#(insomuch as it counts as an AU)

[kiaxet]

Everyone else's Rise Agent Bishop: Hypercompetent, terrifying, metaphorically and literally inhuman, next arc villain material

Site 39 Agent Bishop: Paranoid ex-special ops agent turned defense worker, failed to get the funding for the EPF, generally powerless

Me: Absolutely zero regrets about this whole situation

[sanjoongie]

Your soulmate's on the dancefloor

🍒My submission for @pirateeznet's First Anniversary. I love this net and family and crew🥹 🍒Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader (f) 🍒Quiz result: Going to a club and knowing a stranger far too well- deja vu 🍒Prompt: Eye Contact for far too long, finishing each others sentences, and laughing too hard over nothing at all 🍒Song for inspiration: I don't know why by NOTD 🍒Genre/au/trope: smut, club au, s2l 🍒Word Count: 2,339 🍒Warnings: mentions of drinking (neither reader nor wooyoung are drunk), public sex, sex in a washroom, exhibitionism, breast play, fingering/jerking off foreplay, penetrative sex with a condom, I like you! Wooyoung still fucks me up to this day, he's a panty stealer too okay, yes 🍒Rating: 18+ MDNI 🍒Synopsis: after both you and Wooyoung’s hands meet to pick up the same drink, you soon realize this stranger is almost exactly like you in many ways. 🍒Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland my beta darling loves whom I owe the most to

You reached for a vanilla old fashioned at the bar but another veined hand closed over the glass as well. You furrowed your eyebrows in utter disbelief that someone would try to take the drink YOU clearly ordered. 

The other hand came from a man who blinked at you, clearly expecting you to remove your hand first. You smiled brightly instead. "I'm sorry, but this is mine. A vanilla old fashioned, they said."

The red haired man shook his head and pointed a finger to his pierced ear. His lips turned downwards to speak of how he didn't have a clue what you said. You waved your hand to your face to indicate he should smell the drink. The obviously-dyed redhead returned a look of being unimpressed.

"It's obviously not a regular old fashioned once you smell it, you idiot," You said under your breath.

The man raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Did you just call me an idiot?!"

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, so now you can hear me."

"No, but I sure can lip read," The red head shouted.

"Oh for god sake." You shoved your drunk to the man's nose and he inhaled deeply.

His mouth made a pretty pink 'o' immediately. "That's vanilla."

You smiled again but this time it's clearly mocking. "Okay, I'm taking my drink now."

The redhead wrapped a hand easily around your wrist with your drink and locked you in. He waved to the bartender and demanded a duplicate of your drink. Soon, the man is double fisting, his original order and his new one, and motioned with his head for you to follow.

Curious and without any other solid intentions, you followed him in his jean outfit through the dance floor. The crowd didn't exactly part for him, insomuch as he flowed around the crowd. That either came from a dance background or the fact that he just did this a lot.

"Come here often?" You can't help but wonder once he takes a seat at a table.

"Yeah but it's only because the dj plays exactly what I love to dance to," The man said, lifting a drink to his lips and looking off into the crowd casually.

You narrowed your eyes down at the man and he couldn't help but smile. "What?"

"That's exactly why I come here-- "

"--Good beats," He finished your sentence.

"That's weird," You said, suspicion coating your tongue.

“Hey, Wooyoung, we’re gonna head to another bar--”

The voice behind you cut off as the redhead in front of you, Wooyoung you assumed, shook his head at his friend, eyes wide but smiled sunnily back at you. “Don’t worry about him,” Wooyoung assured you. 

You lifted an eyebrow at him and moved to turn around but Wooyoung suddenly grabbed both your hands. “Only look at me,” He pleaded with a pout. 

You laughed a little. “Are you afraid I’m going to fall in love with your friend if I see him?”

Wooyoung motioned with his chin to his friend behind you and you presumed he left because the set in his shoulders became relaxed. “No,” he insisted.

You drank deeply of your sweet yet bitter drink and made a noise afterwards. “Well I would be, if I were you.”

Wooyoung cocked his head, “Why’s that?”

“It seems like, even though this is the first time I’m meeting you, we are quite alike,” You mentioned casually.

The admission only seemed to spurn Wooyoung on. He leaned full onto the table, elbows braced and his chin in his hands. “Then I suppose, since we’re so alike, you and I, you were thinking that after these drinks are done, that we’d fool around in a bathroom stall.”

You blinked several times, pretty sure you had NOT just heard what had come from Wooyoung’s mouth. Wooyoung laughed, loud and clear, cutting through the heavy bass of the club. “Not so much alike then.”

Finally, your mouth caught up with your brain. “I mean I’m not saying no but I can’t believe you just put it out there like that.”

Wooyoung shrugged with one shoulder, downing the regular Old Fashioned. He made a loud noise of satisfaction. “It was the truth.”

You laughed, making Wooyoung smile as well. “Thank you for being so truthful with me.” You saluted him with your drink and finished yours, following his pace. 

Wooyoung scooted closer to you, your thighs touching now. “Wanna share your vanilla concoction?”

You considered it. If you were about to potentially have public sex in a washroom, you’d need a bit of liquid courage to actually take the leap. You nodded resolutely and Wooyoung grinned. That grin seemed dangerous. You should have followed your gut. 

Wooyoung sipped the drink and then tilted his head, wet and pink lips moving towards yours. With your previous sip still burning down your esophagus, you tilted your head, receiving his soft lips, and the drink that spilled into your mouth. Where once was the shot of the cocktail, Wooyoung’s tongue was the chaser, bold and teasing. You shivered as his warm tongue played with yours and you eagerly sucked on it. 

When you two separated from the kiss, Wooyoung’s eyes were heavy-lidded. “That bathroom trip is starting to look even better.”

Lust was now burning a hole in your lower half right now, spurned on by the alcohol, certainly. You placed a hand high on Wooyoung’s pants. “If you keep kissing me like that, I’d say so.”

“Is it the kiss that excites you or the public sex?” Wooyoung wondered, eyes still lingering on your lips. His own were smeared with the tinted gloss you had applied earlier in the night.

“Both,” You replied easily.

Wooyoung laughed, “Oh, we are alike, you and I.”

It was easy to take Wooyoung’s hand and follow him into a bathroom stall. It was easy to push him up against the wall of said stall. You made sure to press the palm of your hand against his growing chubby. He whined at the attention and then slammed his lips down on yours. Wooyoung’s kisses tasted like vanilla and bourbon and you suddenly realized you were reaping the benefits of being similar to this stranger in the club. 

Suddenly, the tables were turned and Wooyoung pushed you up against the wall, leg pressed in between your own. His fingers crept up your jaw, holding you in place to kiss you even more. Wooyoung moaned, growing into laughter. "Fuck, I need you."

You smiled into the kiss and Wooyoung pulled away. "You need me?" You teased.

"It hurts," Wooyoung pouted.

"You don't hear women saying that," You laughed and Wooyoung joined in. 

Wooyoung dipped his head to place wet kisses along your collarbone. "Tell me where it hurts, pretty."

You rutted against his leg, Wooyoung flexing it just for you to do so. "My pussy is throbbing, Wooyoung, I need you."

"Fuuuuuuck," Wooyoung groaned, "That's hot."

"My pussy hurts so much, Wooyoung, please touch it," You whined.

Without further adieu, Wooyoung was pulling your dress down to reveal your breasts and you were pulling up your skirt to give him access to your dripping cunt. His lips encircled a nipple, rough tongue moving back and forth across the tip. His teeth applied slightly pressure and you shuddered at the teasing of the pleasure and pain. Wooyoung didn't even pause to dip two fingers into your wetness.

"Oh God," You said throatily. "Let me touch you."

You spit on the tip of Wooyoung’s cock when it was revealed and then you began to jerk him off in the stall as he teased your hole and smeared your wetness across your clit. The two of you were whimpering messes for each other, brains empty except for the pleasure that the two of you were giving each other. 

“Wait wait wait,” Wooyoung put his other hand over your wrist, jerking your hand off of him. “You’re gonna make me come before I get to fuck you.”

“But I want you to come on my hand so I can taste you!” You protested.

Wooyoung chuckled. “Same, damn, we really are similar.” He shook his hair out of his eyes to look directly at you. “Except if I come, there might not be a round two. Let me treat you first?”

You let out a shaky breath and say “Okay.”

Wooyoung gently bonked his head with yours. “Okay like ‘get it over with’ okay? Or okay, like ‘I can't manage any other words because you just stole them since you’re a thoughtful lover and I didn’t expect that in the club’ okay.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity. “The latter, Wooyoung. God, you’re ridiculous.”

Wooyoung’s smile hurts for some reason. It’s too bright for this dirty scenario and perhaps you feel your heart burst from it but you quickly shove that down, hard. Wooyoung went back to his messy kisses as he coaxed you to your first climax, which came real quick. He played with your clit like he’s been doing it for ages and you come with a drawn out cry into his eager lips. 

You’re too busy coming down from your high to prepare for anything but Wooyoung has it all covered. He sucked down on his fingers, cleaning your essense off of them before he’s got your underwear off and tucked into his pocket before you even realize your body was moving for him. He gently turned your around, helping you arrange yourself so that your arms brace for impact against the graffiti-ed wall. You hear a tearing noise behind you and belatedly realize that he’s putting on a condom for you. 

You whined, the sober part of your brain knowing he’s doing what’s right, but you want-- “No creampie?”

Wooyoung chuckled darkly behind you. “No creampie.”

He doesn’t let you wait long against the cold stall, his cock head is rubbing against your more-than-wet folds and even that stimulation has you whimpering. “Ready?” Wooyoung lifted your hair from the back of your neck and placed a wet kiss there too. 

You feel like you’ve barely recovered from your previous orgasm but all that’s on your mind is getting Wooyoung inside of you so you nod your head despite your forehead rubbing against the grimy wall. 

Wooyoung pushed into you patiently but now he’s the one whimpering. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls that only gets tighter after she’s come.”

“Wooyoung!” You chastise him but push back against him and because of that, Wooyoung finished filling you completely. His warm skin is against your ass now and you sigh in contentment.

Wooyoung rested his cheek against your shoulder blades, absent-mindedly kissing the glittered skin there before he began to move inside of you. His careful fingertips pressed into your hips to continue to bring your body flush with his and it only made your lower half throb even more. 

“Be good for me, pretty,” Wooyoung murmured into your shoulder blades.

It wasn’t long before he was setting a pretty quick pace that had your lust curling in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter as Wooyoung thrusted into you. The drag of his dick, the fact that he had figured out that spot inside of you after only a few thrusts, the whimpers and grunts behind you all aided to your pending orgasm. 

Your arms stopped being a barrier between your face and the stall wall a long time ago. Your cheek rubbed up against it as your hands moved over his on your hips. Only your nails digging into his fingers let Wooyoung know if he was going too hard or not hard enough. You didn’t have any room for words in your brain right now. 

Soon, Wooyoung became a bit brainless as well. His hands, intertwined with yours still, were on your breasts, randomly squeezing as he saw fit. Your body was almost fully pressed up against the wall now as Wooyoung humped you from behind, his hips pressed against your ass the only leverage now. 

“Oh fuck oh god, I’m gonna come, you’e gonna come right? You gotta! You’re so fucking tight around me right now, I swear every time I thrust into you now, you clench down on me in revenge. Pretty, we can come together right? You’re just like me, you’re ready to come and hard, right? Don’t bite your lip, I know you wanna, but just let out your noises for me, they’re so pretty, just like you tonight, mmmmmmmmm--”

Wooyoung choked on his own words and stilled inside of you just as your orgasm ripped through you like a punch to the gut. A grunt escaped you, your own breath caught as pleasure lit up all your nerves and had you slumping. Wooyoung wasn’t doing much better himself, a wordless groan coming from deep in his throat. His tongue swiped at the skin on your back as he tried to lick his lips multiple times. The both of you slid to the floor, your knees hitting the sticky surface, not giving a shit, however, you had just had arguably the best orgasm of the year.

Wooyoung was the first to find his voice, no surprise there. “Think I know why you were whining about a creampie now.”

“Fuck you,” You said weakly and he hummed in acknowledgement.

���Mmm, we did that already,” Wooyoung replied.

How either of you were going to find your feet and leave the bathroom stall was going to be a thing. Your brain already wondered if you’d have to endure an awkward avoidance of saying ‘see you later’ or if Wooyoung would keep your underwear but also give you his number. You didn’t know if it was love at first sight, or clicking with someone who was very similar to you was just doing it for you, but you knew after being fucked within one inch of your life, you definitely, most positively wanted to experience this again.

Dj got us fallin’ in love again by Usher pumped through the speakers and Wooyoung chuckled. It was beginning to be your favourite new noise.

The crew: @daesukiii @mingsolo @flurrys-creativity @hongcherry Taglist: @hijirikaww @starlitmark @stardragongalaxy @k-pop-ology

[broodwolf221]

dadwc prompts and info [updated 11/8/24]

general info:

no character death

pls specify prompt list ur using

ot3/poly prompts welcome

platonic or solo prompts also welcome\

although i will write things loosely inspired by davg with my rook, PLEASE do not send me any prompts that contain spoilers ❤️

au:

the dread scapegoat: in this au setup, dirthamen is the dread wolf, but solas takes on the mantle to protect him; he also carries much of the burden. but it is more about a rebellion brewing within the evanuris rather than one enacted from outside it

general prompts:

rare/unusual words (mine, but feel rb/use it yourself!)

sentences

micro story (please send the word/phrase)

medieval/fantasy sentences

deep conversations

people who aren't used to kindness

vague prompts: eerie edition

quote prompts:

as said by cassandra pentaghast

as said by dorian pavus

as said by solas

as said by merrill

fluff/romance/smut prompts:

fluff

50 types of kisses

sleeping

cuddles and snuggles

smutfic (please send word/phrase)

angst/whump prompts:

what are you hiding from me?

eerie loneliness

heavy content (mine, but feel free to rb/use it yourself!)

patching up wounds

other prompts:

oc codex

fantasy setting

characters:

ocs - nessa lavellan | velari lavellan | atros shiral | delwyn lavellan | dimitra | valyris lavellan | halcor brosca | feydis lavellan | liall talas | daw aldwir

dai - solas | varric | cassandra | sera | dorian | the iron bull | cole | leliana | morrigan | cullen | josephine | calpernia | flemythal | renn | valta | ameridan | talena | harding

da2 - anders(justice) | fenris | merrill

dao - leliana | morrigan

arlathan - mythal | andruil | ghilan'nain

relationships (ot3+ are welcome!):

solas x (daw | nessa | velari | atros | valyris | varric | cassandra | cullen | bull | dorian | morrigan | calpernia | mythal* | andruil* | ghilan'nain*)

anders x fenris

cassandra x (varric | sera | leliana | solas)

dorian x (feydis | bull | solas)

morrigan x (halcor | leliana | solas)

sera x (delwyn | dagna | cassandra)

cullen x (dimitra | solas | dorian)

ghilan'nain x (andruil* | solas*)

*messy/complicated ships, might end up in dead dove territory

major ocs:

nessa lavellan (f!rogue, solas)

velari lavellan (f!mage, solas)

atros shiral (m!rogue; city elf!inquisitor, solas)

delwyn lavellan (f!rogue, sera)

valyris lavellan (f!mage, solas)

liall talas (f!mage, dalish, warden, no romance)

feydis lavellan (m!mage, dorian)

dimitra (non-inky, f!mage(/templar), cullen)

halcor brosca (m!rogue, morrigan then nate)

daw aldwir (info)

quick oc info:

nessa - soft, stubborn af, has a daughter with solas, peaceful family life, insomuch as it can be

velari - complicated, guilt-ridden, kinky, power couple

atros - so complicated, loads of trauma, volatile, passionate about justice, on solas' side no matter what

delwyn - young, silly, grows a lot, balanced, ends up becoming a very good leader, all in for sera

valyris - older, reserved, contemplative, quick judgements but willing to reassess, non-magic healer (healer has the bloodiest hands), leads from a distance bc she's scared of caring

liall - body horror warden who's into it, macabre and morbid, curiosity as a character flaw

feydis - steady, passionate, righteous fury but very, very deep inside him, quick, dry wit

dimitra - self-sufficient, guarded, expected to become a templar but magic manifested, ended up in the circle, so many confrontations with her assumptions that she couldn't possibly count them all

halcor - rough around the edges, a bit ends justify the means, good at heart but doesn't lose sleep over bad choices, matter of fact, heart eyes about magic

MINOR DAVG SPOILERS:

daw - a veil jumper, daw has a complex history with the dread wolf - not a personal history, but a spiritual one. after being recruited by varric, they are desperate to stop solas, whatever the cost... but over time, they begin to understand him and realize that they want to save him

[guileheroine]

Omg struggling! Got character counted in the comments so I’ll paste here:

Wow this was beyond - thank you so much for the thoughtful and thorough response! I am absolutely signing up for your lecture series lol. All of this helps calcify some vague thoughts I’ve had as a reader but never put into practice as a writer so thank you for laying out a framework about what/why you tackle the stories that you do. I do feel like I’m missing out on the majority of fun from not resonating with so much of what people seem to be excited about(!) but this really helps separate the reader/writer insomuch as writing AUs with the level of thoughtfulness you describe here is an excellent way of engaging with the characters and the themes of a work as a critical challenge. Laying out the different aspects of Korra’s character that you built your stories around is a lightbulb moment for me because it obviously comes through in your stories but seeing it spelled out in this way gives me so much inspiration on how to frame a story and where to push and pull, while still staying true to the values, themes, and abilities of the characters. AUs sit in that really interesting space for me between source-extension and examination and OC fiction and it’s a delicate balance to try and hit that sweet spot in a satisfying way. I think where you excel is not only just technical writing proficiency but creating an AU story that feels like it has something to actually say about the source material in an emotionally resonant way! Honestly thank you so much for taking the time for this I have a lot more thoughts to process but I’m really excited to have this to refer to! <3

i'm really happy you found it helpful, your ask definitely helped me consider my own approach more consciously too! and thank you again ;_; humbled bc when i'm actually writing it's truly 85% vibes

btw you hit the nail on the head with your description of AUs here, i think the tension/negotiation inherent in translation of any kind is also why i can't let them go as a concept even though 99% of what i see is whatever (i've been doing actual translation lately and it's incredibly hard but also one of the crunchiest things you can ask your brain to do??) one thing i actually do wish is that we saw more setting-based AUs rather than the uber specific 1:1 tropes/templates, whether in fic or art, bc again they let the characters lead (e.g. when i see 'star wars AU' i'd much rather it be an interpretation of what the character would be like in star wars land rather than, say, korra in the costume (literal or narratively) of rey. that could not be less interesting to me but yeah soo much of technically excellent fanwork is like this!) i wish characters weren't treated indiscriminately as vessels for [insert any scenario] but that's almost getting into a broader point about fanon in general and i def acknowledge my personal bar for what's OOC is quite easy to clear

so yeah fully empathise on feeling like you're missing out on the fun because of stuff not resonating with you. and i'd love to hear any more thoughts you might have once you're done processing lol <3

[thelioncourts]

Do you have capri fic recs for us? :)

this is so late in being answered but, at the time, i hadn’t read a lot of new fic when this was asked. i feel like i have now though so! be prepared!!

Awakening in Arles by toewsyourheart

Damen and Laurent meet. Six years later, they meet again.

Rating: Mature; Word Count: 5953; Warning(s): None

Notes: Canon-Divergent

Keep Your Demons on a Leash by rainydayrambling

Laurent was in a rare mood, insomuch as it could be called a mood at all. He wanted to claw himself out of his skin, tear every scrap of fabric away from him, free himself from the confines of physical reality. Whatever mood that was, this was where he had found himself. Pinned beneath Damen on the bed in his chambers -- a familiar place to be -- still dressed in his shirt and pants, though his jacket had been left somewhere on the other side of the room.

###

Or: Laurent is Big Horny, and he really just wants a solid dicking down. But Damen, being Damen, takes the opportunity to draw things out as long as humanly possible -- and Laurent is very annoyed by this. In a sexy way.

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 6784; Warning(s): None

Notes: UM. so good, so Laurent and Damen. Capri-Canon-Verse.

A ghostly touch by anonymous

When Laurent moves into the cheap apartment that he has rented, he finds that wishes come true in the apartment or something else is living there with him. If he has never been able to speak his desires aloud, then it is good that someone can read his mind and fulfill the desires he never knew he had.

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 16181; Warning(s): Referenced Regent grossness, mildly dubious consent

Notes: ghost!Damen, mystery, ghost sex, even in ghost form damen is a service top, 10/10.

a diadem, cantarella, and a chestnut filly by slutzilla 

a collection of events surrounding the wedding and birthday of auguste, son of aleron, king of vere.

Rating: Mature; Word Count: 27514; Warning(s): Very much Regent grossness

Notes: so i read this just last night and i was screaming (into my pillow). the scenes with the regent are pretty explicit, or, at least, they’re more than just a *fade to black*. that being said, damen and laurent’s first interaction as adults is everything. want to read again.

When the sun is on again by pulsivere

"I think," Damianos said softly, "that you have not been treated the way you deserve."

For the first time in his life, Laurent did not know what to say back.

Rating: Mature; Word Count: 43539 (for now!); Warning(s): PTSD, violence

Notes: i don’t normally rec WIPs but this one is just too wonderful not to. i’ve been following it since ch 1 and i am utterly intrigued. there’s a lot of political stuff going on here, like the books, only it’s a universe in which auguste lives (barely, but not because of damen) and laurent, young, is desperate to keep auguste alive and that means honing in on his analytical nature, adopting a cold-tone of indifference, and hoping people underestimate him, much like in canon. please give it a shot, it’s so good.

greek & godly by sweetricebuns

Though he'd never admit it, Laurent absolutely loves post-gym Damen.

(Damen is attractive. Very attractive. Laurent deals.)

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 2631; Warning(s): None

Notes: the AN is literally just like ‘sweaty damen deserves a blowjob’ and they are correct!! it’s a good body worship fic, let me tell you. and damen deserves worshiped. 

The Time of the Living by Creberrime

Damen realized Arles would likely awaken some things in him. His mind barely drifted to that place anymore but he just knew those thoughts were still locked somewhere within himself.

He knew.

Damen visits Arles for the first time as a King and faces his own return to some unfriendly landscapes.

Rating: Mature; Word Count: 5768; Warning(s): PTSD

Notes: love exploring damen’s first return to arles. him leaving at the end of capri and thinking about how he’d never have to see this place again was so much; he knew he was returning to akielos or dying. he never thought he’d marry the prince of vere and joint-rule the kingdom. and with all that happened there, it’s a lot. it’s like how i also want to explore damen post-KR and in his father’s chambers and visiting his own chambers after his capture there and --

Just to Sit Outside Your Door by rainydayrambling

Damen is the leader of Akielos, a vigilante group set on bringing down mega-corporations that abuse the people of the city of Delpha. Laurent is the heir to DeVere Corp., one such corporation. When a personal assistant position is listed for Laurent, Akielos steps in to make sure Damen gets the job. But being Laurent's live-in assistant presents challenges Damen never anticipated, and through a series of shared stories, secret missions, and midnight plotting sessions, his feelings for the acerbic heir quickly begin to change.

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 57706; Warning(s): Implied/Reference Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape, Violence

Notes: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! love it when these long fics just pop up and ruin your life in the best kind of way for at least a week. 10/10. damen is so bad at pretending to be anything but a leader. 

give a little (get a lot) by liesmyth

“Are you going to apologise?”

Laurent jutted his chin out. “I will,” he said. “If you make me.”

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 3934; Warning(s): little bit of BDSM

Notes: canon-verse, good fucking sex. what more do we need?

we kiss and then by anonymous

“You must enjoy this immensely,” Laurent said, tone breathless but sharp as though to make up for momentary weakness. “Having me all to yourself, sightless and bound for your pleasure, it must be the only way you can get off—”

“Quiet,” Damen said, and Laurent’s throat clicked when he swallowed.

Damen makes a pretty good match for Laurent.

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 3626; Warning(s): Implied/Reference Child Abuse

Notes: modern au. some good good smut. like. good good. best scene is in ch 2. damen makes laurent talk and it’s like taking laurent’s greatest weapon and using it against him.

got no soul to sell by onekingdomonce 

A favorite? Ancel didn’t know. Damianos was said to have healthy appetites and a wandering eye, not limiting himself with the lovers he took. Laurent, ever the optimist, saw this as a positive. The lack thereof wasn’t an obstacle; it was a position to be filled.

Or: Laurent sends himself as a slave to Akielos.

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 9084; Warning(s): Dub-Con, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Open Ending

Notes: who isn’t a slut for these AUs? it’s depressing and hot and so Much(TM). if the roles really had been switched like this, i don’t think either of them would have came out alive. so good. 

Different by parttimehuman

When Laurent tells Damen to fuck him, Damen says no.

There's a fear inside Laurent that needs to be defeated first, slowly, with countless kisses and worshipping touches, with all the love Damen has to give.

The next time Laurent asks, he will pose the question differently, and Damen won't say no...

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 17037; Warning(s): None

Notes: idk what to say. it’s incredibly good. like, it’s a character study done via smut. 

fell in love with a war by uptillthree

His chest is still heaving, rising and falling as though he’s finished a footrace. The garden and the pet ring he’d weathered stoically, because both had looked so different in decor and atmosphere compared to the first time he’d been here, a court remade. He’d been given a throne instead of the floor at Laurent’s feet. Laurent had tucked a white flower behind his ear, playful and careless of propriety.

The whipping post had been the same.

Damen returns to Arles.

Rating: Teen; Word Count: 1160; Warning(s): PTSD

Notes: another ‘damen returning to arles.’ with damen’s lack of introspectiveness, i think he wouldn’t assume arles would have an impact on him upon return, not until he got there. 

[thatlastdanceofchances]

10 for the Torchwood asks? 😺

10. Favourite ship outside the main three (not jack/ianto, tosh/owen, or gwen/rhys)?

I'm not sure it counts as not being a main ship as it’s canon but Jack Harkness/John Hart.

I think it's a very interesting dynamic because of how Jack has changed so much since they were together but John hasn't. This makes their interactions fascinating, especially how John does (or doesn't) process that.

Though I guess I'm not really shipping it insomuch as I love exploring how the relationship is not there anymore.

So for something I really ship? You know what? In the Beth survives AU that I mentioned in this post? Beth/Tosh would be great! :-D

Thanks for the ask!

[ajoblotofjunk]

I have SO MANY fics on my ‘To Recommend’ list, including a bunch I recommended back on my DW months ago when I started reading, so I’m going to try to definitely get out a list once a week for Spotlight Saturdays. I figure given the quarantine for the next however many weeks people will be looking for things to read. In the interest of consolidation, I’m going to start with my DW recs first. I posted these last year when I was still fresh to reading J/B fic so there are some very familiar titles in this and the next list, but no reason to leave them off just because they’ve been rec’d before. I tagged on tumblr the people I knew, but some folks don’t have the same tumblr and AO3 names (*cough*) so I missed a bunch if they are here.

Open by ssstrychnine This is one of the earliest fics I read when fannishness hit me. It's set post-8x03 (before 8x04 had aired) and it's warm and sweet and hot in turns. Brienne shaves Jaime, exposing both of them.

Untitled tumblr ficlet by @qqueenofhades​ This one is post-8x04 and focuses entirely on the weeks they spent together without directly referencing anything else. A happy, sweet, short dream of a story.

What is love but a chemical reaction that causes insanity by starforged Post-804 fic that I felt was a great take on both Jaime & Brienne and Jaime & Cersei's relationship without shortchanging anyone. Angsty.

Count on me by BrightDream This is post-8x04 and has Brienne discovering she's pregnant and Pod stepping up and being a wonderful friend. Sweet and a little sad and - if you don't consider what happens in the canon - hopeful. Heh.

Heart's Desire by Miss_M This one is book canon, set post-A Dance with Dragons. It's a first time fic and is deftly done. Jaime is such an asshole but you remember 'ah yes, I love this particular asshole' in it and Brienne is sweet-hearted and tender and deserving of all good things.

41 Nights and A Day by rhye This is the first of a series. I've only read the first two so far but they’re both good. This first one goes day-by-day through their time in Winterfell together (as per 8x04) and it made me so, so happy to read even though you know how it will end because it's canon-compliant with that episode. It veers off from there and in the second fic Brienne is pregnant (so many of us were convinced she would be pregnant on the show! Because otherwise WHAT WAS THE POINT, but. WELL. WHAT FOOLS WE WERE.)  Where was I? Right she's pregnant and she goes after Jaime and I enjoy how quietly optimistic the second fic is under the dark surface (looks like others follow suit) because I want them to be happy.

Promising Light by Dollsome ( @dollsome-does-tumblr​) This was the first post-8x05 fic I read and it does not ignore the fact that Jaime went back to Cersei but it makes it all okay. Jaime wakes up alive and Brienne is there. It does a lot in a short space and the last few lines break me in the best way.

Fever by Lady_in_Red ( @ladyinredfics​) THE RODEO AU, Y'ALL. THE RODEO AU. This fic permanently changed my relationship with Jaime/Brienne as a fannish interest for me. I have never really read AUs ever in any fandom. I'm not usually interested in the characters outside of their canonical space and honestly on the whole I don't read a TON of fic, even for my fannish OTPs. But J/B is entirely different. Is it because they're different in the two sources we have and so I'm already primed for it? Who knows. But this was a great way to jump into the AU pool for me. This is a modern-setting AU and the author CLEARLY has all the knowledge about rodeos and I learned so much while also getting a wonderful love story that was true to the characters. (Side note: this fic is the reason HFoG exists at all, I suspect; it showed me what was possible and was kind of my goalpost for when I was considering mine.)

One of the Few Things by anniebibananie (alindy) I LOVE THIS STORY SO MUCH. I've read this SEVERAL times and I squeal like a child every time at the text messages. This is a modern AU where Sansa and Jaime work at a bar together, become friends-in-pining, and then get everything they ever wanted. The Sansa/Jon, Jaime/Brienne relationships are both delightful and I don't really even ship Sansa/Jon. This fic is PURE JOY. HIGH RECOMMEND.

Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken ( @chickren​ ) What to even say about the swimmer & quarterback AU? I'm not sure there are words enough to encompass my feelings for this fic. It's just...I mean...the Harrenhal scene ALONE. I just wanted to live in this world forever. This is a really interesting Jaime; it's still very true to his character but there are some things about him that feel unexpected although I do like them, too. Swimming star Brienne is a hero worth rooting for, as always. This is set with them in college, but the college part of this only matters insomuch as the sports matter. I'm not doing this story justice with this rec; I just really strongly recommend you go read it.(At this point I’m sure everyone has, but JUST IN CASE.)

two halves of a soul by angel_deux You know what else I definitely absolutely never EVER read? High school AUs. Also works in progress. You know what this was when I started reading it?

Yeah. A modern, high school, soulmark AU that was still being finished. This fic snagged all the people I shared it with at entirely different points but ALL OF US are goners for this story and I don't know that any of us can explain why. Everyone is just so....them? But young? But not so young? There's hoodies and puppy Jaime and Brienne thinking 'someday I will be loved' (MY HEART, MY HEART) and it ends beautifully.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Marichat May Greek AU

For @marichatmay

It’s just one story based on one of the prompts, but I hope it counts.

Once upon a time, there was a lonely boy.

He was the son of a nobleman. The scion of a wealthy and powerful family. His hair was bright as the rays of the sun and his eyes as green as the fields of the land his family managed. He was the pride of his father. The icon of the kingdom to which he belonged. Beloved and adored by the people who knew of him. He was the very symbol of life and all the joys it had to offer.

And yet he was not happy.

His name was Adrien, though it felt more like a weight than a name to him. Throughout the years, since his very birth he remained trapped and constrained under his father’s hand. Ever under watch and never truly with company. Made to smile and perform like a pet rather than a person. There were brief moments of respite among friendlier faces, but they were few and far between—taken away so quickly that it made his heart ache all the more.

He hated it.

It was only in the dead of night when the household was completely silent that he would look out the window to the world outside and admit these feelings he tried to ignore.

He hated it.

He hated them.

He hated his life.

He hated it all.

Many nights passed as this, lonely and embittered. But his days remained the same as he continued to smile and act to the whims of those around him. Days passed. Weeks passed. And the longer things continued, the more he feared he may go mad.

Until finally, one night on a new moon, a god appeared before him. One as ancient as the old world and longer lived than the stars.

“I’ve been around long before you were born.” The being told him. “Before your species were even a thought in Creation’s mind. And I will continue to be long after you and your world are little more than dust.”

The boy was confused and only slightly wary.

“Why come to me then? If I am but a mere moment in your eternity?” He asked.

It stared at him, eyes gleaming more brightly than any flame.

“All beings need time to rest. From humans to animals to plants to the Earth itself. Even ones as old as I.” Its tail twitched restlessly and its claws bit into the wood of the floor. “But my duty is never-ending and my burden is great. For as long as it exists, I must ensure it is fulfilled.”

Even gods longed for freedom, it seemed. The boy felt sympathy for this being.

“I come to you with an offer.” It told him, presenting him with a Ring. “This Ring bears my sigil. If you accept my deal, I will take you from this place. For as long as you wear it, you will have my power and my kingdom at your command. I only ask that you maintain the balance in my stead until I return.”

“I will be free?” The boy asked, hopefully.

“Only insomuch as any person can be. For even a king is bound by duty and rules for the betterment of his people.”

“But if it will let me make decisions for myself and allow me to escape this place, it is more than I now have.” The boy decided. “What must I do?”

“Take my Ring.” It commanded. “Bear my role. And in exchange, my power and title are yours to do with as you will for as long as the agreement lasts.”

The boy hesitated. If he agreed, he would leave his home. His life. Everything he had known. This may be freedom from his current life, but it carried a burden all its own. Could he accept that?

Yes.

He took the Ring, and in an instant, its power filled him and changed his very form.

His robes were replaced with armor as black as night. His hair became as gold. His eyes as glittering emeralds. And his face remained hidden behind a mask of obsidian.

He became the new Lord of Destruction and Death.

The next morning, the boy’s room was opened by his servants to wake him, only to discover he was not there. The room and grounds were searched, but there was no sign of him. The door had been locked. The windows barred. And no sign of outside entry.

The only indicator of his fate was the scratches and ash on the floor, as well as the smell of sulfur.

[fallinnflower]

evening by evening

ren x reader (demon!au, angst, fluff)

a/n: as described by one of my friends, this is a slice of life but with a demon! don’t really know how that works but i wrote it i guess. anyways stream “bet bet”~

“Since I didn’t mean to summon you, doesn’t that mean you can go?” You ask, arms folded over your chest as you stare at the demon now sprawled comfortably over your couch. “I mean, I’m not about to strike a deal with you, so shouldn’t you leave?”

The demon lifts his gaze to yours lazily; he smirks, just slightly, tilting his head to one side as he regards you with his inhuman eyes. You suppress a shiver under his gaze, narrowing your eyes.

“I could leave,” he simpers, eyes heavy-lidded. “If you ask nicely.” You blink once, but continue holding his gaze.

“Okay,” you reply, “Can you please leave my house? I need to go to bed.” The demon’s jaw drops, and you’re shocked by how quickly his cool countenance falls away into what you can only describe as pure melodrama.

“What?” You ask, slightly alarmed, and he leans up off the couch.

“You weren’t actually supposed to ask me to leave!” He cries, “I was just getting comfortable!” His expression seems to be one of genuine horror that you would even do such a thing, and you furrow your eyebrows, feeling far too tired for this.

“What, do they not have couches in Hell?” The demon pouts at you. It’s unsettling insomuch as that it’s actually kind of endearing on him.

“It’s Hell, what do you think?” You hold his gaze for a moment, and he folds his own arms across his chest as he huffs and leans back against your couch cushions. You glance at the clock above his head and sigh — it’s way too late for this shit. You run a hand though your hair and shrug.

“One night,” you say. “You can stay on my couch for one night. But you’re leaving tomorrow.” His expression brightens, and he shoots up out of his seat, extending his hand to you.

“Deal!” He chirps, and you stare quizzically at his hand for a moment before shaking it.

The demon’s eyes suddenly flash gold, and you feel a burning sensation in your palm, pulling away with a hiss. You look from your palm to the demon, who’s grinning smugly at you.

“Congratulations,” he says. “You just made a deal with the devil.��

The next day, you drag yourself out to the kitchen and find the demon lounging on your couch with a bowl of cereal, watching tv.

“Is this mark gonna go away anytime soon?” You ask, holding up your palm to show him the strange, somewhat shimmering circle right in the center. The demon doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“Nah, it’ll be there ‘til I settle the score.”

“I thought the deal was that you could sleep on my couch for a night?” You ask, turning your coffeemaker on. Now the demon turns his gaze to you.

“Yeah, I meant to ask— where am I sleeping tonight?” You open your cupboard and realize with a huff that the demon is using your favorite mug for his own coffee.

“I don’t know,” you snap. “Maybe your bed in Hell?”

“No can do,” he chirps, happily munching down on your cereal. You wonder if demons have money, or if you’re just going to have to foot the bill for this unexpected guest. “I can’t go back there till I’ve settled my debt with you.”

“So, what, I have to make a wish or something?” You ask, and now when he turns his gaze to you he looks almost frighteningly serious.

“Not quite,” he replies, and although this voice is nonchalant his eyes somehow look even less human in the morning light filtering through your curtains — almost kaleidoscopic.

“It’s a blood debt.” You nearly drop your mug and your own bowl of cereal when he says this.

“A blood debt? For sleeping on my couch?” You hiss, and he shrugs.

“I don’t make the rules.” You set your bowl and mug down on the table and immediately rest your head in your hands. The beginnings of a headache have started to manifest in your temples, and you’re really about done with this whole day and it’s not even 9am. Thank God it’s your day off.

“Okay,” you say, mostly to yourself, lifting your head up. “Okay. If you’re staying here, we need to set some ground rules.” The demon sits up, intrigued by this.

“First off, do you have a name?” He looks confused at first, but his expression quickly shifts to one of amusement.

“Some call me Ren—”

“Fine. Ren.” He pouts at having been interrupted, and you take a sip of your coffee. “The couch is a futon. It’s yours now. Try not to overdo it on the TV, we live on a budget in this apartment. Don’t fuck up any of the appliances or the walls or else I’ll never get my security deposit back. Also, if you’re going to eat all my food, I expect compensation.”

The demon, Ren, blinks at you, and then lets out a laugh you can only describe as cute.

“What,” you snap, mouth full of cereal, and Ren meets your glare with an unaffected smile.

“You have a demon in your house and you’re worried about the most mundane things,” he says, shaking his head.

“Well, it’s not like anyone would believe me if I told them you were here,” you say, pointing at him with your spoon. “They’d just think you were some friend of mine with weird eyes.” He has the audacity to look offended, raising a hand to his face.

“I happen to think they look nice, thank you.”

“They make you stand out. Invest in some contacts if you’re gonna be staying with me.” You get up from your seat to go wash your bowl, then give him a pointed look.

“Also, if you eat something, you clean up after yourself. I’m not your mother or your maid. Got it?” Ren sighs and waves a hand.

“Yeah, sure, got it.”

“Don’t give me that tone,” you say, and he turns his kaleidoscope gaze on you. It’s somehow less unnerving than it was before, but maybe it’s just because you’re irritated. “I’m being gracious enough to give you a place to stay, all I ask is that you follow my rules. So, am I clear?” Ren blinks at you once before sighing and letting out a somewhat sarcastic,

“Yes ma’am.” You count it as a victory and move into the kitchen, half-heartedly listening to the discontented grumblings of the demon in your living room. When he comes home with groceries and contacts two days later, you don’t ask how he managed to afford it. You’re pretty sure you don’t want to know.

You wake up with a feeling you can only describe as dread forming in the pit of your stomach. You roll over, reaching for your phone to check the time, only to find the other side of your bed completely empty. Feeling that same sense of dread wash over you again, you sit up, only to find yourself less startled and more irritated by what you find.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice coming out rough and, honestly, gross. Ren shrugs, chewing on something that you can’t quite make out in the dark, your phone in his hands. The light from it illuminates his face strangely, casting severe shadows and making his eyes look silver.

“Twitter.” You rake your hands through your hair, already thoroughly done.

“On my account?” You ask, finally. Ren shoots you a look out of the corner of his eye.

“No. I made a side account for myself,” he replies, lifting his chin haughtily. “I have better things to do than watch clips of k-pop idols on variety shows.” Before you can manage a retort, he looks back at you for slightly longer this time, and you raise an eyebrow. He lets out a little hmph, which might be a laugh, before turning his attention back to your phone.

“Your hair looks terrible.” The sound you let out as you flop back onto your bed seems to startle him, at least, and you think he deserves it after his comment.

“What time is it?”

“Three,” Ren replies. “Witching hour. Me time.” You scoff.

“You’re not a witch, and you’re spending your time on Twitter.” You can just see enough of Ren’s face from the angle you’re at to notice the annoyed crumple of his brow before he turns to you.

“You’re mean,” he whines. “Why aren’t you scared of me? I’m a demon!” A little laugh escapes you as you curl yourself back into your blankets.

“Don’t ignore me!”

You fall back to sleep anyways.

Sundays are your lazy days. You let yourself sleep in, then you throw some stuff in the laundry and just relax until it’s done. This Sunday, despite having a new demon roommate, you opt for your same routine — you refuse to let this new pain in your ass ruin everything.

That is, you were going to relax, until you walked into your bathroom and found your normally white sink covered in a mess of hot pink.

“Ren!” You yell, whirling around in the doorway and stalking down the hall. Ren is sitting, unbothered, at your dining room table, his hair concealed in a shower cap. He takes a sip of his coffee before turning his bored gaze to you, but you can see a spark behind his eyes as they shift from blue to red. You feel your nails biting into your palms.

“What did you do to my bathroom,” you manage to ask through gritted teeth, and Ren blinks at you.

“I dyed my hair.”

“You made a mess!” You snap, running a hand through your hair. “This is supposed to be my day off— wait, no, it is my day off.” You fix him with a glare.

“You are going to clean my bathroom, or so help me God—” Ren visibly shrinks, frowning, at the use of the Lord’s name, and you point in the direction of your bathroom.

“Now,” you say. Ren sighs, sinking lower in your chair,

“Can’t it just wait till my hair is—”

“Now, Ren.” The demon huffs and gets up from his seat, letting the chair legs scrape against your floor. You respond in kind, lifting your chin and entering your kitchen to make some coffee for yourself.

Secretly, as you hear him grumbling and rustling around in your bathroom, you imagine his dye job coming out patchy, and smile behind the rim of your mug.

Your body jerks awake at the sensation of falling, and you can’t help the gasp that leaves you as you open your eyes. Your dream… you don’t remember it now, but as you begin to calm yourself down you notice there are tears on your cheeks. You can’t place exactly why you feel as anxious as you do, your mind reeling to try and come up with the answer.

Your breathing just won’t even out, though. You feel horrible and you don’t know why you just can’t seem to stop crying.

Ren suddenly appears in your room.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound worried before. In the darkness, all you can see is his eyes, glowing the way a cat’s might and causing you to cry all over again. The demon at the foot of your bed halts in his steps as he notices you recoiling away from them, and you want to apologize but you can’t find the words. There’s a frown etched deep into all of Ren’s features, and it doesn’t suit him, but you can’t make it go away.

Ren furrows his brows and suddenly he’s at your bedside, his hand resting on your forehead as you continue to cry. His eyes glow gold as he looks down at you.

“Get some rest,” he whispers, and as he passes his hand over your eyes, you fall into the most restful sleep of your life.

Come morning, you remember nothing.

It’s been a week. Long, torturous, and definitely enough to make you stop by the convenience store on your way home for some cheap alcohol to soothe your soul. You thank God that you have this Saturday off, even if it meant working hellish swapped shifts, because it means you really and truly have a weekend again.

And that means you can drink as much as you want to tonight, sleep in tomorrow, and binge watch Netflix if that’s what you want to do.

But the one thing you forget to account for, yet again? The demon leaving dents in the cushions of your couch when you get home, playing games on your old phone you had reactivated for him. He lifts his head as you open the door and toe off your shoes, an ironically devilish grin splitting across his face,

“Y/N—”

“No,” you say, firmly, not even looking at him. “Tonight is a self-care night,” you announce, producing the cheap bottles of rosé you had purchased and setting them on the counter. You hear Ren scoff as you dig around in your cabinets for glasses, settling on a mug because you’re so tired.

“You know, most people don’t consider getting drunk self-care.” You turn to him with a scathing glare.

“Do you want some or not?”

Your resident demon, as expected, smiles and shrugs and holds out a hand. He raises a brow when you pass him the mug, and you sigh as you shove his legs aside to settle onto the couch.

“If you want a wine glass, you can get it yourself.” Again, as expected, Ren shrugs at the thought and takes a sip of the wine, lips curling into a grin. After managing to dig the remote out from under a couch cushion, where you’re almost certain Ren had intentionally hidden it, you start scrolling aimlessly through Netflix. Somewhere in your feed you stumble upon some American horror movie one of your friends has said they liked, and while you aren’t normally a fan of the genre you don’t feel your interest piqued by anything else on your lists — so you press play.

And it’s no more than ten minutes until Ren is huffing in annoyance,

“That’s not how demons look. I’m not ugly.” His commentary doesn’t stop there, however; he criticizes their depictions of exorcisms, and demonic summoning and possessions, and eventually you pause the movie out of pure annoyance, unable to pay attention to the subtitles well enough to know what’s going on when he’s just babbling.

“Alright, Ren, either shut up or go somewhere else.” The demon blinks at you, and for a moment you think you see a bit of hurt in his expression, but he mutters something under his breath as he raises his mug to his lips, nodding for you to press play. A part of you feels smug, but another part of you feels bad for snapping at him; in reality, you know he has nowhere to go, he doesn’t even have a room in your apartment! Just because you’ve had a shitty week and he’s a little annoying doesn’t mean you want him to look like a kicked puppy, even if it’s just for a second. You bite your lip as you settle into your cushion more, then lift half of your blanket and offer it to Ren as a truce. It makes you feel marginally better when the pink-haired demon accepts, keeping his commentary to a minimum for the rest of the film.

At some point in the night, after one bottle has been finished and you’re starting to dissolve into giggles, you notice that Ren seems to have gotten closer to you — or maybe it’s the other way around, but you’re both leaning fully against one another as you watch some corny film, Ren laughing every time you do.

If he weren’t a demon, it might be kind of endearing, but you’re not intoxicated enough to forget that. At least, not yet. It doesn’t stop you from playing with his hair when the movie stops being interesting, however.

But by the time the second bottle is half-finished (mostly by you), you’re barely able to keep your eyes open as Ren drags you to go brush your teeth. He (with surprising ease) supports your weight as you sway in front of the sink, and you giggle out something about him acting like your boyfriend with toothpaste foam falling from your lips, but don’t bother to look at his reaction. But you mean it, deep down; when Ren isn’t annoying the shit out of you he’s basically your type — and even when he is annoying you he’s your type, but you’d deny that to the ends of the earth.

You don’t remember much after that, but the reality of the situation is that Ren lies in bed with you and watches stupid YouTube videos with you until you fall asleep, letting you play with his hair even though you’re turning it into a complete mess. Even with the videos, you can’t seem to shut up, and it’s surprising how unbothered Ren seems.

At some point in the night, before you fall asleep, you start poking at his cheeks and booping his nose, laughing when he swats your hand away. You press your hand against his to compare the size, and you’re not as fazed as you thought you’d be when he slots his fingers between yours. When your gazes meet, his expression is more soft than you’ve ever seen it, even with the harsh glow of your laptop playing along his face, his eyes shifting like clouds. He licks his lips, as though he’s about to say something—

You dissolve into laughter again, letting your clasped hands fall between you on the sheets and scooting closer to nuzzle your face in his shoulder.

“I’m tired,” you whine, and Ren chuckles. You think you vaguely feel his hand on your hair. “Goodnight, Ren.”

You can feel yourself falling asleep, your eyelids becoming heavier with each breath, and yet somewhere in your mind you still hear his voice.

“It’s Minki,” he whispers, sounding oddly choked up. “My name is Minki.”

And with that, you succumb to darkness. You wake up in the morning with a pounding head, spread starfish on your bed, unable to remember anything but the last stupid movie you had watched.

You roll over and go back to sleep, and the demon you hadn’t noticed in the corner of your room frowns to himself and slips out the door.

Your date had gone surprisingly well, you muse, leaning into Jinyoung on the sidewalk as he escorts you home. You had a somewhat nice bottle of champagne from your birthday in the fridge you had been saving for something, and you figure you might just use it as an excuse to get your crush from Literature into your apartment for a bit. A secretive smile plays at your lips as you both near your building, and you link your arm in his. Jinyoung was every part the gentleman you’d hoped he’d be, and now your only concern was whether Ren had actually tidied up before leaving the apartment like you’d asked him to.

Jinyoung hovers behind you as you unlock your door, both of you chuckling at a joke he’d told. One of his hands rests on your hip, and you turn around to grin at him before opening the door,

“I have some champagne in the apartment, if you’d like to come in for a glass?” Jinyoung smiles, his dark eyes glittering and the hand on your hip briefly squeezing.

“I’d love to.” You giggle, feeling your cheeks burning with blush.

You open the door only to be greeted by a large, snarling black (or maybe brown? It seemed to be glowing red beneath its fur) dog. Its ears are pressed flat back, its sharp teeth bared as its whole body trembles; its yellowy eyes look almost through you, focused directly on Jinyoung.

You turn to reassure him, already feeling an icy dread pooling in your stomach as his hand falls away from your hip.

“I, uh—” he chokes on his words, gaze not leaving the dog’s. “I don’t think your dog likes me.”

“It’s not—”

“Maybe I should go,” he says, taking one step back and then another, shooting you the least convincing smile you’ve ever seen.

“See you in class, Y/N.”

He’s gone down the stairwell before you can protest, and when you turn around again Ren is suddenly leaning against the wall near the kitchen, head tilted with a strange look in his eyes despite the grin playing at his lips.

“So that’s the infamous Jinyoung?” He tuts, shaking his head. “You can do much better. He couldn’t even handle Dolly.” At the name, the dog suddenly settles, sitting down and turning its head to face Ren. With its large tail wagging and black tongue lolling out of its mouth, it almost looks like a normal dog.

You know better. You slam the door shut, your whole body feeling taut like strings about to snap. Ren’s gaze is challenging, but his posture is relaxed; it makes you even angrier, somehow.

“You summoned a hellhound in my apartment?” You hiss, and Ren shrugs.

“Don’t give me that!” You snap. “You— I ask for one thing, one evening since you’ve made my life a living hell for the past six months—” You feel your body shaking the longer you go on, your vision blurring. You swallow the burning lump in your throat, but it doesn’t help.

“Why can’t you just pay your debt and leave me alone?” You ask, your voice hoarser than you expected it to be, falling unexpectedly heavy in the silence. Ren’s gaze doesn’t falter as he closes the distance between the two of you. You cover your face with your hands, not wanting to see him, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball and sleep through a whole winter.

“I can’t do that,” he replies.

Ren’s hand is cold when it brushes along the side of your face; when both his hands envelope your own and force you to look at him. You feel the tears burning hot behind your eyes, but you meet his anyways.

“Why not?” He looks almost bashful, maybe even a little guilty as he formulates his reply, still holding your hands.

“My name,” he whispers, so softly you almost don’t hear it. You swallow hard, having forgotten until that moment about the night he’d told you his true name, while you were half-asleep and drunk, but your mind whispers it softly now, Minki. You find yourself lowering your own voice in response, feeling as though the two of you are shrinking somehow, being consumed.

“What about it?” He looks up at you, his eyes changing colors like the sky.

“I wasn’t— no mortal is supposed to know my name. Now that you do, I...” His grip on your hands tightens, his thumbs running over your knuckles as if he’s nervous.

“I’m bound to you. Eternally.”

You’re not sure what to say, then, staring into his eyes as they shift colors. You feel overwhelmed — as if the past six months hadn’t been enough, now this. The tears spring to your eyes once again, and you let out a sob, though for what reason you can’t quite tell, before promptly collapsing to the floor.

You wake up in your bed, and all the memories from the previous night come rushing back to you. You sit up immediately, heart pounding, but Ren is nowhere to be found in your bedroom. You close your eyes as the blood rushes too quickly from your head, stars floating behind your eyelids as you attempt to sort out your thoughts. Everything feels like just a little too much, but you know you can’t leave things as they were the night before. Eventually, you drag yourself from under the covers, throwing on a sweater that you’d had draped over your desk chair.

When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost want to cry again. It’s obvious that Ren had attempted to remove your makeup, but there are dark smudges left under your eyes from your eyeliner and mascara. It’s a sweet gesture, but there’s still a tight knot in your stomach.

Eternally, he’d said. You’ll never live a normal life — it’s going to be you and Ren, forever, and you can’t decide how you feel about that. You sweep your hair up into a bun and shuffle tiredly out of your room.

Ren is lying on your couch, but you know he’s not asleep. The curtains are drawn; he just lies in the dark. You can see a lump on the floor beside him glowing faintly orange, snoring.

“She’s still here?” You ask, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Ren doesn’t even look your way as he replies, voice strangely hollow,

“Hellhounds can’t be summoned for less than twelve hours at a time.”

“Oh.”

You shuffle awkwardly into the kitchen, putting on the pot for coffee before leaning against the threshold to look at Ren. You lick your lips and look down at the floor.

“I’m… I’m sorry about last night.” You can feel Ren’s eyes on you, but you’re too nervous to look up. All of your emotions are running high, and you just can’t seem to get your mind wrapped around this whole eternity business.

“Why are you apologizing?” He asks. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” As if hearing the desolate tone of his voice, Dolly whines and raises her head to look between the two of you. Her eyes no longer glow an unnatural yellow; in fact, she could easily pass for a normal dog now.

You pour two mugs of coffee and nudge Ren’s legs off the couch,

“Let’s just… talk.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him eye you so warily, his eyes all different shades of blue and purple and gray, but he takes the mug you offer and sits up against the arm of the couch. You do the same, tucking your knees to your chest.

Ren is first to break the silence as you sip at your coffee, not caring that it burns your tongue a bit.

“I know you have questions,” he says, and it’s as much permission as you’re going to be given. You stare into the dark, steaming liquid in your mug.

“If nobody is supposed to know your name,” you start. “Then why tell me? If the consequences are an eternity with me, then why?”

“Can I ask something first?” His voice sounds strained, and when you look up his eyes have gotten darker in color, his forehead crumpled. You nod.

“Do you hate the idea so much?” He asks, and you think you hear his voice crack. “Do you hate me so much?” You feel your heart drop, and you clutch your mug tighter in your hands. Dolly nudges your foot, and you wonder if she has some sort of emotional extra sense.

“No,” you say, softly. “I don’t hate you, I’m just… eternity is a long time, Ren.” He swallows hard and looks down into his coffee.

“I know,” he intones. “I guess— I guess I just got attached to you. That’s why I told you my name.” You nod, but you’re not really sure you understand entirely what he means.

“I’m not trying to force you into anything,” he says. “And I don’t need an answer now. I just want you to know that, even though I’m sorry about it, I’m being genuine when I say that... that I don’t think an eternity with you would be bad. At all.” You nod again, and you look up to meet Ren’s eyes. He still looks extremely concerned, his eyes dark and shifting rapidly.

“Okay,” you reply. “It’s going to take some time for me to wrap my head around this but... okay.” Ren still looks as though he’s going to be sick any minute, and so you nudge his leg with your foot, watching as his expression morphs into a slightly annoyed pout. You pull your leg back and adjust yourself, sitting with your legs crossed so you aren’t so closed off.

“Stop looking so anxious, you’ll get wrinkles.” Ren rolls his eyes, but his expression does soften when he looks back at you and takes a sip of his coffee. His eyes gradually start to lighten to a mix of browns and dark oranges and reds, and a hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips.

For the first time in probably twelve hours, you finally feel as though there isn’t a massive weight on your chest — instead there’s one on your lap as Dolly suddenly leaps up onto the couch between the two of you, her large head resting on your crossed legs. Both you and Ren let out a little laugh at her antics, though Ren is soon whining as her tail slaps his nose in her excitement.

You smile behind the rim of your mug, watching him through your lashes; you have a feeling, somehow, that everything is going to be okay.