and finally have the vocabulary needed to read and feel as easy as if you were reading in your native language.)

Back to the point: the maker of the 10k sentence method made his own study sentences, and studied them in addition to daily immersion in Japanese. It worked for him. After him, many a person did the pre-made 6k core anki deck version of this plan. Or similar pre-made plans. (Refold currently does a pre-made Tango deck of 1-2k words then encourages making your own sentence deck).

Has anyone done this method into the 6k-10k sentences range? How did it go for you? How far did it take your ability to comprehend and use the language?

#rant #question #studyblr #10k sentences #10000 sentences #in theory id imagine any 10k sentences with mostly common words #in audio and text form. would work mostly close to as well as the core 6k deck did for people #which mm. is technically Clozemaster. (with the caveat that clozemaster is machine audio #and the best decksfor this would be natural audio) #Chinese Spoonfed anki deck with its 7k sentences is also this method. so if you comoleted that anki deck let me know please?