#(he doesn't know this is his future self yet but there is that bond of trust and familiarity. If anything it will take him awhile to proces

[pendwelling]

okay i really need spoiler for this

When will jess stop shiping Ogmc and ml?

And will ml tell him about his though? It's just bothering me for a while now im at ch140 and nothing seems like improving between mc and ml

(Not cris making fun of cedie its so funny but now i can't take it anymore😭)

I'm not sure if this is the answer you're looking for, because to answer it would mean to first and foremost analyze the character of Jung Yeseo haha. TWSB, unexpectedly, is so much more if you look past the veneer of silliness and comedy, and it intentionally does that at the beginning of the story to lure you into a false kinda sense of security, but also because of how Yeseo, as a character, influences the narrative voice and atmosphere of the story.

I'd like to first of all point out that a large part of why Jung Yeseo is so fixated on Christelle and Cédric's relationship stems primarily because of his sister and the original novel. Subconsciously, as well as very consciously yet deeply buried within him in a sort of self-preservation tactic, Yeseo is very aware of the fact that his life has been transported into a novel. While he doesn't display it in every chapter, he is also HEAVILY plagued with homesickness and a yearning to return back to his siblings. In his mind, the universe being a Rofan means that the World naturally revolves around Christelle and Cédric, and thus they're blossoming "romance". The story cannot be completed if they do not get together—and them getting together is also important, because above all else, this is JUNG EUNSEO's favourite story, and a part of Yeseo knows this very well, and his sister's beloved story isn't exactly something that he should meddle with. The characters' happiness is in a way tied to his sister's happiness (and there's kinda a lot to be said about this but anyhow I'll move on—)

In the initial parts of the story, Yeseo still has to fully come to terms either the fact that he's not /just/ in a novel, anymore. It is his current reality. But at the same time, it is blazingly obvious to him that there are also subtle outside forces that keep bringing him and the other protagonists together, so he resigns himself to the pull of "fate" and the "narrative", justifying it as such bc, well, he's in a novel.

Gradually, however, Yeseo DOES, in fact, get to know these "characters" better, and thus, sees them as their own people, separate from the fictional archetypes that he's only heard a bit about from his sister—whose words are rule, since they were literally the only point of reference for Yeseo who has never read a single word of QPB. As Yeseo grows closer with both Cédric and Christelle, he grows to learn more about them, and their personalities, and their traumas, worries, dreams, ambitions.....

"Cédric Riester" and "Christelle de Sarnez" no longer remain as "characters" to him, but real-life people whom he loves, cares, and worries about. Through all their struggles, trials, an adventures, they grow an indescribable bond that brings them closer than ever. Yeseo cares about them, worries about their future, and above all else, wishes for their HAPPINESS. The happiness is a big thing here, because Yeseo, also, is distantly aware of the constantly overhanging fruit that is:

HE DOES NOT BELONG THERE.

No matter how close he becomes with the people of QPB, there is nothing that could ever change the fact that at the end of the day, his ultimate goal has always been "return home to my family". Even when he loves his friends dearly, he will always and forever want to be with his siblings, and a big part of the story is Jung Yeseo coming to terms with his love for his siblings is both his driving force AS WELL AS the very thing holding him back.

In a way, you can interpret Yeseo constantly hoping for Christelle and Cédric to get together as his way of reassuring himself that, when he leaves them, they would at the very least have each other to rely on. Throughout the story, Yeseo expresses several times concern over Cédric and his future, hoping whenever he can that when Cédric ascends as Emperor of Riester (presumably, once Yeseo leaves to go back to his family), Cédric would have an entourage of people who genuinely care for and support him, even if Yeseo is not there. He does this with looking at the people around them and wondering how they might fit into Cédric's support net. Élisabeth as his bestfriend and future head of the Imperial Guard; Johann as a Cardinal Holy Knight and his teacher. Jibril Diop as a combat mage and a surprising fit for a future Prime Minister, etc etc. And naturally, Christelle as his Political Companion, and hopefully, just a close partner in general, whether it be romantic or not at all. Christelle and Cédric are most often his targets of "shipping" because they are just, plain and simple, his closest companions in that world who he worries about the absolute most, and who just so happened to have been a couple in another world. To Yeseo, that's enough of a reassurance that they will support each other, be there for each other, open up and be their rock and hill—even long after he is gone.

Of course, thankfully, this dilemma of "belonging and not belonging" and choosing one family over the other gets resolved masterfully by the author, so in the end, these worries of Yeseo are finalized in a way that makes you feel content with the outcome of everything. Both he and the readers no longer worry about leaving anyone behind. They managed to fight against the forces of the narrative and stay together. In the end, that's all that matters—Yeseo reunited with his siblings. Yeseo, Cédric, and Christelle get to stay together. It doesn't truly matter in what way, only that it was POSSIBLE, and that they fought tooth and nail for it to BE possible.

So yeah, haha, Yeseo will continue having these small delusions of them getting together (defence and coping mechanisms disguised as recurring gags), but he does come to realize that his friends are MORE than just their original character settings. But it doesn't stop him from hoping that they all genuinely find happiness—and he also realizes, eventually, that both Cédric and Christelle's happiness involves him, too.

Please do not worry. The character and relationship development in TWSB is truly masterfully written. I understand that it might appear slow to some readers, but in the end, when you reach that final chapter of the main story and look back at where it all started, you truly realize just how far all of these characters have come and how they've changed. TWSB is the kind of story that you cannot just take at face value, even if it initially presents itself as a simple, comedic, feel-good healing novel. It's so much more than that, and the first 100 chapters are really only dipping your toes into what it has to offer. Things start picking up when it gets to the real core of the story, but it must first go through the foreshadowing foundations disguised as silly inconspicuous things.

But anyhow, I hope this made sense haha... Jung Yeseo's shipping gag is truthfully more than just a gag when you analyze it closely in according to his goals and anxieties. I hope this was able to soothe some of your worries in any way!

[ofthetardis]

There was something oddly familiar about this person, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Not yet, anyway. Despite it, the Doctor at least felt he could trust him and that they would mean no harm. Glancing them over, he did as he usually did with a new face, bringing out his bag of Jelly Babies. "Hello there, I'm the Doctor. It's a pleasure to meet you. Would you like a Jelly Baby?"

@cosmicangsts liked for a starter with Four!

[louvebutbrainrot]

SVSSS except both Shen Jiu & Yuan know about the future

SY transmigrates except he does it earlier, just before he becomes CQ sect disciple. He still has the system and it insists on starting a tedious task of becoming a head disciple.

Except a few years later (2-3?) arrives SJ and the system shuts down (it's connected, but SY doesn't know that yet) and so SY gets to decide some things for himself (it's kind of too late to back from trying to become Peak Lord, because let's be honest - SY has too thin face to suddenly lie shamelessly about not becoming one, when he was already halfway there).

Why does the system shuts down? Well - the thing is that SJ remembers his life (or the life he lived that went according to novel).

SJ doesn't remember everything, only as far as things went till the start of his process in Huan Hua sect, but that is enough. Cue SJ deciding to either kill Binghe as soon as he sets his foot on CQM or hunt him that even before it, after he is born.

So yeah, everything is nice and all, SJ does make some things for himself better, knowing the future (his meridians aren't as hopeless as they were before), but there is one thing that isn't quite checking out - who is this head disciple that shares similar surname to his (Shen, but different characters)? How? SJ would remember him from his previous life - cue SJ trying to figure SY out, what his deal is, while the other is vibing. As in - SY decides to become Peak Lord and either give Binghe to someone else or snatch him and finds himself quite enjoying learning about all these cool things? He has a fellow transmigrator (initially SQH is at first confused by this character he didn't make up), a cool friend from Bai Zhan Peak (LQG is smitten) and all is good as long as he manages to somehow deal with SQQ - but the other doesn't seem to be anywhere? What the hell?

But he does meet the boy called SJ. They do seem to hit it off quite nicely - they both love reading and criticizing the heck out of them. They bond. Somehow. (SY finds SJ charming the way feral cats are since his self-preservation skills are what they are, it's instant deal; SJ begrudgingly grows fond of SY and since the latter doesn't seem to be aware of the future - all the references go over SY head, since they refer to things not in the book - he opts to simply protect the other from the beast).

And then they both become Peak Lords and it all comes together - like what the hell - SJ is SQQ? How is SY supposed to do in that situation? Anyone, please send help - SY is in crisis.

Tbc

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

An Altar For Our Sins

Part 9 // Masterlist

Warnings (18+): Nightmares (Billy’s past, and flashes of his attempted assault), angst, murder, torture, smut, oral, thigh riding, choking, bondage, use of dilators, tail kink, facials, cum swallowing, talks of body insecurity.

A/N: It's been a while but trust me this is worth it.

You’re reclined beside the pool, watching him as he carefully mixes drinks.

He moves with careless precision, easy, fast, as if he’d done it a million times before.

Something twists inside of you, arousal, followed by a deep warning.

This was the man that wanted to corrupt you.

To tarnish your morals, turn you into something you’d never seen before.

You wanted to let him.

You wanted to be every dark thing, you ached to be threads in his hands, to be created- or rather recreated by him. You wanted to be his medium, and allow him the moment to be the artist.

You adjust your body, covered by a fluffy robe, a modest bikini underneath. You’d been feeling a little self conscious as your cycle rolled around, the uncomfortable bloating was familiar around this time, making you feel exposed, even under the thick robe.

Yet still, you found yourself wanting him

The beach chair was reclined at a comfortable angle, the umbrella above sheltering you from the occasional sun.

With your eyes on him, watching him work quietly, cutting a wedge of orange for your glass, you lift one side of your robe carefully, pulling it open.

He pauses, knife halfway into the orange.

The corner of your lip twitches, reaching at the bond between you, flooding it with your arousal for him.

You watch his shoulders lift as he heaves in a large breath.

He hasn’t looked at you yet, and you know he’s going to try his best to seem unaffected, because reminding him of your power over him, makes him want to assert his power over you that much more.

It’s a fight you know is coming, somewhere in your future, where maybe you’ll pull at him, and he’ll pull back.

You push the other side of your robe off your body and he doesn’t react, you watch him pour your drink into a tall glass, garnish it with the orange slice and some cherries and turn to you.

You smile as he approaches, placing the drinks on the table beside you before fitting himself into your seat, angling his body so that you’re facing each other with no substantial space between you.

You hum, pressing your face against his clothed chest humming.

“You smell like oranges, Billy.” You take another deep breath, captivated by the smell, pressing your face deeper, “You smell so good.”

They really do smell delicious, the citrus filling your nose, flooding the back of your throat.

He raises a hand to cup your cheek, the heavy fragrance of it clinging to his hands. It makes you feel impossibly euphoric, and you don’t really understand why.

You look up at him, his dark eyes on you, he leans forward a little and you close your eyes, expecting a kiss.

“Careful.” He says softly, “You're playing with fire.”

You groan internally, excitement warming over your skin, clenching around nothing, your arousal being pushed down your bond unintentionally. 

You feel his fingers twitch against your cheek.

You open your eyes, looking up at him, finding the same desire in him that you feel.

“Does ‘fire’ want me to suck his cock?” You offer cheekily, blinking slowly at him in what you hope is a seductive way.

His expression is stern, but you simmer with delight as you feel his arousal returned through your bond. Like a hand, sliding over your skin, you grin at him when you realise he's not as unaffected as he tries to seem.

He doesn't say a word, instead his hand drifts over your shoulder, down to settle on your hip.

“You're such a little brat.” He hums, and you laugh, leaning into his chest.

After a moment, you feel him tug at the robe.

“Aren't you warm?” He asks.

Truthfully you were a little, but God, your body did not want to cooperate with you today.

“I'm alright.” You hum lightly.

“You're lying.” He informs matter-of-factly.

You make a frustrated grunt. Cursing the bond.

“Bloated,” you try to explain quickly, “I just feel out of it today. I might have gained weight.”

“I don't understand the problem.” He says, his tail snaking around you to keep you close.

“Just uncomfortable in my skin, it happens sometimes.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

You smile fondly.

“I'll be okay, I just feel a little insecure about my body, you know?”

“Not really.”

You look curiously up at him.

“You've never felt self conscious about the way you look?”

He thinks back for a moment, before shaking his head.

“I've never had to worry about it, my whole human life I'd always been told how good I looked.”

“Lucky bitch.” You say with mock spite.

He lets out a breath of amusement.

“I think I was more insecure about my wealth back then, none of it was ever enough. I'd be dressed as nicely as everyone else and still feel like I didn't belong.”

You reach out to squeeze his hand in comfort. There really was no way to reassure him. You couldn't even tell him his life was better now, he was literally a demon from Hell.

You wanted to tell him that he belonged with you now, but maybe the reminder of his ownership wouldn't help.

“Growing up,” You offer, “literally everyone had something to say about my body. I was either too skinny at one point, too chubby, too muscular, my thighs were too thick, my stomach- honestly the judgement carried out on women's bodies is ridiculous.”

He nods beside you, raising a hand to run his fingers over your cheek.

“The judgement is awful,” he agrees, “but I hope you know that you've always looked beautiful to me.”

You give him a thankful smile.

“And you, have always been the most powerful man in the room to me.”

You feel your stomach flip, it makes your smile grow wider.

“I'm not more powerful than you though.”

You glance away, looking at the shimmering pool.

“Well, if you wanted to be, I'd let you.”

He grips your chin, turning your head back so that your eyes meet his.

“What do you mean by that?”

You swallow, voice barely above a whisper.

“If you grew tired of me, and wanted your freedom, I'd give it to you.”

His grip on your chin tightens.

“Are you saying you'd die for me to be free?”

You blink, a slow incline of your head.

“I'd rather die than force you to be here if you didn't want to.”

He takes a moment, looking for the right words, trying to read you like words on a page.

“That's your insecurity talking,” he says, a minuscule amount of anger curls at the base of your spine, “There's no universe where I don't want you. Serving you for the rest of my life would be a privilege, mistress.”

You let out a shaky breath, pushing your body up so that your mouth meets his.

Your lips blister with the sparks of his touch, arousal swelling like a wave, desire pulling at you, grabbing at your ankles to take you in its current.

He sits up, hovering over you, eyes ablaze with fiery passion.

He tugs at your robe and it evaporates in a puff of purple, you gasp as your body gets the cool air it's been needing.

You look at him, as his eyes look over you, studying your body, wrapped in the modest swimsuit.

You watch his tongue dart out, licking slowly at his bottom lip, a strand of hair threatening to fall between his eyes.

“You are very, very beautiful.” He finally says.

You feel your nether regions pulse at his words, willing him to say more through the bond, trying your best not to look down, to shy away.

He leans in, hands gripping at your thighs, squeezing the flesh of your hips.

“I'm so glad you're made the way you are.”

A seed of hope settles within you.

“Why?” You ask.

“Because it's your body, and your body is perfect, but also…” He trails off.

You push yourself into a sitting position expectantly.

“Yeah?”

He gives you a dangerous grin, leaning in till his nose touches yours.

“I can fuck you, however hard I want, and you won't break so easily.”

Your mouth parts in surprise, going dry, so much desire packed into your head, making you feel like you're swimming in cotton.

“Does this mean you're going to start teaching me how to take you?”

He takes a sharp breath, eyes going ruby red in the span of seconds.

“Yes,” he says on impulse, his cock, rock hard and aching, “let me give you your first lesson right now.”

He grips your hips, switching your positions until you're straddling his midriff.

“Get naked for me.” He orders, and you obey, stepping away from him to eagerly peel your suit from your skin. When you turn back, you find that he's lost his shirt and his pants, his cock standing up in the open air.

Your mouth waters.

“C-can I-”

“-No.”

You pout.

He gives you a sharp grin.

“Come sit.” He says, patting his thigh.

You swallow nervously, approaching him, trying to figure out his plan of action.

When you get close enough, he reaches to grip your hips, he kisses your stomach before guiding your knee over his body until you're straddling him, his cock fitting snugly between your thighs.

You stiffen for a brief moment, a little worried that he would enter you before you were ready.

“I'm not-”

“-I know,” you cut him off with an apologetic smile, able to read him, understand him so easily now with almost no effort, “It’s only a reflex.” 

He lets out a soft breath, raising a hand to smooth the tips of his fingers across your cheek, you close your eyes as you feel the tingles spread across your face.

“That's the first lesson. Don't be scared of taking me.”

You blink several times, refocusing on him, trying to figure out how he could possibly know something like that. 

You'd never given it a name, or even thought about it, but you were scared, scared of letting someone in, scared of the pain it might cause.

He holds your hips, pushing them back a fraction, to pull them forward again, your mouth drops open as pleasure erupts from between your legs as his cock glides against your sensitive centre.

“I know you, mistress, I can feel that small touch of fright everytime I get too close. I want it gone. I want you to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” you pant as he continues rocking your hips, “It's just a little bit of paranoia kicking in, my brain just makes me worry about the ‘what ifs’”

“I understand sweetheart, but if you're taking me, and you get scared, it'll only make you hurt worse. So I need you to trust me, I need you to relax for me. I need you to understand that I'd choose Hell over having you be afraid of me.”

You groan, tipping your head back, your hips beginning to undulate on their own.

“Good, mistress, rub that little pussy on my cock, don’t worry about anything else.”

“Feels s’good.” You whisper, doing more and gasping in surprise when the tip of his cock bumps your clit.

“Yeah?” His hands tighten their grip, “You like using me, mistress? Do you think you can cum like this?”

You're not even sure if the answer is yes, but you nod anyway, with Billy, anything is possible.

His hands on your thighs, over your hips, you hear him grunt, feeling an immeasurable amount of want in the back of your head.

“You’re so fucking soft,” He grits out, hands gliding up to cup your breasts gently in each hand, “Every part of you is divine.” 

You whine, aching for more of his praise, wondering, if his words are more effective than your motions are.

You beg him silently to continue.

His fingertips brush your shoulder, trails down your arm.

“Every time I look at you, I’m thinking about how much I enjoy touching you, and tasting you, and feeling your perfect body shudder and shake. Those sweet eyes, begging me, always fucking begging me- “ You feel him tremble below you, before his fingers grip the flesh of your behind firmly, manipulating your hips into moving faster, the head of his cock gliding right over your entrance, a surge of bliss washing through you with such suddenness that your back straightens in surprise.

The temptation of being full of him, the nearness of this sinful act, feels euphoric, pleasure filling your head as he catches on the rim of your cunt for just a moment. You whine, wanting to hear him speak more, no fear in your body as he glides easily between your legs, your arousal coating his cock evenly.

“You have no idea how desperate you make me,” Billy continues, almost rambling, your soft cunt eager on his cock, he feels himself throb, body begging, unable to get what it wants.

“Nothing will stop me from having you, nothing will keep me away.” He grits. “I don’t care how long it takes, or whatever changes. You’re mine. This thick, perfect body is mine. You belong to me, and I am going to relish claiming you when the time is right.”

He comes at the same time you do, ropes of his own spend splashing against his lower abdomen and all between your thighs and cunt. You gasp, looking down at the mess you’ve made, feeling it smeared onto your body, shared fluids mixing together between your thighs as you both breathe heavily in an attempt to catch your breath.

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, watching his cum be wasted like this. You swipe a shaky finger through the mess, bringing it up to your lips. He groans as he watches you taste the evidence of his pleasure, sitting up suddenly till you're face to face. 

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you. There's never been any doubt to me, of how beautiful you are, mistress.” You look into his dark eyes as his hand comes up to cup your cheek. You swallow, hypnotized by the depth of the emotion in his eyes, feeling it seep into you, intoxicated by him.

Your eyes flutter closed as you lean in, vulnerable to him, unable to stop until your mouth meets his.

Your demon.

You smile against his mouth, something… something you can't put words to enveloping every sense you have, his kiss, mouth melding perfectly with yours until you swear that all you can feel is him.

You break the kiss with a gasp, head against his chest, a hum of satisfaction leaves you.

His tail loops around your waist, keeping you still, your naked bodies pressed tightly to each other. You tug at the bond, and you smile when he gives his own pull in response.

“I'm glad you're here with me, Billy- and I know that sounds selfish, you've been through so much- but just the thought of us never meeting each other-” you cut off with a frown, not wanting to make it seem like you were happy that he went through what he did.

“I'm- I'm glad we met.” You murmur finally, looking up at him apologetically for your words.

He lets out a slow breath of amusement, watching you stumble over your words.

“You're acting as though you haven't suffered as well. Suffering is a part of life, mistress, Hell is everywhere. Some people suffer through life and never get close to what you and I have.”

The words are hard to say, but you manage to find the strength.

“What do we have?” You ask cautiously, hoping to hear him echo your own feelings.

He breathes, wrapping his arms tightly around you, crushing your body to his.

“Each other.” Is his simple response.

.

Each other.

You smile, the words echo in your head. Beside you, he sleeps soundly, one arm over his middle, your legs tangled together beneath the sheets. 

You sigh, curling into him, wishing you could sort through the chaos in your head. All the things that have happened, the things that brought him to you. You were not happy they occurred, but you wouldn't change anything, if it meant you would lose him. How could you hate your past and be glad it happened? It was a very strange place to be.

If they had summoned any other demon, you would be dead or worse now. 

Instead? 

You sigh, half asleep and reaching for him in your head.

Instead you were here, warm and safe and protected from anything the universe could throw your way. All because of the man, the demon, sleeping in bed beside you.

“You're one pretty kid.” a gruff voice says. 

You gasp, eyes springing open. You're not in bed anymore, standing in the doorway of a locker room, a little boy a few feet in front of you. You can see his face in the mirror, one of confusion and mild fear. 

Beside him, a man places a hand on his shoulder. It looks affectionate at first, but you soon realise that there’s no love there, only perversion.

You take a step forward, wanting to separate the figures from each other. You move faster when you see the man's hand raise to cup the boy's face. No matter how fast you move, you're still in the same spot and after a few moments, you stop, realising that you're not getting anywhere. 

Everything flashes next, like a video game with a low frame rate you see flashes of the boy being advanced upon, watching him fight back and hold his own for a few moments, before the man finally gets angry.

You scream when the boy is thrown to the ground, fighting whatever force holds you back, trying to get to the little boy, his blood splashed on various items around the room. When the man is done, he simply washes his hands and leaves. It's only then, that you're allowed entry into the scene you're watching.

You get to the little boy, lying on the ground, just as he shifts, and your breath stutters in your throat as he turns into the man you know today, right before your eyes.

“Billy?” You whisper in horror.

He sits up, his eyes have gone fully black, blood still splashed on his mouth and hands, face already bruising from his previous ordeal.

He stands, not sparing a glance at you, he stalks out of the room.

You follow, unsure of what's happening but knowing you were safest with your demon, regardless of whether he could see you or not.

The man is older now, when Billy grabs the back of his shirt and lifts him as though he weighs nothing, you note that his hair has slivered and his skin has wrinkled.

Billy's voice is rough, angry, he presses the man against a wall, fingers around his neck.

“How many?” He asks, the horns on his head getting larger, his nails getting sharper.

The man's face goes red, he kicks and cries, eyes wide as he watches Billy's demonic face.

His nails sink slowly into the man's neck. You gasp, turning away, unable to look at the horrors happening.

You hear it, the screams, the gushing of blood. Your breathing speeds up, you raise your hands to cover your ears as the sound echoes, multitudes of screams fill your ears, panic in your heart, wishing you were home, away from all of this pain and suffering around you.

You say his name, a quiet whimper, wanting your demon more than anything.

Hands wrap around your wrists, forcing your hands from your ears, you look up with tear blurred vision, to find a terrifying version of your demon looking back.

“Wake up.” He says to you, his voice cutting through the multitudes.

You gasp awake, sitting up, heart racing in your chest. Beside you, he sits up too, making you jump in surprise.

He looks normal now, no trace of the terrifying demon from before, you gasp loudly, struggling to breathe.

“What the hell-” You gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts.

His hand brushes your arm, you jerk in surprise, turning to look at him. He blinks, drawing back, feeling rejected by you. 

You grab his hand before he can retract it all the way, you find difficulty in speaking, shoving your tumultuous feelings down the bond so that he knows none of it is directed towards him.

He blinks, inclines his head in understanding, keeps his hand in yours.

Your heart is still racing, trying to understand what you've just seen, wondering how you've seen it.

“Did all of that really happen?” You ask softly.

“Mostly.” 

“That kid… that was you.”

“Yeah.”

You turn to look at him. He looks back with cautious vulnerability, an expression that you can tell is hanging on to your every word.

“That's why too much attention makes you uncomfortable. Those scars on your shoulder-”

He nods, confirming your suspicions.

Your face twists into one of pain, eyebrows drawn, mouth curved into a frown. You lean in, wrap your arms around your demon’s shoulders and you squeeze tightly.

He lets out a puff of air, hands wrapped around your waist to crush your body to his.

Your hand grips the back of his head, fingers carding through his soft hair, you turn your head, kissing his cheek, his temple, trying to apologise to him for something you didn't do.

You don't know what to say to him, what will make this better, you know that he's probably thought about everything you could possibly say.

Still, you have to say something, knowing that he has to hear it from someone that's not himself.

“I'm sorry.” Is what you finally settle on.

Muffled into your neck, he shakes his head.

“It's okay.”

“It's not. You didn't deserve that, no one does. I'm sorry it happened.”

He's quiet for a long moment.

“For a long while, I really thought I did deserve it.”

You feel a sharp pain spear into your heart at the thought, you squeeze him tighter. 

“You were just a kid.” You whisper, voice cracking, “You were so small, you couldn't be more than ten. This was not your fault.”

You feel the anger overtake you next.

“Did you kill him?”

He says your name softly, and through the bond, you feel his reservation to disclose details that might unsettle you. 

“Tell me, demon. I won't run.”

“When I was older, he passed me in the street, didn't recognize me. My left shoulder doesn't settle properly and he didn’t even remember my face.” 

“I broke in, waited for him to see me, for him to remember who I was, but he'd done it so many times all the faces of his victims blurred together. I shoved a bat through his chest, and when I found him in Hell, I didn't have any mercy.” 

You bend your head, kissing the first piece of him you can get to- his horn- his hands tighten around you.

“I'm proud of you.” You say into his ear, and you feel him shudder, warmth wrapping around your spine, feeling him reach for you, and eagerly, you reach back.

What do you and I have, demon?

We have each other.

.

In the morning, after a luxurious breakfast in a pile of pillows on the jetty, you lie beside him, sated and full, finally finding the willpower to ask the questions you've been wanting to ask.

“Last night, how did I see those things?”

He breathes out a slow breath of air.

“You were in my dreams.” 

You blink, deep in thought.

“How did I get there?”

He makes an amused sound.

“Hell if I know, mistress. This thing between us, I've never had one for this long. I don't know how far it can go.”

You look up into his dark eyes, tugging playfully at the link you share until the corner of his mouth twitches, and you feel your pull reciprocated. 

“Do you think- could we visit Father Matt again? Just to see what he knows?” 

Something burns in your chest, the feeling is sour, similar to the symptoms of acid reflux.

“We don't have to.” You clarify, figuring that this sensation wasn't your own, but belonged to your demon.

“No, we should, he might have books on demonology that could help.”

You give him an apologetic smile, leaning to kiss his cheek softly.

“That's my good demon.” You praise.

You hear his deep intake of breath, and when you peek at his face, his eyes have gone full black, veins of dark blood spread from his eyes, fizzling out across his face.

“Mistress.” He says roughly, His voice having dropped a few octaves, a deep and unfamiliar sound that makes your lips part in surprise. It's a warning, you realise, that you've said something to elicit such a potent reaction.

It reminds you of the dream, of the way he looked- a monstrous version of himself.

He turns his head to study you, your heart pounding faster in your chest as you feel an enormous amount of arousal seep into you through the bond.

Your nether regions warm in response, eager to push his limits, to really see his full demonic capabilities.

“Which part of that excited you?” You whisper softly, aching for friction between your thighs, “That I called you good, or that I called you mine?”

He growls, a deep grovelling sound that leaves his throat, one of frustration, of endless desire, of warning. 

Both, you assume, when the black veins worsen, spreading down his neck and into his shirt. 

You study the beautiful veining, the way they spread like branches of a tree over his skin, you bite down on your bottom lip, excitement beating in your heart.

“You like being good for me?” You ask, reaching up to tug the collar of his shirt down, examining the veins further.

He doesn't answer, breaths laboured, his hands curling into fists, fighting himself.

You reach down, gripping one of his hands to bring it to rest on the space below your ass, skin simmering with delight at the feel of his hot hand.

“Answer me demon.” You prod.

He grunts, tipping his head back, closing his eyes.

“If you don't stop. I'm going to ruin that little cunt.” He warns.

“You don't scare me.” Your voice holds a hint of defiance, “You're always telling me that I'm the most powerful person in the room. You're my demon, and I want an answer.”

His eyes open, zeroing in on you, he reaches for you with his free hand, tangling it into your hair, pulling you forward until you're practically in his lap.

“Call me your demon one more time.” He growls, “I dare you.”

You swallow, having never tormented him in this way, excited to see where this would get you.

With your cunt achingly wet, you lick your lips.

“Fine.” You say softly, with an appearance of giving up. You pull from his hold, rising to your feet. He watches you carefully, no doubt that he can feel the mischievousness hidden beneath the surface of your skin.

Standing on the jetty, the sea breeze blowing through your hair, you begin to walk away. When you're almost to solid ground, you turn back with a grin.

“You're my demon, Billy Russo!” You shout, to be heard over the din of the ocean. 

You expect him to stand and chase you, but when you turn to run from him, you gasp in surprise as you crash right into him.

It's so much worse now, the veins have spread to cover his hands, and you wonder absentmindedly if they've spread over his cock too.

He looms over you, somehow feeling significantly larger than you, even in this open space. 

His breaths are laboured, and when he parts his lips, you catch a hint of sharp canines.

This, was the demon you'd seen in your dreams.

You take a step back hesitantly, you can feel the phantom touch of his arousal moving around you, your skin sensitive and warm, sparking at your desire in response.

“Where are you going, mistress?” He reaches for you, gripping your hips in his hands to bring you closer. You look up at him with wide eyes, feeling so deliciously trapped.

“Your demon wants to play.” He taunts, his voice sending trills through your heart. He dips his head, and you realise what he wants, rising onto your toes in response, angling your head upward, eager to kiss this version of him.

You think it's going to be aggressive, but it starts slow, your lips moving gently against his, feeling the desire grow inside of you till you're reaching up to cup the back of his neck.

It's what he's waiting for, he makes a hum of approval before you feel his influence wrap around you, the air going from breezy to still, the sound of crashing waves changes to one of falling rain.

You draw back, finding that he's back to his normal self, dark brown eyes, rosy skin, free of black veins.

He watches you as you look around next, mouth dropping open in surprise as you take in the surroundings.

There's a very large telescope elevated behind Billy, pointing up at the glass domed roof. It's night here, and through the murky glass, you can just barely make out the ripples of cascading rain on glass. There’s one area of the roof that's got heavy plaster smeared on, no doubt sealing the roof from ever opening for the telescope again. 

There are candles spotted throughout the room that helps you see all of this, and when you turn, you gasp in shock at the beautiful sight before you. 

What catches your eye first is the circle of stained glass, your heart squeezing at the resplendent scene it depicts. Fractals of blue glass, every shade you've ever seen, compiled to form an image of the night sky, interspotted with yellow glass to represent stars, and an ivory, almost pearlescent circle to symbolise the moon.

On the outskirts of the mural, are swirling yellow pieces of glass, indicating that within the glass piece, the sun is nearby. The mural is large, and where it ends, the art continues on in coloured tile intermittently dispersed throughout the walls and floor. 

You don't get a chance to study that, because at the base of the stained glass, a bed, draws your attention next.

It's low to the floor, set into a circular wooden frame, surrounded by flickering candles. 

Dark green sheets, you giggle when you feel his hands snake around you, his lips finding their way to your neck.

“Do you bring all your mistresses here?” You tease.

He rumbles in disagreement.

“Only the ones that call me theirs.”

You huff out a laugh, heart full, swaying as he continues to kiss your skin.

“What is this place?” You ask softly, staring at the glass, in the dark, you can’t see anything more.

“It was part of a monastery nearby, back when they studied the heavens in an attempt to understand God. If the rain stops, you can probably hear their singing echo through the mountains.”

You let out a soft sigh.

“And they just forgot about it? That's terrible. Look at this place.”

He hums in agreement.

“It's actually one of the more spiritual places on earth. There are a couple, but this one has been gladly lost to time and reclaimed by the forest.”

“Why here?” 

He's silent for a long time.

“Before you, this was the closest I'd thought I'd get to heaven.”

You lips part, you turn your head to meet his eyes.

“What? Me?” You whisper, almost afraid to say the words out loud in fear that he comes to his senses and takes them back.

He turns you, hands gripping your shoulders tightly, all calm touches lost to desperation.

“You.” He confirms, tucking his fingers under your chin to tip your head up.

The kiss that follows makes your knees weak, you cling to him, gasping as your mouth works against his, feverish kisses that stop you from thinking, his tail wrapping around your thigh to keep you close like it always does.

It's familiar, but brand new, you can feel the way his need burns inside of him, like a fire that won't go out, it sparks yours, and feeds into his, like vicious and consuming cycle.

You make it to the bed next, trapped below him, his mouth never leaving yours, you're not sure how you got here, but you're not complaining.

Moaning into his mouth, you push your body into a sitting position, feeling the bed dips as he adjusts his body to sit beside you. 

His thumb presses into the side of your mouth, hooks against your teeth, pulling your jaw open. 

He pauses, stares at you for a moment while your tongue drags along the tip of his tongue.

You’re on the brink of insanity, you feel so intertwined with him, body crying out for any bit of him that it can get.

He slots his thumb between your teeth, your eyes falling shut as you breathe heavily around the appendage, sighing easily when he delves his rough tongue into your mouth.

All you can do is take, enjoy the feeling, unable to really reciprocate. 

It’s messy, barely a kiss and more of an enjoyment of your surrender to him.

“Tell me again.” He hums, slipping his thumb from your mouth, holding your jaw in place purposefully. You blink slowly, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“Say those words to me again.”

“My demon.” You say easily, looking up at him.

You watch his eyes go black once more.

He slides to his knees in front of you, reaching up to tug your bottoms off, you lift your hips to let it happen.

“Need to taste you, mistress.” He mumbles, as if it explains his feverish movement. 

He kisses the inside of your knee when he finally gets your legs bare, sighing in bliss each time his mouth meets your skin.

“You’re so soft. I love it. I never want to stop touching you.” 

You groan his name, his words melting right into your heart.

He knows what he's doing, praising you relentlessly because he likes the feeling of your reaction to it, a warmth spreading out from the deepest parts of himself.

His hands squeeze gently at your thighs, enraptured by the feeling against his palms.

Leaning closer, his warm breath tickling your mound, you shiver when he kisses the inside of your thigh.

“So good for me.” He praises, grins when he feels your reaction, “You're so beautiful.”

You shudder out a breath.

Reaching down, you grip his horn with a groan, trying to urge him into moving faster.

He accepts your guidance, you part your legs wider for him to fit between them, and after a moment, he guides your legs over his shoulders.

“My mistress.” He rumbles, dark eyes flitting to you before he presses his mouth flush to your cunt.

You feel his delight, tilting your head back, gasping at the level of enjoyment he feels. 

His tongue slides against your clit, sparks erupting in your head, you feel your body fall back onto the soft bed, a boneless mess.

He pauses, chuckling, retracting his body so that he can shift you, adjusting you till your head is pressed against the soft pillows, looking up at the curved ceiling.

His head pops into your vision, chest bare, he must have taken his shirt off at some point.

“Comfortable?” He asks softly.

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding.

“Good,” he leans in to give you a quick kiss, “Enjoy.”

Your shirt disappears in a flash of purple, his mouth descending on your shoulders.

It's amazing, the way he feels, the delight coursing through his body as he touches you, the way it makes you more sensitive, makes you feel so much more desirable.

He trails soft kisses down your body, until he's back between your thighs, mouth exploring the most intimate parts of you.

It feels too good, you grip the sheets as his tongue works over you, kissing, licking, wet sounds of his tongue reaching your ears along with the sound of falling rain.

When you get too close to the edge, you sit up, making him pause and look up at you from between your thighs.

“I'm not ready to come yet.” You whisper, aching to prolong the feeling of this, the way you feel him and the way he makes you feel yourself.

He smiles in understanding, dipping his head, slows the pace of his tongue, explores you instead, delves into the most primal parts of you.

You tremble, the yearning so intense that your body shakes, and yet you close your eyes, and feel him, the demon between your thighs and the delight that fills him, the devotion.

You cry his name, feel tears slip from your eyes at the intensity of everything, your body aching for release while your mind demands you feel every second of denial.

You're everywhere, all at once, expanding from one singular point, he moves your legs over his shoulders, hands wrapping around your hips to hold your body tight to his face, cunt pressed flush to his eager mouth, the way it was always meant to be.

He moans, the vibrations soft against you, and then he moans again, delight and adoration coming from him.

Your head sinks deeper into the pillows, body arching, his fingertips pressed to your mound, holding you fast as you lose control of your own body.

You raise a hand, pressing it to your mouth on instinct to fight the scream you're no doubt going to release. An invisible force grabs your wrist, pinning your hands to either side of your head.

Trapped, you can only wriggle and his tongue licks over your clit, sliding from side to side, speeding up ever so subtly.

He hums again, and it's that low, delicious feeling of his desire that reverberates through your bones, locking them into place as your release slams into you.

Your back arches so forcefully that you swear you'll dislocate something, mindless whimpers and moans leaving your lips.

He keeps licking gently over you, soft, careful, attentive in a way that makes you grind against his tongue to prolong your orgasm.

When it's over, your body relaxes, panting, desperate for air, your heart pounding in your head, the back of your neck feverishly hot. You feel his invisible hold on your wrists release you.

He withdraws a little, kissing at the tops of your thighs, chin wet, leaving cool little spots over your hips as well.

You tilt your head to look down at him. You've never felt so many emotions before, yours and his, blending together in your head because you feel the same things.

“I would gladly do that forever.” He finally says, looking up at you.

You let out a breath, reaching a hand out to him, hoping that he can read your mind and know what you want.

He smiles, obliges, crawls his way up your body and covers you with his larger one, burying his face into your neck as your jelly arms wrap around him.

It scratches an itch in your brain to feel his large form over you like this, you feel so safe, protected, and something deeper, too deep to name.

“I'm not done,” he finally says into your hair, “Remember when I promised to teach you how to take me?”

Your breath hitches.

“Yes?”

He raised his body a little so that he can look into your eyes, the flickering of the candles reflected in them.

“I've got some… items to help you.”

He turns his head to the side, and when you turn to follow his line of sight, you see five phallic shaped objects lined up, the smallest being the width of two of your fingers and the largest being… just a little smaller than his actual member.

You gulp.

“Don't be scared,” he says, no doubt feeling your trepidation, “I won't hurt you.”

That, you believed. You turn to look at him, nodding your head, indicating your eagerness to begin.

He smiles, reaching for the smallest one with his tail. You lose sight of it, before you gasp, feeling it running along the seam of your cunt.

You look up, into his eyes, watching him watch you.

“You're so wet, this one will go in easy.” 

He proves his point by notching it against your entrance, twisting it slightly to coat it in your arousal.

It's like his fingers, you determine, mouth dropping open in delight as the object fills you.

“Breathe.” He guides, and you do, feeling him move the object in and out, pumping it into you slowly until you shudder, easily accepting this size.

“That's good, mistress, this isn't so scary, right? You just have to relax and trust me.”

You swallow, nodding, eyes locked on his. 

He withdraws this size from you, reaching for the next size up- the approximate size of his tail.

This one takes a little bit more effort, but it doesn't hurt, and you drop your head back, moaning as euphoria overtakes your body.

He chuckles above you.

“Yes, you're used to this size as well,” he whispers, pumping the shaft of the object deeper and deeper into you.

You whine, toes curling, a spot deep inside of you aching, threatening release long before you're even ready.

“Already, mistress?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment, you can feel that he's just teasing you, but his words still draws another high pitched keen from you.

“I'm not even trying, you're just that needy, hmm?”

You nod your head eagerly, feeling him drag the silicone object out and then back in, pushing it fully into you.

“Fuck- Billy- I'm-”

“Don't, mistress. You don't cum unless I say.”

You wished it was that easy, you wish You could make your body understand and prioritize what your demon wanted above itself. But it just didn't work like that.

His hand moves under your head, fisting your hair tightly, grabbing your attention, forcing you to look into his dark eyes.

“Don't. Cum.” He growls, his eyes flashing red, as if that's supposed to stop you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath, trying to relax your body, looking up at him with teary eyes when you get yourself under control.

“Good.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips to yours.

It's a good distraction, you focus on the kiss so much that you're not expecting him to reach for the larger size, pressing it against you with his hand when he withdraws the other one with his tail.

You shudder out a breath, looking up at him, feeling your cunt stretch, taking this size, feeling so unbelievably full, glancing over at the unused sizes, trying to figure out how much fuller you're going to feel with those.

It aches a little, and he pauses halfway in, to let you grow accustomed to the size.

His thumb brushes over your cheek, swiping at some of the tears slipping from your eyes.

“You tighten up when you come, it would have made taking this size more painful. But you’re doing so good, mistress, so good for your demon.”

You hum when you hear him say those words, tilting your hips up to drive the dilator deeper into you.

He smiles, taking your guidance, slowly working this size into you, before moving his hand away.

“This one stays for a little while, till you’re dripping around it.” He says, leaning up, and away, so that he can see between your legs. You feel his appreciation through the bond.

“That little cunt is so good for me. I can’t wait to break her in.”

You shudder, aching.

Experimentally, you squeeze your walls around the object, sighing when pleasure fills your body.

He gives you a breathy grin, watching you carefully.

“Good, get used to it. Maybe I should leave it in longer, it would be fun to watch you move around with one of these inside of you.”

You groan, he really was some kind of evil.

It was torture, you wanted to rock your hips so badly, your need to come was even worse. Your body was aching for release, and you weren’t sure how long you would be able to take it.

His tail wraps around your thigh, pressing gently against your clit. Your body shudders in response.

“Does it hurt at all?” He asks.

You swallow, shaking your head.

His tail moves softly on your clit, relaxing you.

“I’ll let you come on the next size, okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, skin growing sensitive with the need for release, “O-okay.”

After a few minutes, he gently moves this one out, and then in, getting you used to the sensation, your eyes closed, when he finally withdraws it, and presses the second largest one against you.

You go tense.

“No, sweetheart.” Billy murmurs, his tail pressing down firmer on your clit, “Relax for me, deep breaths, you can take it.”

He keeps saying that, mumbled encouragements, you can take it, so sweet for me, relax a little bit more baby, you’re made for this, promise.

Your breath hitches when he finally works the tip in.

He’s used some kind of lubricant to help it move easier, you tremble as you try your best to relax, to remind yourself that this is worth something, that you wanted to take him fully.

It’s a little uncomfortable, but most importantly, it doesn’t hurt, you hear the rolling of thunder outside, or maybe that’s just the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

“Billy.” You cry, a mix of pleasure and discomfort swimming inside of you, and he reaches to hold your hand with his free one, his words not stopping for a second.

“Perfect for me, sweetheart, you wanna take me so bad, hmm? Need to feel your demon’s cock fill you up?”

You nod, mindlessly thinking about it, the way he’d press into you like he did before, the way he’d move, the way he’d feel.

“Want you to cum inside of me.” You babble, watching his eyes go pitch black once more, eyes following the black veins as they trace their way down his body.

He tilts his head, studying you as you watch him.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for.” He says, his voice deep- almost a low grovel, “You don’t want that.”

“Why not?” You ask, absently realising that he’s still slowly guiding the dilator into you.

“I’m a demon, mistress. A prince of Hell. Evil.”

You blink, shuddering when the dilator finally presses tightly against that spot deep within you.

“So?” You challenge, trying to focus on two things at once.

“You think I’m attached to you now, there won’t be any letting go if you give yourself to me like that. Remember a few days ago when you offered to break the bond if I wanted?”

You nod your head, cunt full.

“If you let me cum deep inside of you, I’ll never want to let you go, ever. I’d own you, mistress, you’d never be free of me. If you ran from me, I’d chase you. If you hid, I would find you. There is no corner on Earth you could ever go to, that would rid you of me.”

Your lips part, cunt clenching as he slowly pumps the slick dilator in and out of you.

“Please,” you gasp, “More.”

He obliges, pushing in deeper, rocking the pseudo-cock into you until your toes curl, a loud roaring in your head that threatens a supernova.

You squeeze his hand tightly when you come, gasping, shuddering violently, your cunt clamping down around the large size, making you feel fuller than ever, your mind drunk on the pleasure you were experiencing, unsure of where your body began and his ended.

You drop back against the bed, apparently having arched your body so forcefully that your back had raised a little off the bed.

“Oh my fucking god.” You draw out, body still convulsing occasionally, shards of pleasure still cutting through you in waves. You blink, hypersensitive, feeling your skin flush with an abundance of heat.

His lips are on your shoulder, peppering sweetly over your chest, soft, ticklish even in its gentleness.

He was right, orgasms make you a little tighter, you only realise this when he tries to tug the dilator out, and encounters resistance.

He doesn’t try to force it, twisting the object gently, continuing to kiss your shoulders.

“Deep breaths, mistress, relax.” His free hand smooths over your face, delving into your hair, squeezing at your shoulders.

His gentle touches work, and before you know it, he can tug the silicone out without hurting you.

“Last one, sweetheart.” He murmurs, reaching for the final size.

You try not to be scared, to remember that Billy was attentive, and gentle, and would rather die than have you hurt in any way.

You barely feel it, sliding into you, only a touch wider than the last and the pleasure from your last orgasm numbs the discomfort of this purple dilator as it slides into you.

You take it easily, breathing deep and even, only hitching when his tail flicks gently on your clit.

“Good, mistress, so perfect for me.” He praises guiding it in till it fits snugly inside of you.

Is this what he would feel like? Pressed deep, so deep you could feel it in your throat?

You blink up at him, wishing it were him inside of you, and not this unfeeling thing.

You feel a tug at the connection between you, telling you that he felt the exact same way.

“That demon I saw in your dreams last night, that was the real you.” You say, no question in your tone, already suspecting the answer.

You watch his throat bob, nodding.

“Will you show me?” You ask, clenching gently around the dilator.

He exhales, nodding again, backing away from you, stepping off the bed to show you his full form.

The first thing you see is his nails sharpen, then his horns growing larger, eyes going fully black, and then the beautiful dark veins spreading over his body. The darkness pools at the tips of his fingers, fading into his natural skin as it moves up his wrist. 

He looks bigger somehow, more menacing, an aura of darkness unleashes itself around him and it only arouses you more.

You glance down at the boxers he’s still wearing, watching the dark veins torment you as they dip beneath the waistband.

You sit up, gasping when the dilator feels bigger in this position, you take your time, crawling on all fours till you’re sitting on the bed just in front of him.

Your demon is beautiful, ethereal, and without a doubt, pure evil.

You smile up at him, reaching for either side of his boxers, excitement deepening when he doesn’t stop you.

The veins do in fact extend lightly over his large cock, and you moan when you observe that the tip is untouched, remaining pink, beads of precum pooling on his slit.

You look up at him, his chest heaving, fingers curled into fists, watching as you extend your tongue to softly lick at the head of his cock.

You moan at his taste, eagerly wrapping your lips around the head of him, sucking eagerly.

Big, deliciously big that you have to raise a hand to work at the base of him while you suck slowly on his tip. Every now and then, you look up at him to remind yourself that he looks like that.

So unbelievably gorgeous, you take him as deep into your mouth as you can, wanting to feel him fill your mouth, take up space in your throat, own you.

You moan, reaching down between your legs with your other hand, you gently slide the dilator in an out of you, using it to fuck yourself while you suck him off.

His hand grips the back of your head, nails scraping gently on your scalp.

“Filthy little mistress, likes being full on both ends.”

You whine at his words, flicking your eyes up to meet his dark ones.

He’s so divine, you want to tell him but you can’t spare the air it would take.

Instead you nod, forcing him deeper into your mouth.

He moans, his pleasure settling at the base of your spine, hand guiding your head up and down on his cock, panting as he looks down at you.

You want him to come in your mouth, to make you cum drunk and able to take him better. You rock your hips harder on the dilator inside you, feeling so full that you’re not sure how you’re ever going to survive without him inside of you.

You hasten the movement of your hands, abandoning your own pleasure to ensure he experiences his.

“Mistress,” He gasps, tilting his head back, you stroke him faster eagerly.

You’re greedy for his cum, he groans loudly as he spills himself into your mouth. You lose control of the quantity, some of it dripping down your chin and falling onto your breasts as you try your best to swallow.

You draw back with a gasp, and a final bit of his cum hits your cheek. You wipe your lips, sucking your fingers into your mouth, to try cleaning yourself up.

There’s too much of his spend on your skin though, and you don’t get the chance to try fully before his hand is wrapped around your throat.

You’re pressed to the bed suddenly, his body over yours, dark eyes looking at you as you feel your head go hazy.

You moan, writhing under his grip so that he’s forced to squeeze tighter, loving the attention as you get high on his cum.

Ropes wrap around your wrists, over your knees, spreading them wide the way he’s done before.

You moan when you feel him wipe at your chin and cheek, cleaning the remnants of his cum from your skin.

“My demon.” You whisper, arching your back, not trying to break free, but to beg him to fuck you any way he wanted.

The only answer you receive, is the feeling of him gripping the ends of the dilator, tugging it out slowly before pressing it back in.

“You look like a work of art, mistress.” He murmurs lowly, “Hands and legs bound, the circle of candles, the way they light up your pretty skin-” He uses a single digit to tease your stiff nipple, making you gasp, skin oversensitive, “-You’d fuel an artist’s best daydream.”

You say his name on a half sob.

“I can’t believe I get to have you like this” He continues, his tail gliding over your thighs and to your cunt, “You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

His tail circles your clit, as he slowly pumps the silicone into you, you thrash a little, the sensations are so strong, almost overpowering.

You stutter out a moan, fingers curling, unable to do anything except feel.

“That's it, mistress, show me how you'd take me.”

You gasp, eyes wide, arching your hips towards his hand in hopes that he gives you more. He obliges easily, speeding up his rhythm, your head so full of bliss that you can barely think about anything else.

He slides his free hand up from your thigh, to press over the space of your womb, he presses down a little, and you swear the sensations grow even more intense.

“I can't wait to finally fuck you, mistress. I hope you know, I'll be insatiable after. I'll probably need you so much more.”

You nod your head, easily agreeing, your body locking into place once more as your orgasm approaches.

You gasp, feeling him deepen his thrusts just a little bit more until it almost aches with how good it feels, deep, measured, something you never even knew you were craving.

You come hard, harder than you ever have before, crying out loudly as pleasure hits you at full force, your skin tingles, your cunt spasms around the silicone, holding it in place, euphoria spreading through your nerve endings, sparking heat that you can barely keep track of.

Your invisible bindings fall away as you go boneless, shuddering still as waves of bliss continue to move through you.

He falls into the space beside you, and it's through heaving breaths that you realise he's shaking too.

“Billy?” You say carefully, reaching to caress whatever part of him you could, the backs of your fingers tracing his shoulders.

He turns his head to look at you.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs, “I think I just felt every second of that orgasm.” He crawls his way higher, till he's face to face with you, studying you like words on a page, “Does it always feel like that?”

You chuckle, throat dry and a little achey from overuse.

“That, was probably the hardest I've ever come.” You answer.

He hums, eyelashes fluttering as he dips his head to kiss along your jaw. You tilt your head to give him space, smiling easily at his gentle and persistent attentions.

“If I hadn't come earlier, that would have no doubt set me off untouched.”

You groan, liking the sound of that.

The dilator is still inside of you, and squirm a little in discomfort.

He gets the message, reaching down, with a soft voice guiding you to relax, you feel him tug it out of you.

You let out a soft breath as it slides out, your body going from uncomfortably full, to very empty in the span of a few seconds.

“I'll be honest, I thought when we started, that you would fuck me at the end of this, but honestly, I don't think I could handle it.” You say, laughing as you finish your sentence, emphasising your own point by closing your legs, feeling how blissfully sore you are at this very moment.

He laughs along with you, a low chuckle of amusement.

“You definitely wouldn't, no offence, you're going to be really sore tomorrow, and I'm not going to help you with it.”

You blink.

“Why not?”

You feel his deviousness wrap around you. The look in his human eyes is sinister.

“I want you to ache, mistress, I want you to remember what I did, what you begged me to do, every time you move I want you to feel it, I want you to wonder how much worse it will be when it's my real cock, and not some poor substitute.”

Now why on earth did that arouse you so much?

He grins when he feels your reaction, eyes flashing red for just a moment, and you wonder if this was the corruption promised.

His hands drift over your thighs, up your stomach, cupping your breast softly on its way up to grip your throat.

You feel your body go pliant underneath him, you feel like his, a plaything for his desires.

“Ready for your bath, mistress?” He asks with a tilt of his head, and it takes you a moment to think about his words before nodding.

He scoops you into his arms, a pleased expression on his face when you wrap your arms around him easily.

Who knew that when you met him all those months ago that this is where you would end up? That one traumatic night would lead to something so… perfect.

He opens a heavy wooden door, and descends down a stone staircase, it opens up into a hallway, made of the same stone. You lose focus of where you're going in favour of snuggling into him, nose buried in his chest that you almost ignore the first sparkle you see.

You raise your head, mouth dropping open in surprise when he walks past a little table piled high with shiny gems.

“Uhhhh, Billy?” 

“Hmmm?”

You try to say more when he passes a jewel encrusted, solid gold candelabra.

You turn your head quickly to watch where you're going, finding that the hallway is lined with dozens of these shiny, jewel encrusted items of different shapes.

“What?” You ask, with absolutely zero context.

He chuckles.

“Asmodeus, the demon before me, he was something of a collector, things that were lost to time, he'd find and keep them. When I inherited his title, I also received sole access to his treasures. I'd started to move it here, until I realised that he had way too much stuff, which is why you might find these things piled anywhere I could find a space.”

You watch, amazed as he passed another little table piled high with gold coins, except that a few of the piles have toppled, spilling gold over the stone floor.

“The bathroom is gonna blow your mind.” He says without elaboration, and you feel a touch of excitement go over you.

It does, you almost think you're dreaming.

There are several lamps scattered around the room, but the chandelier hanging from the roof acts the way a suncatcher does, sending fractals of light scattering, catching on the many shiny objects in the room.

There are so many shiny things that your brain can hardly comprehend, a glittering ship, that looks like it's been made out of the finest diamonds, a large floor to ceiling mirror made out of what you think might be real rose gold and the bath- the bath is built into the floor of the room, covered, absolutely full, of shiny gold coins, crystal waters still above it.

“You're Scrooge McDuck.” You whisper in shock.

“I have no idea who that is.”

“Cartoon duck,” you mumble absentmindedly as he approaches the bath, “filthy rich, bathes in his money.”

He huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, I have no defence for that, I'm a duck I guess.”

The water is nice and warm, soothing your body from the minute he steps in.

He settles you against his body, your back to his front in the sparkling water.

A swipe of his influence, and you watch a little solid gold fountain start up, spilling water into the bath, the chandelier above head begins turning, the light spinning around the room.

It's so relaxing, you settle against him, the sound of dribbling water lulling your sated body.

“I can't believe you're this rich.” You murmur sleepily.

“We are,” he corrects, raising your hand to remind you of the tattoo on your inner wrist, “This gives you access to my things.”

You hum, deep in thought about that, the way he makes it sound like you were one.

He scoops up some gold coins from below, dropping them over your thighs. You feel the heavy weight of them, the way they slide off of your skin back to the bottom.

You feel his contentment, it melds with yours. You turn your head to kiss at his cheek and chest, the warm water soothing your little aches the way he said he wasn't going to.

It makes you smile, settling against him, heart full of something, so deep that you're not really sure which one of you is really feeling it.

.

“What about this one?” You ask, turning slowly to show him with the weight on your head.

He studies you, the lavish crown sitting on your head, a sheer robe wrapped around you that he knows will reveal your body to him in the right lighting.

“A queen I'd gladly kneel for.” He answers, eyeing you hungrily.

He watches you fight a smile, turning away to put the crown back, he feels your delight at his words.

You're examining a very long string of pearls when he decides to make his way to you. Billy breathes in your soft scent as he wraps his arms around you.

“These are really long, I wonder how they were worn.”

He hums, pressing his nose to your neck.

“I think these were made to wrap around the body.”

“Really?” You say in interest, winding them around your arm to examine the look of them.

“Let me.” He says, extending his hand, his cock stiffening in excitement of the way you'd look.

You pass them over to him curiously, turning to face him. He takes the opportunity to push the robe from your shoulders.

You gasp, and he tries not to let it distract him from his purpose, carefully starting at your neck, winding the strings of pearls over your body, he has to bite his tongue hard with the way they decorate your perfect breasts, resisting the urge to take you into his mouth before he's done.

Every curve on your body is delicious, and he crisscrosses the pearls several times over your stomach, lowering his body to his knees when he has to decorate your hips. 

He's a little sinister, guiding the pearls between your thighs, ensuring that they're pressed securely to your clit before routing them between the curves of your ass, tugging a little tightly, watching you stiffen as you experience pleasure. 

He pretends that it's normal, winding them around your body a few more times before securing it around your waist.

He looks up at you, his work of art, his mistress, he feels your arousal, worsening the longer the pearls rub against you.

He stands, taking your hands in his, tugs you forward, knowing that motion increases the sensations on your body.

He brings you to a mirror, turning to show you how beautiful you look.

Nothing stands a chance against you, he thinks to himself, admiring his work, watching you lift a hand to touch the pearls in wonder.

“Only thing that might make you prettier, is my cum soaking into your skin.”

He feels the exact moment you decide he's right.

“Only one way to find out.” You respond, turning to sink to your knees in front of him.

He groans, tilts his head back when your lips seal around the head of his cock.

Heaven wasn't as far away as it had seemed.

.

.

.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Forever and Always Masterlist

Summary: Javier Peña never thought he'd fall in love, let alone deserve to. That was, until you walked into his life and changed it for the better. Now, with a wife, a house, and 3 daughters later, Javier Peña is the happiest man alive, and couldn't be more glad he's proven his past self wrong.

This series is written as slices of life following Javi and the Peña family! It can be read on its own, or as a continuation of the series It's Never Too Late!

Pairing: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (Reader's nickname is Osita), no use of y/n

General Warnings: Each story will have their own additional warnings, and any chapters with smut will be marked with*

SMUT (18+), Javi being domestic and in love, family dynamics, language, romantic comedy, tooth rotting, sickening fluff, you and Javi having the sweetest, most adorable family 🥹💕

Status: Ongoing!

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this story! (If you're already on the taglist for NTL, I'll automatically tag you in these stories too!)

Trying: You and Javi are trying for your first baby. The two of you can't help but be excited for future baby Peña, even they don't exist yet

Bonding: Summary: You and Javi just brought your daughter Lucy home from the hospital. While the two of you couldn't be more in love and excited at the addition of your newest family member, it doesn't mean that you both aren't feeling some of the nerves of being first time parents

Kicking: The past few weeks of your pregnancy, Baby Peña number 2 has been kicking you non-stop. Javi tries his best to help you relax and give you some relief. *

Dirty Laundry: Life with two toddlers has taken a toll on your sex life for the past few weeks, but after a surprisingly calm morning, you and Javi find a creative solution to solve your problem.*

Tired: You had spent weeks looking forward to your date night with Javi, but once the day actually arrives, it seems like everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. Lucky for you, Javi knows just how to make your day better. *

Promises: When you wake up to find your house quiet, your first reaction is panic. But after you find Javi and learn what he has planned for you this morning, your mood becomes a whole lot better.*

Amor: After a bad day at work, coming home to his family makes Javi realize his day wasn't so bad after all

Lunch: Javi's rough start to the work week is turned around when he finds a surprise from his daughters in his lunch

Fight: When you get a phone call from your elementary school that your girls got into a fight, Javi leaves work to figure out what happened

Reindeer: It's Christmas Eve, and you and Javi spent the night preparing for your girls to have the most magical Christmas morning*

Haircut: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.*

Uh-Oh: Javi's Girl Dad skills get put to the ultimate test when your oldest daughter gets her period and you're not home to help her

Growing: After a concerning phone call from his daughter's Principal, Javi goes to find out the true reason why she's really there in the first place.

[harunayuuka2060]

Malleus: *volunteered to accompany MC back to the Ramshackle dorm*

MC: Uh... Hornton? You don't have to hold my hand...

Malleus: You didn't have to sleep in Kingscholar's room either.

MC: ...

MC: You're really not going to let me get away with it, huh...

Malleus: I'm your future husband and yet... Wouldn't you agree that can be compared to cheating? *turns to smile at them*

MC: Well, it doesn't sit right with me to bring the kids to Diasomnia.

Malleus: I can babysit the young Kingscholar and the young Rosehearts if that's what you're worried about.

MC: That's-

"Couples like this sucks."

"You're definitely right about that, Idia."

MC and Malleus: Huh?

Idia's child self and Vil's child self: *waiting for their arrival*

Vil's child self: *frowning at the sight of them* You should apologize for making us wait.

Idia's child self: Your house is really boring. I want to get out of here.

MC: ...

Vil and Idia: ...

Idia: *to his child self* What were you thinking tagging yourself along?

Idia's child self: I was dragged.

Idia: Great.

Vil: How about you? Didn't you have modelling projects around this month?

Vil's child self: Yes. But they were probably cancelled now because I went missing.

Vil: !!!

Vil: Potato...

MC: I can explain- No, nevermind. I don't know the explanation to this.

Idia's child self: Let me. It's your father-figure a.k.a Fairy Godfather.

Idia, Vil, MC, and Malleus: ...Fairy Godfather?

Vil's child self: Yes. The one who grants wishes and messes up with the timeline.

Idia's child self: He wants us to bond us with you or something. And then we can leave.

Vil's child self: You can pay for my talent fee later.

MC: ...

MC: I feel like this is going to be stressful.

Vil: If you can't handle my younger self, I can take care of him instead.

Vil's child self: *looking at Vil* You look gorgeous.

Vil: Why, thank you.

Vil's child self: Have we beaten Neige yet?

Vil: ...

MC: Vil?

Vil: I've changed my mind. You take care of him.

Malleus: How about you, Shroud?

Idia: Yeah. Maybe I can.

Idia's child self: How's Ortho? Is he studying here too?

Idia: Um...

Malleus: Yes. I believe he's with the other first-year students.

Idia's child self: Really? I want to see him.

Idia: You can't!

Idia's child self: ???

Vil's child self: Give me a separate room. And I want it to be elegant and fashionable.

Idia's child self: Same. I don't like sharing room with someone.

Leona's child self and Riddle's child self: *being carried by MC*

Leona's child self: Wow. They're really bossing you around.

Riddle's child self: I feel annoyed for some reason.

MC: I'm kinda expecting this, so I'm not surprised.

Ace: We really need to investigate who's this fairy godfather they're talking about.

Epel: Yeah. I'm feeling bad for MC having to deal with our housewardens' younger selves every single time one of them pops out of nowhere.

Deuce: But... I think all of them have appeared now.

Ace and Epel: ...

Epel: Yeah!

Ace: Even so, we need to find out who the fairy godfather is.

Deuce: Why?

Ace: Because!

Ace: What if our younger selves show us this time! Wouldn't that be embarrassing?!

Deuce: ...

Deuce: Y-You're right!

Epel: Huh? I don't get it.

Epel: Why would you be embarrassed?

[justblades]

⌕ LUSTFUL REQUIEM, 18+

⟢ yandere! blade x afab! reader wc : 1.7k

⟢ cw : fxck buddy! blade, dubcon, cervix kissing, degradation, toxic themes, filming, choking, somnophilia

❝ you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains�� to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's. ❞

blade is not one to typically fall for eye candies as if it was a part of his everyday routines, no one piques his attention nor does the male has his eyes set on a person. it was not until long once he gets a taste of flavors of lust: commixing together, making a concoction he would never forget, that one day, he decided to yearn for more.

every beginnings are sweet nothings that eventually become bitterly endings - one could draw that conclusion as scenes continue to unfold, blade's grasp on your wrists tightening as he bucks his hips upwards, thrusting into your slit with little to no difficulties.

adorned by your melting features are the weak sighs you let out everytime he slips his cock into you, sweat and drool racing down your dewed skin. "louder." his voice was flat and stern, an intonation that pierces through your wary self. you part your lips wider so more natural moans come out just as the male orders you to, a smirk of satisfaction following suit once his wish is finally fulfilled.

"were you moaning this loud for that asshole earlier?" another question rises from blade's dry throat, dehumanizing queries coming out one by one the longer the session prolonged. you shook your head vigorously and shut your eyes, but blade bucks his hips with more force now, his cock's tip eventually meeting with your cervix. "don't give me that nodding and shaking your head, i only take words for an answer."

his brows tightly knit, frustration seethes out of his gritted teeth. "answer!"

uncertainty fills your heart to the brim as you slowly take a trip down the memory lane, recollecting the events that unraveled earlier that lead to this now-present, once future.

crimson hues seep out of the man's wounds, several of his teeth had fallen out already - his body failed to keep himself stable and the navy haired across him doesn't falter. he only continues. "i can do this all night." blade says with utmost confidence lacing his words, the bandages of his hand come undone, revealing such deep wounds that seemed to have never recover.

ah. you understand a part of blade's destructive behavior now. the reason he's like this was because you slept with another man behind him— "fucking slut. how could you do that to me?" he lets go of your wrists for a short moment, only for them to land back on the silhouette of your waist, cupping the margins to make your body shudder the deeper he pushes in- "come on. rock your hips like how you did as you fucked that loser."

it was only a connection solely established to cope with ephemeral temptations. shortlived feelings yet the hardest to resist is what describes lust best, especially for two beings who feed on nothing but these urges. it was a mutual bond, a shared understanding to not be cuffed by the confinements of this relationship, but blade crossed that fine line like it was a a puny boundary for him.

you should've known from the beginning. you should've been able to discern from the way his glassy eyes scrutinize your appearance everytime he realizes you just got back from the hands of another man. you should've been able to know from the way the words roll out of his tongue when he speaks out of frustration, no rational thoughts behind those lashed out actions.

amidst of all of that - it feels good to be filled to the brim by your fuck buddy's dick. regardless of how he beat the guy you were with into a pulp with no hopes of recovering, here you are, basking in the pleasures intercourse with blade had to offer. it felt gratifying, but it's also heavily contradicting.

the same hands he use to inflict wounds on people who got close to you are the same hands now gradually becoming tender in his touches as he pounds into your velvet walls - blade picks up this little detail, a sneering smile replaces his scowl in an instant. "are you feeling good now?" he leans to your face, the tall bridge of his nose few inches away from yours.

your eyes burn in crystalline reflections, perfectly reflecting blade's image as he presses his lips onto yours, tongues next in action, twisting and twirling altogether— fighting for dominance. "h. . hmm." you hum as a response, much to blade's delight. he quickly breaks it off however, a hoarse chuckle slips out next.

"i've become so whipped for you," blade muses, catching you off guard. he bats his long lashes as he trails your facial features up and down. "i can't bear the thought of anyone else fucking you like this." his dominant hand at present cups your cheek, the thumb finger drawing viscules on the dampened skin. blood rushes into your cheeks as you mewl at how his grip once more tenses, "at last, i can call you mine now." his smile felt rather eerie that you could only return a mere "huh?"

he shifts his gaze elsewhere, a coy smile replaces the eerie one in a blink. "i can't believe my fantasies are finally coming to real life." a crease between your brows forms but the male has your body flipped in 20 machs speed, your back now lays flat on the matress while his cock is nestled in between your lower lips, he rocks his hips forward to make friction, another string of mewl escaping past your mouth.

"but . . but didn't we agree there's no strings attached in this?" the atmosphere grows suffocating, blade's looming presence tripled, leaving no room for you to breathe. a click of tongue then chimes into your ears, "those agreements hold no meaning any longer. i've fallen for you . . and you have too. right?" the airway from your throat proceeds to become scuffed as his two hands wrap around the part, "b-blade i can't b—!"

he reinserts his cock back into your entrance and your cunt gladly accepts his intrusion, clamping around his shape as he continually molds your insides. "say you're mine. say only i have the privilege of relishing you like this."

'blade has gone insane', is what you thought upon hearing those bizarre words of choice. you're starting to fear for your life underneath the contrasting touches of your sexual partner, you had no choice but to fall prey to his temptations. his navy dipped scarlet strands tumble on his shoulders in every thrusts he does, he sports a look you've never seen before: a predatory gaze as he watches your lust ridden body, "i-i'm yours. . i'm all y-yours!" you yelp.

you could only hope he gives you a slack, even just a minute would be nice to indulge without him bombarding you with insults and offensive questions. "finally." he rejoices with another arrogant smile, solferino irises turning inwards at the halfhearted sentence that rang to his ears like sweet tones.

"ride me again." for the nth time, he commands you once more. you could feel all the fatigue gnawing at your bones, unable to register how much energy the mental state can drain oneself. blade sees you struggle and he helps you get into position with the help of his fists on your feet, "no, turn the other way around."

your back faces him while your hands are propped on his sculpted, bandaged thighs. this position out of the dozen ones you've already tried with blade strikes you as the most embarrassing one. your legs continue to tremble as you try to keep yourself up, but only now a late realization dawns in your mind as you get a clear sight of what's placed in front of the cabinet across the bed: a cellphone camera accurately leveled to catch both your bodies in one frame.

"hah, you just saw that now?" he pants as he reinserts his dick back into your entrance, your pussy spasms from being ravaged by his cock. "it'll be for our eyes only. i can never share such intimate moment with others, they're simply undeserving."

you wished that reassurance could've ceased your worries, but it didn't.

"this video will be our proof of love and my proof of property of you. this day marks my ownership of you." he murmurs, his deep voice meshes with the squelching sounds emitted from his cock kissing your pussy, and the jagged breathy mewls. "i'm so delighted all of my hardwork paid off, mmh. . ." low moans continue to bubble from his throat, his fingers sinking deep to your body.

"i don't want to share you anymore."

.

.

.

"those days are long over."

.

.

.

"hmph, are you listening?"

blade ascends from his position only to see your passed out state - he cracks a hoarse chuckle afterwards, seeing your frail figure right in the solace of his arms.

"this is fine. i can still worship your body regardless of your consciousness." he murmurs to himself, readjusting your position laid back again in the soft cushions. he coils his hands around his dick, tightening his grip to merit himself waves of pleasure. "ah, haah, i feel so good." blade's guttural moans bounce off the room's four walls, the male then swiftly rubs his tip on your entrance, and with little force, it slips back in. "i'm happy. i . . i know you are too."

all blade is a filth of sorrow, regrets and sadness. growing up, he never understood the charm of owning something. he'd always watch by the windowsill, a blank expression carved on his face, seeing children around his age gleefully claim what's theirs. perhaps . . his upbringing was molded that way for today. for today, he finally owns something now. something that fills the cup of his heart to the point that it's overflowing - something that could satisfy his perpetual yearning.

it is no doubt he'll never let go of you now— at present, you're nothing but a bird inside of a rotten cage. you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains— to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's.

that you're merely a timeless fodder for his everlasting hunger: a hunger to own and a hunger to love. at long last, he finally has one.

"i really love you."

A/N : the upbringing part is just my own and obviously not canon, it's more to expound on how he became a yandere for reader ^^ my masterlist !

[mogitz]

Don't think about Lucien Vanserra witnessing the unspeakable: his world crumbling as the love of his life is ripped away from him and murdered right before his eyes. Don't picture his brothers holding him back, making him watch it all - every excruciating detail - as he's powerless to stop it.

Forget the image of him, broken and bleeding, dragging himself to the sanctuary of the Spring Court boundary, barely making it over the line before his knees give out beneath him. Don’t think about the emptiness that surely follows, nor the weight of his grief so heavy it's a wonder he could even stand to make it to safety in the first place. Don’t think about all the times on his journey he just wanted to give up altogether, but pushed on so that Jesminda’s death was not in vain.

Don't think about him having to turn against two of his own brothers, killing them in a twisted act of vengeance that feels nothing like the justice he sought. Resist the thought of him taking weeks, months, (years??) to mourn in solitude because Tamlin, though knowing loss to this magnitude as well, could not possibly navigate the depths of Lucien's grief. Thus, Lucien was left to weather his storm of sorrow and loss the same way Tamlin had weathered his own - alone - hiding away from a world that had taken everything from him

Don’t picture him upon the dawn-kissed roof of the Spring manor, where the dance of pinks and oranges and blues in the sky only seems to deepen his yearning for an Autumn forever lost to him. And don’t think about how in the Spring Court he has found some kind of solace... but never peace. How despite finding a home there, his soul remains restless, wandering, always running from the shadows of his past. Running from his future. Running from himself.

And please don’t think about how Lucien's gratefulness to Tamlin for giving him something close to a family results in a loyalty so profound that he'd walk into hell for him. Which he does - right into Amarantha’s clutches - only to come back less than whole, another piece of him stolen away.

That beauty he was known for? Gone.

Just like everything else.

Don’t imagine Lucien slowly piecing himself back together - inch by painstaking inch. Forget about the way he masters the art of sarcasm and humor, how he wields his wit like a shield to keep others at bay, to convince them, and maybe himself, that he's not hurting as much as he is. That beneath the quips and the easy smiles lies a well of pain and self-doubt so deep it's become part of who he is. That this levity he brings into every room is, in truth, the heaviest thing he carries.

And hey. Don't think about Lucien giving up any hope of being wanted, of being loved again. That his chance at having a mate, a true partner, was as dead as his former lover.

Or how, in a twist that must have amused fate itself, the Cauldron surprises him with a mate in Elain Archeron: his undeniable yet unwilling counterpart. How from nowhere, a bond snaps into place, redefining his destiny and sealing a connection that he'd long since given up on.

And don't think about how when Lucien's eyes meet Elain’s, somewhere beneath all the layers of loss and hurt and betrayal….  a spark of hope dares to ignite once more.

And then absolutely don't let your thoughts wander to his heart being trampled on, again, when he realizes that Elain - like everyone else - doesn’t want him. But at this point he’s not even surprised. It’s just another sharp sting in a lifetime's collection of disappointments and cruel irony. Don't dwell on how he's gotten so used to the taste of rejection and the feeling of being unworthy that he doesn't even think about trying to change her mind about him. Because, what's the point, right? Why bother when history has shown him, time and time again, that even just hoping seems to lead him to more pain?

Don’t think about how despite this, he still seeks her out just enough to show he’s willing to give it a shot if she is. How against his every instinct to protect himself, he keeps himself open to the slightest possibility of her, knowing it just leaves the door open to be hurt. And don't think about how every time Elain shies away from him, every time she looks through him or chooses to keep her distance, it just reinforces  his walls, makes him retreat a little more behind his carefully constructed façade. Because facing that rejection head-on, acknowledging it, would mean admitting to himself that he's still holding onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could see past the surface. That she could want him, not despite of all he's been through, but because of it. That she could be the one to see him, really see him, and not turn away.

So, yeah, don’t go there. It's easier to laugh it off, to pretend it doesn't matter, than to face the possibility of another door closing in his face. Easier to keep up the act, to be the Lucien everyone expects - charming, sarcastic, unbothered - than to risk showing just how much Elain's avoidance cuts him to the core.

But don’t think about it. 

Because acknowledging that Lucien's humor and charm are just his way of coping? That means seeing the depth of his loneliness, the real Lucien who's been hiding in plain sight, waiting for someone to care enough to look closer. And understanding that? It's realizing that beneath the façade, Lucien's just waiting for someone to prove him wrong, to show him he's worth the risk, worth the love he's convinced himself he doesn't deserve.

And Elain, with her quiet strength and her own hidden depths, might just be the one to see the real Lucien. To challenge the walls he's built around himself, if only he could believe, one more time, that he's worthy of being chosen, of being loved.

But perhaps Mor is right - they aren’t ready. And Lucien’s not sure he’s ready to gamble his heart on hope again. Not yet, anyway.

So, really, don’t think about it—unless you’re ready to root for them, to believe in the kind of love that could be their light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Because Lucien and Elain? They could be something epic, a testament to the power of second chances and the strength of a love that comes when you least expect it but most need it. That their path isn’t just about two people finding love in an unfair world that has taken the things they both hold dear; it’s a journey of coming back to life after being lost in the dark for far too long.

So yeah, just don’t. It’s a lot.

[genji-centric]

hi!! may i please get a uh ram nsfw alphabet or even a junk nsfw alphabet😁 ur pick💕

Ofc!! I'll start off w Ramattra l, I got some Junkrat requests you can look forward to in the future ^^

Ramattra NSFW Alphabet

MDNI!!! NSFW under the cut!

A = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ramattra isn't one for.. bonding after you both finish. He's more relaxed than he usually finds himself, for an act so simple he was surprised to feel.. almost complete. Of course, he doesn't let his mind wander. He's a leader and can't waste his day alone by your side. But after being so rough, well, he can't just abandon his little pet human. He would carry you to the bathroom and draw you a bath, make sure any aches and sores are taken care of before he departs. Maybe once he reaches his goals, he could set aside time for you, make you an important part of his day even.. but for now, that's the only care you will receive.

B = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ramattra is an omnic, cold, and robotic. Due to his build, he is powerful. The upgrades with his nemesis give him strength others could only dream of. His wit is beyond most humans he suffices, and he's one to pride himself on his parts. But his favorite is his hands. With them, he can upgrade himself as he so pleases, hold the staff he brings to battle, pin his favorite pet to the wall as he thrusts from behind whispering insults as you sob. On you? Well.. all humans are the same in his eyes, but you.. you are different. He can't choose a certain part that's his favorite. If he kept the thought in mind, he would settle of how.. squishy human flesh is. How easy he can mold you into positions.. that's what he finds enjoyable the most.

C = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ramattra doesn't cum, in fact he finds the idea rather.. unpleasant. Just another thing about humans he couldn't help but despise. Such organic ways of reproduction are messy.. and reproduction only creates more soldiers to harm his people. Yet his ideas can shift, for being a monk in the past, he has learned to change his ways. With a mind open he can find a sick pleasure in your cum, he doesn't which to be covered. Oh no, he likes bending you in ways where you get your fluids on yourself. It's demeaning, but that's the case for many moments with him.

D = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ramattra.. well, he never saw himself having such relations with a human. Something so.. simple didn't catch his eye. So he still feels a bit odd when he holds you, gropes you, claims you. You, to him, is his dirty secret. He doesn't want other omnics to know he fell for such a thing, a human? Him? The idea is preposterous, so for now, your lives are kept private. But one day, he oh so wishes to free the little secret and claim you on the factory floor of the Null Sector as others look on to such a display.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ramattra doesn't.. only because of you he gave those omnic enhancements for human relations a try. But believe me, he learns fast. During the first time, it only took gentle guiding before he was already rearranging your guts while saying filthy things in your ear. You would've thought he was highly experienced, but no, Ramattra would never share the fact he spent how long researching human anatomy for this.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes control, Ramattra wants to be the one in power. He bends his little human around as he so pleases. An ironic change of power, instead of the humans in control, it's him, the omnic. If you forced him to answer. He'd laugh and say, "What a petty question," before he would give in. His favorite is doggy, forcing your face into the pillow while he pounds at a harsh pace from behind, watching the curve of your ass jiggle from how hard he was going.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He isn't humorous outside of the bedroom. Inside is no different. But that doesn't mean he wouldn't laugh, oh no. He would laugh at you, your reactions, how fragile humans are.. how needy they are. "Ha. Already all sensitive? Weak. You humans can't even handle such little time with a thing you crave.."

H = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ramattra doesn't have hair. Unless you count the wires he has, but he doesn't actually have hair, let alone pubic hair.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ramattra isn't one for romance. But you.. well, he can make an exception just this once. After a strenuous day, watching armies go into battle. There's nothing he wants more than to see his little pet.. ironic how that is. After taking out the stress of the day on you, he's content to just hold you. Pet your hair and whisper sweet nothings. "You did well.. very well." Simple compliments are the world coming from him, Ranattra is no romantic lover. But during those soft moments, he feels like any person's dream.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he first installed the.. enhancements he got. Of course, he had to try it out. The sensors.. well, they were a strange feeling but somewhat pleasant. When he felt something.. start to tighten, he grew concerned there was a malfunction, something he needed to fix. But he continued, and he found himself being pushed over the edge. Like his motherboard overloaded for a moment before this feeling of pure, relaxion hit. It was enjoyable, and if his little pet human isn't there to help him out, he might use his hand once more.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ramattra is well.. he thought things such as sex would be simple. It's just an act, nothing more.. right? He was soon to find out there was much more than just the act itself, emotions, positions, and even different kinks. At first he didn't want to expierement, but he found himself getting rougher and enjoying it. Without telling you, he looked into the more.. extreme parts. Hard domination peaked his interest, along with bindings. After trying them out, he learned he loved to deny you, making you whine and cry for your release. It pleases him, making a human beg for his mercy.

L = location (favorite places to do the do)

He's a private man, opting to claim you in your bedroom or his quarters. Away from any prying eyes, away from judgment. He still feels a small bit of embarrassment knowing he fell for a human. It isn't directed at you, but it feels like a weak point in what he fights for. So he just wants to keep his time with you private, just for him to enjoy.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Ramattra wants to say he doesn't crave sex like the pet he has.. but that just isn't true. After a long day, leading his army, meetings, and so on. He needs to release his stresses of the day into you, to rut into the tight, warm walls he grew to love. He loves watching you grow needy over him, using his legs to hump against like you were in heat. Just how desperate you get over him is that it turns him on more than anything.

N = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn't want to be subservient to a human, no. Omnics have already had to bend to the will of humans to be cast as monsters once they had the freedom of choice. Being told what to do.. getting told by a pet of his wjat to do. It's just not something he will entertain the idea of. He wants his little pet to he obedient, not him.

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ramattra doesn't have a mouth. Even if he did, he wouldn't waste such time with a lowly human, even if it was you. But oral for him? There's nothing he wants more than to put his little pet human in it's place on their knees below him, only allowed to please him.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Ranattra isn't one to be soft, especially on a human. When he gets to have his way with you, he calls the shots. And he prefers it to be fast, rough, and make it so you can only focus on him. It's a way to pound all that stress into his own little human of his own, but on the days he accepts the fact a human has his heart then.. well, he decides to be slow. To enjoy the warmth you bring, the sounds you make.. all just to admire. All so different, but all so unique.

Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Ramattra isn't one for quickies. If he wants it himself, he will take his time. Some things just can't be rushed. But if his pet is being particularly needy, then fine, he will give in just once. He won't admit the fact he enjoys he has the ability to make someone desire him in such a way, it's a boost in pride for him.

R = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Fighting wars is risk at its rawest form. Sending troops after troops to battles the machinery used would need to be rebuilt time and time again. Ramattra is used to risks. It's what he does on a day to say basis. This is why he wants to keep his time with you private, with little risks of being caught or putting you in danger. He wants to be in control of everything entirely. If there's the chance something could go array, he is not interested.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As an omnic, his stamina is nigh infinite. He can go for as many rounds as he so desires, and he uses that to his advantage. Each time you two have sex you are left disheveled, tired, and sore. He can also last as long as he wants. He has control over himself. Ramattra is mean but isn't heartless. He will listen if you truly need to stop.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He sees no purpose in using toys. He is right there, so why do you need a small bit of silicone? Because Ramattra is an omnic, he can switch out parts as he needs. After his favorite little pet has been rather.. obedient, he decided to treat them. As he started the process of preparing his little human to take him, his fingers began to vibrate. It was sudden, but felt oh so good. After hearing the noises you made, Ramattra decided he would happily install more.. erotic functions to his body.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

As a former monk, he knows patience. He has spent years of his life dedicated to meditation, waiting. His skills he still practices, the patience helping him plan each move carefully. And how long he can hold himself from you, he can go weeks without touching you. All while whispering about how your treat is soon to come, he wants you to disobey.. to touch yourself behind his back. His teasing is all with the goal to punish you. All humans are weak minded.. unlike him. So go on, he wants you to give into those selfish human desires. It isn't unfair. He just wants to prove a point.

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ramattra isn't one to moan. Be loud, and give you the impression he's enjoying himself. You are more likely to hear him make noise on the battlefield over the bedroom. That's just how he is. When he's close, he would let out some grunts, but when he crosses the finish line, he goes quiet and enjoys the feeling. He would much rather listen to you.

W = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If he succeeds in his goal, giving omnics power, he believes they all deserve he will settle down. He doesn't wish for a pure domestic life, but he truly does wish to have you by his side as his lover. To keep you on a pedestal by his side, his favorite pet human. He wants nothing more than to show you off, to claim you in front of others once he doesn't have to worry about appearances.

X = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

After you came into his life, he learned more about humans. More than he ever wished to. Out of curiosity, he looked into omnic and human relationships and was surprised there was.. certain upgrades for such cases. He kept it a secret, but Ramattra had located such an upgrade. The.. device is purple in color. Made of silicone, with ridges from the base to tip. It's both squishy and firm, with wires he connected to his other sensors. Ramattra was genuinely surprised he could.. feel such sensations, but after getting the upgrade, there is no going back.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Ramattra in an omnic who holds off on more.. indulgent activities. Only you had made him even entertain the idea of such obscene actions. To which he tries to ignore the need, but after getting a taste, he finds himself fantasizing about taking his little pet human more and more. But he holds large amounts of self-restraint, only he knows how often he dreams of indulging such.. peculiar activities.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ramattra doesn't need to sleep, but when he's feeling rather.. tender, he will hold you close and let you rest in his arms. You look so small compared to him, and he feels protective. If you can fall asleep as he holds you, he will sit in silence. Meditating and enjoying the moment of silence you share.

[merakiui]

i agree with the assignments but hmmm... i think malleus should be gluttony and idia lust! I feel like the same reasons we can confuse idia for pride can be the reasons why he fits lust. Whereas the reasons malleus can fit greed, is why he's gluttony if that makes sense? Also when it boils down to it, i feel like malleus can be in a sexless relationship based on pure love but i can see idia blowing his lid if he gets continually denied. I also feel like malleus has more self control and even with biological ruts, he can hold back and not "make a mistake" where i feel like idia would downright demand darling to take care of his lust. I know we always joke abt shy subby uwu idia, but ppl forget who he represents and just how depraved he can be. It can get rlly dark w him and lust >_<. But malleus, i see more of like gluttony for life and experiences. I think nothing would make him happier than to be at the center of the table, surrounded by food and drink and company and having a ball of a time. Even as the night weighs on and people are exhausted, malleus wont dismiss them as yet because HE is enjoying himself and having a good time, to the point where he is the only one smiling at the table anymore and everyone else is tortured to be there because of his gluttony for companionship. Mal is a spoiled prince and if he lacked any less, he would be envy, but he has everything. He has a lot of pride too, but not infront of player, and when it boils down to it, Idia has desire, but Malleus really just has a hunger to be accepted and loved.

AAAA ANON, THESE ARE WONDERFUL POINTS!!!!! Very thought-provoking!!! I wanted to separate sex and lust for what I have in mind for the fic (and if I wasn't writing about the seven Overblots then Rollo would immediately take the sin of lust for very obvious reasons and symbolisms. <3). I definitely agree that Malleus and Idia fit lots of different sins and so it can be difficult to assign just one to them (as well as the rest of the cast, but it's a little easier for some of them,,, i.e. Riddle's infamous temper grants him wrath by default. Azul's insatiable avarice (when it comes to his contracts) grants him greed. Etc etc.)

I do think there is a solid difference between desiring something and hungering for it, but then they also pair well together from time to time. Perhaps desire gives way to hunger. To hunger for something is to do so out of desperation (in some cases), and since Malleus is such a lonely soul and has never truly had a connection in which someone looks past the lofty title of heir apparent and future ruler of Briar Valley it makes sense for him to hunger so desperately for that sort of connection. It's why he's unable to simply let Lilia go and why he doesn't want to lose him. He can't accept the finality of an ending or parting, which is why he puts everyone to sleep in hopes that they can all find happiness in their dreams.

I think you can also argue that Idia hungers a little in book six. He desperately doesn't want the job he's set to inherit, and even when he was little he wanted to find a way to escape with Ortho. But due to the circumstances and the curse of his lineage there's only so much that can be done, or so he views it as such.

Perhaps these sins are interchangeable with Malleus and Idia depending on how you frame it. They both desire and hunger for things in their own ways. Idia's guilt and stress overwhelms him and his idea of getting what he's always desired is to reset the world alongside Ortho. Malleus's loneliness and desperation to hold onto the bonds he currently has (his unwillingness to let these go, to accept the fact that everyone will inevitably grow old and that life goes on, his desire and/or hunger to be seen and accepted for himself)......... aaaaa it's great!!!!

Rambling aside, I do love the thought of Idia embodying lust and Malleus embodying gluttony. I'm still debating between the two, but now I'm inclined to lean more towards these assignments after reading your thoughts and dissecting my own. They're very fitting from your perspective!!! >w< also,,,, I like a very dark, messed up Idia, so perhaps pairing him with lust will make for very yummy concepts.

[animezinglife]

Maybe it's my age talking, but I do think the Azriel vs. Lucien thing is blown way out of proportion.

There's a difference between attraction and being in love with someone, and another difference still between having a crush and being in love.

TL/DR: I genuinely think the biggest piece people overlook in this Azriel vs. Lucien puzzle is Elain herself and the layers of her internal conflict. Personally, I suspect it's much bigger than them both.

Here's the thing:

Azriel is gorgeous and is basically described as looking like a dark, fallen angel. He went into Hybern's war camp and got her out of there alongside Feyre, took her in his arms and flew her to safety. He's been kind to her, too. He hasn't pushed her to talk and has a quiet, strong presence that I'm sure is quite comforting to her.

There is zero expectation with him--zero pressure that she would even be able to create in her own mind. There's no "mate" term dangling over them and no friends or family breathing down their necks at every turn, acting like they should be supervised for something they didn't do. They're the only two people in their current circle (exempting Mor, though that's a bit different) who are still single. They both are constantly bombarded with this idea of "mates" and being on the outside of what that means.

I don't think it would be a reach at all to call her and Az friends.

It's not odd or confusing to me at all that she would have a crush on him; be attracted to him, want him to kiss her, or even to sleep with him. It seems completely natural.

I would argue that Az has been a gentleman towards her (and I will stand by the fact that internal frustrations are very different than actions, and that something expressed in confidence to your brother is nowhere near the same as acting out of turn), but I also wonder, too, if there's a part of her that makes her think she doesn't want a gentleman right now.

That while she's handled her trauma very differently than Nesta (thank the Cauldron), there's a part of her that's taken that robbing of life to heart and Graysen's whiny bitch comments/rejection to heart. That it's impacted her self-worth to make her think she is something "other" that's beyond saving or isn't worth the kind of fairytale love she always dreamed of for herself.

If I read into it perhaps a bit too much, I think Az is a little off when he assumes Elain doesn't know about the types of things he's done, whether that be atrocities or something more private. She might even see her involvement in killing Hybern to be some dark thing outside her nature she's having difficulty coming to terms with.

I'm not at all saying Az isn't a good guy who's deserving of love too, but I don't think what Elain's looking for with him in that extra chapter has much of anything to do with love. I think she wants a distraction with someone she thinks understands.

I think there's a chance, too, she's overwhelmed by Lucien being in the same house. Overwhelmed by that strong, involuntary pull she feels towards him and that she doesn't know what to make of him at all.

I will say it until I'm blue in the face, but I genuinely think the only barrier--the only real issue--that prevents her from warming to Lucien in the same or a similar way is that heavy, life-altering M-word that got slapped onto them both on arguably the worst day of her life.

He hasn't had the luxury of being around her as part of her family like Az has. Hasn't had the luxury of Elain seeing him fully through her own eyes without the "mate" label being forced into their lives. Yet it doesn't lessen the pull she has towards him, and that combined with everything she's experienced of mates thus far can't exactly be easy to process, especially after a brutal rejection, lost love, and lost future.

She isn't able right now to see the bond as a choice.

She doesn't even get the chance to evolve naturally into seeing it as a choice with the way her family hovers and breathes down her neck. How suddenly the most un-purity culture people in existence magically start caring a great deal about Elain's choices in that regard and insert themselves into chaperone roles like Elain and Lucien are two teenagers who can't control themselves at a junior high dance.

How confusing and contradictory that must be for Elain, who's been condescended and told by her sisters (namely Nesta) that the Fae don't live by human customs when it comes to sex or anything of the like. How the one time she did take that chance with someone she thought she loved it only got thrown back in her face by both Graysen and Nesta?

And what do we know about Lucien? He's devastatingly beautiful. Elegant yet rakish. An intelligent, educated, trained courtier and the son of a high lord. Even Feyre--a happily mated female--can't go five minutes in her internal monologues without noting how attractive and sexy he is even when he's doing absolutely nothing and minding his own business.

She knows he's Feyre's friend. She's heard some of the stories there. So she is aware, then, of at least some of the qualities her sister sees and admires in him despite their current rocky relationship.

Lucien is, in every way, being respectful of Elain's wishes and giving her space even though her rejection hurts him. He's still warring with the guilt of his own lost love in his mind and with a sense of unworthiness. He's been achingly thoughtful towards her; the epitome of a gentleman.

Elain would know that especially with that bond she doesn't fully understand, he's not someone she could simply have a pleasant distraction with. That he's someone who could see through her in every way she wants to hide and that she would never be able to hide in the mere idea that he simply doesn't press her (in the way Az doesn't press her).

Az feels safe right now and someone still attached to her comfort zone. He's a place she can continue to hide without fully facing her present and future and all Prythian is.

She can't hide her pain or suffering from Lucien in the same way. She can't quietly stare out the window into the sunlight without him knowing and feeling exactly what she needs.

She knows--senses--that she won't be able to separate the most vulnerable fragments of herself from her bond with Lucien. Again, a bond she didn't choose, and doesn't currently see that she still has a choice in.

So, she turns away from it in every way she knows how and looks for new ways to do so.

The way people treat Elain when it comes to her love life is so predictably (to her) unlike how Feyre and Nesta have been treated. Elain has always been different from them both, especially when it comes to love and sex. She's more modest and more reserved; has never been the type to fall into bed with some random man or Fae male. She's more guarded; a bit more protective of her own heart.

Maybe, to some extent, there's something she feels she needs to prove to herself. That she can fit within this more sexually liberated Fae world and that she's not some outsider in need of being treated with kid gloves.

Az, in that capacity, is definitely not someone who will. He's also not someone she can't keep her guard up with and can't keep her vulnerability from.

It would not surprise me either if there's a part of her that wants to deter Luicen (thinking back to Mor's tactic of deterring Azriel when she slept with Helion), but more strongly and importantly, to deter and distract herself from the bond. She doesn't want to allow herself to feel anything towards him.

The fact that she does feel a strong pull and, more likely than not, an overwhelming attraction of some kind makes me think it wasn't fully coincidence that she approached Az on Solstice when Lucien was in the same house.

I think she very much wanted to tie someone else to what she's feeling and try to get Lucien, the bond, and that dreaded M-word out of her mind.

Running the risk of sounding crude, Az could probably achieve that at least temporarily.

But it'd come right back. It's always been interesting to me that everyone seems to note that their bond is strong despite nothing having happened between them yet.

Until Elain acknowledges that bond and Lucien one way or another, that internal conflict she's clearly feeling is never going to change for her.

Two things can be true at once: we can fully acknowledge that neither Elain nor Lucien had a choice in the bond snapping between them, and that until they face it, neither one of them are going to have much choice in anything else at all. Not beyond a meaningless tangle in the sheets with someone else.

I think it would've been worse in the long run for Elain to learn that the hard way.

I also genuinely don't think Elain understands that there's nothing wrong with her for being different than her sisters or being different than the Fae norms. That there's nothing wrong with her for struggling to process this or for being overwhelmed.

She's still healing. She still has wounds she hasn't addressed. She's still hiding and seeking distractions while growing restless about wanting more from her life and being frustrated by her sisters' low expectations.

Feyre and Nesta love her, and it's not the protectiveness from love in itself that's wrong.

But they're suffocating her.

Lucien is, in every way, a person who never could. He's something so different and "other" than what she's used to both as a human and as a Fae while also being a bridge between those worlds. He can function in both. He can thrive in both.

He can see, perhaps too clearly, all sides of her whether she likes it or not.

I think she also very much senses he's the type she could fall in love with. The type she'll never be able to fully distract herself from if she lets herself fall or take that leap.

Her heart's still wounded, and she's not ready to risk opening that again right now.

That doesn't mean she won't be later on, and that doing so won't be incredibly worth it.

She will never find herself or open that chance up to herself, though, if she also keeps hiding in only the channels she knows. The barriers--intentional or otherwise--set around her by her sisters.

I do think that's inevitably going to be the difference between them, though: Elain and Lucien are going to face their reality and find healing together and in each other, and in the process, are going to end up falling in love. Real, true, soulful love.

Lucien's love is the kind that will leave her wondering why she ever thought she'd known what love is in the first place, and what they could find in each other is the kind of love they both deserve.

I cannot wait to see Elain facing her fears when she's fully free to do so. I can't wait to see her getting to know Lucien without the IC watching their every move and making her feel like a caged animal. I can't wait to see her find her strength, her love, and the fullest extent of her freedom.

That's not to say that Az would not have many wonderful qualities he could offer her too, but the person she's going to find more of herself than she every thought possible with is Lucien.

Az, in my humble opinion, is likely going to end up with someone else. An actual mate where he'll find his own healing alongside.

[pompettepink]

Type of men NOT to date

Dating in the 2020's is so rough! It feels like so many people are just looking for hookups and too many women are getting forced into "situationships" in the hopes that "more" will come out of it, but "more" never happens. Ladies, save yourselves the heartache and leave these type of low level men ALONE

A man who asks "what you bring to the table"

He is thinking transactionally. He wants to know beforehand what act of service he can expect from you in the future. Whatever comes out of your mouth will be his checklist in the relationship and he WILL bring it up when you "fail to meet expectations".

A man who disrupts your peace

A man who is prone to fits of rage and refuses to seek help will take you down with him. He will actively work to destroy your self worth and possessions. Any man coming into your life MUST be giving you peace that is BETTER than the peace you find within yourself.

A man with low quality friends

There's a very high chance that if a man is in his mid to late 20s and is still friends with his highschool buddies they are actively holding him back. There needs to be far more substance in a male friendship than bonding over a band one time in a 10th grade science class. Having old time friends is amazing, but everyone in the friend group should be maturing at the same pace and having adult conversations and not just sharing their girlfriends nudes with the homies in the groupchat

A man who listens to Bro Podcasters

Self explanatory. There should be NO reason that a man sees value in anything a violent misogynist has to say. It is NOT NORMAL for a man to take lifestyle advice from broken men who are NOT living the lifestyle they're advocating for (monogamous long term relationship with the intention of marriage and providing for their wife and kids). Unless he is compiling information to loudly denounce those views and see those podcasters as an enemy of men, you have no business dating someone like that

A man who idolizes 50/50 relationships

Expecting your partner to go 50/50 with everything and anything is insecure and immature. In reality you can't ALWAYS split the bills. Sometimes things come up. Like card only payments, cash only payments, misplaced wallet, dead phone, payment deadline, accidents etc etc. If he expects every instance involving money to be split into two equal bills he WILL be resentful towards you if you fail to deliver. He should also be more than happy to spoil you when he can and pay in full

A man who struggles building relationships with women

You aren't going to be any different just because he's fucking you. And this isn't about a struggle that results from trauma (abusive mom). This is about ANY woman in his life. If he can't connect with his sisters and can't "really" explain "why", or if he's never had a female friend, that's a red flag. It's most likely that he can't build relationships with women who he isn't sexually attracted to, making him more likely to misconstrued any interaction with a pretty woman as grounds to cheat

An unkempt man

He doesn't need to be the world's best dresser, but he MUST care about his appearance. You two will be seen together constantly and in social settings others will view you as a single unit. You are doing a disservice to yourself by being with a man who has a hands-off attitude with the way he presents himself and always choices to go out with wrinkled stained clothes, dirty hair, a smelly outfit, and a wardrobe full of holes and filth

A man who moves too fast

Why is this man trying to get you into bed yet he doesn't even know your last name? Casual flings are totally fine and super appropriate for any adult to be a part of. But if you're looking to seriously date you HAVE to be picky. Even if your connection is magnetic off the bat restraint should be shown until the commitment is there. If you tell him you only want to have sex with a committed man and he gets mad, pressures you, or asks you to be official on the spot and then have sex afterwards, he just wants to orgasm, nothing more

A man who's all talk and no action

If a man talks about how close he feels to you, but doesn't try to commit, he's keeping you away from love. If a man romantically messages you everyday, but doesn't take you on a date, he's a pen pal. If he's always talking about going for a big promotion, but doesn't put in the work the position requires, he's just a job holder. Actions speak louder than words and if he wanted to, he would

A man who struggles with handling you

Far too many men couple up with talented, sexy, smart, extrovert women, then try to change them when they become official because they can't keep up with her. If she was a sexy dresser BEFORE you started dating, you should expect the same WHILE you're dating. If she was always having deeply intellectual conversations BEFORE you started dating, you should expect the same WHILE you're dating. If she had a large group of friends that she loved hanging out with BEFORE you started dating, you should expect the same WHILE you're dating. If he can't keep up with you then he shouldn't take up space in your circle

A man who is incompetent with chores

Need I say more? Chores aren't rocket science. If he can't cook a meal from start to finish you'll be forced to be his personal chef. If he can't do a load of laundry you'll be forced to be his laundromat. If he doesn't know how to sweep, mop, or vacuum you'll be forced to be his maid. Never choose to be a servant when well rounded men exist in the dating pool

A man who doesn't boast about you

He should be proud to have you as his partner. Everyone in his life should know that you two are dating. He should want to walk behind you and open doors for you so that everyone can see you before they see him. He should always want to hold your hand and feel disgusted when other people hit on him. If he says he "lives a private life" and doesn't want to post you on his social media or be seen kissing you in public it's because he doesn't want his wife and other girlfriend to catch him cheating

Never let anyone convince you that it's impossible to find a man of quality because "your standards are too high". You're the prize and for your sake you should never expect the bare minimum for love

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Could i request G, I, L, O, and U for Mihawk with the alphabet please? I love your takes on these characters.

Aww, thank you!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

His love for you isn't a game, but by god does he love the thrill of a good hunt. His darling being feisty is ideal for him. With his dream already being well achieved, he's honestly quite bored in his day to day life. Terrorizing random pirates that irk him in one way or another only entertains him so much. He needs something with real substance, and that comes in the form of playing a cat and mouse game with you (he frequently calls you his little mouse as a term of endearment and slight teasing jab).

Fighting back against him and running away is an extremely frustrating process, and not just because of how unsuccessful it is. No, it's his attitude that drives you up the wall. He keeps giving you critiques and pointers. You tried to run while he slept? He's admonishing you for not even trying to drug or poison him. You tried to fight him? He's correcting your stance, your hold on the weapon, and your technique the entire time. You made some elaborate escape plan? He calls it cliche and says that he knows you can do better than that. All of this combined almost makes you want to throw in the towel and sit quietly in his castle just to spite him.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

While he adores the fun of you running away and fighting him, he does hope that you'll settle down and come to love him eventually. Even then, he still wants you to be a little feisty. Like having some playfully sharp banter and doing little things to get a rise out of each other. Think like a somewhat vitriolic spin on a Morticia and Gomez Addams type relationship.

Outside of that, he wants to have a quaint life with you in his castle. He'd also like to teach you how to fight with a sword because he does want you to be self sufficient to a degree, plus he considers it to be a fun bonding activity. Once you've calmed down, he plans to marry you. The rings will be uniquely gothic yet simple, and you'll have a quiet ceremony in his garden... At least it was quiet until Shanks and company showed up because they someone caught wind of this despite Mihawk's best effort.

Mihawk isn't super interested in children, but he doesn't hate the idea either. On one hand, he thinks that Perona's spontaneous appearances are enough, but if you two were to have a surprise baby or some kid washed up on shore, he wouldn't be upset about it.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

In hindsight, it's a little embarrassing how easily he drew you in. Mihawk is an attractive and charming man. The first interactions are short and sweet. They give you a taste while still maintaining an air of mystery. He gives you little gifts, like an article of clothing that he thought would suit you or some well-aged wine that he made himself. After that stage, he offers for you to come have dinner at his home. At that point, he's been a suave gentleman, so you see no reason to turn down him. What you don't realize is that he has no intention of letting you leave once you're there. That will be an after dinner surprise for you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Beyond trapping you on his island, you're pretty much free to do whatever your heart desires. He won't even disarm you because as mentioned in G, he loves a good fight. On top of that, he won't force you to do anything with him besides just staying on the island. If you two kiss, it's only going to be because you initiated it. He wants you to want him, and he also admittedly gets a kick out of how annoyed you are when you start to want him due to him being one of the very few people you ever get to interact with. He won't harm you either because he simply finds no reason to. It's not like you're going to be any real threat to him, so hurting you would be like a hunter giving a handicap to a baby deer.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

A few things: He enjoys your fighting and escape attempts, he's shockingly respectful of some of your boundaries, and he isn't prone to jealousy.

[tobiasdrake]

I've been loving your talks over the different dynamics between the various cast members of Dragonball and am kinda surprised no one's asked this one yet and you only really gave it a brief mention.

I would like to hear about Goku and Krillin's dynamic. They're the two I love seeing interact the most together and would love to see your takes and analysis.

Goku loves Krillin. Krillin is up there with Bulma, Chi-Chi, and Gohan in the category of Most Important People to him.

(No snubbing intended towards Goten; It's just that we've never gotten to see Goku and Goten spend any amount of time together, like, at all. We have no idea what their relationship is.)

It's honestly surprising how tight Goku and Krillin's bond is despite how little time they've ever spent with one another.

Although they started out, uh... rocky....

But that only lasted like a day. By the time their training started, it was water under the bridge.

I cannot in good conscience call Goku and Krillin inseparable because they separate for years at a time. That's how Goku is; He goes off on his own and does his own thing, only rarely checking in with his friends. This training session only lasted eight months, and then Krillin didn't see Goku for three years (save for the General Blue mini-arc of RRA.)

But when they are together, they're practically brothers - Even helping each other strategize during the Tenkaichi Budokai.

As an aside, I love the fact that not only is Krillin canonically noseless, it's not just art style, but also he hallucinates smells to compensate. Krillin imagines he's smelling whatever he thinks he should be smelling.

Wonder if he's ever made any bad assumptions?

In any case, the tactical advice isn't one-way either. Krillin helped Goku workshop his match with Tenshinhan too.

Goku was able to solve the Taiyoken/Solar Flare because, in every tournament, he's always got Krillin at his side to talk things over with and discuss the match. At every tournament, Yamcha's the guy who knows all the martial arts lore:

While Krillin is Goku's bestie and sounding board, cheering each other on from backstage and discussing what they're seeing in other matches.

It should be noted that Yamcha's a bro too, he just doesn't get the screentime that Krillin does. He's out of the 22nd Tenkaichi Budokai almost as quickly as it begins, in a way that doesn't let him hang around post-defeat and keep chilling with the others.

He also dies very early in the Saiyan battle so he doesn't get to stick around for the Vegeta dogpile, and then consequently misses the boat on Namek. So his relationship to Goku and Krillin doesn't get to be explored in nearly as much detail as Krillin's relationship to Goku.

Meanwhile, Goku and Krillin's tight bond of mutual respect and trust has saved the world.

It has also endangered the world.

Don't mind him, that's just Krillin over there supporting what he strongly believes to be an apocalyptic mistake because he loves and respects Goku enough to back him up even when he's wrong. Krillin has to make a choice between Goku's desire to fight Vegeta again and win next time, versus the fate of the Earth. He chooses Goku.

Though it did ultimately work out for the best.

In fact, this was his, Gohan's, and Goku's victory together right down to the wire. It was Goku who made Gohan an Oozaru.

But it was Krillin who made it work, by re-evaluating what he knew about the Oozaru and incorporating Saiyan psychology.

Hahaha it turns out Oozarus have been intelligent all along. It's just that transforming fills them with hyper-violent Saiyan aggression. Wonder if that's going to come up with any other transformations in the future?

Krillin, Goku, and Gohan all earned this victory together. And then Krillin and Goku chose to endanger the Earth for Goku's self-interest together.

Though it did ultimately work out for the best. In part because of Krillin's own machinations.

Dragon Ball is very much a protagonist-centric series. It's the story of Son Goku, even when it briefly tries to be the story of Son Gohan. And so what Krillin means to Goku extends outwards to what Krillin means to Dragon Ball as a whole.

And what Krillin means to Goku (and what Goku means to Krillin) is a lot.

Their relationship flourishes onscreen any time they're together. There's never any doubt that these two can rely on one another to have each other's back.

It's Krillin who even makes the plan to go to Namek in the first place.

It's Krillin whose mind Goku consults for guidance and a recap of what happened on Namek.

And it's Krillin who lights the spark of Goku's ascension.

Of all the humans, Krillin is easily the most important. The one with the most screentime, narrative focus, and examination of his relationship with Goku - A relationship that is depicted, every time it's onscreen, as a powerful bond of respect, teamwork, and love for one another.

Goku comes back to life after seven years of absence and Gohan is the first to jump him, followed by Krillin and then Chi-Chi. Goku's first order of business is meeting his son.

Followed immediately by interrogating Krillin on his family life.

This is just. This is what their relationship is. It honestly doesn't even feel like there's a lot that can even be said about them, because their relationship barely changes or grows in any way; It simply is. A bond of brotherhood carved in stone from very early in the series, that never wavers in its course.

[poetryvampire]

Safe Haven

My heart yearns for the Hellthunder angst. Maybe this is a wee bit self indulgent but I've been thinking about it a lot and just had to get it out there

Summary: Zevlor finds out how Lorroakan treats Rolan.

Words: just over 2k

Cw: abuse, panic attacks, implied sexual abuse, angst, hurt/comfort

Once in Baldur's Gate things were getting better. They had to. There’d be no more ‘sneaking’ around. No more trying to steal pockets of time here and there in the midst of  the chaos of simply trying to stay alive. Rolan had lived for those quiet moments, for the sound of his favourite Hellrider slipping into his tent in the middle of the night. But now they could have something real. Something with stability and- as Rolan hopped with all his might- a future. 

Their bond did flourish despite them being farther apart. Of course Rolan has to stay in Ramazith's tower with his master, whereas Zevlor has a humble apartment in the city. The older man didn't dare ask if Rolan would move in with him if he could, however he made it very clear he was welcome anytime. Even with the apprentice's busy schedule they still spent every second they could at each other's side. It's not long before they’re both completely devoted to each other, even if it’s hard to put into words. Rolan's at Zevlor's every chance he gets, like there's no place in the world he'd rather be. Because there truly isn't.  He adores Zevlor, for his strong and loving nature. Anything Rolan could do to make his life better was the clear choice. He’d been through so much, shouldered so much without asking for anything and Rolan wouldn’t add to his stress. No matter what. 

The paladin doesn't say anything when the visits become less frequent. Ever the gentleman, he won’t be nosey. They’re allowed to have a life outside of each other. He understands Lorroakan's strict and doesn't allow his appearance visitors and hates being interrupted, thus he’s taken to waiting for Rolan instead of checking in on him. But when Rolan leaves him without a word for days on end he starts to worry. Even during all their hardships on the road the younger man had never let a day go by without speaking.

Rolan brushes off any questions. It's always nothing, just his studies or so much work to do. But Zevlor knows him, knows something's wrong, hears the nerves in his voice. He decided not to press matters, just wait and hope for Rolan to confide in him in his own time. But it doesn’t come and the days inbetween only get longer, he barely sees his love once a week. Zevlor tries to prepare himself; he was sure this would happen sooner than later. Rolan is a very handsome young lad, more than the hellrider thought he deserves. He had surely grown tired of the older man and would seek out a more suitable partner. Yet when the wizard does come around he treats him with the same affection as always. It’s puzzling and doesn’t sit right with the paladin.

It's raining buckets the night it happens. Rolan keeps a normal tone but there's a sadness in his eyes that cuts at Zevlor’s heart. He’s trying to sound in good spirits but he’s clearly worn out.  Zevlor pulls him into bed, just for a cuddle and by the way Rolan clings to him it seems to be just what he needed. He’s practically trying to press himself through the older man, who rubs the wizard’s back until the tension starts to ease. Slowly their hands start to travel, Rolan absentmindedly tracing the pattern of ridges on Zevlor’s chest.

“Gods you’re handsome.” Rolan murmurs, finally starting to relax. 

Zevlor chuckled as he rakes his fingers through his beloved’s hair.

“I would say you’re being too kind, but I suppose you are the expert.” Zevlor kissed the top of Rolan’s head as he buried his face in his chest. “Come now, let me see my beautiful boy.” His favourite pet name did not coax the wizard to lift his head, but the rain of kissing on his head and cheek did the trick. In a swift motion Rolan captures Zevlor’s lips, suddenly desperate for his touch he clings to lover as if he may disappear at any moment. The Hellrider’s more than happy to meet his hunger, his hands traveling over Rolan’s slender form. He grips his waist tightly pulling a shudder from him, but a sharp one, rather than pleasurable.   

Zevlor breaks the kiss for a moment before Rolan’s mouth is on him again. 

“I missed you,” he sighs in between kisses. “I missed you so much. I’m so-” 

“It’s okay.” Zevlor coos before one more firm, needly kiss. The words of love die on his lips and are replaced with a frightful gasp as he practically jumps out of his skin. "God's above! Rolan what is this? What's happening?" Zevlors voice is sharp with fear. He head spins, half wondering if he had fallen asleep without realizing it. Rolan's face is littered with cuts and bruises: a deep gash in his left temple, a nasty looking bruise on his left cheek was multicolored as if he had been hit many times in the same place, and his nose looked to be recently broken. 

The last bit of colour drains from Rolan's already pale face, his eyes wide with fear. 

“ No, no no no,” Rolan’s backing away, his hands fly to his face as he mutters a spell. For a moment his face flickers back to normal but returns to his disheveled state a moment later “ Hells, no no!”  

“Rolan!” Zevlor’s barks louder than he had intended. He had a notion of what may be going on but he didn’t want to believe it. “What’s happened to you? Rolan, please!”   

He's never seen the younger man look so distressed in all the years they're known each other. Rolan practically jumps off the bed, skittering away like a frightened cat. His mind was reeling, this was a nightmare and even speaking seemed a struggle.  

 Zevlor’s on his feet, repeating the question as Rolan flees from the room. He never wanted this to happen, especially not like this. Before he knew what he was doing he’s pulling on his robes needing to get as far away from Zevlor as possible. But he doesn’t make it to the door, the former commander yells his name, his voice thundering more threatening than Rolan’s ever heard before. In a second he’s rooted to the spot. 

Rolan doesn’t move. He can’t. He can feel Zevlor behind him, feel his eyes on him but can’t bring himself to look.

“Rolan,” he repeats, voice lower but deadly stern. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

 “I can’t.” the wizard forced out, his head in his hands. Even breathing was painful. His lungs burning trying to hold in the tears. Zevlor was in front of him now, his large hand tight on Rolan’s shoulders holding him in place. “Let me go.” 

“What happened? Who hurt you?” The hellrider demanded feeling that he might combust at any second. “Tell me!” he roars, immediately regretting it. The way Rolan flinches and shirks for him breaks Zevlor’s heart. He must try to steady himself, to be reasonable. 

“Rolan, Please tell me what’s going on. I want to help you.” 

“I’m okay! Really it’s just- it’ll heal and i’ll be-” The wizard stumbles, still hiding his face. 

“You’re not! Has someone attacked you?” Zevlor tries wrenching Rolan’s hands from his face but the way he recoils stops him dead. That and the sight of the matching set of deep bruises on his wrists. “Please let me help you, my heart.” 

“Don’t look at me.” Rolan sobs as tears start to spill. 

“I won’t” Zevlor takes a few steps back, trying to slow his breathing “Just please speak to me.” 

It feels like a lifetime for both of them before the younger man speaks. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He pauses, searching for words. “L-Lorroakan is a very strict master…” 

Bile rose in the paladin’s stomach and heat ripped through his whole being like a deadly fever. He never liked the man, not for a second, but Zevlor hoped the bastard was just a narcissist, unbearable but not cruel. 

“He hurt you? He put his hands on you?” He tried to keep his voice even but his jaw was tight in an effort not to scream. 

“I- he- It’s usually not this bad-” 

“Usually!” Zevlor barked, he began pacing the room. He couldn’t be still, his very blood was turning to venom. “This has happened before? How long has this been going on?” He doesn’t answer but he does need to. 

“Why would you hide this from me?” Grief and hatred are screaming in the Hellrider’s head. How could he have let this happen?  

Rolan only cries, his whole body trembling. Zevlor tries to steady himself yet again, he must keep himself calm. Of course his anger isn’t for Rolan, he doesn’t want to push him farther but something must be done. Seeing his beloved like this is pulling him apart at the seams.  

 Now it’s Zevlor's turn to run for the room leaving Rolan to choke and pant through his cries. He can’t bear the thought of being pathetic in Zevlor’s eyes. Finally the continuous clinking from the bedroom reaches Rolan’s ears, once again fear bubbles in his gut. 

“Zevlor, what-” but as he walks farther in the room he has his answer. The Hellrider’s already dawned his chainmail and his working on his armor. 

“Rolan,” His voice is low and graveled. So unlike the gentle cadence he’s used to hearing from his lover. “I need you to stay here, okay? Promise me that..And don’t open the door for anyone but me. Use any spell you need-” 

“What are you doing?” Rolan shook his head in disbelief. 

“I’m going to kill him.” He spoke flatly.  

“No! No you can’t!” Rolan at Zevlor’s side trying to pull the shining plates off him as a fresh set of tears litter his cheeks. “Zevlor please, you can’t do this!” 

“I can and will.” He continues despite Rolan’s effort. 

“I won’t let you. “ 

“Look at you!” the paladin cried. “What enchantment has he placed on you for you to defend him? Is that why you’ve hidden this?” 

 “No.” Rolan shook, his face red with shame. 

 “There are many horrors of this world I can withstand. This is not one of them.” Zevlor met his eye, his determination clear. “ He won’t hurt you again.” 

“He’ll kill you, he’ll-” 

“A small sacrifice to rid-” 

“No!” Rolan’s voice was raw, on the edge of breaking. His eyes wide and frantic he clawed at Zevlor’s armor as an animal might fight for its life. “You can’t. Zevlor please I love you! I love you more than myself, more than anything, I need you! I can’t lose you Zevlor I’ll die without you- I love you.” 

 The wizard lost his voice in his long shuddering sobs. Zevlor’s armor hit the floor with a heavy thud, his arms around his love in a moment. 

“I’ve got you.” He’s never felt so conflicted but even as his rage seethed his foremost duty was to ease his beloved’s pain. “We can figure this out, we’ll find a way.” 

“He’s mad. He’s only getting worse, but i don’t have to be back until tomorrow evening and-” 

“You can’t go back there.” Zevlor couldn’t keep the horror from his voice. 

“I must!” Rolan pleaded. “ You don’t understand When things don’t go as planned it’s a nightmare. If he thinks something wrong he- the things he’s threatened, Zevlor. I don’t know how far he could go.” 

“We can stop him.” Zevlor’s voice sounds written in stone, a fact not to be questioned. “And end this. Rolan, I know it’s hard but you must tell me everything. We can find a weakness-” 

“Gods, no.” Again the wizard recoils making the paladin’s heart ache.

“Let me help you, my love.” He doesn’t let Rolan shy away; he keeps him in his arms. 

“If you knew what-If you knew everything you wouldn’t love me anymore.” Rolan forces the words, barely a whisper. 

It feels an eternity before he feels Zevlor’s large, warm hands cupping his face and  raising it to his. It’s a soft kiss, gentle and painfully loving. Even in such a state Rolan feels that familiar weakness in his knees. 

“Rolan,” Zevlor’s glassy eyes studied his face, his voice raw with devotion as if he was swear before the gods themselves. “There isn’t a thing that could befall you that could make me stop loving you. Nothing. Nothing you could say or do, no matter how you look, I’m yours as long as you’ll have me.”  

 The younger man whimpers trying to push words through the tightness in his throat but the paladin just kisses him over and over. On Every inch of his face, bruises and all. 

“You’ll always be my beautiful boy.”  Zevlor affirms between kisses causing Rolan to gasp through a flurry of sobs and laughter. “How can I help you, my heart?” 

“ I need you. I just need you here.” Rolan answers immediately, wrapping his arms tight around his love. “Don’t let me go.” 

 Zevlor couldn’t if he wanted to. Though his heart was heavy, burning with rage, all thoughts of vengeance were silenced. His only desire was to keep Rolan as comfortable as he could. Before long he found himself leading the weary tiefling into a steaming bath. Rolan had always adored bathing together and this time was no different. He could see the tension melt from the wizard’s tight shoulders as he washed him, taking care to kiss and praise every part of him as he went. Afterward Rolan was curled in Zevlor’s lap, both of them lost in the simple pleasure of each other’s warmth. Neither fell asleep that night with any doubt that they could not overcome this together.

[minhosimthings]

For Love to Exist: A Hyunjin Fic

Synopsis: In which Aphrodite makes a plan for two loveless souls.

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × Fem!reader, includes rest of Skz (side characters)

Word count: don't know but it's really long

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slow burn, mentions of self harm, and mental abuse, reader is an orphan, mentions of food and drink. She/her pronouns used, reader has scars on her skin

A/N: this is sort of a self indulgent fic for me and it is dedicated to all the people in my life who have made me feel like I am worthy of love again. This is based off of my own experiences due to my abusive past and how I let those go with the help of the people I've met here in university. I based Y/N off of myself (I hope you don't mind) because I feel like Hyunjin would be the type of person to love s person, regardless of their past, and ignorant of their future (and also I'm too delulu for Hyun rn). I dedicate this fic to all the people around the world, who feel that they do not deserve a red heart, and an I love you everyday. I dedicate this fic to the little girl inside of me, who still thinks that she is unworthy of love.

For love to exist, souls should exist too. For love to breathe, souls should take a deep breath too. For love to live, souls should learn how to live too. But for you, souls simply did not exist. They were just imaginary things made up by boring adults to tell children why they married their partners, to mask whatever what going on in reality. Why would anyone believe in souls and hearts and bonds and all that bullshit? Kids, of course, believed it.

You, on the other hand, were taught by cold eyes, ever since forever. Cold eyes had taught you that warm ones always lied and that love was just a fairytale made up to increase the population of earth. Cold eyes told you that June wasn't about pretty flowers and sundresses. They taught you it was about the burning sun and the heatwaves. Cold eyes taught you that flowers were nothing more than biological creations of two genetically unique organisms. Cold eyes taught you that the world was just the Earth, just a globe and that the universe didn't care for a tiny speck like you.

Work, Eat, and sleep. Those were the only things you did with passion. Those were the only things in your life that you noticed and yearned for. It was painful to watch your coworkers at the company, who were below you, enjoy life so much. As chief editor, you had less work than they did, yet they saw life as a chance. They saw life as a chance to enjoy the fruits of the universe, while you still saw life as a scarred being. Funny, how you thought that everyone else was mad to have love in their lives, yet there you were with scars on your chest, both physical and mental, going unnoticed by the minute.

Until Hyunjin came into your life.

Hwang Hyunjin. Step son of your goddamned boss. You were told that he would be working alongside you as both an assistant editor and as a new cartoonist, replacing Mr Park, who had resigned five days ago. You groaned at the idea of having someone follow you all day, asking you if you needed anything. You were better off without an assistant or a cartoonist. But your magazine wasn't the leading magazine in South Korea for no reason. The illustrations provided alongside the thigh slapping articles always provided the greatest entertainment to the millions of readers. Mr Park was an old man, who was always quiet and mostly kept to his drawings, exactly your preference. Someone who doesn't annoy you or ask about your love life because apparently, at 23, a woman has nothing better to do. But a man, your age, who you've heard used to be a singer in a band, yeah that wasn't going to work with you.

Your boss had introduced you guys on his first day. He was.... surprisingly handsome. His eyes were like a kitten's, small and glittery, as if Andromeda had poured all her stars into them. His nose and jawline were so sharp, in total contrast to his gaze, soft and pinkish. You wondered why all those thoughts were coming into your head. Never before had they had even touched your mind, when you saw other men and women around you, no matter how pretty they were.

He worked in silence. Complete silence. He wouldn't even move his chair or anything. The desk on which he worked was so pristine and organized, very much like yours, exactly like yours. But there was an aura with which he worked on piece of paper with a black ink pot that you could only dream of having. It was like the sky favoured him, sunlight illuminating all of his features, including some tiny moles on his face. You couldn't help but admire his serious face, headphones in, with an ink stained brush moving swiftly across paper, tracing the tiny dots and lines of whatever he was making. You had first approached the company as a cartoonist yourself, having the skills because of an art minor. But soon the director saw you better as a journalist and slowly but surely you moved your way up the ladder to become chief editor. And when you saw other people doing something you used to love doing, you wondered if you hadn't accepted the job as an editor, would your life have been so mundane? So brown and still?

"Um Miss Y/N?" A voice broke you out of your stupor, starting you and getting your mind away from the articles on your computer screen. Hyunjin was standing next to you, holding pieces of paper in one hand and his brush in the other. He had a dab of ink sprawled across his nose. Cute, you thought.

"I, uh, finished the illustration for the first article you sent. Are they ok?" He gave you five pieces of paper, all with funny intonations on them, a cookie wearing hat, and an iguana wearing a DJ's glasses. It was cute, really cute you thought, as you gave them back to him, nodding in approval and shooting him a small smile. "You have ink on your nose, did you know that?" You pointed out to him, handing him a tissue from your tissue box, which he took and immediately disappeared behind his computer, wiping his nose aggressively. Cute, so cute.

You usually left work at eight thirty, not too late and not too early that you'd miss your tea. But something made you want to stay back today. Someone, specifically. Hyunjin told you that he usually went home by ten, since he didn't do much during the night. You refrained from telling him when you went, lest he question why you stayed back today.

"Miss Y/N I'll be heading out now. Good night." He held up his olive green bag and waved goodbye to you. Something inside of you wanted to say 'Wanna go together?' but you had always ignored that something so you instead waved back to him and started picking up your things.

That day, the old grandmother at the ramen shop you always went to said something was different about you and told you to smile more. You didn't know whether or not that was a complement but you took it willingly along with spicy ramen with beef.

"Miss Y/N I-" "Hyunjin stop call me Miss. Im your age. Just call me Y/N, alright?" You finally got that sentence out of your mouth after keeping it in for an entire week. An entire week Hyunjin addressed you with honorifics and today you wanted to tell him that just your name was enough. Just your name coming out of his mouth like a sweet melody was alright. "Oh well ok Y/N." He said with some difficulty, feeling awkward not using the proper words. "I wanted to say that lunch break began over two hours ago and you still haven't got up from your seat, so I uh bought you something. I asked your co workers what you usually eat so um yeah." He did what? You looked down at his extended hand, holding a box of your usual Ramyeon and an americano. You silently took the food from his hands, shooting him a quick 'thank you'. He deserved more than that, but at that moment, all your shocked brain could do was that.

Someone cared for you. Someone noticed that you weren't eating. Someone noticed how you stayed on this cold October day. And that was sort of sweet? Someone did that for you and for once it seemed he did not want anything in return. That couldn't be true, you thought as you silently ate your Ramyeon, all the while shooting tiny glances at Hyunjin, who was once again immersed in his drawings. Seeing him so deeply imbued in an art, which provided him a job, was so endearing to look at. He was doing something he enjoyed, while earning money for it. Isn't that what everyone in the world would love?

"Um Hyunjin? Hyunjin." You snapped your fingers in front of Hyunjin, who had his headphones on, with that brush back in his hand. He looked so cute, being broken out of his hypnotised state. His eyes blinked at you for a few seconds, before he took the headphones off and greeted you. "What is it Mi- I mean Y/N?" God he was so handsome. He was in a loose baby blue sweater and white pants today. He looked so dainty and fragile as if you touch him and he'll break. "I uh wanted to thank you again for the food today. Um. Any way I can thank you for it? Maybe buy you a coffee?" You could feel your cheeks getting redder by the moment. Even if he couldn't see the blush, you could definetly feel them. If your guardian angels were watching you right now, they'd be saying 'Y/N get your ass up and stop blushing so much.'. "Oh. Um uh" Hyunjin stuttered for a bit before checking his watch. Nine thirty am. There was still half an hour left to go home, meaning you both had enough time to grab a coffee and perhaps a bagel or something tasty.

"Oh course Y/N. But please do not pay for my food. You need not repay me for lunch." Your pleas for that sentence went unheard, as Hyunjin kept saying that he didn't want anyone to pay for him, reasoning that lunch was a basic human need and he was just helping his co worker out. Something about the way he defended himself and explained things was so adorable. It was like a ferret explaining why it's fur is white and why it's ears are so round.

"This is surprisingly good." You commented, as Hyunjin and you sat by the little round table in the coffee shop, drinking Americans and eating Macarons. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you, watching as you are your pistachio Macaron. "You never had a Macaron before in your life?" You shook your head at his question, trying to swallow your bite of the Macaron quickly, so as to answer his question. "No actually." You managed to cough out after what seemed like five hours of you chewing the sweet dessert. "I don't have a preference for sweet things. I used to but I grew out of it." Hyunjin looked up at you, from staring at his shoes. "You used to? Well I always used to believe that a sweet tooth could never grow out of their preferences. Turns out I was wrong then." The corners of your mouth twitched as your heart itched not to say 'why are you so perfect?' to the man sitting in front of you. "So what musicians do you listen to?" It was now your turn to look up at him with wide eyes. It was funny how both of you were eating food together like two normal human beings, yet neither of you dared to look at each other, or maintain direct eye contact for more than a fraction of a second. "Pardon?" You asked him, eyebrow raised and foot tapping on the floor. He stumbled back a bit and said, in a apologetic tone, "Oh I didn't mean to impose. Im sorry. I just thought, you know we see each other every single day, and I have never gotten to know what my coworker likes a dislikes so um.. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Seeing him apologize like that was like seeing a puppy apologize to a black cat. You probably looked scary right now, with your expression and your rigid figure, so it made sense for Hyunjin to react like that.

"Oh it's alright Hyunjin." You said, shooting him the tiniest smile ever. "People don't really ask me questions about myself that often so I was kind of taken aback." Hyunjin just nodded and hummed in response to your bland statement.

That night, when you went home, you thought to yourself, about how much you missed human interaction. Most often disassociation and loneliness were your favourite drugs, but Hyunjin asking you a simple question about your favourite singer, made those drugs seem pleasure less. Your therapist would have probably looked you up and down and immediately told you that you were in love, being the hopeless romantic he was. People were scared to approach you. You, with your head held high in the air, your gait threatening that of Hera's, and your expression, cool and wicked. But Hyunjin just casually asked you what musicians you listen to, as if he had known you for years and he was meeting up with you again, at a school reunion. It was shocking to you, how he could just say that, without stuttering. Yes he did stutter later on, but it was so adorable the way he apologized to you, hands nervously palming at his fingers and nose silently twitching. Maybe friends weren't so bad after all, you thought, as the stars looked at you in pity, talking amongst themselves, about where had God gone wrong with you.

A sticky note? Your boss never left sticky boss for you. Usually his assistant to deliver you messages. So who wrote this mysterious pink sticky note, stuck to your computer with a smiley and something written on it? You had arrived at work after Hyunjin today, who, once again was is a hypnotic state, lightly bobbing his head to whatever was playing inside of those blue headphones. You slightly suspected that the note was probably his, as you sat down on your chair, hanging your bag in the usual place beside your table. You pulled off the note from the computer and examined it closely. There was something written on it with a glittery purple pen.

I scared you yesterday with my question. So I'm going to ask you through a note. What musicians do you listen to? (PS you can answer through a sticky note too)

You noticed Hyunjin kept giving you small glances from time to time, only taking his eyes away from his art for a fraction of a second. Cute, you thought, really cute. This was by far the cutest thing he had done. You silently took up a glittery blue pen from your drawer and wrote some sentences on a different sticky note, knowing when you were going to stick it.

"Hyunjin could you do me a favour?" You tapped on his desk to alert him. He looked up at you once again, with those same doe eyes. You noticed the ink once again splattered on his nose. "Yeah?" "Could you take this up to Mr Kim once and ask him if this is how he wanted the article to be edited?" You handed him a blue file to take it upto your boss, which is silently took and went up to the boss's office, giving you enough time to stick the note onto his computer. You made a last minute addition to the note, before rushing off to the canteen, lest Hyunjin catches you in your mischievous act. Even though it was just sticking a note to your co worker's computer this felt like the most amazing thing you had ever done in your life, the most daring.

Where had you gone? Hyunjin had come back to his desk after handing off the file to the boss, who said he'd give it back tomorrow, only to find you nowhere to be found. He swore that he had saw you here just a second ago. Where had you gone now? Shrugging his shoulders and telling himself that you had probably taken a bathroom break, he sat back down on his desk, ready to complete the illustrations for the day, that you had given him yesterday, when he noticed something stuck to his computer. A green sticky note. Could it be? Did you respond to his very creepy, weirdo nerd way of asking you a question in order to get to know you better?

When Hyunjin sat down on his chair, and slowly pulled the sticky note out, he sweated that his heart had skipped a hundred beats (or 143 beats hehe). Your loopy handwriting was scrambled on it with sparkly blue ink.

This is very middle school of us to be passing notes in work but I like listening to Lana del Rey, Florence and The Machines, a bit of k-pop and lot of classical music. Now you answer my question along with your own question. What is your favourite ice cream flavour? (PS you have ink on your nose)

Hyunjin's soul was doing backflips in his stomach. Having an obsession for love, he wondered whether this was how Cupid felt like when he shot his first arrow. You listened to the same artist he did. He absent-mindedly wondered about what question to ask you next when you came out from the canteen, carrying lunch for the both of you. "Oh hey Hyunjin." You said in what you hoped wasn't an over active tone. "I uh got you lunch to pay back for when you got me lunch and um here you go." You awkwardly handed him the cup of spicy tteokbokki along with some other dishes and an Americano. As if returning the awkwardness, he mumbled a sheepish 'thank you', grabbed the food and hid behind his desk. Somewhere in the clouds Aphrodite was sighing, not knowing what to do with you two.

After a few hours, when you had gotten up to go the boss's office, Hyunjin saw his golden chance and took it. He scribbled his question onto a pink sticky note and quickly stuck it to your desk, frantically sitting back on his chair and pretending to be focusing on his cartoon which had long been completed.

Happiness. Happiness was all you and Hyunjin felt that night, when both of you parted ways. It was that happiness which a fourteen year old gets when their crush pays attention to them. It was mischievous happiness, as both you went home and pondered about questions and answers. Middle school romance was something neither of you had, with him not finding the correct person, who would love him for who he is, and you just not wanting love anymore. Aphrodite would be probably be smiling right now, twirling her roses and she makes the next part of her plan.

"Hyunjin! Over here!" It was raining very heavily today and you had chosen this very day to not take your car. Apparently Hyunjin had done the same thing, as both of you saw other close to the cafe a distance from your work. He didn't have an umbrella and you had spotted him running over in the direction of your work, blue hoodie gripped tightly over his head. "Did the universe have to choose the day I didn't get my car to rain?" He shouted at you as you both were shielded by your umbrella. "I was thinking the same thing!" You shouted back at him. "Let's get inside the cafe!"

The cafe thankfully wasn't crowded at all, and as you took off your coat and shoes to dry, you appreciated the heat coming from inside the cafe. It was on the more traditional side, with a wooden interior and sepia toned plants hidden in mud pots.

"Oh great." Hyunjin sighed. He was holding his phone is his hands, having taken off his hoodie and his shoes before you did and setting his bag down at a table for two. "Boss just texted. Work's cancelled for three days straight." "So we went through all that rain for nothing?" You deflated on the comfy chair, opposite Hyunjin, who was revealed to be wearing a dark blue shirt underneath his baby blue hoodie. "Well damn it. What do we do now? I didn't bring my car and neither did you. Do we have to wait out the storm here?" You asked him, wiping your face with a handkerchief. "Well we can." Hyunjin responded. "I think the owner will probably let us." You raised a brow at him at that statement while he just stared into space, as if expecting an alien to show up any moment. "How do you know the own-" "HWANG HYUNJIN YOU FINALLY DRAG YOUR ASS HERE TO SEE ME."

A very loud voice rang through the cafe, accompanied by a much quieter 'Hyunjin's here?'. Hyunjin groaned and buried his face in his hands, as a handsome man with olive skin, brown hair, and the prettiest nose ever, came striding up to your table, wearing the uniform of the cafe. He promptly pulled up a chair and collapsed onto it, next to Hyunjin, all the while playfully glaring at him. "Hey Minho hyung." Hyunjin mumbled, not looking directly at whoever this Minho was. The other man clicked his tongue out of disapproval and said, "Say that louder would ya? And why have you not been coming to visit me and emotional dump on me for like two weeks? Oh and who's this lovely young lady?" He looked into your eyes at that last bit, startling you a bit, at how round and black his eyes were, like tiny little boba balls. "I'm Y/N." You extended a hand forward. "L/N Y/N" Minho took your hand and shook it with a firm grip, before getting up and slightly bowing to you. "Well Miss Y/N, may I get you anything? Perhaps something which is not an Americano, which is what this monster" he motioned to Hyunjin "drinks?" You gave him a calculator look before saying, "Oh. Um I would like an americano actually and probably one for Hyunjin too please." Minho looked ever so slightly taken aback by your words. "As you wish!" He declared before giving Hyunjin and a smirk and leaving.

"So who was that?" You asked Hyunjin, whose ears were burning red. With a sigh, he put his elbows on the table, burrying his head in them.

"That was Lee Minho. A college mate of mine, who opened a cafe with a friend of his, soon after graduation, because apparently he didn't want to get into a boring job." He chuckled slightly at that. "He's a mentor to me. He's like I think two years older than me and he treats me like a damn baby. But it's fine cause I'm the one who helped him cheat on his exams so I get free shit here."

"Americano for two?" Oh hey Hyunjin!" A freckled boy had come up to your table, americano filled cups in his hand. His skin was porcelain, like glass, dotted with star like freckles, with blonde hair framing his beautiful face. "Hey Lix." Hyunjin patted the boy's back, as he set the coffee down on the table. "How's your mum now? Is the treatment working?" A smile never seemed to leave this boy's face, as he sat down in the chair which Minho had pulled up earlier. "She's good now. Much better! I've been sending her some brownies every now and then but she's still disappointed because apparently her son won't get a girlfriend." He slightly pouted as Hyunjin chuckled lightly. "Oh who's this? Wait are you-" the boy looked at you with excited eyes, before gasping and turning his head to Hyunjin. "Is this the Y/N you told me about?" He excitedly extended a hand towards you, which you took, experience pleasure at his soft grip and hands, which was in stark contrast to Minho's handshake. "I'm Felix! Lee Felix. Nice to meet you! Y/N right?" The amount of happiness radiating from this boy was so much that you thought he was probably the reincarnation of Helios himself. "Nice to meet you too Felix. I'd introduce myself, but judging from your excitement I believe Hyunjin's already told you about me." You gave him a smile, which he returned. "Yah Felix!" Minho's voice came from across the wooden walls. Felix groaned and got up from his chair saying goodbye to both of you and rushing off to Minho.

"They're really nice." You told Hyunjin, sipping on your americano. It was nice and weird to have people like you for who you are. It was kind of alien to you, to meet two people who knew about you. It was even more alien of Hyunjin to tell people about you. What could people tell about you? What fragments of your being attracted Hyunjin that he told his friends about your existence?

"Y/N are you ok?" Hyunjin's voice broke your mind from staring at the rain pouring outside. The storm had calmed down now and it was just lightly drizzling, drops staining the window, racing against each other. "Oh yes I'm good. Sorry."

"So you wanna talk about the notes or should we keep it a middle school secret?" Hyunjin's question rang across your brain, and as you sipped on your americano, you couldn't help but notice how innocent that question was. It was just a question. It wasn't an interrogative question, which you'd be punished for if you didn't answer. You fingers unconsciously went up to your wrists when you thought about that question. "What do you suggest? I'm alright with answering the question in person, instead of exchanging notes." You responded, keeping your tone casual, so as to not reveal the fast pace of your heart beat.

Hyunjin smiled at you and sipped on his americano again. "My favourite ice cream flavour is pistachio. And I also like listening to Lana del Rey and classical music. My turn now." He leaned forward slightly. "A song which you could listen to, for all eternity?" Musical questions were what you enjoyed the most, having being in love with music ever since your ears picked up the tune of twinkle twinkle little star. Hyunjin's question seemed hard, since your favourite song changed every few seconds and you couldn't just choose one melody to pleasure your ears for all of eternity. "Hmm" you responded after a while. "Probably Love by Lana Del Rey." "Why so?" Hyunjin asked.

"Because along with having an amazing tune and the greatest vocals ever," you started your lecture "It's also such a deep song. The way she is symbolising young love is so beautiful, from the way she alters her voice at certain lines to the lyrics themselves. I especially fell in love with the chorus because it signifies such a beautiful matter of being so much in love that even the tiniest actions can seem like elephantine gestures. Even that lyric 'The world is yours and you can't refuse it' it's so pretty. It's symbolising that feeling of ruling the world when you fall in love. Or atleast I think it does. I've never fell in love so."

You fell quiet after your rambling, hoping that it didn't freak him out how much you knew about one particular song, which you definetly did not write an entire essay about. L/n Y/n you've done it again. You've scared a person off because of your rambling about your hyperfixation because you have nothing else to love. Great job, you thought.

But as you looked over at Hyunjin's face, it was happy? His eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted as if thinking what to say, his americano straw remained in his mouth, but he wasn't sipping on it. He was in total awe, something you couldn't see.

"That- that was amazing." He said after a pregnant silence. "I never thought about songs that way honestly. But I think from now on I'll start thinking of it like that." God his smile was so handsome. The way the corners of his mouth stretched and the way his lips always slightly parted, it was all so pretty. And since when have you became so observant? To notice a man's manner of smiling?

Aphrodite smiled again in the clouds, calling for her chariot, to take a ride across the sky, making up the next step of her masterplan.

It was still pitter-pattering outside the window as both of you finished your drinks. You declined Minho's offer to eat, since you had already ate a lot for breakfast and you weren't feeling hungry. You tasted a bit of Felix's brownies, for which you complemented the freckled boy so mich to point where his glass skin turned into stained red glass.

"God the rain is stopping, how the hell are we going to get home?" Hyunjin sighed, as he meant back in his chair. You both had put your shoes, hoodie and coat back on and were staring out the window. You had an idea in your mind. A peculiar idea. An idea unlike you. An idea made by your heart controlled mind. You know how they say that we should never let our heart control our brain? Well sometimes, just sometimes, in the tiniest moments, we could let it control our being just a little bit.

"Doyouwanttocomeovertomyhouseitsreallycloseby" "I beg your pardon?" Oh great you spoke the easiest sentence in the fastest way you could possibly imagine. You should probably get the Nobel Prize for the most awkward person ever. Taking a deep breath, you made eye contact with Hyunjin (perhaps for the first time) and said, "Would you like to come over to my house? It's close by and I can drop you off at your house if I get my car." Hyunjin looked slightly taken aback by your suggestion, and as he pondered over it with a series of 'ohs' and 'ums', you mentally scolded yourself. How could you never say the right thing ever? How did you manage to say the wrong thing every single time? How did you manage to scare off every person every single time? Were you really not capable of love? Was your mother really right?

"If I don't impose Y/N, I would like to come over to your house. I should actually probably get going home too, so I accept your offer, only if it doesn't bother you." Your heart lifted from where it was earlier. Listening to the words coming out of Hyunjin's mouth in the soft tone, was something so comforting to you. It was like the smell of old books, like the way flowers moved in the wind, like the way wine swirled in a wine glass and like the way melodies danced to the beat of a song.

"This is your house?" You and Hyunjin had walked all the way to your house, shielded by his umbrella. It was safe to say that your house was a very luxurious one, in the more expensive side, courtesy to your high profile job. It was a two bedroom house, with the most beautiful terrace and balcony anyone had ever seen, which gave a view of the Seoul skyline. "It's beautiful." Hyunjin breathed out. "Come inside." You said, taking off your shoes at the entrance and unlocking the wooden door. "Want some food?" Hyunjin shook his head as both of you entered your house, his mouth dropping on seeing the interior. You had a conversation pit inside your house, much like one of those 80's sitcoms, and it was the most queer thing in your house. It was purple and magenta, with white finishings and a pretty carpet, sitting below a glass table. "It seems the interior is much prettier than the exterior." Hyunjin said, as you both entered the pit, sitting down. You sheepishly smiled and mumbled a thank you, before getting up to get him some water, even though you both had downed a big cup of americano.

"Your books are really interesting." You had started showing Hyunjin around your house, and when you reached the library portion, he wouldn't move from there. Granted, you did have a pretty library, decorated with fake moss and hanging vines, which made it look like a shelf growing out of the forest. "What is so interesting about them?" You asked him as he stroked the book covers with his fingers, to which he smiled and pointed to the last two books. "Their arrangment is fascinating first of all. I mean The Animal Farm and Pride and Prejudice are sitting together, as if going for a tea party. Did you arrange them yourself?" You only nodded to his question, too scared to answer. "The second interesting thing about this bookshelf is that all the books are so dual to each other. You have Harry Potter-" he pointed to the topmost shelf, "then you have 1984-" his fingers went to a handsome leather book, "and then finally you have a pop up children'd book." He laughed pointing to the bottom most shelf, where a glittery pink book lie. You blushed, as you saw that book. It was the book, which your best friend at the orphanage had given to you, before she was taken away. You cherished it a lot, it being the only form of love you had ever recieved in your life. "Woah you have Taylor Caldwell too!" Hyunjin said, excitedly, his fingers bouncing on the shelf closest to him, where a series of faded books lie. "Do you want them perhaps?" You asked him, to which he gave you a sad smile. "I've always loved her since the age of eleven but I could never buy any of her books, courtesy to my mum thinking they're too 'westernised'." "You can take some if you want. I hardly ever read these ones." You pulled out some of the books and put them in his hands. He looked surprised and his eyes widened at you. After much trial and error, which included him refusing to take the books, and you threatening to leave him out in the rain if he didn't take them, he finally stuffed then into his bag, thanking you over and over again.

The car ride to his home was fun, to say the least. Hyunjin narrated some funny stories with Minho and Felix, and a few of his other friends. You were shocked to find out that he used to be in a band, where he played the drums. "You must play them for me one day." You said, as you pulled up to a light. "as payback for the books." Hyunjin gave you that sweet smile again, causing your brain to malfunction.

"Thank you for the ride home Y/N. And for the books." Hyunjin said as you both pulled up to his house. "Say I have a question." He said, before unbuckling his seatbelt (drive safely kids). "Would you ever be interested in spending your lunch break with me everyday? Cause I really like talking to you and I don't have many friends at work. Only if you want to though!" God he was so adorable with those round eyes and those cute cheeks. Was he actually so cute or was your hopeless brain just making it up?

Aphrodite sighed again as she watched you silently from the bushes, happy that you were going on the right path, but worried about the trajectory of your mind.

Spending time with Hyunjin were the best moments of your life. It was surprisingly fun to spend a part of your day everyday with Hyunjin. It was just lunch and americanos, fresh from Minho's cafe, since it was the only one you liked now. You warmed up to him more than you had wanted to, and for the first time, your brain didn't mind being ruled by your heart. Hyunjin had introduced you to some of his closest friend, who came to visit him at work, making sure he didn't overwork himself. And he had interesting friends. Apart from Minho and Felix, there was a producer group called 3Racha who wrote songs for a company called JYP. It was composed of the three most kindest people you had ever met. Jisung, Changbin and Chan treated you like their own sister, often picking up an Americano for you whenever they got one for Hyunjin. You met Hyunjin's youngest friends Seungmin and Jeongin at Minho's cafe, when Jeongin bumped into your shoulder, dropping his books and apologizing to you frantically. Both of them were University students, one having a pottery studio and the other studying computer science. They were mischievous little things, but you loved them too, with you sharing Seungmin's love for pottery and Jeongin's hatred for sugary foods. It was so fun, having friends, even if they weren't your friends from the beginning. This was the first time you had experienced happiness ever since you were eight.

The words on your books weren't skimmed over by your eyes anymore. Instead they were carefully taken in, word by word, appreciating how every letter formed the beautiful sentence. Now, winter wasn't about surviving anymore. Instead it was about being warm and cosy, all wrapped up in a big blanket, hugging a plushie and drinking hot chocolate as pretty winter flakes poured outside the window. Now you digged out the sundresses you haven't worn in so long, and you would wear them to work every now and then, catching the eyes of every person you passed (because you are the most beautiful person on earth LOVE YOURSELF I LOVE YOU). You never noticed it, but now, Hyunjin looked at you differently. He wasn't a very defensive person, choosing to end arguments quickly, but whenever his eyes set upon your figure dancing in a yellow sundress, embroidered with flowers, he swore that he would burn done the entire world for you. Both of you regularly met up at each other's house, having k drama nights, where you would do nothing but cry over the slow burn, and try out a new snack from the local convenience store every time. Sometimes Hyunjin would play the drums for you, taking your excited requests of the 70's and 80's rock songs. It was all so perfect, having Hyunjin in your life and every time you saw him moving his own across a piece of paper, whipping up a cartoon for you as a gift, your heart smiled, urging you to let it take over for just a little longer.

But Aphrodite had something else in plan.

Sometimes the Gods plan sinister things for humans. Sometimes they say 'lets whip up conflict'. And most often it's not between one human and another. Most often it's between a human and her own mind. You had gotten a call on a nice Thursday morning, when you were about to set out for work, clad in a white dress, which reached your knees. A call from your adoptive parents. Unbeknownst to the entire world, behind your pretty face, you hid a grief filled secret behind those glassy eyes. Your childhood wasn't all sunshines and rainbows. You had grown up in an orphanage basically your entire life, and at the tender age of eleven, you had gotten adopted by a rich couple. Good right? Nope it was the polar opposite. Turns out they had adopted you for their own benefit, to gain support from the media to continue their company or some bullshit like that. It had haunted you all your life, how they would never speak a word to you, never a word of affection. It was just words of 'who would ever love you?' and 'you aren't capable of love'. When you had gotten accepted in college, with a full ride scholarship, they had help a party, not for you, but to brag that their daughter, whom they did not even love, had gotten into a college all by herself. They had turned their devil tails into angel wings and it angered you, but you stayed silent. Why should you fight battles with other people when you could fight a battle with your own mind? You had cut off all communications with them however as soon as you left for college. Now it was just you and the world. Getting a job was the hardest thing and you still remember all those days that you survived on water and biscuits, like Marie Curie, when she used to research on radioactivity. You had learnt that your 'parents's' buisness had gone bankrupt, soon after you had gotten a job, but they still hadn't ever contacted you until this Thursday. It was Seungmin's birthday today and you had gotten him a puppy keychain, one that he had been wanting for a long time, which he had told you about in secret. You had purchased it the day before and wrapped it up in a cute box, writing some notes on the top. It was supposed to be the most perfect day. Happiness and melted ice cream that was what this day was supposed to be.

"Hello?" You had picked up your mother's call and your world came crashing down immediately. "Hey there Y/N. We need some money right now and we know you work for Mr Kim. Send us some money please." Not even a hello. The woman who had given you food and shelter didn't even say a hello. The woman who you owed nothing to didn't even say hello.

Hyunjin wondered where you were that day. You wouldn't ever miss a day of work and plus you were excited for Seungmin's birthday. You were going to go for a birthday party which was to be held at Chan's house. Hyunjin had told you that most of the boys would be bringing their girlfriends so you could meet them. You wouldn't never have missed this, especially not when your eyes lit up, when he had told you that Seungmin would be singing for you guys and Minho would be bringing his famous meat. So why? Why was your chair lying all alone and your americano untouched? He had asked Mr Kim whether you had called him today, to which he got disappointment when Mr Kim said no. Your boss didn't really care whether or not you took breaks, since you mostly finished your work in advance, in order to save time. That day Hyunjin told the guys, that he wouldn't be coming to the party, much to their disappointment. But they understood when he said that he was worried for you. He basically talked about you 24/7 and the boys still didn't understand how their most romantic friend ever ended up not knowing what love was.

Hyunjin had an extra key to your house, which you had given him after two months of knowing him, trusting him enough to keep an emergency contact. Hyunjin kept fiddling with it on the cab ride to your place, massaging his nerves to calm himself down. As he reached your house, the atmosphere around him changed. It became gloomy, even when the Sun attacked him with his rays. The sunflowers in your garden all seemed to bow their heads to him, as if to apologise.

"Y/N?" Hyunjin stepped inside your house, calling your name. "Y/N where are you?" He shouted a little louder this time. If you weren't in the living room, you'd be up in your bedroom or the library. Hyunjin slowly climbed up the stairs to the second floor, taking in the eerie silence of the house. It was such a loud silence. He could hear something in the distance but he didn't know what it was. Was it a cat? He heard a wailing noise that sounded something like a wolf crying.

The door to your bedroom was open. Hyunjin stepped inside, careful not to make a sound. He knew how creepy this was, to enter a person's house like this, but he didn't have a choice. "Y/N?" He called out, noticing the light in your bathroom switched on. "Y/N!" You were sitting on the floor, with a knife next to you. Your hair was in tangles and your body swayed back and forth, As you kept mumbling something to yourself. Your upper arm was slightly bleeding and your breathing was heavy. You had been lying there for the entire morning. You were still in your dress,which was now stained with blood from your arm. Your face was tear stained and your eyes were glassy. "Y/n. Hey look at me. Look at me. I'm here." You looked up to see Hyunjin's worried face, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted again. "Hyunjin?" You breathed out in a weak voice, which made Hyunjin's heart drop to his knees. "Yes it's me. Hey breathe. Please breathe for me." He coached you through breathing in and out, which calmed you down a bit, but you were still shivering and your skin was ice cold and white. You looked like a ghost. A ghost with sunken eyes and shocked expression stuck on its face.

Hyunjin carefully lifted you up and carried you to your bed, careful not to disturb your injury, which he immediately knew how it happened, from the knife lying beside you. He got some cloth and medicine for you from the first aid kit you hid under your bed, something you had told him a long time ago. You watched him with wide eyes as he carefully dressed your wound and got some water for you, forcing you to drink it.

"What happened? And it's ok if you don't wanna tell me." He sat beside you as you leant back against the bed frame. You tried not to catch his eye because you knew if you looked into those galaxies inside his eyes, you would start weeping. "Nothing happened Hyunjin." You mumbled, to which he scoffed silently, getting his hand up to your forehead to check your temperature. It was normal, thankfully you didn't have a fever. "Y/n" he faced you and out his hand on yours. "You know you can tell me right? I'm here for you and I'm worried. Please tell me what happened." It all happened so quickly. You looked into his eyes, taking in the stars inside of them, and you couldn't hold it back anymore as you burst out crying. Hyunjin was quick to hug you, holding your head gently as you buried yourself deeper in his chest, staining his grey shirt. His heart was breaking into a milion pieces, seeing his universe crying out her planets from her eyes. He shushed you from time to time, to make sure you don't become weak from crying.

"Y/N hey hey." He held you head in his hands, cupping your cheeks. "What's wrong? Just one word. Tell me one word. I beg you." You sniffled slightly and looked up at him, stopping you're tears slowly. You felt guilty, for him coming to you. Why should he? He's a human like you and he has responsibilities too and he should tend to them, not you. "Hyunjin, you should go. Y-you have S-Seungmin's party to attend. I'll be fine." Hyunjin knew how much you rejected being taken care of. Care was was word which simply never existed in your dictionary, courtesy to your past.

"Y/N-" "No Hyunjin!" You lashed out at him, tears brewing again in your eyes. Hyunjin now understood why the sunflowers outside had bowed to him, and why the aura was grey today. You had bottled up your feelings again, and one single word from a person of your past, was enough to break you. "I don't want help I don't need it! Just leave me alone! I don't want to be around you!" You panted a bit after shouting all that, your chest feeling heavy, not from the weight of your exhaustion, but from the weight of the entire world around you "Get out. Now."

The next few days, you came back to work, you avoided Hyunjin. You couldn't bear to look at his face, knowing that the stars in your eyes will collapse again if you do. You both worked in complete silence, with Hyunjin silently putting the completed illustrations in your desk, whenever you left to go to the bathroom. You now left at 9 am, instead of your usual 10 am along with Hyunjin. Your americanos seemed even more bitter now that you had no one to share your memories with. Every song in the world sounded like the same mundane melody now, chords repeating over and over again.

But Aphrodite always have something in plan, for souls like yours and Hyunjin's.

Hyunjin had been comforted by his friends for a week now. Every week, he would turn up at either Felix or Chan's house and cry to them. It broke their hearts to see their dearest friend weep and sob over you. You, on the other hand, would sometimes turn up to Minho, drinking his americano and venting your feelings, while he silently grilled his meat and put it on your plate. What you didn't know was that Hyunjin would be hiding silently behind the counter, listening to the notes of your voice talk about him. So one fine Saturday morning, he decided to do something. Something that would finally satisfy Aphrodite, and make her drop her roses down to earth to celebrate.

"Y/N." He called your name as you focused on your most recent article. "Y/N." He said again, when you didn't respond. "Y/N for Pete's sake, talk to me!" He basically shouted at you. You were staying back late tonight, courtesy to the hundreds of things you had to edit, due to your numerous amount of holidays. "Not now Hyunjin. I have to edit this." You spoke sternly, abandoning the fun filled voice you usually used when you were with him.

Hyunjin frowned at you, this time an actual frown, not like the playful ones he did when you would steal his meat from his plate. He was angry. He was angry at the world and at your mind for not treating you well. He was angry at your past, for making you believe that you were unworthy of love. He was furious and he would take it out right now, when no one except for you two were in the office building.

"Y/N listen to me!" He shouted, making you startled. You had gotten up from your seat and now you were cowering against a wall. You had never seen Hyunjin like this before, eyes narrowed and lips closed, burning anger seeping through them.

"Y/N you are quite possibly the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure to meet in my stupid life. The way you walk the way you talk, everything about you is so amazing! It's so magnificent to me, how everyday you would explain the meaning behind a song, with your eyes all widened and your mouth moving fast! And it hurts me. It hurts me so much to see you like this, thinking that you are unworthy of love." His words were hitting you like bowling balls. "When you told me about your past, you know what I felt? I felt anger. True anger for the first time in my life. For the first time in my life, I wanted to burn down this entire world for a person. I was also so relieved that you trusted me enough to tell me about something like this. You really think I can't see the scars on your wrist through your foundation?" The scars on your wrist. How did he know about that? "Hyunjin-" you breathed out, crystals forming in your eyes again. "Y/N it breaks me. It breaks me so much to have a person like you in my life and not love them. I love you more than you can imagine. So why won't you accept it?"

"Because I can't!" The words spilled from your mouth like water spilling from a waterfall. "I can't Hyunjin! I don't know what love feels like! I never did! An-and when you came into my life and introduce me to all these amazing people, I felt so happy! For the first time in this dumb thing I call my life I felt happy. And I hated it! I hated the way Felix's eyes would light up every time he saw me. I hated the way Chan would always check up on me, making sure I don't overwork myself. I hated the way Minho would treat me like his own family, making sure I got the biggest portions of meat." Everything that you had kept hidden in that crack of your soul came running out. "I hated the way Jeongin looks up to me, telling me he admires the way I work! And you know what I hate the most out of all? I hate you! I hate the way you care so much for me and my stupid brain can't see it! The way you draw little cartoons on my americanos, the way you talk to me as if you were talking to a gentle lamb! I hate it Hyunjin! I hate myself for not seeing how much you love me! And I hate that I can't return the favour!"

Your knees gave way and you collapsed on the floor, sobbing your eyes out. Hyunjin was quick to kneel down next to you, hands searching for yours. Both of you looked into each other's eyes, seeing your entire universe's inside of them. You need love. You needed love to exist. And Hyunjin was there just to do that.

He leaned closer to you, eyes not leaving yours. He knew he had to do it now. Now or never right? Hyunjin, cupped your cheek with his left hand, right one still squeezing yours, and kissed you. He kissed you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you as if you were the reincarnation of his last lover. He kissed you as if he had been wanting to kiss you for the last fifteen years. He kissed you, and you kissed him back. Your lips moved in sync with his, not moving away, hands wrapped safely around each other, both of you shielded from whatever the world was planning next. Time moved slowly again, as if the spinners of time had abandoned their looms to come watch you two.

And somewhere in the clouds, Aphrodite smiled, knowing that her mission was complete, and that two loveless souls had finally reunited, mending each other's cracks, slowly but surely.

Epilouge

"Hyunjin! We're going to be late! Hurry your ass!" You called out to your boyfriend of five years, as you waited by the door, bag clutched in hand, and white sundress flowing softly. The ash coloured cat you had both adopted, rubbed against your legs, purring and licking herself. Hyunjin had organised a 'special' date today, taking you to one of your most favourite places, a meadow by the beach, where you used to spend your days. It was already late in tbe evening, when Hyunjin finally came down from the steps of your house, still fixing his hair. "Alright Miss Universe, stop fixing your hair and come on!" You said, causing him to giggle, as both of you got in the car and drove off towards the sunset.

"God I love this place so much." You stretched your arms as you watched the dying sun, collapse into the ocean. "More than me?" Hyunjin pouted, as you slapped his chest playfully. "Oh god are those Minho's Macarons? These things are drugs to me." Both of you took a Macaron each, and raised them in the air, as if to make a toast. "Well, to our five year anniversary." Hyunjin toasted while you said 'hear hear!'.

"Y/N, I have a gift for you." You both had eaten all your food and we're slightly leaning against a tree, wrapped in each other's warmth. "What is it Hyun?" Hyunjin pulled out a paper from his pocket. A link sticky note. With Purple glitter pen scribbled on it.

Marry me Y/N?

"I thought I should do it in the way we first talked to each other. You know to make it more roma-" Hyunjin didn't get to complete his sentence, as you threw yourself around him, kissing him on his lips, as if you didn't kiss him every single day.

And Aphrodite couldn't stop giggling and smiling, knowing that now, love existed. And you? Oh you loved the existence of love.