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spideyjimin · 6 days ago

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Bloodlines entwined: X | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.

— pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader

— genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut

— rating: 18+

— words: 15,033

— warnings: teasing, strong language, swearing, mention of crying, sexual tension, mention of sexual frustration, mention of masturbation, mention of sex, dry humping, fingering, dom!jungkook, kind of masturbation, handjob, riding, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, nipple sucking, ass slapping, childbirth (please note that it might not be really accurate, I never gave birth so i don’t really know), screaming, crying, a lot of pain, blood, and mention of breastfeeding

— author’s note: so this is it. this is the final chapter of this series 😭 i can’t believe this series is over, and it truly breaks my heart. i got so attached to this series and worked so hard on it. i’ve spent days building this universe, and the characters and thinking about everything. i can say that I feel proud with what i did considering that it’s the first time I build this kind of series, and to be honest, I never thought i’d write a werewolf au 😅 again, i’m very sorry for all the time it took me to release this part but it’s been a hell of a journey with my hand, but things are finally getting better ✨ thank you so so much for reading this chapter & series!! 🩵🩵 it meant the world to me 🩵 there will still be an epilogue after this part so we’re not entirely done with this series! 🩵

Chapter X: bloodlines entwined

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

“I have some news to give you,” you announce as your eyes scan the classroom.

The little heads of your students are turned to you, and their little eyes are shining, excited to hear your announcement.

“I’m expecting a baby!” A smile grows on your face as you say those words out loud.

You haven’t said anything before because you were scared that something might happen to you or your little baby. But now that everything seems to be going just well, you feel like it’s about time your students knew. They are still very little, and very soon, you’re going to impose a drastic change on them. They need to get mentally prepared for that change.

“Where?” one of the students asks.

“The baby is currently growing in my belly,” you push up your shirt to show your baby bump.

Their eyes widen as they see your bump. Lately, you’ve been wearing larger clothes, sometimes even Jungkook’s clothes, as you wanted to be comfortable and hide your growing belly. For sure, your boyfriend doesn’t complain because he adores watching you wearing his clothes. Obviously, before you leave the house, he checks that you wear a bra as well. That would make you roll your eyes with annoyance.

“And very soon, he will be out, ready to meet you,” you add while caressing your stomach.

“When can we meet the baby?” a little one says.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” a girl asks.

“Well, it’s a boy, and you still will have to wait a while before meeting him,” you gently explain. “He’s staying inside until June.”

“Oooh, it’s in a long time,” a little boy pouts. “It’s even after my birthday.”

“I know, but around mid-May, another teacher will replace me because I won’t be able to continue to come anymore. The baby will be too heavy inside my stomach, and I will need to prepare to welcome him.”

They all nod, but you’re sure most of them don’t even realize the weight of your words. They will probably start crying when they understand you’ll leave for a while. That only thought breaks your heart. You love these little munchkins so freaking much.

“If you want,” you continue. “You can touch my belly and feel the baby kicking,” you suggest.

It might help them to understand the situation a bit more. As they stand up to walk towards you, you sit down on the chair to be at their level. Their small hands rest on your bump, and instantly, your little wolfy starts kicking. And then, an intense warmth spreads through your body. It’s your baby boy. He feels secure and safe, and he’s definitely enjoying feeling all this love.

“I can feel him,” one of the children screams with joy.

Their excitement and joy as they feel your son warms your heart. You only wish they could sense his energy the way you do because then they’d know just how happy he is. He may not be here physically yet, but his presence already feels so real. Looking at your little munchkins, your heart is overwhelmed with joy. This will forever be a moment engraved in your heart.

After that, you continued teaching them something new, and the day flew by quickly. At the end of the day, Jungkook waited for you at the school door. He has been doing this from the very beginning, and it’s honestly the highlight of your day. No matter what’s going on in the werewolf world, he finds the time to come pick you up at work. And that, you know it’s one of the many proofs of his love for you.

“I’ve something for you,” you say once you’re both in his car.

He narrows his eyes, seeming suspicious of what might be your gift.

“What is it this time?” he asks, which makes you roll your eyes.

“By the way you’re looking at me, you’d think I always give you shitty gifts.”

“We never know with you,” he replies, lips twitching in amusement. “Could be a rock with googly eyes, could be an ancient family heirloom. There’s really no in-between.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you scoff. “I think it’s time we officially retire ‘King Jungkook’ and go with ‘Drama Queen Jungkook.’ It suits you better.”

“I’ll inform the council during the next meeting and let you know afterward which title they chose,” he ironically answers.

This man is unbelievable. He’s always in for teasing you, but you know that it’s his way of flirting with you. And, well, you only love to tease him back. It’s also your way of showing him that you love him too.

“You know what?” you retort. “Next time, you’re getting a leaf with ‘fuck you’ written on it in glitter.”

“That’s original,” he laughs. “I guess I’ll hang it in my study so everybody will know what kind of gifts my girlfriend gives me.”

You roll your eyes, but you perfectly picture him doing it. It’d be funny to see a damn leaf with ‘fuck you’ on it in his special room.

“Now, I definitely want to get you that instead of what I’ve with me,” you smile at him.

He laughs softly but leans closer, eyes curious now.

“Alright, alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, troublemaker.”

You shake your head at the nickname with the brightest smile on your face. You reach into your bag and hand him a small, wrapped object. His big hands grab your gift before unwrapping it slowly. It’s a leather journal, similar to the one he currently has.

Jungkook has always had a journal where he writes down his own thoughts. At ten, his father bought him his first journal and advised him to lay down whatever would cross his mind. At first, he thought that he didn’t need it, but when the first shifts started to be a nightmare, he started writing what he was feeling. Over time, it helped him face his emotions and the world.

Every time he reaches the final pages, he buys a new one. Once fully complete, he places it in the library of his study to keep it handy in case he needs it. Sometimes, he opens one to read what he felt on a certain day of his life. For example, he’s been loving to reread the moment he realized you were his soulmate.

It warms his heart that you notice he’s reaching the last pages of his journal. It means more than he can even express. Even though you’ve caught him writing in his journal, he never realized you’d pick up on the little details.

The leather journal fits perfectly in his hands, his initials embossed on the cover. For a moment, he’s quiet, just running his fingers across the material. It is the first one that has his initials on it, and it will forever be his favorite one. Then he opens it and sees your handwriting on the first page.

“It’s so cool when I’m on my own,” he reads out loud, voice dropping slightly, “but it’s warmer in your arms.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, but his gaze lifts to meet yours, eyes softer now. Being in his arms is now your favorite place, and it reassures you beyond comprehension when he’s near you. And when he isn’t around, the world feels so cold.

“That’s really beautiful,” he murmurs. “You wrote this?”

You nod, feeling just a bit shy, but the way he looks at you—the weight of affection and awe behind his stare—makes your chest tighten in the best way. You wanted to leave a little note in his journal to remind him that you love him. Writing ‘I love you’ seemed so cheesy and so not you. So you tried to find something, and that sentence only made sense.

“It’s stupid,” you mumble.

“No,” he says, shutting the journal gently. “It’s not. It’s you. And that makes it perfect.”

Jungkook places the journal on his lap before passionately kissing you. There isn’t a day that goes by when he doesn’t feel grateful to have your love. It hasn’t been emotionally easy since meeting you, but he has never felt as much peace as he has lately.

Jungkook has been working in his study room for the past two hours. You ignore what he’s working on in there. The silence spilling from beneath the door is almost suspicious, especially considering that he usually spends these hours on the phone with other werewolves or alphas. But tonight? Nothing.

You don’t think too much about it. You’ve got your own work to finish, after all, tomorrow’s class isn’t going to prepare itself. To stay focused, you put your headphones on, drowning yourself in calm music to avoid eavesdropping or imagining whatever Jungkook is up to. It works, but only for a moment.

Once your lesson preparation is finally done, you stretch your sore muscles and head toward the living room, which, unfortunately, is right next to his study. Now that your brain isn’t occupied anymore, the silence from behind his door becomes harder to ignore. It's like calling you, teasing your curiosity.

You scroll through all the streaming apps possible, trying to find something to watch. You land on Ghostbusters: Afterlife, but you can't focus. The movie plays in the background, but your mind is in the study with him.

It’s the full moon’s fault. It was just last night, and your senses are still heightened. You feel raw, aware of every little thing about him. It's like your body has its own will and is tremendously drawn toward him. You shift on the couch, trying to resist the pull.

But the longer the silence lasts, the more tempted you are to give in.

Inside the study, Jungkook sits at his desk, completely still except for the quiet turning of ancient pages. The books spread out before him are filled with old lore and scattered, almost-forgotten histories. Most of them are in a script so faded that it takes him a second to make out the words. But he's patient. He’s determined.

He’s been taking notes in the new leather journal you offered him earlier today, and he’s been carefully underlining passages that mention rare werewolves, those born between two packs. Even though it’s quite normal to have mixed werewolves, it’s not really common. It’s actually even rare. Usually, pack members marry within their own pack. It’s quite rare for members of two different packs to marry and have children.

Based on what he got to read and what he knows, mixed werewolves are stronger than ‘normal’ werewolves, even though they naturally choose one pack at birth. But he doesn’t find anything about their strength in the womb, which is what he’s looking for.

So, it feels like it confirms what he and his family believe: your son is different. Powerful. Maybe even something the world has never seen. And he is actually convinced that it’s because there hasn’t been somebody like him. He’s a mixed werewolf and son of a king, and a hybrid. This is all uncharted territory for him.

And he wants to understand this. Not to control it; never that. But to protect him and to be ready. Becoming a father is already significant, but becoming a father of such a special being sometimes frightens him. So, he searches for whatever he can find to help him be ready.

As he writes down another line, he pauses, his head tilting slightly. He can feel you just outside the room, trying your hardest not to barge in.

A small smirk appears on his lips.

He knows you’ve been pacing back and forth in your mind, throwing on some random movie to distract yourself, but he can still feel that post-moon pull lingering in your chest, just like it is in his. That magnetic thread between you two, tugging and stretching thin.

You want to come in.

He hasn’t moved. Part of him wants to see how long you’ll last.

Another page flips. His pen glides against the paper.

Ten minutes pass.

Then fifteen.

And then…

A soft shuffle.

He hears the sound of your bare feet on the floor, followed by the faintest creak in the hallway. You open the door, finding him in the middle of books and writing in his journal. At first, you decide to wait until he looks up, but he doesn’t. He just waits.

And then, finally.

“Are you gonna ignore me or is this your new hobby?” your voice rings out from the doorway.

“Took you longer than I expected,” he smiles without looking up.

“Were you testing me?” your eyes narrow, but you can’t quite hide the small smile appearing on your face.

“I was working,” he says innocently, then finally lifts his gaze to yours. “You were testing yourself.”

“So, what top-secret king business are you doing in here that’s more important than being with your gorgeous, pregnant girlfriend?” you walk in, arms crossed but amused.

He chuckles, patting the chair beside him. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

And when you sit down and see the open books, the mess of notes, and the carefully highlighted lines, something shifts. The smile on your face grows bigger when you realize he’s been using the journal you gifted him.

“You’re doing this for him,” you softly say, your eyes scanning the delicate handwriting.

Jungkook nods. “If he’s going to be something the world’s never seen, I want to be ready. I want to understand what he might carry. What he might become.” He pauses. “And,” he adds, voice low, “I wanted to give you a reason to come find me.”

You bump your shoulder into his, trying not to melt.

“You’re such a tease.”

“You love it,” he says before kissing your temple. “Now help me understand this strange old sentence that seems like it was written by a drunk werewolf.”

You chuckle at his words, but you gladly help him out. And for the next hour, the two of you read some more books, trying to decipher what the eldest wrote. It’s not easy at all, but thankfully, there are also more modern ones that are way clearer.

“What is this?” you ask when a sentence in an old book catches your attention.

“Oh, it’s written in the old language,” he explains.

“Old language?” you frown.

“Yep, originally, werewolves had their own language called Lunari,” he begins. “Over time, we learned the ‘human’ languages to blend in. For a long time, we still kept talking Lunari, but we slowly stopped. The royal family still learns to preserve it and to be able to read ancient books. We are the memory of the werewolves. Some of them still learn it by curiosity, but nobody really practices it anymore.”

“Wow,” this blows your mind. “So, you can speak Lunari?”

“Yep,” he nods. “But I’m pretty bad at it,” he giggles. “Mingi, on the other hand, speaks it very well.”

“Why didn’t you ever mention it?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs with a crooked smile. “I guess I didn’t think it mattered much anymore. Nobody ever asks about it, and most days, I don’t feel very ancient,” he pauses for a moment, eyes softening as they meet yours. “But maybe I should’ve told you. It’s part of who I am. Part of what our son will inherit, too.”

“It’s okay,” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder. “But now I want to learn it too,” you smile.

His smile grows bigger, and his heart warms at your words. Even though you are part of this world, of his world, it still moves him that you want to be more involved in it. Learning Lunari will surely bring you even closer to this world.

“Did your mother learn it?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “She’s never been interested in it, and for my father, it was the best excuse to get mad at her or to incite us to do silly things without her understanding anything.”

Jungkook is brought back to a couple of years ago. He was ten back then, his mother was pregnant with Mingi, and his father told him something he still remembers to this day.

“Your mom’s tired, so let’s not bother her,” his father whispered in Lunari as he got down to Jungkook’s level with a conspiratorial grin. “But if you sneak into the kitchen and bring me two pieces of cake, I promise to teach you the curse words in Lunari.”

Jungkook chuckles at the memory, his eyes bright with nostalgia. He still remembers how he discreetly waited five minutes in front of the kitchen to ensure his mom wasn’t there. And then, very very slowly, he grabbed two pieces of cake from the fridge. He then ran as fast as he could to bring them to his father, who was sitting in the same chair he’s sitting in now.

He’d do anything to relive those sweet and funny moments with his father. They were so close.

“He’d use Lunari to start little ‘missions’ with me. Mom didn’t stand a chance,” he shakes his head fondly. “It was his way of bonding. Of teaching the language without making it feel like a chore. He made it fun.”

Thinking about little ten-year-old Jungkook stealing pieces of cake for his father makes you smile.

“Well, I hope you’ll find creative ways to teach our son the language, just like your father did,” you smile at him.

“Don’t even doubt it, sunshine,” he winks at you. “Our son will master Lunari.”

“I really hope so,” you say.

Jungkook’s hands slide around your waist as you settle on his lap, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark.

“And I’ll find creative ways with you too, sunshine,” he whispers, his voice low and velvety.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you arch a brow, already amused.

He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dripping with teasing warmth.

“Well, Lunari’s a very physical language. There is a lot of body expression. Might need late-night lessons. Hands-on, of course.”

You let out a laugh, smacking his chest lightly. This is all bullshit. This is just Jungkook being flirtatious with you. You’re absolutely sure that this language isn’t physical at all.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he begins. “I’m just very committed to cultural preservation,” he grins, pulling you closer.

“Maybe you could already show me a thing or two,” you whisper as your fingers trace circles on his covered chest.

His hands on your waist instantly push your hoodie higher to reveal your baby bump to your boyfriend’s hungry eyes. He then tells you how ‘pregnant woman’ is said in Lunari, and it sounds beautiful. It definitely sounds like an ethereal language. How can it not be used anymore?

His fingers caress your stomach as his mouth finds yours for a heated kiss. Lunari words fall from his lips, and man, hearing him speaking in another language is hot as fuck. It’s just a massive turn-on. Why didn’t he ever talk to you about this language before?

“You’re so fucking hot when you speak Lunari,” you tell him, your eyes meeting his lusty ones.

“I’m always hot,” his tongue licks your lips.

“You’re so full of yourself, Jeon,” you clap back.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” his eyes are so damn dark that it almost makes you look away.

“Maybe you are,” you tease him.

His fingers move up to touch your heated face, the most devious smirk growing on his face.

“The heat on your face says otherwise.”

You roll your eyes, ready to leave his lap for being annoying, but his strong arms wrap around your waist, making it impossible for you to move. But it also allows you to feel his growing crotch against your leg.

“Where are you going, Jeon?” he teases you.

“I’m not a Jeon,” you hit his chest.

“Of course you are,” his voice takes a sweet turn. “You became one the second you got pregnant.”

This hot moment has suddenly taken a very heartfelt turn, making you pout. You can’t believe what he just said.

“And you’re a Y/l/n,” you tell him, your fingers ghosting over his sharp jaw.

“A proud Y/l/n,” he grins. “It’s even better than Jeon.”

“You’re incredible!” you say.

His teasing and hot face suddenly becomes very serious.

“Would you like to take my last name when we get married?” he asks.

The question catches you a bit off guard because you never really talked about marriage. It’s like you already know you’ll get married one day, so there’s no real added value to bringing up the topic. But it’s still surprising to hear him talk about it.

The answer to his question seems quite obvious. His mother took his father’s last name when they got married, so you’ll have to do the same. These past few months, you got to see firsthand how traditional the royal family is. You’re not sure you’ll have much to say here. He’s the king, you’ll be his queen. Hence, you’ll take his name.

“Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” you reply with a small shrug. “You’re the king, and I’ll have to take your name, right?”

Traditionally, the queen always takes the king’s last name. Every queen before you has carried the name Jeon after marriage. It’s common in many cultures, but your mom never took your dad’s last name. People referred to her as Miss Y/l/n, but that wasn’t technically correct—not that she ever seemed to mind.

“Not sure if you know this,” Jungkook says, “but in our culture, the wife doesn’t take her husband’s last name. It’s our way of keeping a connection to our original families, even after marriage.”

You pause, surprised. It actually makes sense. Maybe that’s why your mother never changed her name either.

“My sister is still Jeon Dohee, even after marrying Namjoon, and he never expected her to change it,” Jungkook says gently. “But things are different for the king and queen. Taking the king’s last name is symbolic. It’s how you're officially recognized as the queen. It's like being crowned in name. But I’d never want to force you into it. In my heart, you're already a Jeon. The name doesn’t make that any more or less true.”

In all honesty, you never once thought about what would happen to your last name the day you get married. But now that Jungkook brings it up, it seems weird. Your mother never took your dad’s last name, even though they married before your birth. So you’re not sure of how things will go once you’re married to this man. However, if he really and deeply cares about you taking his last name, you’ll just do it.

“I’ve honestly never thought about this before,” you admit, your voice soft. “But if it matters to you, if it’s something tied to tradition, I’ll gladly take it. Carrying your last name doesn’t make me any less of a Y/l/n.”

“I might sound like a very old guy, but I’d honestly love for you to carry my last name,” his fingers tug a strand of hair behind your ear.

You offer him a sincere smile before pressing your lips to his. You rest your head on his shoulder, lips still tingling from the kiss. For a second, you silently just breathe him in. His hands soothe your back, and being here with him simply calms you.

When you started this whole insemination journey, you never pictured yourself living any of this. You thought you’d be a single mother, discussing the baby’s bedroom wall color with Lexi and Felix. Finding love was never part of the equation. Finding love was actually the last thing on your mind. But then, Jungkook appeared and flipped your world upside down.

“If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be having this kind of conversation, I would have laughed in their face.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “I started this whole journey thinking I’d be a single mother. I was ready to do it alone.”

“With Felix and Lexi, you would have never been alone,” Jungkook whispers.

“I know, but I mean that I never expected the baby’s father to ever come into the picture. I never once thought that I’d be falling for someone. Let alone a king,” you chuckle.

Jungkook hesitates between giving a sarcastic answer and being serious. But he goes for the second option.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he begins, his voice low and warm. “I never thought I’d be falling for my son’s mom. But how couldn’t I?” Your head lifts up to meet his gaze. “Your soul is the prettiest one I've ever met. And the second our lives collided, I didn’t want to be just the father of your child; I wanted to be yours. I wanted to come into the picture. I wanted you to let me in, even if I had to fight for it.”

A smile grows on your face at his words, while your heart totally melts.

“Well, hate to break it for you, but you fought for it,” you both chuckle. “You even accepted that we took it slow when we were seconds away from making love.”

“Aaah don’t remind me of that,” he shakes his head. “I had to finish by myself in your bathroom, and I thought that I’d die before you’d even let me in life.”

You roll your eyes because he’s always exaggerating.

“What?” he exclaims. “We were fucking with damn clothes and then, you threw at my face ‘Aren’t we going too fast?’.” He tries to mimic your voice. “I definitely thought our son would be born before you decided we weren’t going too fast.”

You still feel extremely sorry for what happened that day.

“But, well, good news, you convinced me that we weren’t going too fast before our son was born.”

“Thank God,” his hands move to your stomach to stroke it. “Not sure Jungkook Junior would have survived all this time.”

You roll your eyes once more.

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“Drama queen is my middle name.”

You laugh and shake your head.

“Let’s see if it will also be our son’s middle name,” you reply.

“With me as his dad, there’s no doubt about it,” he teases you.

You wrap your arms around him. Honestly, you simply can’t wait for your baby boy. You can’t wait to hold him in your arms and love him unconditionally, just like the way you love his father.

“You’re really proud of yourself, aren’t you?” you murmur, your voice dropping as your fingers tease the edge of his collar, nails grazing just enough to make his breath hitch.

Jungkook’s eyes drag slowly over your face, then down your body. He smirks, the corner of his mouth curling like he already knows what you’re about to do.

“When you’re sitting in my lap like that, looking at me like that,” his voice is already filled with lust. “yeah, I’m damn proud.”

You shift your hips just enough to feel the way his body responds beneath you. You already feel proud of yourself for turning him on in seconds, but well, you’ve been teasing each other for a little while already.

“I thought royalty was supposed to be humble.”

He leans in, his lips ghosting your jaw, hot breath brushing your skin. Shivers run down your spine as he does so, and damn, this man has so much power over you. He could make you come right here with his fingers alone.

“I’m the king,” he growls, voice low and rough. “I take what’s mine.”

Your pulse races. “And what exactly is yours, Jungkook?”

“You,” he says without hesitation. His hands slide up your thighs, fingers slow and deliberate. “This mouth. This body. Every soft sound you make when I touch you like this,” he presses you down against him, your breath stalling.

“Careful,” you whisper, but your voice wavers. “You might start something we can’t finish.”

His teeth scrape your neck, just enough to make your skin burn and make you gasp.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, “I thought you already knew that I finish everything that I start.”

You gasp once more when his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your fingers grip his shoulders as his mouth returns to yours, hungrier now, tongue sliding past your lips like he’s starving for you.

And maybe he is. Because the way he holds you, the way he kisses you, it's not just lust. It’s love, wild and unfiltered, carved deep into every heartbeat between your bodies.

“Do you even realize,” he mutters against your lips, “how beautiful you are like this? Carrying our son. Glowing like the goddess you are. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Tell me,” you whisper, already breathless.

But Jungkook doesn’t tell you; he shows you.

You don’t remember when the kiss deepened, only that your hands are now tangled in his hair and he’s devouring you like he needs you to breathe. His chair creaks beneath the pressure of your bodies tangled together, his hands roaming like he’s trying to memorize every curve.

“Jungkook,” you gasp as he grips your hips and rocks you against him, his mouth trailing down your throat, leaving heat in every place he touches.

“Tell me to stop,” he mutters, lips brushing the hollow of your collarbone. But the way his voice sounds, low and hoarse, says he’s hoping you won’t.

“Why would I ever want that?” you breathe, tilting your head back to give him more access.

“You drive me crazy,” he says, sliding your hoodie up slowly, savoring every part of newly revealed skin. “You walk around here looking like sin and expect me to keep my hands to myself?”

“I didn’t say that,” you whisper, guiding his hand where you need him most. “I want your hands on me.”

His fingers brush over your clothed pussy, and a moan instantly falls from your lips. God, this feels marvelous.

“Good,” he growls. “Because I don’t plan on letting go.”

He kisses you again, this time slower, deeper. His hand slips beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers tracing your skin like he’s praying to something divine.

Your back arches as his name escapes your lips in a breathless moan, and it’s that sound that breaks whatever control he had left. He pulls you closer, anchoring your body to his like he wants to burn this into his memory forever.

And he will.

Because here, in the quiet fire of his study, you’re not just his lover. You’re the storm he chooses to get lost in. Again and again.

“Take off your pants, sunshine,” he whispers against your lips.

You don’t have to be told twice. You instantly stand up, removing every single piece of clothing left on your body. Jungkook does the same, not wanting to waste any more time. When he sits back down on his chair, his hand finds his tick shaft to lazily stroke it. He looks like pure sin like that, but man, you’d be lying if you say that it’s a sin you wouldn’t like to get lost in.

“You look so hot,” you tell him.

His eyes look up at you with pure filth in them.

“Don’t even get me started on how fucking hot you look, sunshine,” he says with a deep voice.

In no time, you’re sitting on him again. You remove his hands from his dick and guide them to your core that is craving his fingers more than ever. He instantly rubs his fingers against your folds, making you moan. You bite your lower lip, trying not to make too much noise, but it’s a lost cause.

“Fuck, sunshine,” he swears. “You’re so soaked.”

Your hands wrap around his cock, pumping it at the same pace of his fingers. Your gazes are locked in each other, his mouth opened as you pleasure him.

“Don’t muffle your moans,” he practically begs. “I want to hear every sweet sound you make.”

“I don’t want the staff to hear us,” you admit, your breath hitching as his fingers work magic against your core.

A little chuckle leaves his lips before a mischievous glint appears in his eyes.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs with a smirk. “They’ve already heard us multiple times. At this point, I’d even say they take notes every time.

You gasp with surprise, your hands squeezing his dick. A strangled moan escapes his mouth.

“Jungkook!”

He just laughs and leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“What? I’m only giving them something to gossip about at dinner. ‘Did you hear yn again last night?’” He teases in a mock-serious voice. “‘Poor walls, they’re not built for royal passion.’” He continues.

One of your hands stops pleasuring him to swat at his chest, but he catches your wrist with a grin that spells trouble.

“I could always make it worse,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your jaw. “Be louder. Give them a real show.”

“Jungkook,” you warn.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then his lips move to your cheek, and then just beneath your ear. Each press of his lips is soft but promising something far less innocent. And honestly, you want him to ruin you, but you don’t want to make a lot of noise. It’s weird to imagine that the staff hears you while you’re making love with Jungkook.

“You sound like a horny teenager,” you laugh.

One of his fingers slips inside your hole, his eyes glued to your face to catch your reaction. Your mouth hangs open while you try not to moan like a savage. Your hands leave his already hard shaft to balance yourself on his shoulders.

“It’s the yn effect,” he replies, his finger thrusting into you. “I could make love to you all day long and never grow tired,” he admits. “I’ve never felt like this before. I’m so damn addicted to you. And I want everybody to know it.”

“Oh,” you moan while you shut your eyes. “Jungkook.”

“The way you moan my name,” he says while torturing you, “is the prettiest sound I've ever gotten to hear.”

Without realizing it, you start bucking your hips, a trail of moans falling from your lips. You don’t manage to hold back even if you want to. This man knows how to pleasure you with only one finger.

“That’s it, sunshine,” he whispers against your ear. “Let them know how good I make you feel.”

His cock twitches due to the sight in front of him, his glowing, and pregnant girlfriend melting under the weight of desire. How on earth did he get so lucky to have you? What did he do to deserve you?

“Jungkook,” you moan once more. “I want to come around your dick,” you confess.

A grin grows on his face before he presses a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“As you wish, my queen,” his eyes look up at you while his finger stops torturing you.

His hands hold your waist while you eagerly sit on him, his cock splitting you in half as it makes its way inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, but more than welcome. Your walls curve and mold into the shape of his massive shaft. You grip onto his shoulders as he bottoms up. He stops once he has reached your cervix to give you both some time to adjust.

However, you don’t want to wait at all, so you clench your walls around him. His eyes open wide with surprise.

“Please move,” you beg.

“You could have just said it instead of torturing me,” he says.

“What’s the fun of it if I can’t torture you?” you tease him. “You can’t be the only one doing it.”

“You drive me insane,” he starts to move, slow and deep. “And I fucking love it.” His lips whisper against your ear. “But don’t forget who always wins in the end.”

And then, your man shows you no mercy. He thrusts up into you at an erratic pace, making you both moan incredibly loudly. On top of that, your skin clapping against his is also echoing in the room. Well, there’s absolutely no doubt that the entire household staff is aware of what you’re both doing.

Your breasts bounce, and Jungkook stares at how they perfectly move. He’s totally hypnotized by the way they move. He has noticed how bigger they’ve grown over the past few days, and he’s definitely not going to complain.

“Your breasts are so big now,” he whispers before burying his face in them.

His mouth wrap around your left nipple and sucks it like there’s no tomorrow. This feels beyond overwhelming. His hard thrusts and his mouth on your nipple are too much. But you don’t care because the feeling is marvelous. It’s actually an exquisite torture, one you never want to stop.

“Blame it on the milk,” you manage to say.

“Eeeh, I’m not going to blame anything or anybody,” he admits against your nipple, his eyes looking up at you. “I’m the happiest right now.”

You chuckle, your fingers finding their way to his hair. Jungkook shows no mercy to you and fucks you hard and deep. Every thrust has you losing your breath and gasping when you inhale. You can only whine and moan, but Jungkook isn’t any better.

When you start clenching around him due to the growing wave inside you, his thrusts grow erratic. You know you’re extremely close to your orgasm, but you try to hold it back a little longer because you know that if you do it, it will taste even better when it hits you. You’ve gotten to experience it over the last times.

“Your pussy is so good,” he’s utterly consumed by lust.

His mouth leaves your nipples, and his hand slaps your ass which makes your hips buck. Honestly, you never thought you’d be into ass slapping, but man, every time he does it, you get wetter. He knows it, so he does it often.

But then, his hands hold your ass in place, and his feet plant in the floor so he can buck up, hitting your cervix so deep and hard that you’re squealing. He’s getting closer, you know it. You’re also very close.

“Shit, I’m so close,” you confess through moan.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Me too.”

Both of you are completely lost in pleasure, his thrusts now completely sloppy, while your moans are only getting louder. He slaps your ass once more, and without any warning, your orgasm hits you with an intensity you never experienced before. Fucking in a new place together with the extreme teasing must be the reason.

Jungkook follows you right after because of the way you’re pulsing on his shaft. His cock twitches before releasing his cum inside you. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer while you both get down for your orgasms.

Your breathing is still shallow, your bodies still locked together, but Jungkook doesn’t move away. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting slow, open-mouthed kisses along your damp skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice still thick from the intensity.

“I love you too,” you smile, your fingers combing gently through the back of his hair.

A few moments pass like that—hearts beating together, sweat cooling on flushed skin—before he finally, gently pulls out of you. He grabs a soft towel from the drawer nearby, the one he always keeps just in case, and carefully cleans you up.

“You have a towel here?” you furrow an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he shrugs as he now cleans his dick covered with his sperm and your juices. “I have to be ready in every room.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not my fault I can’t keep my hands to myself when I’m around you,” he admits.

He wraps his arms around you like you’re the most precious thing in the world before you press a chaste kiss on his lips. You snuggle in his embrace, eyes fluttering shut as you feel safe, warm, and utterly loved.

“We should get dressed before we get cold,” he whispers.

“I don’t want to move,” you pout.

“Me neither, sunshine, but we have to,” he says, standing up while still holding you tightly before putting you down.

Once you’re fully dressed, you head to the bedroom to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Faster than expected, you’re in a special delivery room, pushing a baby out of your body. Jungkook is holding your hand while you scream in pain. Giving birth is quite painful, but you try to navigate your pain like the midwife told you. She’s even here, trying to help you.

Carrying and giving birth to a royal werewolf is kind of special. Werewolves don’t give birth at the hospital for many reasons. They give birth at home. However, the woman carrying the next heir gives birth in a place especially built for royal births. Apparently, it was built centuries ago on sacred werewolf ground. No heir has ever been born outside this sacred ground.

It’s a beautiful room, designed in a way that the woman could give birth in her human or wolf form. Everything in this space has been crafted with intention, from the smooth stones to the domed ceiling open to the sky, which allows the moonlight to flow in. On a night like this, under the Blood Moon, it casts a glow so red that it almost feels unreal. There’s no hospital beeping, no sterile walls. There’s just silence.

Well, except for your screams, Jungkook’s sweet and encouraging words, and the voice of the midwife who guides you through the birth. This is completely different from any birth presented on tv.

And even though you’re in pain, you find beauty in it. In this exact same room, countless queens before you stood, cried, pushed, and welcomed life. Jungkook came to life in this exact same room, which is very poetic. Every crowded werewolf king was born between these same walls.

This is where heirs are born. Where bloodlines continue. Where the old world and the new meet.

But tonight is even more special than any other night. Tonight it’s the Blood Moon. The moon is extremely red tonight, and it feels like the universe knew that the future king would be born tonight. The redness of the moon reminds you of the color of the Blood’s pack. The same pack that your son belongs to. Even the name of this type of moon alludes to the powerful pack of the royal family.

“You’re doing an amazing job, sunshine,” Jungkook whispers against your forehead.

You’re not exactly in the most glamorous position right now. First of all, you’re fully naked with your knees and hands on the floor and legs open. Anyone behind you is graced with the prettiest view in the world, but who cares? This is the position that helps you give birth to your little boy. This moment right here isn’t about being pretty, it’s about bringing a new life to the world. And all that matters is to be in a position that feels safe.

“I don’t know,” you start crying in pain.

“Hey, listen to me,” he says, his gaze locked with yours. “You’re pushing a little being from your body under a damn full moon and you’re doing it amazingly. It’s a lot of pain, I know, but you’re doing great.”

Ah yeah, the full moon. Normally, you should have already shifted, and both Jungkook and the midwife are expecting it at any moment. But so far, you’re still a human, and it seems like you’re not about to shift at all. You can feel it in your bones. Apparently, it doesn’t matter if you’re in labor. If it’s the full moon, you shift and give birth in your wolf form. It has happened to a lot of women.

The most surprising part, as well, is the fact that you’re not shifting under this type of moon. The Blood Moon is more powerful than any other moon, making it harder to shift. Even some Alphas struggle. Not Jungkook, though. This man definitely masters everything, which doesn’t surprise you at all.

“You can do it,” he smiles at you. “I believe in you, sunshine.”

Even though Jungkook doesn’t really feel the excruciating pain you’re experiencing right now, he’s trying to help you. This is a physical pain, one that he can’t comprehend as he’s not a woman, and because the bond doesn’t make him feel the physical pain. It’s mostly the emotional one. And that one, he feels it in every cell of his bones.

The midwife soothes your back, trying to comfort you as well. She told you she had three children, the youngest being fifteen today. Her second child was born during a full moon, and she had to go through the pain of childbirth and the shift. She thought she’d die. It was a pain like no other. She shifted during labor, and she gave birth to her daughter as a wolf. It’s definitely crazy, but you can only have admiration for this woman.

“You’re really doing great, yn,” she says with a soft voice. “Listen to Jungkook.”

“It hurts so much,” you say.

“I know, sweetheart,” Nari, the midwife, answers. “But very soon, your baby will be here with you, and the pain will then calm down.”

All you want now is for your baby to be out, but he’s been taking all his time to go down. It isn’t his fault; he’s actually also in pain. It isn’t just you; it’s him too.

Nari told you that babies suffer too during birth, and honestly, you never considered it, but it makes sense. When the waters break, there is nothing between you and your baby anymore. It’s literally bones against bones. And in the middle of that, your baby has to descend and move his little head to pave the way out.

The warmth that he usually gives you when you’re not well isn’t there anymore. There’s something else, and maybe that’s what accentuates your pain. You’re not sure. There’s just so much going on right now. Everything is over-stimulating. And this has been going on for hours now.

Five minutes ago, you reached the pushing part. Your baby is close; he’s almost here. It’s a matter of minutes or seconds before meeting your little boy. Before meeting the life you’ve been carrying for nine months. And honestly, that’s the part you’re the most excited for. That’s the part you’ve been waiting for since starting this whole insemination journey.

Your body is shaking under the pressure and the pain, sweat clinging to your skin, but your mind is solely focused on one thing. It’s on him. On your son.

You’re so close to finally meeting the little soul who’s changed everything. The one who’s made you stronger, softer, and more alive than you ever thought possible. You feel Jungkook’s hand caressing your face. His voice murmuring something low in your ear, something encouraging, but you can’t make out the words anymore. All you hear is your heartbeat.

And when the next wave comes, you push with everything you have left. Not just with your body, but with your heart. You push like it’s the last time you have to do it. Nari is behind you, trying to check on the progression, and then her words echo in your mind.

“I see his head,” she says with evident joy. “One more push, sweetheart.”

You’re uncertain if you have any strength left in you, but if one final push is what it takes, you believe you can do it. Every muscle in your body is trembling, your heart racing with pain and anticipation. Jungkook disappears from your line of sight, but he’s behind you now, steady and silent, ready to be the first one to hold your son.

The room feels suspended in time, heavy with energy. The world quiets. It’s just you, your body, and the tiny soul about to arrive.

Then it comes. The final contraction crashes over you like a tidal wave, fierce and unstoppable. Your hands clutch, your jaw clenches as you scream through it. You push, not just with your body, but with everything in you. With love, with fear, with fire.

And in that breathless moment, you feel it—your son sliding from your body, the final connection breaking. It’s more than just physical. It’s like a part of your soul detaching, only to be reborn in a new shape. He’s no longer just yours alone. He’s himself now. A tiny, living being. A legacy. A future.

For a brief moment, the room is filled with silence while Jungkook catches your son. This silence seems impossibly long for you, but extremely short for your boyfriend, who watches your baby with absolute wonder. The baby you’ve both been longing for so long.

Then, the silence is suddenly shattered by the sound you’ve been aching to hear—a cry. Sharp, strong, impossibly real. Your baby is finally here. Your baby has finally left your body after all this time.

Tears form in your eyes instantly. You don’t even realize you’re crying until your vision blurs. Jungkook lets out a sound; a broken breath, part laughter, part disbelief. He now holds your son in his arms for the first time since it all started.

“He’s here,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “He’s perfect.”

“You can turn around,” Nari tells you while she rubs your back.

With shaky legs and with the help of Nari, you finally sit, and when you finally get to see Jungkook with your son, your heart instantly melts. Your boyfriend’s eyes look up to meet yours, and he gets closer to you to rest your baby in your arms. The second he’s rested against you, his cries calm down, your warmth reassuring him.

You hold him extremely tightly against you. It feels surreal. It feels like you’re in a dream. Your eyes are glued on your son, and you never want to look at anything else than him. Tears keep running down your face, but this time, it isn’t due to the pain. It’s due to the extreme love and joy your heart is experiencing right now. You don’t even notice Jungkook standing next to you and looking at the two of you.

“Let’s place you in a more comfortable position,” Nari informs you.

Both she and Jungkook guide you to a little place behind you. You remain seated, but your back is now pressed against a soft material. Your legs are wide open, the umbilical cord still connected to your body. For a little while, you stay like this. Jungkook sits next to you, his impressive hands caressing the top of the baby’s head.

“Okay, it’s now time to push the placenta out,” Nari tells you.

She hands a pair of scissors to Jungkook to cut the umbilical cord. You never let go of your son, too scared that he might disappear if he isn’t in your arms anymore. But you have to hand him to his father because the placenta needs to leave your body. After a couple of pushes, it’s out. Now, your belly feels empty. There isn’t anything there anymore. And you feel a little pain in your heart. You got used to feeling your son inside you, and he isn’t there anymore. He’s in his father’s arms.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook sits down next to you once more after Nari took your baby to check him up.

“Dead,” you honestly answer. “I’m destroyed and I feel empty too, but my heart has never felt this full of love.”

Jungkook’s hand gently strokes your thigh, and you rest your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes as you feel yourself slowly falling asleep.

“How does it feel now to be a father?” you ask, already half asleep.

“I became a father the second you got pregnant,” he says. “But now that I've gotten to meet our son, my heart is about to explode with love. I’ve never fallen in love this way.”

You’d like to say you’re offended, but you feel the exact same way. The second you laid eyes on your son, you fell in love with him. It’s a kind of love you’ve never felt before. It’s so pure and so strong at the same time. When you hear Nari getting closer to you, you open your eyes. She’s walking back to you with the brightest smile on her face.

“I’ll let you discover his pretty eyes,” she says as she places your baby in your arms.

Both you and Jungkook gasp when you see his beautiful eyes. Unexpectedly, he doesn’t have one eye color. He has two. One eye is blue and the other is red. He doesn’t belong to one pack only. He’s part of both. He’s a Shadow and Blood.

“It’s so pretty,” Jungkook whispers. “I’ve never seen anyone being part of two packs.”

“Seems like he didn’t want to choose,” you smile. “He wants to be both at the same time.”

“And that’s why he’s already strong. He got the best of both worlds.”

“It’s a first time,” Nari intervenes. “Nobody has ever belonged to two packs, and I’m already so proud that our future king will belong to my pack,” her eyes meet yours, “to our pack.”

Nari is a Shadow. When it came to giving birth, you didn’t want just any midwife. You wanted someone who understood you, who spoke the language of your blood and instincts. Someone who could guide you not just medically, but spiritually too. If something were to go wrong, she’d know what to do. It gave you peace, and that peace is what brought you here.

“And let’s not forget he also belongs to the humans,” Jungkook adds gently. “He carries human blood too.”

You glance at him, heart swelling. Your son is already so special, not only because he’s your son. He’s a hybrid, a Shadow, a Blood, and a future king. A future king with roots deeper than tradition, broader than bloodlines. He carries so much already, and he’s only a couple of minutes old.

“Yes,” you whisper, your mind drifting to your father.

For a moment, you think about your parents. Your mind brings back your father’s smile and your mother’s warm laugh. They would have been overjoyed. Their grandson would’ve been spoiled with stories, hugs, and the kind of love only grandparents know how to give. You know they’re watching, wherever they are. You hope they’re proud.

Even though they won’t physically be present, they’ll be in your heart. And your baby boy is lucky to have Felix as his grandfather. He’ll grow up with him and will call him grandpa, but you know he’ll grow up with stories of your parents. Just like he’ll grow up with the stories of his grandfather, Taemoo.

“And what will be his name?” Nari asks, her voice cutting gently through the stillness.

You smile. The question lingers in the air, heavier than expected, not because it’s unexpected, but because this moment feels sacred. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your closest family. You and Jungkook decided early on to keep it secret, away from opinions or superstitions. This name wasn’t up for debate. It was chosen, not by trend, not by suggestion, but by instinct.

“Kai,” you say simply.

Nari’s eyes brighten, her smile wide and genuine.

“A unique name for a truly unique child,” Jungkook adds, pride clear in his voice.

You glance at your son, swaddled and sleeping peacefully, as if the world hadn’t just shifted around him. For the longest time, he was supposed to be Minho, a name you both adored. But the moment he made his presence known, strong and certain, you realized he needed something different. Something rare. Something that fits.

Minho was sweet. But Kai… Kai felt like destiny.

Maybe Minho will be the name of another son one day. But this boy? This boy was born under a Blood Moon, in a sacred place, with shadows and royalty in his veins.

Kai was always meant to be his name.

“It’s a sweet name,” Nari answers.

“Thank you,” you look up, your eyes meeting hers for a moment.

It’s extremely unreal to realize you just gave birth to the next king. It’s already surreal that you’re dating one, but now? Now, your blood runs through royal veins. Your lineage and Jungkook’s, once separate, are forever bound together in the heart of a child who carries both your worlds.

Bloodlines entwined, not just by fate, but by choice. By love.

After a little while, Jungkook carries you back to the main house while Nari holds Kai. You have absolutely no more energy left in your body. It’s like Kai sucked it all up while joining you. And your boyfriend doesn’t want you to make any more effort tonight.

“Can you please take care of him while I help her take a bath?” Jungkook asks Nari once inside.

“Absolutely,” she answers.

Jungkook’s arms hold you very tightly as he makes his way to the bathroom next to your bedroom. First, he lays you down on the bed and then disappears to turn the water on. You’re slowly falling asleep, and you’re internally battling to keep your eyes open, but it’s extremely hard. You desperately need to sleep.

Nari, on her side, is in your son’s room. It’s the room right in front of yours. You’ve prepared and decorated it before your baby’s arrival. To your eyes, it’s the prettiest room in this house.

When the bath is filled with hot water, your boyfriend comes back. A smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re in the exact same position.

“You haven’t moved,” he comments.

“I’m too tired, Kook.” You don’t even have the energy to say his full name.

His hands remove the blanket covering your body before holding you once more. He lays you in the hot water, making you gasp as you feel it surrounding your sore body. Jungkook sits on the floor, his eyes filled with so much pride.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his fingers tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thank you for being such a wonderful and powerful person.” Your eyes look up to meet his. “Thank you for giving birth to our son. Thank you for making me a father,” his eyes are glowing like never before. “Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world.”

“You don’t have to thank me, angel.” Your hand finds its way to his cheek to stroke it. “We’ve done this together.”

“I feel so grateful to have you,” he says. “But now that you’ve given birth to Kai, I feel even more grateful. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so damn lucky that fate made you my soulmate. Life before you felt tasteless. You’re literally my sunshine, and I’m so in love with you. Even more now that I got to witness this incredible moment.”

Something has changed in Jungkook, you can see that although you’re extremely tired and half awake. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but he’s definitely glowing. Tears start forming in your eyes as he pours his heart out for you.

“You’re going to make me cry, Jungkook.” Your hand never stops soothing his cheek.

“Marry me, yn,” he blankly says.

Your eyes widen, your hand instantly halting. Even though you knew it would happen one day, because of the soulmate bond, it catches you by surprise. You didn’t expect to hear those words on the day you’d deliver your son.

You always imagined the proposal to take place a bit later on, maybe in two years or something like that. You thought that it would happen around a romantic moment that Jungkook would have planned weeks before. He would bend down on his knee with a velvety box in his hand, and a beautiful ring would be on display.

“Jungkook…” you whisper. “Did you really just ask me to marry you while I’m floating half-dead and asleep in a tub, and bleeding?”

“There’s no version of you I’d love more than this one.”

You shake your head softly with a little smile on your face. Your boyfriend is being extremely adorable, and you feel so thankful to have him in your life and have him as your baby daddy.

“You should’ve waited,” you begin. “You should’ve waited a least a couple of days or waited until I felt like myself again.”

“I couldn’t wait, sunshine,” he says, his voice low and steady. “What happened today…. I’ve never seen anything more powerful and more beautiful than you today. You brought our son into this world. You made him.”

He leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead. Your eyes instantly close to savor this moment.

“Seeing you here after giving birth to our son, it just feels like it’s the right moment. Any other moment won’t ever feel as right as this one. You, looking like a sleepy goddess who just conquered the world, are exactly who I want to annoy for the rest of my life,” he smiles while you open your eyes again to look at him.

Jungkook brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles, his warm mouth contrasting with the room's cool air.

Your heart swells in your chest, emotions flooding in all at once. You’ve just brought life into the world, and now Jungkook is looking at you like you hung the moon. After everything, after the hours of pain, fear, and wonder, his words wrap around your heart like silk, softening the sharp edges of exhaustion.

And it hits you all over again: this is your person—the one who’s seen every version of you and still chooses you wholeheartedly.

“Marry me. Not because it’s tradition or timing. Not because we had a child. Marry me because you're my home, and because we were written into each other long before we ever met.”

“You’re really going to ask me to marry you while I’m naked, bruised, and leaking all sorts of fluids?” You smile through your exhaustion.

“You make leaking look ethereal,” he grins.

You groan and laugh at once. “God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

And he’s right, you don’t. You love him with all your soul. You love him enough to say the one word that makes his whole world stop for a moment.

“Yes.”

His breath catches. He blinks once, twice, then leans in to kiss your temple like you’re the most sacred thing he’s ever touched.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin.

“Yes, Jungkook.”

He rests his forehead gently against yours.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life thanking the moon for you.”

When you open your eyes, you’re graced with the prettiest view you’ve ever got to witnessed. Jungkook is holding Kai tightly in his arms and is rocking him while singing a lullaby. You never knew that you needed this in your life. For a brief moment, his eyes meet yours, and a wide smile appears on his face.

“Mommy is finally awake,” he sings to your son.

Nari stayed the entire night to help you out. It was more than a struggle to stay awake, and you actually fell asleep in the bath while Jungkook was cleaning you. But then, you woke up several times with your son’s cries, and you even started to breastfeed him after several failed attempts.

Jungkook woke up as well and made sure you’d fall asleep right after nourishing your baby. He wanted you to sleep as much as possible because you went through a physically traumatic experience. Your body needs to recover from it, and it starts with getting as much rest as possible. So basically, he was mostly the one taking care of Kai. And you’re absolutely thankful for that.

“She is the most special person in the whole wide world,” he continues. “She’s my lover and your mommy. We are both so lucky to have her.”

You can’t help but smile as you hear him sing. For a moment, your eyes take in the sight in front of you.

Jungkook stands shirtless, his chest rising and falling steadily as he cradles your baby against him. His strong arms cradle Kai with such ease, the quiet strength in his touch wrapped in a tenderness that steals your breath. It’s a contrast so beautiful, it tugs at something deep inside you. His hair is all over the place, and the faint dark circles beneath his eyes tell you everything you need to know—he barely slept last night, too busy taking care of both of you.

This sight feels like a dream you never knew you had. If this is how you’re going to wake up every day from now on, then well, you won the damn lottery. Honestly, you won it when Jungkook entered your life and showed you what true love is. Throughout those past nine months, he stood by your side, braved every storm with you, and held your hand through it all. Kai is lucky to have him as his father.

“She’s the strongest woman I know,” Jungkook hums softly, his eyes still on Kai. “She brought you into the world with so much courage, and somehow, she still looks like an angel while doing it.”

“I probably look like a wreck,” you laugh lightly, your voice raspy from sleep.

His gaze meets yours, his smile softening. This version of you is one he never saw coming, yet he’s fallen harder than he ever imagined. To him, you're breathtaking. You’ve just brought life into the world, and despite the exhaustion etched into your features, he sees nothing but beauty and power.

“You look like the prettiest wreck.”

That causes your face to warm, and your eyes sting with the sudden wave of emotion. You shift slightly under the covers, your body still aching, but your heart overflowing. The postpartum period won’t be easy, you know that. It’s already quite painful to move in bed, but you have to take it slow. Jungkook is by your side; he even took some time off from his royal duties.

His mother, Jisoo, is actually going to step in to manage everything else while you and Jungkook settle into this new chapter. He won’t be fully stepping away from his duties, but for as long as you need him, you’ll be his only priority. He wants to help you, and he also wants to be a present father for Kai. There’s no way he won’t be present in the first moments of his son’s life.

Jungkook walks over to the bed, still holding Kai, and kneels beside you. Your eyes look down at your baby, who looks absolutely perfect.

“We missed you,” he murmurs.

“I missed you both too,” you whisper, reaching out to trace your finger gently along Kai’s tiny cheek. “I still can’t believe he’s here.”

“Me neither,” Jungkook confesses. “But it feels wonderful to have him here. I don’t want to ever let go of him.”

Your hand moves up to stroke your boyfriend’s cheek, and his eyes instantly flutter shut. His face leans into your palm instinctively, and it feels like your skin is the only anchor he needs. For a moment, neither of you speaks—there’s no need to.

Everything you’ve been through, everything you feel, lives in the quiet between your breaths. You trace the curve of his cheekbone with your thumb, and when his lashes finally lift, his gaze is soft and reverent, like you’re the most sacred thing he’s ever seen.

Your boyfriend then places Kai in your arms before he stands up and sits next to you in bed. Your eyes land on your baby. The most beautiful and perfect being you’ve ever seen. His tiny, round nose reminds you of his father’s. His full cheeks remind you of yours in that portrait your grandparents have. And in all honesty, you feel like your son looks a lot like your mom.

“He’s so perfect,” you whisper while your finger gently traces over his nose.

“He is,” Jungkook whispers near your ear.

Your boyfriend rests his chin on your shoulder, the two of you completely hypnotized by the little life you created together.

“He’s incredibly perfect because he takes a lot after you,” Jungkook’s words echo in your mind. “It almost feels like I didn’t contribute at all in here. He’s just a tiny and mini version of you. And man, that makes him even prettier.”

“He has your nose,” you answer. “And your eyes.”

“Only one,” he smiles.

It’s still so disturbing to have a baby with heterochromia, especially since the colors are extremely different. Red and blue.

“I’m not speaking of the color,” you shake your head. “I’m talking about the shape.”

“Other than that, he just looks like you.”

“I think he looks a lot like my mom,” you admit. “Remember the pictures my grandparents showed us?” Jungkook nods. “When I look at Kai, I see the one taken a couple of hours after my mom was born.”

Now that you said it, Jungkook can’t unsee it. Your son definitely takes after your mom, but your boyfriend is still convinced Kai is a mini version of you.

“But he also looks a lot like you, sunshine. When I look at him, all I see is you.”

Slowly, Kai opens his eyes. Although it’s weird to see two eye colors, it just suits him. It makes him even more perfect.

“Seems like you’ve decided to shake our world completely, little prince,” Jungkook speaks out loud. “Being a hybrid wasn’t enough,” his finger strokes his cheek. “You also needed to belong to two packs,” he pauses for a bit. “You’re just like your mother.”

“We decided it was about time that things changed over here,” you answer with a bright smile on your face.

Your son’s eyes move from you to Jungkook, and it feels like he recognizes you. And then, out of the blue, you both feel the warmth Kai used to spread while inside you. His strong powers already echo around you, enveloping you in a protective shield.

“This little man is definitely going to change everything,” Jungkook says with evident emotion in his voice. “Look how powerful he already is.”

“He’s the result of bloodlines entwining,” you answer. “He carries the blood of Bloods, Shadows, and humans.”

Kai is living proof that mixing blood isn’t a weakness—it’s a strength. A strength that ancient werewolves tried to suppress. And the more you think about it, the more it seems that those old rules weren’t about protection—they were about fear. Fear of what could happen if bloodlines entwined. Fear of power that couldn’t be controlled. But now, with your birth and Kai’s, that fear looks small. Outdated. Because you both are proof that the bloodlines don’t need to be pure. They need to be united.

“In the end, keeping the bloodline pure only made us weaker,” Jungkook mumbles.

“And Kai is the proof of it.”

Kai’s birth was announced to the entire werewolf world within hours. The birth of the next king was celebrated across continents, and the Shadows bowed to the heir who carries their blood. The moment you heard it, you cried.

News of his heterochromia was also announced, marking him as the first werewolf chosen by two packs. A miracle. A first. His dual heritage surprised everyone, and now you’ll have to figure out what that means for his future. But that can wait.

Right now, all that matters is him. Your son. The tiny miracle you carried, birthed, and now hold in your arms.

Jungkook’s family and your family, meaning Lexi and Felix, are all gathered in the biggest living room of this palace. Instead of having your families come one by one to visit you and meet Kai, you decided to invite them all together. You’ve also done it because it’s going to be the first time humans and werewolves are together in the same room.

You also can’t wait to catch their reaction when they see Kai’s eyes. While pregnant, you explained this eye thing to Lexi and Felix so they wouldn’t be surprised when they meet your son for the first time.

Both you and Jungkook are head over heels over Kai. He’s been crying a lot, sleeping a lot, but he’s absolutely adorable. You’ve never been this happy. This journey as a mother has been going much better than you expected when you decided to get inseminated. Being a mother with a father by your side is even better than being a single mother. You get a shoulder to cry on when it’s too much.

When you and Jungkook enter the room with Kai in his arms, all the heads turn to look at you. A smile grows on their faces. Dohee’s kids aren’t present yet, but they’ll get to meet their cousin later on today. Both Felix and Jisoo take a step closer to lay eyes on their grandchild for the first time. You can see a tear running down Felix’s cheek, and man, it does make you feel emotional.

“Mom, Felix,” Jungkook begins, “this is Kai, your grandson.”

At that moment, Kai opens his eyes as if he knows he has to reveal himself to his family. They both gasp as they see with their own eyes the blue and red in their grandson’s eyes. They are totally aware of it because you told them when announcing your son’s birth. It’s something you couldn’t hide from them.

“It’s impressive,” Felix whispers as he gets closer to run a finger over Kai’s cheek.

It definitely makes you extremely emotional to see him become a grandfather. Kai is so lucky to have him as a grandpa because you know damn well Felix will cover him with so much love. Your son won’t ever get to meet your birth parents, but he’ll grow up with the person you chose to call dad.

“It really is,” Jisoo adds. “This little baby is already so special.”

Your son has been special since the day he was conceived. Born to a king and a hybrid.

“Let me see my nephew,” Lexi rushes to your side.

She holds your hand before squeezing it when she lays eyes on her nephew.

“Damn, he really took after you,” her eyes meet yours. “He’s as beautiful as his mom.”

“For once, you’re acknowledging my good looks,” you tease her.

“And it’ll be the last time,” she smiles. “But you both did a great job with this little munchkin. He’s really handsome.”

As Jungkook’s siblings gather around you as well, Kai suddenly shields you and Jungkook, trying to protect you from your own family. They all feel this invisible energy, even Felix and Lexi, who aren’t werewolves. His family struggles to fight it, and their urges to shift.

“It’s okay, little man,” you whisper as you caress his sweet little face. “They are family.”

It’s weird to feel his protective aura all the time. You’ve never experienced something so strong, but you’re so proud at the same time for creating this powerful person. Experiencing it during your pregnancy is one thing, but it’s a totally different now that he’s out.

“Wow, this little guy isn’t joking,” Mingi says. “He’s only two days old and already displaying his powers.”

Honestly, this scares you as well. Your son might be perceived as a threat, and some people might try to do horrible things to him. The first person that crosses your mind is Yuna. She never accepted his existence because of who you are, and because he’s the son of the man she still loves.

“Don’t worry, sunshine,” Jungkook speaks to you through thoughts. “We’ll protect him no matter what.”

“I know, but what if it’s not enough?” Your eyes look up to meet his.

“He seems to be proving he can protect himself and his loved ones.”

“But he’s so little,” you add.

“Look around, love,” he continues. “All these people love him and will protect him. I totally understand you, but I prefer to believe we will all protect him and never let anyone harm him. I don’t want to think negatively.”

Your eyes look at all the people in this room. You don’t doubt the slightest that they’ll do everything in their power to protect him. Jungkook’s family is one of the strongest in the werewolf world. People don’t really stand a chance against them, and they will most probably not stand one face to this little powerful being. But as a mother, you can only be concerned.

Jisoo notices that you’re speaking through thoughts, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t want to ruin whatever conversation you’re having. But she can tell you’re concerned about something. She guesses that it’s about your son’s strength.

Slowly, Kai’s protection fades away.

“How can he do that? How can he know who to protect at such a young age?” Hyunjin asks, baffled.

“We’re not entirely sure,” you admit. “We know he recognizes me because I carried him for nine months. Maybe he hasn’t fully realized he’s no longer inside my body.”

“As for me,” Jungkook adds, “we think he recognized my voice, maybe even sensed me through the soulmate bond.”

“We also believe he recognizes us through blood,” you continue. “Like an instinct—he feels that we share the same blood. But that’s just speculation.”

“We read so many books about mixed bloods, and every one of them said something different.”

Felix helped you decipher a few of the more ancient texts. Thanks to his background in old languages, he managed to translate fragments that spoke of blood recognition—that mixed-blooded children can identify their lineage through something deeper than scent or voice. It’s wild to think about, but those same texts claimed their strength is tied to that very connection.

Everything is so uncertain with Kai, but as he grows up, you’re sure you’ll get to understand it better. Kai is unique, and until he has another sibling, no one else will be like him. Since Kai chose to belong to two packs, any possible child you might have will also belong to two packs. It’s something you've gotten to learn through those many ancient books. All mixed-bloods siblings choose the same pack.

“Well, we’ll learn with him,” Jungkook adds. “Kai is different in every possible way, so we’ll figure everything out through him.”

And you already know that it’s going to be a bumpy road. You’re in the dark with him, and you’ll have to navigate parenthood with his uniqueness. For sure, it won’t be easy, but you’ll have Jungkook by your side, and you’ll shower this baby with love. He’s never going to feel different, although he is.

With Felix and Lexi, he’ll learn to embrace his human side. With the Jeon’s family, he’ll learn to embrace his wolf side. With you, he’ll learn to embrace the best of both worlds. And with Jungkook, he’ll learn to embrace his destiny as the next king. Kai is never going to be alone.

“And we’ll be by your side,” Jisoo says. “He’s never going to be alone with all of us.”

“Let’s not focus on that right now,” Felix says. “He was born two days ago, and we should celebrate him. He’s absolutely adorable,” his eyes look down at his grandson before he caresses his cheek. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, little man. I’ve been waiting for you for over a year now.”

It’s probably been almost two years since you started this insemination journey, and Felix has been there from the very beginning. Nothing went as planned, but in the end, your baby is finally here, which was the original plan. The project was to have a baby, and he’s here.

“I can’t believe I’m an auntie now,” Lexi says. “I’m going to spoil this kid and be the best auntie ever.” Her eyes look at Dohee. “Sorry, I’m just too fabulous.”

You roll your eyes before shaking your head with a smile on your face.

“You’re incorrigible!” you say.

“You’re starting a competition here, Lexi,” Dohee retorts to your sister, “and I’ll smash you. Kai will adore me more than you.”

The two of them are so silly, but you can’t wait to see how it will be once your baby is older. There’s no doubt he’ll love them both so much, although it’ll be different.

“Luckily, he only has paternal uncles and we don’t need to compete with anyone else,” Mingi chuckles.

“You’re all too crazy,” Jisoo says. “You’re going to traumatize this little one.”

“His parents are already doing that,” Hyunjin replies.

“Eeeh,” you say.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow and smirks, rocking Kai gently in his arms. You can already sense that he’s going to say nonsense. It wouldn’t be Jungkook if he didn’t do it. This man always has an answer to all, even if it’s bullshit.

“Excuse you all, but I am clearly his favorite. I’m the one with the good hair,” he says, flipping his hair dramatically like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “He was born obsessed with me.”

The room erupts with laughter, and you shake your head. This man is incredible!

“Delusional,” Lexi fires back.

“Absolutely tragic,” Dohee adds with a snort.

“That’s the sleep deprivation talking,” Mingi says, shaking his head.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on any of you,” Jungkook shrugs, unbothered. Then he leans in toward Kai, voice soft but teasing: “Don’t worry, little prince, I’ll protect you from your dramatic aunties and uncles.”

After that, you spend the next hour with your family. All of them carried Kai in their arms for a little while. They are all absolutely in love with your little man, like you and Jungkook. Who can’t fall in love with him?

Once they are all gone, you place Kai in the little crib and sit down on the couch. You’re exhausted, dead, and very much sleep deprived, but extremely happy. This family moment filled your heart with so much joy and happiness.

“We did it,” Jungkook says. “We had the little baby we wanted.”

“And we found love in the middle of the journey,” you continue.

“That’s the best part of it all,” he chuckles.

Jungkook gently presses his lips to yours, kissing you with so much passion. Your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck while his hands land on your waist.

“Let’s have more handsome babies,” he whispers against your lips.

“Eeeh, give me some time to recover from this birth,” you answer. “And then, I’ll give you as many babies as you want.”

“Really?” his eyes sparkle, and he’s absolutely adorable.

“Yep,” you nod.

Jungkook’s grin grows wider. This man is up to no good. It doesn’t even surprise you because he’s always such a tease. But that’s how you love him so much.

“Dangerous words, sunshine,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers brush slow, lazy circles on your waist. “You can’t just offer me a whole army of mini-us and expect me to behave.”

You laugh, your nose brushing his. To be honest, it feels great that nothing has changed between you two despite becoming parents. You were afraid that everything would become different, but except for the part that another person is living in this house, things are pretty much the same with Jungkook.

“I said after I recover, Mister Drama Queen.”

He leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear now.

“I’ll try to behave, but no promises. You know what you do to me,” his breath is warm, his tone deliciously suggestive.

Your fingers tug lightly at his hair again, lips curling into a smirk. Of course, you know the effect you have on him, but you have still to recover from this birth. Your kid ripped everything inside you when you were pushing him out of you.

“Behave, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch. And Kai’s sleeping in our bed now, so good luck trying anything, Your Highness.”

Jungkook groans dramatically. It’s definitely weird for the two of you to have a third person in your bed. It feels so small now, but you wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“You’re evil. Beautiful, irresistible… and evil.”

You bite your lip to suppress your smile, fully aware of the effect you have on him.

“Welcome to fatherhood.”

Jungkook rests his head on your shoulder, your hands threading slowly through the softness of his hair, the two of you tangled in this hazy, post-baby bubble. The living room is quiet now, just the soft hum of nighttime settling in like the world itself is holding its breath for you.

“You really are going to make me work for those future babies, huh?” you feel him groan against your shoulder.

You giggle softly, your fingers still gently tangled in his hair.

“Parenthood’s a long game, mister. You better pace yourself.”

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, and suddenly, all the teasing fades. His eyes carry that look again. The same look you always fall in love with.

“I’d wait a lifetime if it means doing all of it with you,” his fingers trace invisible lines on your cheek.

And just like that, something inside you shifts. A rush of memories floods in. Memories of who you both were before this love, before the baby, before the chaos and healing and magic that brought you here. There were days when you weren’t sure you’d ever feel this full. But now, it feels like your heart has stretched to hold two lifetimes at once.

“You’re really trying to charm me right now, aren’t you?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Is it working?”

You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Always.”

His arms wrap a little tighter around your waist, pulling you just close enough for your head to rest against his chest. You can hear his heart—steady, strong, and completely yours.

“Then let me be this version of me forever. Just a man in love with his girl and wrapped around her finger.”

You laugh into his neck, comforted by the heat of him, by the home you’ve built in his arms.

“Careful what you wish for, Mr. King. You might end up changing all the diapers.”

“Worth it,” he replies without missing a beat, planting a kiss on your temple. “For you? I’d do it all.”

You smile into his chest, letting yourself melt for just a moment longer. Being in his arms is your safest place. It’s where you belong now. There’s no other place you’d like to be right now. Being with Jungkook was always your destiny, and man, thinking about spending the rest of your life with him feels wonderful.

Very soon, you’ll probably get married, and hopefully, more babies will be added to the mix. You’ll get to witness Jungkook as a father and as your lover, something you’re definitely looking forward to. It feels like you can’t love him even more than you do now, but you know that tomorrow, you’ll love him more than you do today. It has been like that since the day you first met him at the clinic.

That day seems so far away when, in reality, it was nine months ago, but so much has happened since then. You've got to discover yourself. You’ve got to discover the truth behind your parents' relationship and death. You’ve got to meet your grandparents. And you’ve got to meet the love of your life.

Today, you’d like to visit your old self. The ten-year-old version of you who lost her parents. You’d hug her, hold her tight in your arms, and cry with her. You’d tell her that everything will go just fine. You’d describe your life and let her know that, one day, she’d be incredibly happy. Maybe she wouldn’t believe you because of the pain, but she’d eagerly wait for that day to come.

Life didn’t treat you well at some point, and you still have to deal with the pain and emptiness you constantly feel. But today, you have Jungkook and Kai. They won’t for sure heal you and fill that void, but they’ll ease the pain.

In the end, the tragic end of your parents has shaken the whole werewolf universe. Your presence alone changed an ancient law, and one day, you’ll get to wear a crown. One that Jungkook will place on your head. You know that if your parents had the chance to know back then what you’d become, they would have died in total peace. They’d have most probably been proud to know their grandchild would become king.

Kai is the result of many bloodlines entwining together. He’s the result of a love story between a Blood King and a Shadow hybrid, but he’s also the beginning of that love story. Without him, maybe today, you wouldn’t have met Jungkook yet. Maybe you’d even spent years before meeting him. It’s crazy to think that Kai is the reason you’re together today.

As you look at Jungkook and Kai, your heart swells with so much love and pride. A smile grows on your face as you reflect on your life. You reflect on what has been the past thirty years of your life.

You survived. You loved. And now, you live for all three of you.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jung #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bloodlines entwined: chapter 10 #bloodlines entwined #spideyjimin

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oceanwithouthermoon · 4 months ago

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I like your saiteru posts but I can't shake the idea that Teruhashi only loves the idea of Saiki and not actually Saiki, especially since she hated when he gave her a glimpse of himself when he was competitive during their date.

ive seen this take floating around a few times, this whole "teruhashis mental image of saiki is wrong" "teruhashi wouldnt love him if she got to know him" "teruhashi hated any time she saw his REAL personality" and i just dont get it because like...

this scene?? the scene where hes being inconsiderate, rude, not taking her feelings into account, making her play games she doesnt even want to play, acting like a gooner, etc? THIS is the scene you thought was him showing her a glimpse of what hes really like??? where did you get that from?/genq

hes competitive, yeah, but this… isnt being competitive, its just being an asshole. thats not what hes like when hes trying to win. him wanting to win games and show off with his powers is not equivalent to being an inconsiderate tryhard who wants to make everyone do what he wants with no thought to what they want…

but youre ALSOOOOO forgetting that she actually did end up being like… “hehe i still wuv him 😚” after this…

so.. on THAT note, i need everyone to pay really really close attention to what im about to say…

she loves him when hes rude, inconsiderate, pushy, competitive…

she loves him when hes open, popular, kind, powerful, reading her mind…

she loves him when hes gloomy, monotone, boring, quiet…

she loves him when hes a GIRL.

so why is the conclusion here “she wouldnt love him for the real him”? the logical conclusion here seems to be “she would love him no matter what”

WHAT ABOUT THAT DOESNT SCREAM “LOVE”?

and regarding her "only loving his persona the same way people only love teruhashis", i think everything above disproves that anyway but i have to go more into it because not only have you misunderstood me but this also implies you think none of saiki and teruhashis friends truly love them at all 😭

saikis quiet, boring self isnt completely not him. its still him, just a different side of him than you might be used to as a viewer. you guys have to understand that although, yes, he is masking and putting up a front, that doesnt mean EVERY part of him that people see is fake 😭 its the same with teruhashi, she doesnt have a single tangible "true" self entirely on the inside and a single tangible "fake" self entirely on the outside, its NOT completely black and white! PEOPLE arent completely black and white!

youre forgetting that me saying those guys (the kokomins and all those gross ew men) dont love her because they dont know and see her was accompanied by a picture of them literally asking her to continue validating them immediately after she woke up from passing out 😭 they quite literally dont love or care about her, not even about her image, they just like the idea of her image and want her to make them feel good. the whole "nobody sees and knows and loves her" doesnt apply in the same way to yumehara and their other friends, they may not truly see her with the same depth that saiki does but that doesnt mean their care for her is fake, because they DONT care more about her image than just her and being in her company even if they do still see the parts of her that ARE fake.

you cant just take the idea that they fake a lot of themselves around others and morph that into "every single thing people see of them is fake and every single thing they dont see is an accurate representation of their true selves", it just doesnt work like that 😭 regardless of saikis power and silliness and sweetness and competitiveness, hes still a quiet guy with a gloomy face. and regardless of teruhashis cuntiness (lol) and competitiveness and obsessiveness and silliness, shes still a sweet girl who enjoys making people happy. they can be BOTH and thats okay!

this misunderstanding is like youre hearing someones thoughts and thinking "oh what a blunt person" like well... no because not everything in your head defines your personality or is something youd ever want or need to say aloud. everyone thinks crazy things, had wrong initial impressions, etc, do you see my point?? am i getting this across properly??? saiki still enjoys sitting in his house and doing nothing but eating coffee jelly and playing video games and teruhashi still enjoys when she makes people happy, those things arent fake just because they contribute to their fake personas... saiki also would not have been singing and doing standup or whatever the hell people are convinced he wouldve been doing at the mixer with someone hes "more comfortable" with, he doesnt do that shit around anyone 😭 not around his family and not around the psychickers, so im not sure where people got the idea that her thinking he would sit there and do nothing was her not understanding him or that the way he was making the guys act was how he truly wants to act 😭 he can sing and crack jokes but he never has around anyone so we dont know if thats what he wants to do, i dont even remember him making jokes aloud to the psychickers other than being a little sassy ☠️ the most i remember is him making short silly jokes to tease his dad or toritsuka... you guys just assume that hes the type of guy to stand up and sing and yell and make everyone roll over laughing because idk... maybe you cant stand the idea that your fav might not be a sexy loud confident alpha male and might actually be a little guy who loves video games and watching people and being a little brat on occasion ☠️

i feel like this take is just you guys taking both their insecurities SUPER seriously, because what else could be making you think that ANYONE who doesnt know about his powers doesnt truly love or care for saiki??

anyway... it clearly just doesnt matter to her how he acts because she just loves him and enjoys his company no matter what. thats love.

#terusai haters stay delusional #not you anons you were pretty polite im just using this as an opportunity to talk about a lot of stuff #thank you for the asks #im just assuming you both got this from a certain highly delusional source #ive said this before but the most 'true' that we see saiki in my opinion was the horse race episode #the way he is with akechi encompasses a lot of the true elements of himself #and guess what??? its extremely similar to him when he was playing video games with kaido kuboyasu and nendo #that to me is what you get when you simply take away most of the faked parts of saiki. the person he is around others doesnt just go away.#theres just more to it is all #sorry this post is so long im fucking crazy #saiki k #tdlosk #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo #teruhashi kokomi #terusai #saiteru #meows post #meownalysis #<- sorta

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netegf · 2 years ago

Text

Hate It When You Leave

pairing: f!reader x rafe cameron

plot: you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. he's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want... including him.

warnings: 18+, best friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and past drug use, non-graphic references to violence, some angst & jealousy, fluff and smut (public sex, teasing, oral female receiving)

word count: 6.5 k

There are parts about wearing your heart on your sleeve that no one ever talks about.

For instance, that it's hard to fix your face when the threads keeping that heart together feel like they're getting tugged, cut, and re-bunched into an ugly knot.

The water bottle you're holding hardly has any life left. Even Kelce comments as much when he rounds his kitchen island, limbs swinging and loose thanks to the red Solo cup in his hand. He takes one look at the tight smile on your lips and tilts his head to the side, fingers twitching upward to your chin as he turns your head to face him.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asks, voice a little slurred, but thick with concern.

That was Kelce. Polarizingly good at getting to what someone was hiding underneath.

But appearances went a long way for him. And he was so agreeable, it made him easy to lie to. Especially when he and Topper had practically begged you to come to this party, his first one since graduating college. Everyone would be there, he'd said.

And he was right, they were.

"Nothing, Kels, it's just my stomach being a little funny." You tell him with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. You gaze at him warmly and quirk a brow, smiling genuinely. "How do you always know?"

"We've known each other our whole lives!" He barks in a laugh. "There's nothing I don't know about you."

You feel your heart squeeze again, like there's a too-tight belt around it. But you humour him with a sweet giggle and convinced nod, and it's all Kelce needs before he's walking away to mingle with another.

How shocked he'd be to know that there was something you were hiding.

You keep the water bottle you're holding close to your body as if it would fall straight out of your hands otherwise. When you watch the brunette seated next to Rafe on the couch squeeze his bicep again, you think it might just fall anyway.

Some things don't change.

The sun goes up and down. The moon makes a nightly appearance. Kelce never dresses for the weather. Topper claims everyone else is cheating when he loses.

You love Rafe Cameron.

"Fucking sucks, doesn't it?" A voice rings next to you.

You slowly turn your head from where you're sitting on the kitchen island to see a familiar face lounging on one of the high-chairs.

Topper, apparently, had always had an inkling.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Top." You grumble, casting your eyes away from the blonde protagonist of most of your dreams. Some of your nightmares, too.

You watch as Topper rolls his eyes without so much as glancing at you, a small scoff escaping his lips. He takes a hearty sip from his cup of brown liquid. Tracking his eye-line, you're unsurprised to find that he's staring wistfully at the very same blonde's sister.

Sarah Cameron is dancing in the corner of the room with John B., her boyfriend.

A Pogue at a Kook party... the thought still makes you skeptical.

Not because you didn't like John B., or more accurately, like him for Sarah. But because a few short years ago, all this seemed entirely impossible.

Nonetheless, Sarah was important to all of you.

And, like she'd said, Rafe listened to you better than he did anyone else.

When you explained to him how smitten his sister was with the boy, and considering how their relationship had endured far past those murmurings of 'young love' to, what was at this point, years together, he'd begun to understand that John B. wasn't going anywhere.

Much to Topper's devastation.

He promised he was over her, and he dated like it, too. But there were those moments where he had a few drinks in him and it made you think otherwise.

"Oh, okay. My fault." Topper replies sarcastically, downing what's left in his cup and finally turning away from the couple he's burning holes through. "I thought we were being honest."

"I am being honest."

He glances at you sharply.

"Uh huh. Hey, don't freak out, but, your nose is like, growing really long. Never seen anything like it before. It's like in that movie! What's it called, again? Puppet boy? No, that can't be right..."

"Very funny, Topper." You say dryly, but the hint of a smile on your lips sells you out and he chuckles next to you.

"I was thinking Pinocchio." He fake recalls, nudging your elbow.

This time, you laugh with your chest, and when you lift your head up to take it all in again, your eyes meet familiar blue ones from across Kelce's living room.

By now, you know how to mediate the warmth that blooms at the base of your spine and consumes you completely.

There's a comfortable silence between the two of you before Topper starts speaking again.

"You know he would do anything for you, right?"

You chew on your bottom lip, still holding eye contact with Rafe who gives you a crooked smile. The girl next to him leans in to whisper something in his ear. He keeps looking at you.

"Yeah, I know." You mumble half-heartedly. "I just feel like I might need to cut my losses at this point."

Topper frowns for a moment, then stands up from his seat.

"Well, you suit yourself." He pinches your cheek affectionately. "Because I, for one, want to crash and burn."

You snort at Topper's words and just as quickly watch him round the kitchen counter to grab another drink.

Preoccupied with the way he extends that gesture to you, fixing some gross concoction of different sodas for you to sip on, a shiver rolls over your skin when it feels like Rafe's smouldering eyes are still lighting a fire on your face.

Aron Andersen is a douche, but he means well.

At least, that's the excuse you aways placate Rafe with when Aron inevitably runs his mouth, the blonde's fists tightening nearly every time in conjunction.

Typically, you opt for the pacifist approach because blood is a bitch to clean, Rafe whines when you clean him up with saline, and frankly, Aron isn't worth it.

But tonight, he seems to enjoy testing your threshold for patience like no one else before him.

You suppose he's not entirely to blame. Kelce makes his drinks strong, and half of Figure 8 is sucking up all the oxygen in the room.

Maybe that was why Rafe had almost swung on John B. only a few minutes prior, claiming the younger man was feeding his sister lies about him. Perhaps it was just one of those nights.

Still, you sigh when Aron drunkenly makes his way over to your new spot in the backyard, and press your lips tight together when he shoves a beer in your direction.

"I'm not drinking tonight, Aron." You tell him plainly.

Aron haphazardly plops down into the lounge chair next to you with his glossy, red eyes narrowing.

He grudgingly pulls the beer back from you and takes a sip that pools around the sides of his mouth, then drains down his throat slow and loud.

"That sucks. You're more fun when you do." He scoffs.

Your mouth falls open as the words leave his lips, head spinning to meet his annoyed gaze. The faraway look in his eyes makes you gulp.

In no particular mood to be berated, you have half a mind to scoff back and get up to leave. But there's something about the way he speaks completely unadulterated that keeps your body locked in place.

Like you're dying to know what someone really thinks of you.

"Why not?" He presses, gesturing with his finger accusingly.

"I'm driving."

He continues to stare at you blankly.

"I'm driving." You reiterate, irritation seeping into your tone. "And drunk driving is illegal, Aron. You do know that, right?"

Unintentionally, your eyes flicker to a slightly rowdy and staggering Topper across the room. Aron zeroes in on that and rolls his eyes emphatically.

"Now it makes sense. You're taking your boyfriends home." He pitches the word in a scornful taunt, squinting over your shoulder. "Where is Cameron, anyway?"

You feel your heartbeat rage in your chest, tongue numb and mind in disarray.

"Don't be a dick, Aron. They're my friends." You bristle. But he seems unfazed, lazily quirking an eyebrow.

"Please don't tell me you're that stupid, Y/N. Friends?" He laughs obnoxiously. "I get you're in love with the guy, but you run around for them like a maid. You ask me, the least you should be getting out of it is a good fuck."

Your fingers twitch at your side as you shoot up from your seat, really and truly considering that pouring his beer over his head might be the best option.

Given that Aron routinely takes up two parking spots to park his Range Rover and cheats on his girlfriends, you think it might be a long time coming.

His words hurt for more than one reason. Of course, because he'd sooner die than recognize that you very much could maintain a healthy, platonic, and meaningful relationship with your friends of over a decade.

But also because, when it came to Rafe, he was goading you with a kind of intimacy you knew you'd never be able to access. At least not in the way you wanted.

When a firm hand grips Aron's shoulder strongly and whips his body around, you soon realize you don't have to resort to such a physical display.

While it was true that Rafe's face didn't make him look particularly kind, he'd only been seriously pissed off, to the point that his stomach felt like caving in on itself, a few times. Like in those months right after he'd graduated high school and felt like a big question mark. Every time his dad looked at him disapprovingly, it affirmed that sinking feeling in him, and he learned that he sometimes articulated his sadness in anger.

These days when he's mad, he mulls the feeling over a few times in the interest of scraping for another feeling underneath.

Now, though, all Rafe feels when he meets Aron's arrogance with an intensity of his own, is unbridled rage.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Rafe speaks at a low register that makes your breath quicken. His movements are a little clumsy, blue eyes slightly glazed over, and his dirty blonde hair kisses his forehead that's speckled with sweat. Cheeks dusted red in that way that you love, more prominent when he's inebriated.

His fingers are still pressing harshly into Aron's shoulder, pressure concentrated and steady if the way he winces is any indication. For a second, his eyes flit over to you and the frown on your face, and they begin to soften. But then Aron is sputtering and stealing his attention and he hates him all over again for it.

"My bad, bro." Aron offers lamely, hands jutting upward in surrender. He attempts to step away, but Rafe keeps him locked there.

"Yeah, it's your fucking bad, bro." Rafe sneers.

He roughly shoves Aron backwards as he lets go of him and the man quickly scurries away knowing that if he sticks around, Rafe will probably force him through clenched teeth to apologize to you.

You feel your heart hammering in your chest for a different reason.

Your mind is trapped in a loop, repeating every word you said to Aron over and over again, wondering how incriminating they were, and debating how much exactly Rafe had heard.

And if he had, if he was coherent enough to either dismiss or believe the accusation that you loved him. No, not love, you shudder... in love. Aron had said, verbatim, that you were in love with him.

"I would've handled it." You mumble with your arms crossed over your chest.

Rafe sighs as he turns his body to face you, rubbing a hand over his jaw, now partially relieved of the tension it was holding. He chews on his bottom lip cautiously, like it'll help break the fall of the words bound to spill out of his mouth, a little too unrestrained in his drunk state for his liking.

"I know that." He nods slowly. "I just wanted to help to help you... handle it."

He stumbles a little as he moves toward you and you instinctively wrap an arm behind his torso, holding him against your body as a human splint.

"Plus, I kinda have a reputation going for me. No one's losing their shit if I fight a guy."

"Or two." You say pointedly, thinking about his almost altercation with John B. earlier in the night.

Rafe buries his head into your shoulder, groaning loudly into the bare skin as it heats up and vibrates.

"Fuck, not you, too."

He lifts his head up to continue, and you lug his body towards the living room where you spot Topper talking with Kelce and some others. Without speaking, Topper seems to understand what you're saying, nodding then pointing to himself followed by the stairs.

He'd driven you to Kelce's and you promised to stay sober and drive him back home. But now, it seemed like the plan was going to shift.

Topper would stay the night at Kelce's and take his car back in the morning. You would take Rafe's truck back to his place and walk the rest of the way. You were practically neighbours, anyway.

"If she wants to talk shit about me to her boyfriend, that's one thing. But him, talking shit about me, to her? What's he trying to do? Turn my own sister against me?"

"I get it, Rafe. I really do." You nod, an amused smile on your lips as you tug him out of the front door and towards his truck. "But you promised Sarah you'd be nice, remember?"

"I am being nice." He protests with his hands tapping at his chest. "I didn't even fucking touch him."

You scoff lightly as you strap Rafe in his passenger seat, noting the way his eyes begin to flutter shut. Humming softly, you poke a cold finger at his cheek and watch as they blink open again.

"I'm taking you home, okay?" You murmur gently.

"No!" He objects, large hand circling your wrist. He rubs his forehead with the other one, trying to remember something. "Got a meeting in the morning. Ward is gonna flip if he thinks I've been out all night fucking around."

You look at him uncertainly, waiting for the thing that you don’t want him to say, but know he will.

"Your house? Please?"

There was a time when sleepovers with Rafe were a common practice. Sometimes, after parties like this, with Kelce and Topper.

Other times when you convinced the boys to binge a new movie or TV series, usually ending with at least two of them falling asleep. Rafe made a habit of grumbling his critiques of the things he watched, but always stayed up with you.

For a while, when he hit an especially rough patch with his dad and spent more nights than he would've liked getting high out of his mind.

As much as he'd tried not to pull anybody else into it, he found himself seeking comfort in the warmth of your bed. It helped that you always received him with open arms, even when his early morning phone calls were disorienting and he cried silently into your shirt in the hours after.

Those nights felt so distant, and yet, like you could touch them if you reached out just far enough.

Rafe had girlfriends on and off, and sometimes that version of him felt like a stranger. You felt a strange pity for yourself when you realized that it might've been a good thing. That he was getting better and without falling back on a crutch, even if that crutch was you. Suddenly, him sleeping at your house felt weird and misplaced more than anything else.

"I don't know, Rafe...," you begin to trail off, but the blue desperation in his eyes makes you reconsider. He's still holding tenderly at your wrist. "Fine. But if you puke on my sheets, you're done. Do you hear me?"

Whether or not Rafe hears you is unclear, but you take the delirious smile forming on his lips as a non-verbal affirmation. He huffs out a long breath as if he can feel himself finally relaxing. His eyes start to close again, too, as you start his truck and drive the short way to your house.

"Don't even think about falling asleep on me, Cameron. I am not lugging you up the stairs."

"You're strong." He reasons smoothly, lids still shut as he smirks. "You were about to deck the shit out of Aron Andersen when I found you."

Getting Rafe up to your bedroom goes better than you'd imagined, now with a few years of experience under your belt.

You get him to sit down on your bed, and he fiddles with the items on your nightstand while you rummage through your armoire for an old pair of his pajamas. He complains when you throw him a pair of sweatpants and a sports t-shirt he used to wear in junior high, claiming that it'd be too tight over his arms and chest.

Plus, he'd added, it was far too hot to be wearing a shirt, anyway.

"I love these."

Changing into sweats of your own, you exit the bathroom to find Rafe sitting up in your bed, part of his bare torso obscured by your white sheets. His attention is fixed on a small group of rings on your bedside table, silver and gold hues reflecting under the dull rays of your lamp.

He slowly picks one up.

"Yeah, I'd hope so." You snort, tentatively slipping into bed next to him and painfully aware of the sorry excuse for space between you. "You got them all for me... kook."

Rafe cracks a sleepy smile, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You wouldn't tell me which one you wanted." He shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world.

He sets the ring back on the table and switches off your lamp, blanketing the room in a stroke of darkness. Rafe lies on his back and you opt to turn to your side, facing the wall.

Looking at his face only a few inches away from yours, when he's about to sleep in your bed, feels like it will be too much.

"Asking for what you want is weird, Rafe. Nobody likes it."

You chew on your bottom lip in the dark.

"I do." He says in a scoff that turns into a yawn. "How else is anyone gonna know? People don't usually stop you and beg to find out."

You swallow roughly. That was true enough, they didn't.

But Rafe did. He always did. You revered him for it.

There's a long silence between you and all that echoes against the wood framing of your bed are the heavy and sometimes irregular sounds of your and Rafe's breathing.

Against your better judgement, you think he might've fallen asleep and almost turn around to check.

"Is it me?" He asks quietly, voice scratchy with exhaustion. "... what you want?"

You feel your shaky breath hitch in your throat.

"Because if it is... you don't have to ask."

His words linger in the air for as long as it takes your wildly beating hard to calm down.

By the time your body regains some feeling, the sound of Rafe's soft snores pierce the oddly crisp air clouding your room, and the choice to unpack what he said right now, or in the morning, is made for you.

A shiver runs down from the nape of your neck to the tips of yours toes.

Rafe is gone by the time you wake up.

The harsh but comforting sound of rain clangs against your roof, and you stretch your limbs to the thought of a cloudy and obscure summer day.

It's better this way, you think. The absence of Rafe's warmth next to you would feel worse if the sun was shining, teasing.

Your fingers play underneath your comforter to locate your phone. Scrolling through your notifications, you frown seeing that none of them are from Rafe.

In his defense, it was only about 9AM now, and he'd probably just had enough time to take a quick shower, get himself the smallest bit presentable, and still barely make it to his meeting with a client.

The used bathroom towel in your hamper and flannel pajama pants hastily thrown on his side of the bed are compelling indicators.

In his defense, he was drunk, and there was no telling if he remembered anything about last night.

Drowsy proclamations of desire and confession, included.

You wrestle with the idea of calling him and letting it all spill out.

Kissing him on your front lawn, in the rain, with dewy blades of grass nipping at your feet. Hands threading through his wet hair and tugging, hungrily, because you're starving and happy, and these are liberties you can afford in imagination.

But you settle on seeing him later tonight, in person. It's your dad's charity after all.

"I just wish you would have told me earlier." Your disappointed words hang in the air for a few moments as you play with the hem of your silky baby blue dress.

Your father had mentioned to you once before that his new business partner had a son about your age, newly graduated from UC Irvine.

He hadn't mentioned, though, that this mystery guy would be attending the charity tonight, and he'd offered you up as his own personal tour guide.

Your father hadn't used the word date explicitly, but that's what it felt like when you were handed an odd-smelling bouquet of flowers, standing awkwardly next to the brunette who you were apparently to keep the company of all night, though he might as well have been a stranger.

Daniel was nice enough.

He complimented your dress and your makeup, smiled and pulled out your chair before you sat down at your assigned table.

But it felt weird accepting praise and chivalry from him when your heart was busy beating erratically at the simple thought that your dress matched Rafe's eyes.

The venue is extravagant like it always is, what with it's elaborate crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and floral center pieces larger than your head.

At your table, you note your and Daniel's name cards labeling your seats. Next to them, are Topper, Kelce, and Rafe's. There's a sixth seat that has no label and you tilt your head to the side thoughtfully, considering that Topper or Kelce must be bringing a date.

"This place is incredible. Your dad is so impressive." Daniel says in awe from the seat next to you. His eyes trail around the room, wide in amazement, reflecting back all the vibrant lights in the brown of his pupils.

You smile weakly at him, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that always seems to take flight despite your attention to detail.

"Yeah, he's really something. Likes to orchestrate a big show. You should see him at the winter ball. Live doves, and everything."

Daniel nods, moving on to say something that starts to sound unintelligible when something else piques your interest. Someone else. Multiple someones, entering the banquet hall.

Craning your neck, you make out Topper and Rafe. And a girl.

No. Topper... and Rafe and a girl. She has her arm tucked around Rafe's as he escorts her in the direction of your table. He's wearing the grey tux you like, the one he wore to Rose's sister's wedding with the ornate thread detailing. His smile makes the two halves of your heart squeeze together.

"Hey, you okay? You're squeezing that wine glass pretty tight there."

Daniel likely means well, eyeing the way your fist clenches around the stem of the glass you've yet to take a sip from. You shoot him an embarrassed smile and release your straining fingers.

An emotional support water bottle sounds like it would be really nice right now.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous... my dad always gives a speech at these things." You explain.

As the trio begins to approach, you realize it's Shelley Thompson gripping Rafe's arm, a sweet girl you knew from the Kook Academy.

Even now, she always waves when you run into her at the Island Club, and she has a swing on the golf course like no other.

She's a good match for Rafe. You hate to admit it, but it's true.

When Daniel speaks again, you can barely hear him.

"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about." Daniel chuckles. "I have a hard time imagining that your dad would be bad at anything..."

Topper, having heard the tail-end of your conversation, plunks himself down in the chair across from yours and rubs his forehead tiredly. You shudder at the way he smiles empathetically at you. Like there's something to be consoled about.

"Hangover?" You ask, shoving the shaky feeling down and shooting him a teasing smirk.

He groans loudly and buries his face in his hands.

"That's the understatement of the year. Feels like I'm getting my skull bashed in." He mutters through the skin, then he peels his head away and grimaces at the screechy music being played. If there was one thing your dad was bad it, it was decent music taste. Topper laughs heartily, shaking his head. "Then again, maybe I am."

The lightheartedness is interrupted for a moment as Rafe and Shelley pull up to the table, taking their seats accordingly. Rafe rakes his eyes over Daniel for a few seconds, but otherwise stays silent and it makes you frown. You look at him, desperately trying to uncover if he remembers any details from last night, but his expression is unreadable.

Shelley, on the other hand, grins at you enthusiastically and starts to chat with you about the time she interned at your dad's company.

You find yourself glancing at Rafe every so often, each time catching him staring blankly ahead or at his lap, and always fidgeting with his fingers.

"Who's this?" He asks suddenly, nodding his head at the man next to you.

"Oh." You swallow. "This is Daniel."

Finding that insufficient, Daniel takes it as an opportunity to formally introduce himself.

"That's me." Daniel waves sheepishly, gently squeezing your shoulder with his other hand. "Y/N's been showing me around. Well, her and her dad. I really love what Mr. Y/L/N's been doing with his company. He does some incredible work out here. It's not often that you see-,"

Topper snickers when he cuts him off.

"Maybe he should've been your date."

Daniel laughs it off, blushing slightly and concealing it in a short cough. But you kick Topper under the table in retaliation, ignoring the way he holds his shin and groans out a soft "Ow!".

After that, Shelley, Topper, and Daniel divulge into conversation, shifting from topic to topic and at some points, sharing boisterous laughs together.

Rafe keeps his lips pressed together and his words concise. While you fiddle with your utensils, you feel his eyes on you, igniting heat under your skin.

He stares at you hard, like he's waiting for you to say something. Begging, even, with the way his forehead tenses and his brow stays quirked.

But you didn't know what to say.

Or maybe you didn't know how to say it. Especially not here. Especially not when he had a date.

Rafe rolls his eyes and chews on the inside of his cheek, standing from the table abruptly, the movement making the cutlery tremble.

"Hey, I have an idea." He says while tugging on Shelley's hand. "Let's dance."

You watch as Shelley squeals with excitement, jumping from her seat to follow Rafe towards the center of the large room where the music is playing.

"Couldn't pay me to get closer to that band." Topper mumbles offhandedly. You're sure he's trying to make it sting less, but some pains don't have a perfect antidote.

Daniel sends you a look, silently asking if you want to join them.

"Maybe later." You reply quietly.

Watching Rafe wrap his arm around Shelley's waist, you feel your heart sink slowly into your stomach.

In the middle of Daniel's rambling and Topper's occasional acknowledging hums, you rise from your seat and stumble into the courtyard for some fresh air.

Surely, your heart would keep sinking if you saw any more, and your heels were too tight to fit anything else.

The courtyard is a beautiful mix of greenery, fairy lights, and concrete statues, but it does little to ease the ache in your chest. You sit on a stone bench and try to control your breathing with your head between your knees.

Though it's turbulent and shallow at best.

"What's wrong?"

You know it's Rafe without looking up. Sighing into the palms of your hand, you slide them down from your face and lift your head up. Surely, your makeup is smudged, and the thought makes you more miserable.

"Nothing." You say more sharply than you intended. "Nothing's wrong. Just go away, Rafe."

He looks at you completely scandalized.

"Are you... mad at me?"

You let out a deep breathe, averting your gaze to the ground as you collect yourself. "No, I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"

Rafe scoffs, entirely unconvinced. He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Well, fuck, if this is 'not mad', then I don't want to see what mad looks like."

"Can you just drop it? Please, Rafe? Drop it?" You beg, sniffling slightly as you stand. You hadn't noticed when your cheeks started to get wet. Likely too much in denial.

Despite the way it's honoured you in the past, crying was offering no release at this point. It's not like any of this was Rafe's fault. Even if he had gotten your hopes up last night, he wasn't obligated to act on drunken pillow talk. Maybe he hadn't meant it in the first place and was only trying to make you feel better.

"You won't talk to me." He says sadly.

You bite down on every explanation you want to give him. Chest pain heavy and unrelenting.

"Just... go back to Shelley, Rafe. She's probably waiting for you."

Rafe looks puzzled when the words fall weakly out of your mouth.

Then, he nods, like something finally clicks for him. He meets your eyes with fervor as he presses his lips together.

"So, this is about Shelley?" He asks.

Your head hangs and silence intensifies between you. It speaks for itself.

"The same Shelley that's been fucking Kelce on and off for the past two years?"

He watches your mouth fall open and eyebrows furrow, continuing as you stare at him.

"Kelce promised to take her out on a real date, but then he got caught up at work... asked me to keep Shelley company until he showed up. We didn't come here together, together, Y/N. I thought you knew that."

Your mind buzzes as he speaks, bottom lip wedged under your teeth.

So, he wasn't here with Shelley. And he probably did remember both what he heard and said last night if he could recognize that you were jealous.

Jealous. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut. The feeling was always two-fold. A person would feel jealous, then humiliated that they had. You don't know which one is worse.

You peak an eye open, chewing through your words. "Why couldn't Topper do it?"

"Have you met Topper?"

That was a good point.

Still reeling from the new information, you look down at your lap pensively.

"But you did." Rafe begins after a few beats of silence. When you frown in confusion, he clarifies. "... come here with someone."

You crane your neck up to look at him. There's something you can't place in his eyes, but it's cloudy and all-consuming. His hair is a mess from the way he's been ruffling through it, and his cheeks are flushed and tight.

"What, Daniel? Are you kidding me? I only brought him because my dad ask-," you begin to explain, but Rafe cuts you off.

"I don’t care why he thinks he can touch you. I just want him to stop.”

Despite the small gust of wind that blows past you both, you feel a warmth at the base of your neck... in the palms of your hands. Maybe it was the beams of light overhead, illuminating your bodies amidst the greenery.

Or, maybe it was just Rafe's words.

The intensity of his gaze. The way he steps towards you as he speaks them, warm hand eventually reaching out to graze over your cheek in a way that makes you gasp in a mixture of shock and excitement.

For a moment, you think about yourself and the many soul-crushing nights spent watching Rafe talk to and touch and kiss other people, the overlapping visuals making you queasy.

"I know the feeling." You say quietly, hot breath fanning over his face.

Rafe frowns a little, soaking up the meaning of your words. He nudges his face closer to yours, until your noses are touching and his lips just barely graze over the pair he desperately wants to taste. He draws back suddenly, suspending all the air in your lungs.

He eyes you cautiously, challenging silently as he licks his lips.

"Not gonna do anything unless you ask."

You nearly cry out in response. "Rafe, please. I... I want you." Ignoring the way your desperation makes your skin feel tingly and your head spin, you shut your eyes tightly, realizing that only really skimmed the surface. You try again, gulping. "I've always wanted you."

"Fuck." He breathes out, eyes fluttering shut. "Never stop saying that."

Stifling the sound of another whine from your lips, Rafe kisses you feverishly.

He moves his soft lips in tandem with yours, swallowing each of your breathy moans. One of his hands traces over the swell of your jaw while the other stretches tenderly around your throat. "Know what I wanted to do when I saw you sitting there next to him?"

You nearly scream in protest when Rafe pulls his lips off yours, but fall silent when he trails kisses down from your jaw to your neck and collarbones, sloppily sucking the skin then laving his tongue over the afflicted areas. Unsatisfied until your pushing his head away from the sensitivity.

"Wanted to knock his fucking teeth out." He murmurs with his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving searing kisses. "But I don't do that shit anymore. So I'll ruin his night a different way."

Rafe moves your body with his until the backs of your knees hit the concrete bench. Your mouth falls open as he sits you down on it, kneeling in front of you. He presses a ticklish kiss to your knee and his bright blue eyes peer up at you through his lashes. When you nod, he parts your thighs and pulls your panties down in a single unbroken movement, committing every second to memory.

He stares longer than he should, groaning at the way your wetness collects on his finger when he traces a finger over your slit, spreading you apart.

"Can't believe," he moans into your mound, running the flat of his tongue over your center again and again. "... you kept me from this pussy for so long."

You throw your head back at the sensation, finding nothing but air and Rafe to support you as pulls you closer to his mouth.

"That," you say in a broken moan at the feeling of Rafe's tongue inside you. "That's your fault, remember? I was always here — shit! Waiting for you.”

Rafe hums against your pussy at that, neither agreeing or disagreeing. His nose nudges your clit as he tastes you greedily. You tug at his hair to dissipate some of the energy building inside your core, but it only makes Rafe work harder.

"Didn't think I deserved you." He admits, pink lips mesmerizing and wet with your slick and his spit. Rafe takes your clit into his mouth and sucks obscenely, the slurping sound sending a flash of heat through you. "Doesn't matter now. I'm good at making up for lost time..."

Your thighs clamp around Rafe's head as he fucks you with his tongue. It's only now, as gasps and high-pitched sounds fall wantonly from your lips that you come to the reality that you're letting Rafe eat you out in the courtyard, and anybody from the party could come here and find you. Still, you moan less controlled than you would have hoped when he suckles at your clit again, drinking at your sopping pussy.

"Hey, have some common decency, huh? There's some very nice people in there trying to enjoy a party."

Rafe smirks when you pull at his hair even harder, mostly at the thought that you think it could be reprimanding when he likes it so much. His teasing does more to turn you on than you'd care to admit and he can tell with the way you gush around him.

"One of em's your date." He adds, laughing slightly as he curls his tongue inside you. Entranced at the way it makes you whimper and writhe like putty under him. He starts rubbing your clit with his thumb at the same time, chasing the crest of your orgasm. "C'mon, baby. Give it to me. Come all over my tongue."

Your release makes your back rise off of the slab of cement you're seated on, thighs slotted over Rafe's shoulders as he licks you through your climax.

The pleasure is insurmountable, your mouth falling open and your eyes screwing shut as that familiar feeling completely overwhelms your senses, the burn of your elbows against the cement keeping you anchored to the ground.

Rafe smiles when you pull him by the belt of his dress pants to capture his mouth in a long and sweet kiss. It helps clean up the residual wetness.

By the time Kelce makes it your father's charity event, he sighs tiredly into the crown of Shelley's head, pressing a wet kiss there in greeting. On his way in, he got trapped in a conversation with your father and some guy he'd never seen before named Daniel who was more inclined to kiss your dad's ass than he was to breathe.

Finally taking his seat next to a very drunk Topper, he squints his eyes at the sight before him. You and Rafe, unable to keep your hands off each other, giggling at nothing in particular. And when not giggling, kissing.

"Are you seeing this shit?" Kelce asks Topper, gesturing towards his two closest friends shoving their tongues down each other's throats. Shamelessly, at that.

"Dude." Topper groans, sighing like this was no surprise to him. "Where the fuck have you been?"

a/n: thank you for reading! comments/reblogs appreciated!!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #rafe x reader #i love writing completely ridiculous and unhinged side characters #topper too i always make him so weird LMAO #this is a lil rough around the edges but !! whatevrrr

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dunmeshistash · 10 months ago

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Hiii sorry for asking since I know you don't care much for Toshiro, but I'm trying to find out if his dad was of any specified nobility, or if it was just implied? I figured if you, the archivist of the DM manga didn't know then it's probably safe to dream up a noncanon answer 🤔 Thanks for your time!

I might be ambivalent about Toshiro but I love the retainers so I end up reading a lot about him LOL

From what I understand they're a ninja clan that serves a local lord

So while not nobility themselves they're from an important family

Some other mentions about it

Ninjas and espionage is constantly mentioned even tho right now Toshiro is more of a Samurai? Did Samurais also do espionage?

Edit: Adding what Heattth said in the replies

heattth The most famous ninja, Hattori Hanzo, was a samurai. So, yeah, some samurais did in fact do espionage or otherwise lead ninjas. My understanding is that the whole concept of "ninja clan" is entirely fictícios. What did exist was samurai clans with a fame for employing/training good people with those skills. (In fact, most of the image of a 'ninja' was invented whole cloth for literature or theater.) Of course, Dungeon Meshi is not trying to be historically accurate, so it uses much of pop ninja. But the idea of ninjas being mostly part of a samurai household is closer than much pop history.

#Ask #anonymous #toshiro nakamoto #nakamoto family #Shuro #character ask #lore ask

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ideas-on-paper · 10 months ago

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On Carlo and Romeo's relationship & homosexuality in Victorian schools

In my quest to find out more about Carlo and Romeo's lives at Monad Charity House, I have once again resorted to my tried and tested method of historical research, this time with a primary focus on Victorian boarding schools.

Along the way, I stumbled upon Lord Alfred Douglas, aka "Bosie" Douglas, the lover of Oscar Wilde. As people familiar with them may know, their gay romance caused quite a stir in 1895 due to the (in)famous trials of Wilde for “gross indecency”, the tragic result of which was that the latter was convicted to two years of hard labor that ruined his health.

Both already had their fair share of gay affairs beforehand though - Bosie specifically was very popular among his peers during his time at Oxford University, being excellent at sports, artistically gifted and incredibly handsome, so it's not too surprising he hooked up with some of his fellow students. What absolutely had me rolling on the floor was this statement, however (quoted from this page):

"[...] we argue that the English public schools in the last part of the nineteenth century tolerated, if they did not actually encourage the development of strong homoerotic friendships between students."

Apparently, homosexuality in boarding schools was so common people made off-hand jokes about it. In the novel Rites of Passage by William Golding, the protagonist finds a fellow traveler engaged in oral sex with a sailor, thinking of it as "that silly schoolboy prank". Admittedly, Golding wrote his novel in the 20th century, so we don’t know for sure if the 19th-century attitudes portrayed in it are accurate, but this might imply that sexual interaction between schoolboys was fairly common.

In the first edition of Tom Brown's School Days by Thomas Hughes, published in 1857, there was even a passage of the protagonist insulting two boys who were clearly in a sexual relationship with senior boys, with the author commenting that "everyone who studied at Rugby would understand why this passage was necessary". (Hughes himself was Christian and condemned homosexual relationships; the concerning passage was cut out in later versions).

This does not mean, however, that all the boys attending boarding schools were gay - rather, because boarding schools were restricted by gender, they had their first sexual experiences in this male-only environment. Many of them would try the exact same thing out with a girl later and find they enjoyed it much more. However, there were also those who never felt any desire to try it out with a girl - and given how close Carlo and Romeo were, I would honestly be more surprised if there wasn’t anything romantic going on between them.

I mean, it’s not like the entire LoP community isn’t already shipping Carlo and Romeo, but in case there was ever any doubt about it, take it from me: I’m positive these boys were gay.

And in case anyone feels like pointing out that “well, actually, the setting of Lies of P is based on France”: Homosexuality was already decriminalized in France as early as 1791 by the National Constituent Assembly, making France the first Western European country to do so - or rather, the penal code drafted with the intention to only punish "real crimes" made no mention of homosexual acts in private. Still, it was a major step for gay rights.

#lies of p #lies of p carlo #lies of p romeo #carlo x romeo #carmeo #they are gay your honor #gay history #victorian england #also still got this out during Pride Month yay!

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tsarisfanfiction · 15 days ago

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Rend the Heavens

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Angst Characters: Hades, Apollo, Zeus The cycle continues, and masks break. @toapril-official TOApril day 12 - Eyes That Glow Gold. This took a few different forms before I got something sorted for it. If it looks like it might be a sequel to another of my fics... well maybe it is.

There was always something telling about a god’s eyes. Hades did not know if he was more aware of it because of the infrequency with which he saw most god’s eyes, or if all the gods saw it and chose not to comment on it, but whenever he interacted with other gods, it was the easiest way to read their mood.

Godly eyes were not like mortal eyes. Godly eyes had depth; Hades had heard that mortals sometimes called them the windows to the soul, but it was hardly an accurate description. A murky, foggy and cracked window, if one was feeling generous. For gods, it was closer to a portal to their essence, a peak into the true thoughts and emotions if one knew what they were looking for.

All gods had the art of masking down to some degree, of course. Hades was certain that he did. He’d seen his brothers shutter more and more as the millennia passed, some emotions disappearing from sight entirely, and he was certain it wasn’t because they no longer felt those emotions.

Those shutters were falling, crumbling to pieces and burning up in flames. For all of them.

Poseidon was a tempest, white-tipped foam roiling over the darkest green seas. Demeter was a contradiction, scorching heats and biting blizzards. Hera was smooth and hardened, pale alabaster and breaking eternities. Hestia was a wildfire, consuming all in her path.

There was the bloodbath, the kaleidoscope of impossible colours. The blazing sun and the blinding moon. An inferno of iron, battle-steel polished until it gleamed. A maelstrom of feathers, wine-dark insanity.

Battlelines were drawn, carved out in the earth, in the skies and the seas. Alliances forged and changed and broke, until it wasn’t just their eyes but their essences on full display, stripped bare of all pretence until all that was left was raw nature, and the ugliness of truth.

It was war the way Hades had never experienced it before, fluid and viscous and vicious, no-one in the right and no-one in the wrong, either. The next part of the inevitable cycle, the disposition of a king as reign turned to tyranny.

As tyranny reached the point it could be tolerated no more, as action was forced upon them all whether they liked it or not.

Hades had deposed his own father. He remembered his brother, young and confident and born to rule. Perhaps, somewhere inside his own essence, he had always known this day would come, although he did not think he had expected to be fighting on this side.

Kronos’ brothers had stood with Kronos.

Zeus stood without his.

That was not to say Zeus was without allies; the war would not be so messy if he was alone against the might of Olympus. Of his brothers, though, he had no allies. Poseidon had elected to remain neutral, albeit the aggressive neutral that retaliated against any threat or damage to his beloved oceans, no matter who they were.

Hades, well.

Hades had chosen his side some time ago, before he had even realised it. He still could not pinpoint the moment when Apollo had gained his support, but he knew it had been before Apollo had realised he would need it.

The acknowledgement, the acceptance, of the then rapidly approaching conflict had certainly struck Hades first, but it had not been his place to instigate. He would never have been able to instigate it with any success. His allies within Olympus were few.

Apollo had more, and more had appeared as lies and masks were stripped away and the reality of the situation, the understanding of what had to happen, why it had to happen, spread. Hades had done little, on that front. The Underworld stood with Olympus, with Apollo, against tyranny, and that was the extent of his reach.

That had led them to this, to now and a war that would end an era, however it fell.

Zeus’ eyes, his bared essence, was a hurricane. Lightning flashed, colours swirled across the spectrum, heavy green emphasising danger and sharp cracks of white threatening the same. Everything about the storm that whirled where his brother was could only be described as dangerous and desperate.

Gold wasn’t a colour normally associated with his brother. Zeus was always blues and greys and whites, sometimes greens. Apollo was golds, oranges, yellows, sometimes blues. Warm flames, hot flames, scorching, destroying flames.

Apollo burnt so brightly that Hades could see him in Zeus’ eyes, could see the gold reflecting in them, the sun eclipsing the sky.

Zeus was going to lose. He was powerful, almost frighteningly so despite his decline the last few centuries, but it wasn’t enough. Not now the gold had invaded his eyes, a sign of weakness amongst the aggression. Zeus knew he was going to lose, and that would be his defeat.

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colleybri · 8 months ago

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The Andor finale connects Kerri (Cassian’s long lost sister), Bix and Maarva

I’ve only just noticed the visual parallels in episodes 1 and 12 between young Kassa with his sister Kerri and adult Cassian rescuing Bix.

Cassian and Bix head for Zorby’s ship yard where Brasso and the others are waiting to escape the Ferrix riot

Adria Arjona apparently asked Gilroy if her character could be made like a child as a result of her trauma (not just the torture but the huge impact of Timm’s betrayal). “I really wanted to turn her into this child… you meet her as this woman that is so empowered and has everything under control, who takes care of Cassian. And then towards the end she cannot even look after herself.” (https://www.starwars.com/news/adria-arjona-andor-interview)

Young Kassa hugs his little sister to comfort her from the noise of the exploding ship as it goes down. She leans against him and looks up for reassurance to the big brother who is really her entire remaining world.

Later he will run off to have an adventure with the big kids and never comes back, despite his promise to her at the end of the episode. (It’s in Kenari, but it’s hard to imagine it being anything other than his trademark “I’m coming back!”)

“No ! They’ll get angry!” Poor Bix. Cassian is horrified to see her reduced to a helpless child. He owes her so much.

In the finale, Bix is so infantilised by her experience that she has to be gently coaxed into being rescued at all as she’s so afraid of the Imperials. But she eventually puts her trust in Cassian and the roles of the sibling-like aspect of their long and close relationship are reversed at last - where previously she was a big sister to him he now protects and supports her as they make their way through the explosions and chaos - much in the way he did with Kerri all those years ago.

What a heartbreaking smile… “Maarva was here” 🥹

Kerri, Bix… and in between, Maarva. Just before he gets the hug and comforting words from Brasso, Cassian lets all his pent-up agony out:

“I wanted her to leave with me… I came to get her… I couldn’t get back… but the last time I saw her, we argued… I told her I was coming back! I never should have left that morning!”

This ‘fear of being someone who leaves people behind’ as Tony Gilroy puts it is the single most profound character trait of Cassian Andor and it carries right through into Rogue One (or more accurately, Gilroy takes the quality from the film and makes it part of the origin story). Guilt and regret about Kerri lies behind so much of Season 1 Cassian’s arc and undoubtedly has a hand in his radicalisation. “Everyone has their own rebellion” - and this particular part of it is personal. We saw it in the Aldhani and Narkina 5 arcs too, as Cassian’s circle of people he cares about expands. The coming together of this theme in the finale is another part of why it’s so emotionally hard-hitting. “We can’t just leave her there,” he says of Bix - and Brasso incredulously says “Are you going to take on a full garrison?”

He doesn’t answer but the look says it all. For Cassian, not “trying” is no longer an option.

It’s a hugely admirable heroic quality. But I do fear it might come back to bite him in some way. Yet as Gilroy understands so well: bravery and vulnerability often go hand in hand.

#andor #cassian andor #star wars andor #bix caleen #kerri #maarva andor #adria arjona #analysis #rix road #andor s1 #rogue one #tony gilroy

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crazy-pages · 11 months ago

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First step to being a rationalist.

Acknowledge it might not work.

Let me take a step back for a moment. The single most important principle of science, in my opinion, is acknowledging the possibility of failure, that something might be beyond you. People often think of science as how you discover the truth, but I think it is more accurately and importantly described by how it lets us determine what we do not know.

For most of human history, we not only did not know what the sun was made out of, the question was fundamentally beyond our grasp. There was nothing any amount of scientific principle could do that would let you know what the sun was for most of human history. To be a scientist about it, to apply the scientific method to understanding the sun, is not just being able to know nuclear physics. You have to teach yourself to know when to say 'I don't know'.

For most of human history the sun has been fundamentally beyond our capacity to understand. And yet it is one of the most enduring and common subjects of false explanations. To internalize the scientific method, truly in a way that changes your thinking relative to what it was before you learned it, you have to become someone who, if you were living in those times, would be able to say "I don't know" even when everyone around you has an answer.

So let's talk about rationalism.

Rationalism is not just the idea that we can understand human biases. It's not just the idea that we can be more thoughtful or knowledgeable people by understanding these biases. No, rationalism is specifically the idea that by learning enough about human biases and by leaning on hard enough on data, we can reliably make correct and optimal moral choices. It is the belief that by performing enough rationalist study and training, and applying enough information science to a problem, one can proceed on the assumption they have come to the correct conclusion.

And those are very different things. It is the difference between saying "by understanding wood better, we can construct better foot bridges" and "by understanding wood better, we can span the San Francisco Bay with it".

Because here's the thing, better is not the same thing as reliable. Even if we grant the assumption that learning about biases makes one less likely to fall prey to them, and that is an assumption, an 80% chance of making mistake is also less than a 90% chance of making a mistake. It's valuable, that's a good thing, but it is not sufficient to say "hey so I used this method to come to my conclusions, therefore I'm sure I didn't make a mistake".

If you want to be a rationalist, the first rational principle you need to apply is that of the scientific principle looking at the sun. You need to be able to say "There may be nothing I can do, with the resources I have access to, to be sure I am actually free of bias and mistakes in logic. This may be fully beyond me, for the entire span of my life." And not just in the sense that nobody is perfect, but in the very real sense that you cannot depend on the train of logic in your own head to lead you to a correct place.

And the reason this is important is for the same reason it's important in science. The moment that you presume something is in fact knowable in science, it just becomes a tool of accrediting whatever conclusion you come to. It stops being an actual tool of discovery and becomes a rubber stamp of validation. It becomes something which makes you feel better about the conclusion you came to, not something which actually helps you in any way.

The moment you say to yourself, "because I am a rationalist, I am confident enough in A, B, and C to take actions X, Y, and Z" you've failed to be a rationalist. (Unless you provide a double blind study of a large well-controlled population, one of which was given rationalist training and the other which wasn't, upon the end of which it was determined that the rationalist trained population did indeed perform to an improved standard meeting a high minimum on certain metrics (upon which you must limit your assumption of rationalist improvement to those specific metrics). And then this study has been in the corpus of literature long enough to be peer-reviewed and criticized and had duplicate research and further investigation and a good long while for the scientific community to dissect it. A thing which has definitely not happened yet.)

The most important thing you can learn from rationalism is not an understanding of a specific set of biases. It's not the particular ways human cognition is messed up and it's not any type of information science. It is the fact that humans are flawed.

The most important thing you can learn from rationalism is humility, not hubris.

To do otherwise is for rationalism to just become another tool of confirmation bias, something making you think you are more correct than you actually are.

The humility you have to learn from rationalism is that you must plan and behave on the assumption that no matter how rationalist you think you are, you might still be behaving in biased ways. That there might be no way to fix this. And so all you can do try to behave in ways where even if you're wrong, you're going to minimize the harm you do to others.

This is where futurist philosophies derived from rationalism, the idea that the unimaginable number of humans in the future are so much more than the ones now that it justifies worker exploitation and present harms to make the far future better, falls apart. This is where AI doomerism/utopianism, the idea that general AI is definitely the biggest threat and potential boon facing humanity so we have to put all of our resources into safe AI research at the expense of everything else, falls apart. This is where effective altruism, the idea that we can quantify the outcomes of charity thoroughly enough that it makes sense to hand over direction of all charity to a small group of experts, falls apart.

Because the answer to "what if you're wrong about these philosophies?" is that a lot of people get very hurt. We are flawed. Fundamentally so, and I don't know that anyone has ever proved a way we can get around this. The only thing I know that we can do about this, is to try to behave in ways that minimize harms while trying to make the world better, rather than trying to maximize a hail mary to find the holy grail.

To which I can already hear the rationalists saying that this might not be enough to save the world, that anything but convulsive directed effort focused on is already doomed, so we have to pick one of them.

To which I say. First off, how are you sure of that? How is this a thing that you know for certain?

But more importantly. Yeah. You're right. There's no way of knowing for sure what course of action will make the world a better place. There's no way of knowing that anything short of futurists sacrificing the workers of the present to build a brighter future will be enough.

But if you are actually a rationalist, well. That is what you have to live with. You've got to be the scientist looking up at the sun and saying, "I don't know."

And then you should go and do things to make the world better without being sure of your prognostication of the future.

#rationalism #ethics #philosophy #futurism

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animentality · 1 year ago

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Wishing Gortash hadn’t massacred a room full of people couldn’t be me because the environmental storytelling of it is SO GOOD. You leave the great big coronation hall packed and lively, everyone cheering for their new archduke. You get back out into the city, track down Orin, get your hands on her netherstone. You return to the coronation hall, the room loads in, and wham. The entire hall strewn with blood and corpses. Dead silent. Cultists in full Banite regalia milling around openly, unconcerned. You realise that not a single one of those nobles left the hall after the coronation, after you did, because every single one is lying slaughtered where they were. And it is very very obvious that this is the work of the new archduke who you allied yourself with. For me, it was a moment of oh god, this guy is serious.

And like. You can find TONS and tons and tons of damning evidence for how horrible and corrupt and evil Gortash is all over the city, there is not a single corner of it untouched by him in some way. You have the families of an enslaved labour force imprisoned and tortured. You have that same enslaved labour force dressed up in shock collars! You have a scheme to distribute teddy bears stuffed with explosives, targeting refugee children, just for the sake of instilling more and more fear in the public. And you do get to understand pretty well that these things are all being done not by someone who just delights in violence and chaos the way Orin does, but as the utterly dispassionate, pragmatic ventures of a guy who genuinely does not see people as people (and rather as objects, tools, currency - shapes that might walk and talk but ultimately mean nothing).

But for me personally, even on top of ALL of that, no display of Gortash’s villainy made more of an impact than walking into that room as his ally.

Not because I give a shit about any of the actual nobles themselves, or think it’s technically worse than say giving explosive toys to refugee children, etc. But the slaughter of the patriars has such an impact for me because it’s not talked about. You can’t find a million clues about it or stop it from happening. Talk to any of the Banite guards and they simply tell you point blank what happened. It’s not abstract. It’s not preventable. It happens, and it’s a cold whack in the face for the unwitting player who may have earnestly allied with him. It’s the game saying “this is your ally, by the way, in case you weren’t aware. Even if you foiled his other little plots - found the undetonated teddy bears, freed the Gondians, etc - don’t think that was enough, because this is who he is.”

(And because we don’t SEE it happen, just the aftermath? You get to wonder. Did Gortash step out before this happened? Or did he stand back and watch? Did he find it messy, or did he smile as he watched his steel watchers rip people in half? Did it make him feel powerful? We can probably guess the answers to these questions.)

Anyway Gortash is SUCH a good character and I love him. And if Durge had all their faculties walking into that room and seeing all the murdered people would have brought a tear to their eye, they’d be so proud of him lol

OOOOOooooh absolutely brutally accurate description of Gortash, and YES.

That is the beauty of Gortash's evil. His pragmatism.

The way he tries to pretend he's different than you and Orin, but you can call him out, and say, you're just as bad as us.

And I would LOVE to know if he was there when he killed the patriars too.

He acts like he's so "above it all." Like he's not a Bhaalspawn, killing for pleasure...but sweetie, you are not any different just because you have a Steel Watcher crush a child rather than dissect one.

The people you try to save when you're at the Steel Watch Foundry? Those poor old people and children and families?

All of them are pretty fucking brutal. The Steel Watch are fucking awful. They're not benign robots. They are cruel and cold and emotionless, and they aren't there to protect, only subjugate.

And they're a lot like Gortash himself.

Frigid, with a black and white understanding of right and wrong, only it's flipped, and submitting to authority is the only "right" and any resistance is "wrong" and needs to be destroyed.

And just to go back to him believing he's so "above" the Chosens of Bhaal, or even everyone in general...even with Karlach, when she's enraged, and hurt, over being sold and enslaved, he says, well it was for your own good, my dear girl, let bygones be bygones - stop lying, Gort!

stop pretending you're so above everyone else, that you're this calm, logical man, whose endeavors are heroic, even noble.

They aren't.

You're getting back at a world that abandoned you.

Your entire life revolves around revenge, sadism, and wanton cruelty.

You are not saving anyone. You are dooming those who made you this way.

And that's why I like him.

He is just so...kickable. And evil.

And disgusting.

And I adore him.

He is built wrong, and I like it.

#enver gortash #its about cycles maaaaan #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

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thechibilitwick · 1 year ago

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As an honorary Shidou apologist, I am breaking my silence. I’ve finally decided to go on a rant on why I don't think Kirisaki Shidou is an organ harvester.

(fair warning I like absolutely suck ass at organizing my thoughts, so if some of this is incoherent or if it seems like i'm repeating myself my bad 😭 I mainly wrote this for fun)

So, I'm aware that this theory is the most popular consensus when it comes to Shidou (and tbh, I think part of it is because a lot of people kinda look over him? Like at least a tiny bit more than the others, considering a lot of people also don’t realize how his main victim was probably his son and not his wife, but I digress) (plus I think all milgram characters are looked over to a certain extent). While I do think parts of it are probably accurate in some way, I don't think he was a full-on organ harvester (as in he actively stole from patients through illegal means. emphasis on actively) and that the theory in and of itself is flimsy at best. He's morally questionable, yes, but it’s more in the sense that he’s a somewhat apathetic guy who lacked understanding on how his own set of morals and values (i.e. pushing for organ donation) could be seen as wrong. So if he were an organ harvester, wouldn’t he be aware that it’s illegal? That’s what confuses me whenever people bring it up. I don't actually doubt that he may have done something illegal for his family's sake, it’s just that I still highly doubt it was something he actively did. And that seems to be what a lot of people think when they refer to the theory. (if i’m wrong please forgive me, i just assume organ harvester shidou = people think he did it as a job)

Anyways, more under the cut for those interested (it's a bit lengthy my apologies)

It then kinda trickles down to how his guilt stems more from the consequences of his actions rather than the actual action of taking organs. The root of his guilt comes from the realization that basically asking families to pull the plug and use their loved ones' organs for donation is a very, very hard decision; one that he kept pressuring for. If he was an illegal organ harvester, and was aware that his actions were in fact illegal, why the hell would he feel so guilty to the point that he’d start having suicidal ideations? That’s the key difference between his profession and his possible criminal activities; one is a burden both emotionally and morally, the other is more or less a literal burden. And based off of Shidou's character, he seems to be much more emotionally affected. That's also why I think a lot of people jump to the conclusion that his guilt stems from his actual actions rather than their effects. (does that make sense oh lord i am going ☝️🤓 so hard rn)

I get that some parts of his MV or lyrics seem to be suggesting that, but also it’s important to note that Shidou has a very strong bias against himself and definitely painted himself in a negative light. I mean, that's why he thinks every single preceding patient before the final incident is a victim to him, why he shows himself staying professional in a professional setting as apathetic (minus the pressuring part), and why he literally equates his job to STEALING. Not only that but, imo, it's also a little too unrealistic and might not actually fit the criteria of Milgram. Milgram is for crimes that are in a morally grey area. So if it really was organ harvesting, is it really in a grey area? (though I guess you could say that doing it for family's sake would be, but that's only for his family. He'd have no reason to do it otherwise). Plus, it'd make more sense and fit the theme of touching upon social issues (i.e. abortion, bullying, societal standards, mental health, etc.) if shidou’s entire dilemma was in regards to (albeit questionably done) organ donation, a complicated ethical topic in Japan.

Throw Down actually gives a pretty good rough idea of Shidou's thoughts towards his crime and his feelings in regards to it. He felt like he was blinded by his own values, and that inadvertently caused him to be unaware of the suffering he caused through his job. It really does shock me that he somehow was able to pull-off getting a forgiven verdict in T1 because he certainly comes off as cold and uncaring in regards to his work.

I think the final bridge in Throw Down kinda summarizes his entire mindset, actually.

Now slowly close your eye, put your regret on display Wishing you for someone else's sake With the same expression no matter who comes I don’t feel scared because I don’t know

Shidou doesn't quite understand the feelings of his patient's families, and therefore he acts remorseful and sympathetic more than he actually feels. Why? Well, because he didn't know. Up until that point, he never understood the weight of his actions, and focused on his role as a doctor. "This is an upsetting subject, yes, but it's for the greater good, right?” A braindead person has little to no chances of living, so why not use this as an opportunity to donate their organs? Moreover, as a doctor I believe it’s typical to be "emotionally detached” (for lack of a better word) since I’d assume becoming emotionally connected with a patient would make things at least a bit messy.

His mindset comes crumbling down though, presumably because he experienced the same or a similar situation. This part remains muddy for me, since we don't know much about what the actual cause for Shidou's guilt is. There are several possibilities, with the most plausible ones being:

he lost his own family member and had to go through with the same decision,

he tried to save a family member using donated organs, but failed, making it seem like everything he has done as a doctor was in vain

(a secret third option would be him making someone he cares about make that decision but it's very unlikely and also requires too much mental gymnastics)

But no matter what exactly he did, it all trickles down to the validity of his morals. After realizing the pain of losing a loved one, the struggle of trying to save them, and the unfortunate failure which left all efforts practically pointless, Shidou would understand the actual weight of his actions and why all those families were so reluctant to let go of their own.

This is even more evident in his T2 voice drama, Asclepius.

"In order to save the life of someone you don't know, please let me kill your family," I told them. It doesn't even take much thinking to realize how cruel that is, but… I didn't realize it until the very end.

This is the gist of Shidou's crime, or at least part of it (considering he says "Well, about halfway" when Es asks if their judgment was right). Again, this tells us that Shidou's guilt comes from the act of the effects of organ donation rather than the literal action. And this also implies that his "murders" did in fact have to do with being in a medical situation, it's just the way he went about it was at the very least morally questionable.

I will also acknowledge that he says he killed for selfish reasons, which most likely relates to trying to save his own family member. Here he could possibly have actually done something illegal such as tampering with patients or illegally taking their organs (latter is a stretch imo). Plus, his distorted T2 voice trailer line is literally "You're in the way, hurry up and die" which would only make sense in the context of waiting for a patient to die. But it could also just be him continuing to pressure for organ donation, but now with his own selfish motives.

Going back to the "halfway" comment, while I personally believe it might have to do with how Shidou views his crime as more than just taking organs, it more likely implies that something else happened that Shidou would consider murder. That being the actual death of his family member. It's implied through Throw Down that he was trying to save someone but failed, which he was responsible for. Then from there it'd make sense to assume that he would feel some form of guilt for the rest of his patients, either for the reason of failing to actually utilize donated organs even with the opportunity of being able to save them, or for just realizing the what it actually feels like to have to give up on your loved one. (does. does that make any sense.)

So yeah, I don’t think he’s an organ harvester due to what’s known regarding his crime, the reasoning for his guilt, and with the way he is as a character. The most I’d personally believe is that he decided to harvest organs for the sake of his loved one, but even that seems like a stretch to me. Thus, that is why I believe Kirisaki Shidou is not an organ harvester.

Anyways I’ve rambled on long enough, thank you for reading if you did and remember to drink water and vote shidou innocent in trial 3 because i will shit my pants if he doesn't get inno

#milgram #shidou kirisaki #kirisaki shidou #milgram analysis #everyone point and laugh at me for writing so much #i am so terrified i said something wrong like if i did then strike me dead #kirisaki shidou DESTROYED MY LIFE #i love the pathetic failure doctor #i swear on my life he'll get 3 innos no matter what #shidou i am begging you do not pull out some bs that'll make you seem less favorable than you already are #chibi's ramblings

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lindentea · 11 months ago

Text

Analysis re: Full Moon and conflict resolution (or not)... spoilers ahead.

The fact that we got an episode showing a healthy, supportive, and-- most importantly-- communicative relationship (Fizz and Ozzie), immediately followed by an episode showing a very unhealthy and very non-communicative relationship (Blitzø and Stolas)... yeahhhh that really stood out to me.

(Sidenote: It absolutely warms my heart that Fizz is so much happier and healthier now!! And he and Blitz have a warm and affectionate friendship again!!! aaaaaaaa!!!)

I'm wondering if Apology Tour will start with Blitz talking to Fizz and/or Moxxie, since Blitz has actually opened up to both of them and apologized to/reconciled with them (he explicitly apologizes to Fizz in Oops and indirectly apologizes to Moxxie in Truth Seekers). I also find it interesting that both of those above apologies/reconciliations started with a fight or conflict.

In Moxxie's case, the truth gas initiates their conflict. They spill their guts to each other in person first, then their insecurities are pulled right out in the open for them in their individual hallucinations. When they come to, they have a quiet heart-to-heart.

In Fizz's case, it starts first at Ozzie's as a verbal conflict, and then in Oops it continues with taunts that escalate into a physical fight (when they are captured by Striker). What I particularly noted about their argument during the later shootout is that even though they start out yelling at each other in anger, they gradually clarify facts and express their perspectives and feelings, until the climax of "I DID CARE!!" (...which always makes me cry btw). And then Blitz actually says the words "I'm sorry." And although he admits/explains that it was an accident, he doesn't try to make any excuses or lay the blame anywhere else. That is huge for him!!

Back to Full Moon... When Blitz starts yelling and angrily shouts his feelings (however rational or irrational they are, however hurtfully they are phrased), he is trying to gain any kind of control over the conversation. He is trying to have a conversation at all. And fighting about it (whether physically or verbally) might be the only way he knows how to initiate that. Someone else on here noted that fighting seems to be a sort of default(...? not sure how to phrase that) way of resolving conflict in imp culture-- as we see with Millie and Sallie May in their short.

And, quite obviously, but very importantly.... Stolas is not an imp. He isn't familiar with that form of conflict resolution, nor that form of communication. At all. All he knows is Stella screaming at him and insulting him.

Stolas shuts down at the end of Full Moon because Blitz's screaming and insults trigger him after of all those years of Stella's abuse (Stolas' response to which is entirely valid and understandable). Both Stolas and Blitz perceive the other's response as a rejection, both of them are triggered by the other's response. It was depicted in an intensely realistic way-- hurt people hurt people-- people speaking completely different languages with their very different traumas and trauma responses, tbh. Neither of them is more wrong than the other. It's a heart-wrenchingly accurate display of traumatized people who care about each other, yet unintentionally hurt each other... buhhhhhhhhh FEELINGS.

#helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss #stolitz #stolitz full moon #helluva boss full moon #helluva boss truth seekers #blitzø #fizzarolli #moxxie #helluva boss oops #helluva boss analysis

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boy-gender · 5 months ago

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How do you deal with guilt around being a man, and like generally feeling like you're "betraying women" or choosing to be something bad by transitioning? It's something I've really been struggling with..

I sort of have two answers for you.

The first is a bit glib, but I think you've got some bioessentialism to unlearn, anon. I know that it's probably not a belief you arrived at yourself- rather, a bunch of hateful radfem douschebags have so often repeatedly said shit like that, that you're a traitor, you're failing feminism, youre just trying to escape the patriarchy, you're mocking what women are, men are evil and youll become evil especially with testosterone. That kind of crap.

Genuinely I do not give it any thought. It's ridiculous on the surface, so I write it off as misguided and inane. There is no logical way to justify grouping an entire half of the population together, deciding that the one thing they have in common (being men) is somehow the defining trait about them (because nothing else is being taken into account, like their sexuality, ethnicity, trans or intersex status, poverty level, where they live, whatever) and then also deciding that one common trait is the root of all evil. I've personally had a lot of experience with people doing this with certain mental illnesses- particularly cluster B personality disorders- and deciding like "yes this one thing about you makes you evil. You have Evil Person Disorder," and seeing how stupid that was, I just applied it elsewhere. Humans are far too diverse, nuanced, and contradictory for any flat rule like "all X people are bad" to ever be accurate. If it's not accurate, it's not useful, so I don't judge myself by it. I literally just block the people spewing that shit and let it slide off like water on a duck. I have enough warped internalized beliefs from my upbringing- I'm not adding more when I can immediately and obviously see their flaws.

So my advice is to block anyone you see saying that shit. You might be beginning to internalize it because of just how often you see it- so you need to cut that off at the source. Radfems are not and never will be allies; they do not have "some good points." Their movement was specifically designed by conservatives to uphold white supremacist capitalism, and nothing that comes from that is ethically correct. I'd suggest picking up Mothers of Conservatism by Michelle Nickerson. A lot about the origins of the radfem/female separatism movements are detailed there, created by fundamentally conservative women. With this new 4B movement shit on the rise, it's helpful to understand how fucked up and wrong they've always been from the beginning. My second answer to you is to look at what manhood means to you. If you don't think you can be objective about this, ask a friend to help. List the traits you associate with what *you* personally want to be as a man, what you hope you transition towards. Do you want to be a financial provider? Do you want to defend your community? Do you want to be generous? Brave? Do you want to be an expert in a special interest? Do you want to make lots of friends?

Make a list of those traits. Then look at them, divorced from the idea of gender. Is being a financial provider "bad?" Is being generous bad? Or brave? Or having lots of friends? Are any of these things bad in isolation, or does your guilt about them come from their association with manhood? Is that /your/ association, or did other people cause you to think there is an association?

For me, I had two formative male relationships as a child. My father, and my maternal grandfather. My father was an abusive piece of shit who liked to pick me up by the throat and slam me into walls, threaten our pet cats, scream at me until I dissociated, called me slurs, hated my opinions on anything, belittled me, believed only in capitalism, is a social darwinist capitalist schill, hates my mom, treated me like a servant and punching bag, and is a miserable fuck with no friends.

My grandpa was an old man who loved scotland and tartan and scottish terriers even though he never had one, loved each of his cats which he had all the time. He collected coins and read about history, he made model planes. He watched judge judy with me and talked about the cases and if we agreed with her rulings; he watched the news from multiple different outlets a day and taught me to weigh them against one another. He loved sitting on the porch and watching neighborhood kids play, and he drank a lot of lemonade. He was a brilliant chemist, provider, raised 4 kids in near poverty, then raised 8 grandkids after that. He would sneak me chocolate malt balls as a "vitamin" and he would tease my grandma by pretending to pick up and lick his plate after dinner. He taught my uncle to garden who then taught my cousin, so all my life gardening has been "mens work" to me. He was soft spoken, curious, patient, and mischevious. He loved my grandma for 60 years until he died.

These men have nothing in common except that they were men. Being a man didnt make my grandpa evil because he chose not to be. Being a man didnt make my dad evil either; he's an evil fuck because he made that choice. They are both sentient beings, who can use logic and emotions alike. One chose poorly. It never made sense to me as a child to assume all men would be like my dad or like my grandpa, because they were both men and they weren't at all like each other. Some categories are just so broadly diverse that they aren't really helpful- if I ask you to picture a mammal, do I mean a monkey or a mouse? Does "sea creature" mean a giant ass blue whale or a tiny piece of plankton? "Man" as a category is too broad to make assumptions about. I know it sounds circular and reductive, but the only thing that makes someone a man is...being a man. Nothing else.

I find it helps to look at a diverse array of men, to see all that men can be, especially men not like myself or the men I know. What does it mean to be a man in rural Yunnan farm country? What did it mean to be a man in medieval europe? What is it like being a gay black man from california, or a hunter living off the grid in appalachia? What does it mean to be a man in a culture where long hair is masculine, or where harvesting plants is masculine, where being a doctor is masculine? What about cultures where adornment is masculine? Hell, what about animals? What's it like to be a male lion vs a male house cat? What do I think about male cardinals, who are the bright lovely red ones, whose color is meant to draw a predators eye to them and away from the female cardinals and their nests?

To me, gender is an all you can eat buffet. It's customizeable. You can pick up or ignore or throw away any traits you want or don't want. Grab things that are feminine in your culture and incorporate them into your manhood in a subversive, gender nonconforming way. Take things that are masculine that make you happy, that you're reclaiming in a way because you may not have been allowed to do/be them before. Fill your gender with the ideals and aesthetics you like. You are fundamentally changing manhood by being a man, by being a different kind of man than any other man. If there are 4 billion men on the planet, there are 4 billion different 'microgenders' of man.

Seems silly to write off an entire 4 billion people as inherently evil and incapable of either goodness or change. It's just illogical. For me, that's enough to discard the idea wholecloth. If it doesn't make sense, I'm not wasting my time with it. That's not an ability everyone else has easily though, so you take the time you need. Try to look at yourself as objectively as possible, as an outsider. As you transition, have your actions become more evil? Are you committing sexist acts? Have you literally betrayed all the women you know somehow? Do you feel yourself becoming less kind, less patient, less interested in equality or the preservation of life? I'm betting, since you're nervous about it enough to ask, that none of those things are happening to you. Do not let yourself be gaslit into believing you are becoming something you're not. Look at your actions, your words. Look at your values and how you live up to them. If you don't see any sudden discrepancy, then you know anyone who tells you you're becoming evil by becoming a man is straight up lying to you. They're projecting an idea onto you that doesnt fit reality; trying to put a round peg in the square hole. Be curious, be objective. Do not be misled, and for those who try to mislead you, hit them with a chunky block button.

#transblr #transandrophobia #long post #sorry it took a while to answer anon i wanted to think about this before responding #feel free to reblog #lovely people in my inbox

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olderthannetfic · 5 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/766905425760337920/olderthannetfic-i-used-the-data-people-gave-me

https://dl.acm.org/doi/abs/10.1145/3025453.3025720

if you (or any of this blog's followers who likes statistics) have the time to go into detail, how can i find and/or make charts similar to those? i'm curious to see more recent numbers for the stats in the research but i don't know how to search for them. looking up terms like 'ao3 statistics' only brings up results for personal works like hits, views, and kudos.

*dying*

Anon... my charts are just numbers I grabbed by hand from AO3.

Cecelia Aragon runs a data science lab at a university where they downloaded all of FFN and then wrote programs to try to assign metadata and crunch numbers.

The first step to any stats project is to figure out what question you're asking and what kind of data would actually answer it.

Then you look at your target site (or whatever) and see where that data might be stored or how it could be determined in a relatively objective way. This requires a lot of understanding of the site in question.

For example, I wanted shipping stats for Wattpad. It doesn't offer AO3-style tags for that, so I needed to randomly sample, then hand-classify. Destination Toast ran an analysis like that and outsourced the classification to others with the instruction to mark something as "gen" if it was too hard to tell if there was a ship. Knowing what Wattpad is like—very, very het and very, very incoherent—I thought this was a poor choice. When I did my analysis, I erred on the side of assuming something was het rather than gen. I think that makes my numbers more accurate, but more is not entirely. Since I did my hand-classification myself, it will be more consistent... but also potentially more inaccurate in some particular direction. Outsourcing reduces the chance of one person's takes biasing the whole dataset but introduces other potential problems.

Being aware of these drawbacks in various methods of looking at data is important. You can't really fix them, but you can at least note them in your writeup.

For example, looking at AO3 as AO3 is relatively easy, but using AO3 to generalize about fanfic is a terrible idea. Many fandom stats people don't realize this or don't realize why this is so.

Which stats are you after in particular? Shipping? Join dates? Kudos ratios?

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wearyeyebrow · 2 years ago

Text

Worthy In Blue

Summary: You’ve been working on a little surprise project for Lucifer involving navy blue rope and a mahogany chair. You know Lucifer has a penchant for ropework, so what if you gave him an evening to put those skills, and your own, to good use?

Tags under the cut.

Tags: submissive lucifer, dominant MC, rope, restraints, MC is in rope, Lucifer is restrained, pegging, cunnilingus, gn MC, afab MC, mutual possessiveness, romance, established relationship, pre-nightbringer

Tonight is the long awaited Grimte Banquet where all the noble houses gather. Relationships are maintained, new ones started, and it’s all Lucifer can do to keep his brothers in line. Luckily, he has you to keep Mammon by your side and Beel full of food.

The night drones on spent managing many noble advances. He spares you a weary glance and you wink at him from across the hall. He can’t help the quirk of his mouth, a slight smile amidst everything. You’re impossibly charming.

A few moments later and he hears your voice in his ear. “Meet me in the coat room, I have something to show you.”

You slip away and disappear somewhere in the crowd. Eventually he manages a moment alone, horribly curious as he finds his way to you.

You close the door behind him, nearly hidden amidst coats of all sizes. “Hi gorgeous,” you wrap your arms around his waist.

"A coat closet?" He muses.

“I won’t keep you. Pretty sure Beel is looking for me too… Here.” You hold up your phone, “What do you think?”

You’re showing him a picture of… rope? “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“I could hardly send it to your phone right now, what with the entire royal court surrounding you. Plus, I’d rather explain its implications in person.”

“Implications?”

“Mm. Are you free next Friday night? Around 10pm?”

“I…” he allows himself a small smile, “I might be able to spare you some time.”

“Oh might you?” You smirk, “Well, if you’re too busy I completely understand. I’m capable of appreciating my own hard work.”

He acts affronted, grabbing you by the waist and kissing your hand. “Would a willing participant not please you more?”

“Isn’t that why I asked you in the first place?” He’s captivated by the crinkle of your nose, by the warmth of your smile.

“You’ve caught me,” he chuckles, “I’m all yours.”

“Then it’s a date. Do you like the color?”

You show him your phone again and he hums appreciatively. "Did you get it from Cloven Boutique? I didn’t think they stocked colored rope."

“They don’t, I dyed it myself."

“Truly?” He looks closer, in want of his glasses. “It looks like a professional job."

"Well, I had to get the color just right - I love the look of you in blue."

"Oh?" His tone softens.

“Mhm…” You appreciatively sweep your eyes up his body, lingering the gold peacock tie-clip you got him last month. You reach out and adjust his collar, “I love seeing you in things I’ve bought.”

“You have good taste.”

“Do you really think so?”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t wear something if it didn’t suit me.”

You laugh, “I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m charming.”

He fondly rolls his eyes. “I suppose both descriptors are accurate. I will look forward to it all week.”

“I think it’ll be worth the wait.” You lean up and brush your lips against his, “Don’t dance with too many nobles now.”

“Haven’t you noticed? All eyes are on you tonight. It’s taken everything in me not to whisk you away.”

“Likewise, darling.” You wink at him again and his heart certainly doesn’t flutter.

Lucifer knocks on your closed door, waiting for you to beckon him inside.

The first thing he notices is an old mahogany chair in the middle of your room, stolen from the hallway. It sits odd against your comfortable furniture.

You make a show of locking your door, brushing against his shoulder as you pass by. Then you cast a noise canceling spell - nothing but an emergency could disturb you now.

When you meet his eyes you're delighted by his wanting expression, unguarded and open in his desire. "I wonder…" you walk over to him, "how much you've thought about this night, curious about what I've planned?" You straighten his tie, close enough to see him swallow.

"It has been on my mind." He takes your hand in his own and kisses your knuckles, looking every part adoring.

You chuckle fondly, "Especially in the evenings, when you think of me?"

His cheeks heat up but his gaze is steady. “I won’t deny it."

“Honesty suits you." He goes in for a kiss just as you pull away. "I want to show you something."

He makes a curious sound and you leave him to open your dresser drawer. "Now, you knew I'd be using rope tonight, but for what exactly I didn't tell you." You gather the rope in your arms, "It might not seem like much of a deviation."

"Oh?" He eyes the rope you've picked.

"You still like it?"

He turns the rope over in his hands, "It’s richer than I remember. How did you do it?"

"Blue mangled beetles - kind of like carmine, but the process is simpler. When dried and crushed they make a beautiful dark navy dye that doesn’t bleed."

"You did your research."

You chuckle and take the rope from his hands. "Only the best for you. Gloves off."

He slips off his right leather glove, finger by finger - wait. “Blue?” You look at him inquisitively. His nails are a rich navy blue, perfectly manicured and glossy.

His eyes flicker behind you, cheeks dusting pink. “I painted them a few days ago.”

You're confused for a minute, then it hits you. “Wait - because of me?”

His voice drops, “You - you mentioned-" He clears his throat, "I thought you might like them.”

"I love them, Lucifer…" You kiss his knuckles, his palm, his wrist, before pulling him in for a proper kiss. His hand cups your jaw and he makes a small, plaintive sound. He really had been thinking about your words all this time.

You pull away with reluctance. "It's time I tell you what we’ll be doing tonight. Shall we start the scene?"

He clears his throat again and sweeps his own magic over your door. "Let us begin."

"Any titles are allowed tonight, you can address me however you’d like. Red to stop the act, yellow to pause, and green for all good. Fire if you want to stop the scene entirely."

"Understood.”

“Then…" the glint in your eyes makes him a little weak in the knees. "I know you have a penchant for ropework. And I know how much you enjoy earning my praise. So, I had a thought - tonight I’d like you to use your ropework skills and tie me up, but I want full range of motion, you know, a design strictly for aesthetics.” You pull the rope taught in your hands, “And then, if you do a good enough job, I may reward you with some rope of my own. What do you say?” You hold out the rope to him.

You smile and oblige, settling into the cold wooden seat. He eyes you and then the rope, contemplative, before loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He circles you, and you admire the focused, pointed look on his face as he carefully plans an intricate design in his mind’s eye. He’s completely in his element and you love to watch him work.

“What an intriguing idea...” He takes the rope from your hands with soft reverence, feeling the rough texture between his fingers. “You really got such a nice shine to it,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. He breathes out slowly and gestures to the mahogany chair, “Please dear, relax.”

“Ah,’ you suddenly realize, “This might help.” You lift up your shirt and drop it next to the chair before shimmying out of your bottoms, leaving you bare before him.

“Yes…” he murmurs as his eyes roam your skin.

You feel a pleasant tingle up your spine when he brushes his fingers through your hair, gently gathering until he can put it up properly above your neckline. Your body relaxes under his touch.

The first knot is an anchor tie just below your bust, he uses four strands and divides them into two, slipping each half over your shoulders and back down to meet your back. The rough texture warms you from the outside in but his careful touch is cool against your skin.

You watch him as he works, loving the interplay of shadow that falls across his sharp features. He catches you staring.

“Am I pleasing to look at, Madam?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Your pact mark sings and you chuckle, bemused at the sensation. “You like it when I compliment you, don’t you, my little black bird?”

His cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrow, as he’s put off by the pet name, but the humming in your chest only continues. “I can feel it, you know? Honesty really does suit you best - your face is much prettier wearing it.”

The tips of his ears turn pink but he circles you, wrapping his arms around your midsection to finish fixing a knot in place. Suddenly his warm lips press into the crook of your shoulder. The deep undertones of his voice make you shiver as he whispers in your ear. “You will be the death of me.”

You turn to meet his eyes, coy mischief in your own. “I think you’ll survive.” He chuckles and you kiss him once, twice, just to make him simmer. He almost goes back in for a third but you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “Not yet.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He kisses your shoulder once more.

Time passes in a lovely, hazy sort of way. Lucifer relaxes into the process as you'd hoped he would. It’s a gentle sort of focus where his mind is set on something, a place where nothing else can bother him or tear away his careful attention. He loves taking your direction, easing him out of his mind, constantly wound too tight.

Finally he kneels to finish the job, gingerly maneuvering one of your legs up and over his shoulder to wrap a strand around the back of your thigh. His eyes wander this time, following the line of your body until he lingers between your legs. As if he can’t help himself he kisses your skin, leaving a delicate trail up the inside of your thigh.

You cup his jaw in one hand and he kisses your palm, eyeing between your legs. “After you finish,” you murmur, “You’ll have to earn what you get tonight.” His eyes flicker to yours and he continues moving, finishing the tie he started.

“I believe I’m finished, will you stand?”

You do so, feeling the bend and flex of rope. Nothing feels too tight, everything is snug, hugging the curves of your body. You admire what lacing you can see, particularly the delicate design around your hands and wrists. He truly had taken his time, a glance at the clock proves that an hour has passed.

Finally you turn around and examine his work in the mirror. Your eyes light up at his intricate ropework. You’re beautiful, elegant, fully mobile and yet covered in faux restraints. You admire yourself, making a show of your appreciation. His chest puffs out and the pact mark on your chest rumbles. You gently circle your clit with one finger and enjoy how he shifts uncomfortably behind you.

You want more from him. Your body aches from an hour of foreplay.

You cup his jaw with one hand. “Kneel.”

“Yes Sir,” he murmurs, almost breathless.

His willing, almost eager demonstration of your power over him, of his own lack of control, further spurns you on, and you know he can hold your weight.

"Show me, then, devotion to your work." You prop one leg up on the hard mahogany seat, exposing yourself for him. Rope hugs your thighs, indenting and highlighting what he wants most.

His eyes flicker between your face and your clit. He licks his lips. "Thank you, Sir."

You run a hand through his hair and brace the other on the back of the chair. As soon as his tongue touches your clit you gasp, unable to help yourself. You’ve been on edge for so long now, throbbing at every new rope and delicate detail. You savor his mouth, rocking your hips into his face gently. "Yes…" he sucks and licks as you drip onto his tongue and he moans softly at the gentle tug of your hand in his hair.

You'll come quickly and you know it - you rock against him faster now and he wraps his fingers through the ropes on the back of your thigh before squeezing your ass and petting between your legs.

You look down at him, at his disheveled appearance, tousled hair, and too-tight pants. “Lucifer, darling, you - ah - you don’t have to say anything, no thoughts, no control, just take what I give you."

He groans and claws at the backs of your thighs, pulling you forward against his mouth.

You tilt your head back. "Good man, good job-" he whines and flicks his tongue with renewed vigor, "fffuck, right there…"

You fuck his face, shivering and shaking, chasing your orgasm. He holds you upright and supports your body, grasping at his own ropework. You moan and twitch. A glance at the mirror brings you closer still, “Look baby, look at you, making me feel so fucking good… shit-” Your grip on his hair tightens as you twist your hand, pulling him forward. He moans, high and breathy, harshly breathing through his nose.

His right hand supports your waist while his left squeezes your ass. Just a minute more, a second more, finally, finally his palpable desire sends you over the edge, and god how it fills the air. He takes it all and you don't fall, even as your legs lock and your grip falters. You shake and shiver in his tight grasp, palms holding tight to his shoulders. He keeps licking, just enough to keep you there until tension dissipates and you’re overstimulated. Only then does his grip loosen, following your body as you stand on your own, knees shaking.

There's an unspoken tenderness in his eyes - your baby takes pride in service.

You step away from him when you can, fixing his hair and cleaning your cum from his lips. "Sit on the chair, darling."

His knees crack when he gets up, stiff from his place on the hardwood floor. He sits, bulge straining against his trousers, watching you with rapt attention.

"I think…" you turn around, "You've more than earned your reward - as if there was any doubt in my mind."

“Oh?” He practically glows at your praise.

"And…” you walk over to your nightstand once more, "I'm not done with this yet." He swallows, gaze fixated on the rope in your hands. You smirk, "You like that idea?"

He shifts again. "Yes I - very much."

You reach into your nightstand and pull out a matte black silicone dildo, smaller, elegant even. You hold it up. “What about this? Are you up for it tonight?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I prepared myself for the possibility.”

“Perfect,“ you breathe, already excited. “Then…” your smile is nearly wicked as you regard him and his cock throbs in earnest. “Clothes off. Hands behind your back - hold your forearms.”

He acquiesces, knowing exactly what you want.

Soon he’s sitting naked on the chair, hands held behind his back, willingly at your mercy. Your ties aren’t nearly as elegant, but they restrict his movement and hug his body. You restrain his arms behind his back with a chest harness, carefully distributing the weight of the rope, adding just a touch of flourish. Even in such a simple design he looks lovely. Blue really is his color, you think, admiring him. He catches your eye.

“I was right,” you say, tilting his chin up for a chaste peck on the lips, “You look lovely in blue.” He groans and chases your lips this time. You let him, just once, and deepen the kiss yourself, before grabbing him by the hair, wrenching his head up. “Not yet, darling.”

“As you wish.” He’s breathless and kiss bitten.

You leave him and stack two large pillows on top of each other. You motion for him to stand before grabbing him by the restraints. “I will help you get into position,” you chuckle darkly, “I want you face down.”

His cheeks feel hot but he nods, “Yes Sir.”

“Good man. Lie down.”

It takes a moment since he can’t move his arms but you finally have him exactly where you want him, chest pushed into the bed, hips and ass raised by the pillows beneath him.

He tilts his head to look at you with one eye, eyebrow raised as you appear with more rope.

‘Can’t have you squirming too much, now can I?” He groans into the pillow beneath him and nods.

“Tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable or need to readjust, this position might get tiring after awhile.”

“I’m sure I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m not asking. Tell me.”

He shivers. “Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.”

You uncap the lube on your nightstand and snap a glove on. He shivers at the cold feeling of your lubed finger rubbing against him, but as your hand warms so does his body and he slowly starts to meet your gentle thrusts as you enter him. You love this part. It’s incredibly intimate, almost more so that the ensuing sex, because anyone else would have been thrown out long ago - he has only ever done this with you.

Once you’re up to two fingers comfortably you withdraw your hand and replace it with your lubed up strap. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready.” You smack his ass and he gasps.

“What was that?”

“I apologize, yes I - I’m ready.”

“That’s better. One more remark like that,” you murmur, pressing in slowly, “And I’ll rethink your reward.”

He hisses, wiggling his hips, “A-Apologies - it won’t happen again.”

‘I know it won’t,” you smile, “because you love this too much.” Finally, finally you move your hips, slow at first, until finding a gentle rhythm. You use his bound legs as leverage, pushing deep inside of him as his low, desperate moans fill the air.

As his body strains against the rope it holds tight, digging into his skin - this heat, this pleasure, your power over him is dizzying. For a few blissful moments he can’t think, all he can do is feel you surround him and hear your haunting voice in his ear.

It is easy to admire him, Lucifer Morningstar splayed out before you, rocking his ass into your hips, wanting more, more. You grab the rope holding his forearms tight against his back and pull, arching his back against the sheets. He cries out, and you lean down, pushing all your weight on top of him.

“That feel good, baby? Heh, you love it don’t you?” Your hips are slow and deep, grinding on his favorite spot, “You love being fucked like this. Wrapped in my rope, under my hand-” He moans, long and debauched. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this, you belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes-!”

You’re breathless above him. “We belong to each other, right, love?”

His eyes open and he gazes at you in the adjacent mirror, “Yes…” You dip and kiss the back of his neck, soft and sweet, "Hnn…" he takes in a shuddering breath and lets his head fall forward.

“That's right, no one else deserves to touch you, no one else is good enough, worthy enough.” You whisper in his ear.

He gasps your name and pushes his ass against your hips, pathetically fucking himself on your strap. Every slap of your skin sears welts into his body. You grab his hair and jerk his body up.

“Eyes open, look at yourself.” He didn’t think he could get any redder, but the sight of you behind him, fucking his ass with slow purposeful thrusts, restraining him while tied in his own ropework, it's too much, he can’t - he’ll -

You wrench his head up, “Keep looking,” you pant, “look at the face you make when you come for me.”

He can’t help it, he comes fast and hot, hips stuttering, mouth open and gasping. You slow but you don’t stop. He whimpers but dutifully stays, taking it all.

“Good man,” you praise him, “So. Fucking. Good-” you punctuate your words by digging your nails into his back. You slowly drag them downward and tiny specks of blood bubble to the surface. He hisses but his cock jumps beneath him. “You like a little pain, don’t you?” You slap his ass with an open palm. “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes Ma’am -”

“Yes what?”

"Fuck - more, please-!”

“Filthy.” You bite, before indulging him with another slap on the ass.

You run your nails gently over the welts and he sighs in bliss. In this moment of calm you use all your strength to hoist him upward again, until his back is flush against your chest. You wrap a hand around his throat and start to bounce him on your cock. His eyes roll back and he groans, reaching around to grab your hip as he rocks back into you.

“When I cut you loose,” you pant, “I want you to lie down on your back, legs spread, waiting and ready for me again. Do you understand me?”

He swallows breathlessly and nods.

You lean him forward and gently pull out. You untie his legs, and then his arms before dropping the rope next to the bed. His body is tinged red with slight rope burn, just how he likes.

He rolls over onto his back, finally making eye contact with you. You smile at him, gentle, and his pupils pin. “Spread your legs for me.”

Lucifer grabs his own knees, and spreads his legs while you refuse to let him lose eye contact. His red flush is delicious, and so is his twitching cock, clearly enjoying this.

You grab more lube from the nightstand and quickly reapply before holding one of his legs to your chest and slipping back inside. He groans and rocks his hips forward, savoring the feeling.

You slowly snap your hips forward, reaching deep inside him, you keep repositioning until he gasps and then you hold there. Little thrusts of your hips grinding against his ass. He gasps low, moaning sweetly in his deep voice as sweat trickles down his temple.

“Kiss me-” he croaks, reaching for you. You melt into him and grind against him as his hands roam your body. He doesn’t realize he’s whimpering and shuddering, or if he does he doesn’t care.

You continue like this for a while, enjoying his gasping deep moans in your ear, his lips and teeth on your neck. Finally, at your mercy, you gently trace your fingers over the head of his cock. The noise he makes is agonizing, and you have half a mind to continue neglecting him. But he has your heart as you keep up that gentle, light contact, and he doesn’t ask for more. His head is spinning, filled with thoughts of you, you, just you.

You speed up your hand as your hips get tired and he grips your back, rocking into you. Finally you feel him tense, feel his blunt nails dig into your back.

“There you go, my pretty bird,”

He gasps, light and beautiful, shuddering as he comes, keening as each slow, deep thrust of your hips milks another dribble of cum out of him.

You kiss again and again, covered in sweat, cum, and specks of blood, ignoring the passage of time.

Darkness blankets your bedroom, barely lit in deep navy shadow. Your fingernails fall up and down rhythmically over the rope burn on Lucifer’s back.

“I heard you were approached last week.” He murmurs.

“At the Banquet…? Oh, did Asmo say something?”

Lucifer chuckles, "He said something akin to "Everyone here is itching for their chance, don't let them out of your sight."

You feign exasperation. "And what did you do, you let me out of your sight. Now I'm in bed with a demon."

Lucifer snorts, "The very same demon you propositioned in a coat closet."

"What can I say? I know who I want," you kiss his temple.

Lucifer leans into you further, draped across your body. "Don't you have plans early tomorrow morning?"

“You yawn again, “Solomon said he has something important to talk to me about. What exactly, I’m not sure… he can wait until I've had breakfast.”

“That sorcerer…”

“He wants you so bad,” you chuckle, “I mean, it isn’t up to me, but I enjoy acting as if it is.”

“Rest assured,” he kisses your shoulder, “he’ll never have me, not like you do.”

Your smile is gentle. “I love you, Luci.”

“And I you.”

Lucifer closes his eyes and relaxes his sore body, satisfied and calm. He resolves to make you breakfast in the morning before seeing you off to Solomon.

Truly, he thinks, there's nothing he can’t face as long as you’re there when he wakes.

#lucifer obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me smut #sub lucifer #dom mc #my writing #wearyeyebrow #teeny tiny bit of nightbringer angst at the end #dom!reader #sub!lucifer #sub obey me

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