#LED hair growth brushes

[magicsecret90]

Boost Hair Growth and Improve Hair Health with LED Hair Growth Brushes

Revealing the Power of LED Brushes for Hair Growth:

Try incorporating an LED hair growth brush into your daily routine and experience the transformative power of light therapy for yourself.

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Exposing the Capabilities of LED Hair Growth Brushes:

Let's examine the five main advantages of  LED hair growth brushes in your hair care regimen.

5 Key Advantages of  LED Hair Growth Brushes for Your Haircare Routine

Enhanced Hair Growth: 

LED hair growth brushes that use low-level light therapy (LLLT) increase blood circulation in the scalp, which makes it easier for vital nutrients to reach hair follicles.

Increased blood flow stimulates dormant follicles, resulting in faster hair growth.

Using an LED hair growth brush in your routine, you can promote your hair's natural growth cycle and achieve thicker, fuller locks.

Reduced Hair Loss:

 LED hair growth brushes can reduce hair loss by strengthening follicles and preventing premature shedding.

The brush's mild stimulation promotes stronger, healthier hair, which lowers the risk of breakage and thinning.

Consistent use may result in a noticeable reduction in hair loss and an overall improvement in the density and thickness of your hair.

Improved Scalp Health:

LED hair growth brushes provide benefits beyond hair growth, including improved scalp health.

The brush's rubbing motion aids in exfoliating the scalp by removing accumulated dead skin cells, surplus oil, and product residue.

This deep cleansing action can help with scalp conditions like dandruff and itching, creating a healthier environment for hair growth

Furthermore, healthier scalps can encourage healthier hair overall growth.

Enhanced Absorption of Haircare Products:

Using an LED hair growth brush before applying products can improve their absorption and effectiveness.

By increasing scalp circulation, light therapy helps nutrients from shampoos, conditioners, and serums to enter hair follicles deeply.

This results in improved hydration, nourishment, and overall health for your hair, maximizing the benefits of your haircare regimen.

Furthermore, improved absorption of hair care products can lead to better styling results and longer-lasting hairstyles.

Convenient and Easy to Use:

LED hair growth brushes provide salon-quality convenience at home without requiring difficult processes or multiple trips.

Simply incorporate the brush into your regular haircare routine and use it for a few minutes.

Because of their simplicity of use, LED hair growth brushes are a useful and affordable way to encourage the health and vibrancy of hair.

Furthermore, LED hair growth brushes are portable, you can use them anywhere. This helps keep up your haircare regimen even when you are on the road or away from home.

Discover the Power of LED Hair Growth Brushes

Adding an LED hair growth brush to your haircare regimen can have several advantages, such as better hair growth, less hair loss, a healthy scalp, better product absorption, and convenience. 

Using an LED Hair growth brush, you can give your hair the healthy, glossy locks you have always wanted. 

Purchase an LED hair growth brush from Magic Secret to start using light therapy on healthier, more attractive hair.

[umeji-writes]

Okay, but let's talk about Balam's hair for a hot second

(Yes, it may have become one of my fixations) You know, the guy not only cut it radically - and we know it's because of Iruma - he also let it grow back, and now he grooms it much better than before. Why? While my wishful thinking headcanon is that Kalego offered to brush it after they declared their feelings for each other (they are definitely introduced as best friends, but c'mon, look at them here)

...I also recognize this is not canon, so it can't be the actual reason. So I was wondering: why this difference? IMO it signifies personal growth, but what caused it, if Iruma led to the haircut? And then it hit me. Meeting Iruma, again - but in a deeper way than I thought at first. According to Balam's own words, he decided to cut his hair to appear more approachable. But why not brush it and style it as he's doing now? Everything we know about Balam's past points to him being treated like a weirdo and marginalized, not only because he likes picture books, he was also hyperfixated with the existence of humans.

This went on all his life, from bullies at school to his own students. He was likely wounded, full of self doubt and possibly shame, so he withdrew into himself, and his hair was messy because why bother if people avoid you anyway. So imagine finally having tangible proof that you were right all along. That's life changing, not only because of the discovery itself - it can make you reevaluate your whole story, and yourself. A radical cut was a logical thing to do, to break with the past. But why letting the hair grow back then? I speculate that Balam is most comfortable with long hair after all, and he feels more like himself this way (I mean, he had medium-to-long hair in all flashbacks). I like to think that his personal grooming is a metaphor for his newly found self confidence and self love: he can be himself to the fullest, he likes the demon he is, and he's not afraid of showing it to everyone else now, by making his hair prettier. He was right all along, and everybody else can shut it.

Such a small detail in the grand scheme of things, yet enormous for the single character. I love this manga so much ♡

[dkisms]

Velvet Varnish

Jeonghan x afab!reader /// 5.7k words ///fluff, smut, a lil bit of angst for the road

Warnings: ex being an absolute asshole

Pale, slender fingers moved their way down the canvas, gently touching as if to not harm the work underneath. The fan in the room continued to blow, as the man’s fingers gently unwrapped fishing wire from the frame of the canvas, and slowly pulled the loosened nails from the frame. 

“Pass me my hammer?” The man’s voice said, breaking you from your stupor. 

          Your eyes blinked into focus, as you quickly handed him the hammer to loosen more nails. He gave you a look, before getting back to work.

“Tired?” Jeonghan asked, blowing a piece of blonde hair from his face.

          You met Jeonghan in your freshman year of college, four years ago. He was the bright-eyed, beautiful senior art student everyone had a crush over, and gushed about in their free time. To be honest, when you first worked with him, you thought of Jeonghan as overrated. The art project you were assigned with him, however, quickly changed that. As an assignment at the end of the year to show his growth as a student and your potential, you quickly fell for Jeonghan, as many others had.

          You remember the scene vividly, as sunlight danced in the room, the elegance of each miniscule brush stroke on the painting, the laugh he let out at a joke you made, as he taught you new ways to use your emotions in art. Ever since then, he took over every part of your brain, every second. Any paint brush you found at any store, you wondered if he would love. You remember at the end of the year, smiling with red cheeks at the invitation to his exposition, and the bright grin you held on your face as he left his classmates to greet you when you showed up.

          You even remember the feeling of your heart shattering into miniscule pieces, as you saw his brightest smile, the most beautiful look of love on his face, as he looked at another senior from his class. As much as everyone adored Yoon Jeonghan, he was untouchable. He had fallen in love with a sculptor on his first day, and they had dated ever since. From that day forward, you kept any signs of your crush under lock and key.

          When he graduated, you promised yourself to focus on your own work, and not worry about Jeonghan. You had been far too cowardly to approach him, and instead buried yourself in your work, leaving your crush behind. After your senior year, however, you had received an offer from an art conservation facility, and was ready to move forward with your life. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for you.

          You remember a pretty receptionist telling you about the office, and workers, and during your first week, listened to all the petty gossip about how the office crush was out on vacation with his family. A few days after, you nearly dropped your coffee in shock, as the office crush, Yoon Jeonghan, approached you. His freshly dyed blonde hair, clean apron, and excited smile had been a far change from the man you remember, but your heart quickly brought every memory back. 

          When he approached you every day after that for small talk, coffee, or for help on a project, your crush grew. Quite quickly after that, your realization (after two mimosas with a friend) that you were in love with Yoon Jeonghan wasn’t quite unwelcome, but caused many unfortunate struggles.

The amount of times you simply couldn’t help but sit and watch Jeonghan’s work on any painting given led you to be a quick addition to the office “I think I have the hots for Jeonghan club”, much to your chagrin. As much as you loved the water cooler gossip, the conversations about how perfect Jeonghan was did nothing to quell your feelings, and then your stupid boss found out your school history, leading you to now. At this point, you were Jeonghan’s assistant, helping on pretty much every project he had been given. As thankful as you were to be off of paperwork, you weren’t sure your heart could take much more.

          You shook your head as you took a breath, collecting yourself. The blue paint on your palette swirled together with your paintbrush as you lightly worked away at the painting. 

“Good job,” Jeonghan said, looking over at your work. He had let you work on paint matching something simple he had made up. “You’ll be able to help me with touch ups on the next ones.” 

          You returned the soft smile he gave you, looking over the painting he worked on, noting how the colors changed as he removed the old varnish, life coming back to the painting, an inch at a time.

“What is this painting?” You asked, and he moved slightly to the left, letting you roll you and your chair over to him to see.

“A man in love.” He said, leaning back for you to see the full work.

          The full painting was a portrait of a woman’s face. While the skin and clothes had little focus, the eyes were full of color, and the expression of her face as if she had laid eyes on the most beautiful creature in the world. Pinks and reds decorated the background, as if cupid had colored it himself.

“It’s pretty.” You said softly, as he nodded in agreement. “I am confused, though. Why is it a man in love?” You asked, and he smiled.

“It’s because he painted it. She’s looking at him,” Jeonghan said, setting the painting on another table to rest until he could finish it the next day. 

          You knew better than to continue any conversation, seeing his blank face. A year previously, the beautiful, elegant sculptor you swore Jeonghan was going to marry disappeared without a trace from his life, only leaving a note of her wanting to start a journey on her own, and as a new woman.

          Everyone in the office stayed away from Jeonghan for quite awhile after that, not wanting to push. He had been depressed for the longest of while after that, ignoring the world around him. The bags under his eyes had intensified, and he struggled at work, until your boss had talked to him. After two days of him not being in office, he came back, looking normal, but you knew the truth.

          You packed up your brushes, putting the cloth roll holding them back into your desk, and hung your apron back in your locker, as Jeonghan packed his own things, talking and laughing along with another coworker nearby. You pulled out your phone, seeing a few random notifications.

“Anywhere unique tonight?” Your coworker asked, looking at you and Jeonghan.

“Nothing,” Jeonghan said. “I’m not a busy man, fortunately.”

You laughed at the comment, putting on your sweater. “I might stop by somewhere for dinner.” You said, shrugging. “I’m not sure.”

          You picked up your purse, offering the group a good night, and got into the elevator, Jeonghan following. His phone made a sound as he stood in front of you, and as much as you tried to not be nosy, the big red ‘ex’ as the name made it hard not to. Getting back together, I guess, you thought, looking away, and avoiding to look anywhere near him until you both got to the parking garage, and waved goodbye as you both left to opposite sides.

—-////—-

          You couldn’t even go outside of work without seeing Yoon Jeonghan, it seemed. You had seen him across the street, and barely managed to hide when you noticed a woman greet him, knowing it to be the ex. You weren’t nosy, you swear, as you watched her sit with him at a cafe. Definitely not, you assured yourself, even when seeing him laugh at something he said. After seeing her hand him a letter, and talk to him for a while longer, and then hug each other, tears running, you couldn’t defend yourself. You opted to leave quickly after that, not wanting to interfere. It wasn’t your business, after all.

—-////—-

          When you came into work the next day, and greeted Jeonghan, you nearly did a double take at the bags under his eyes, and his hair up in a ponytail. There had only been a few days you had seen him in this state, the day he was dumped being one of them.

“Are you okay?” You asked, and he nodded, working on his retouching. 

“Grab your brushes, please, and help,” Jeonghan said. “I’ve got your palette here.”

          The hours you spent working with Jeonghan were spent in relative silence, other than the sounds of paintbrushes and paint, and the few times you cleaned off your brush. Against your better judgement, or maybe just morbid curiosity, you decided to finally speak up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked, and he barely responded, if only to make a noise of affirmation.

“I just… I went out for dinner last night, and uh, saw you.” You said, eyes flickering over to his form, as his brush stopped moving. “If you’re too uncomfortable, you don’t have to say anything, I’m sorry I asked,” You stuttered out, positive you were just kicking this man while he was down.

“No, no… I suppose you did know us in school, and are curious,” He said, setting his brush down. “She ran off months ago, and I guess wanted to give me closure.” He continued, letting out a sigh as he leaned back into his chair. 

“Sorry,” You blurted. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, you’re fine. We’re friends, right?”

          As much as you wanted to believe him, the hurt in his watery eyes told you better, and you both silently returned to your work, letting the elephant in the room go.

—-////—-

          The months spent with Jeonghan after that seemed to have rejuvenated the man, as he threw himself into his work. You remember in the fall of that year, ages after the ‘incident’. At the moment, he had gone to lunch with friends, leaving you by yourself at work on a painting he had paused before leaving. 

          A knock at the doorway perked you up, as a man with soft brown hair, and a kind smile greeted you. 

“Hi! I’m Joshua,” He said, waving. “Have you seen Jeonghan?”

“Oh, he went out to lunch with a friend. I can leave a message…?” You asked, putting your brush down.

“It’s okay, I’ll just wait, if that’s fine.” He said, moving to sit on Jeonghan’s stool, watching you.

          After ages of silence, you could feel the tension grow in the room. It was clear that Joshua wanted to talk to you, but didn’t want to bother you, so you turned to him, instead.

“How do you know Jeonghan?” You asked, breaking the silence, and the face of relief as Joshua was able to speak to you, without feeling awkward.

“Oh! We met in college. I own a flower store,” He said, grinning. “He’s a great guy.” 

“He is.” You said, finishing a paint spot.

          Joshua eyed you, and you heard a couple of voices, as Jeonghan came into work, greeting a coworker in another room. You looked up and smiled at him, and Joshua watched, mouth opening in light surprise as it clicked in his head. He did remember you, as all three of you had gone to the same college. He was in the same year as Jeonghan, and while he never hung out with him separately, he had seen you go to him for advice over art, and paint styles. He knew the look in your eyes you held, as he felt the same about a tattoo artist a few doors down from his own business.

“How long have you been in love with Jeonghan?” Joshua asked, and your head shot up to see him sitting across from you, piercing eyes staring you down.

“Wh-what?” You asked, ears burning at the accusation. “I’m not.. I don’t like him.”

“We went to school together. I remember you. Everyone saw it,” he said. “I’m surprised you work with him, but I suppose that’s fate.”

“I don’t…”

“Listen,” Joshua said, cutting you off. “I can see it, it’s very obvious. Can I give you some advice?” He asked.

          Against your better judgement, you agreed. Joshua seemed like a kind soul, and to be honest, anything he told you couldn’t hurt you in the future. Either it would make you even more delusional, or it would give you the kick in the head you needed to bring you back to reality.

“I think you should tell him,” Joshua said, honestly. “I’ve seen some people in my life make themselves miserable just because they don’t want to change what they have. You deserve to be happy, and I think he’d love you just as much.” He said, quiet.

          You stared at him in shock as you processed his statement, barely able to breathe. If Joshua, his own friend, wanted you to say something, maybe you should. Before you could even respond, he was grabbing his jacket, and heading over to greet Jeonghan at the door, talking about some event later that week his friends were suddenly planning. He turned to wave at you, saluting you, before disappearing into the closing elevator doors.

Maybe you’d get the courage.

—-////—-

          Weeks later, you were stuck with Jeonghan, at three AM, at your office. Your boss had been a moron, and had taken in a painting with a giant tear, misjudging the time it would take to complete the assignment. After sealing the last piece, you both let out a sigh of relief, letting the glue set in. 

“Finally done.” He said, stretching, and helping you clean up.

          You were quiet for a second, before abruptly turning to him, making him jump, and turn to look at you.

“Are you hungry?” You asked.

“I mean, yeah. Want me to get something delivered before we leave?” He asked, blinking.

“Um, no,” you said, nervous. “Uh, no, I wanted to see if you wanted to go with me to eat. Uh, sit down somewhere.” You asked, face getting redder by the second. 

“Oh,” Jeonghan said, seeing your face, his own ears turning red. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d be okay with that.” He said.

          He helped you clean up, and grabbed your purse, carrying it for you, as the two of you walked to a 24/7 ramen store. You both ordered the same, sitting with each other awkwardly, ears red. To you, it felt like middle school again, of a barely teenaged you sitting at lunch with the crush of the week. Except, you were an adult, and you’ve been in love with Jeonghan for years.

          Jeonghan watched you, talking away about how excited he was about future work projects, and when the waitress approached with the two bowls of noodles, and two bottles of soju, he gave you an excited look.

“Soju..?” You asked, unsure of yourself.

“Mhm,” Jeonghan said, pouring both of your glasses, much to your chagrin. “As courageous as it was to ask me out, you’re nervous, and get that same look when someone tries to talk to you instead of me on a project. So, soju.”

          He took the shot, and quickly poured another, taking it again before starting at his noodles. Well, might as well, you thought, and quickly downed two to match him, and he laughed at your awkwardness. Thankfully, it didn’t last for long, as an hour later, the bowls of noodles were empty, but the two of you were going back and forth about the most random stuff, cheeks red from the liquor. 

          He walked you home, and you kissed his cheek, leaving him grinning at the door, as you nearly felt your heart explode after the date. You felt like you were on your first date again, excited for the future, and hoping this would last forever, the two of you against the world. Your grin wouldn’t go away, feeling awkward and lopsided, like you were trying hard not to squeal. When you took your shower, hopping into bed, the squeal finally let itself out when you checked your phone, seeing a text from Jeonghan.

‘Got home safely. Would you like to go out again sometime soon?♥️’

—-////—-

“Mocha latte~” A voice sang in your ear, making you jump from your concentration of your work, and you gave Jeonghan a scowl.

“You’re going to make me mess up,” You whined. “Thank you.” You said, setting it to the side. 

          He sat down next to you, letting you get back to work as he watched you, slowly pulling your chair over to him. You looked over to him, and he looked away, pretending he was doing nothing, and when you looked back to your work, he continued moving you closer to him. 

“Jeonghan…”  You said, giving him a look. “We’re supposed to finish this by the end of the week.”

“We have time.” Was all he said, before turning your chair to face him, eyes staring at your lips.

“You look like you’re a lion staring at his next meal.” You teased, and he licked his lips.

“I’d love to eat you right now,” He said, and you turned bright red.

“Jeonghan! Not at work!” You said, and he laughed, giving you a kiss. “Happy six months.” He said, handing you a box.

“We- I thought we weren’t doing anything,” You stressed, and he shook his head. “I… I can’t not get you something.” He said. “I love you.” 

          You looked up in shock at him, as you had told him a few times before this, but he never reciprocated. While you were a little upset (I mean, who wouldn’t), you talked to Joshua, and he confirmed it normally took him a while to say it, even if he already felt that way. 

“I love you too.” You said, eyes watering.

“Please don’t cry, darling,” Jeonghan said, opening the box to show the necklace.

It was a simple gem, with a pretty pink gem, and he quickly spun you around to put it on you, and spun you back, wiping the tears from your eyes. When that didn’t work, he sighed and pulled you into a hug, kissing everywhere on your face until you broke out into giggles.

—-////—-

          The hand holding your thigh was heavy as you drank your margarita, arguing with one of Jeonghan’s friends, Mingyu, on a rule.

“Seriously? You can’t do that!” You said, mad at how he was bowling. His girlfriend agreed, and Mingyu glared at the two of you, sitting down with a huff, as Dino pulled out the rulebook, shooting him down instantly.

          Jeonghan chuckled in your ear, leaning to kiss your head, squeezing your thigh. The skirt you opted to wear was clearly bugging the hell out of him, but you didn’t mind, as it let you have an excuse to have his fingers on you. You hadn’t spoken to him about it, but when he started wearing rings every so often, he very clearly noticed how it affected you. He sipped on his bourbon and winked at you, grinning. He had been on a work trip in Paris for the past two weeks, and had returned the day before, and the two of you opted to meet up when hanging with his friends, and then go over to his house later.

          You figured it would just be watching a movie, and cuddling, but the ghost of his lips on your ear told you otherwise. The second Mingyu finished the last set, and the game ended, Jeonghan was out of his seat, saying goodbye to his friends, and practically yanking you to his car. The ride back, you felt heat growing in your stomach, as his hand remained on your thigh, and he drove quickly to his house. His thumb caressed your thigh, and you looked over at him.

“Miss me?” You teased, and his ears reddened, the grip on the steering wheel tightening. 

“Shush.” He said, hand moving closer to your inner thigh, his thumb dangerously close to your underwear. 

           He kneaded at the skin of your thigh, and you felt your face grow hot, along with the heat in your stomach. 

“Jeonghan.” You said, in a barely audible whisper, and let out a whine as he gave in to touch you through your underwear. 

           His fingers felt like they were teasing you, lightly touching, but never committing. “Stop teasing.” You said, and he laughed at you, before moving your underwear to the side, and inserting two of his fingers. 

          You let out a moan at the feeling, intensified by the stupid rings you had got him after he got you the necklace. The heat from his fingers was directly opposed by the cold metal, and it did nothing but turn you on more. 

“And to think I almost took them off.” Jeonghan teased, spurred on by the sounds you were making. 

           You grabbed his arm as his finger curled at your sweet spot, and he gave a shit eating grin, looking straight ahead at the road, looking completely unbothered, as you say a quivering mess in the passenger seat. The heat grew in your belly as you squeezed your thighs together, and his eyes flicked to you, smirking. 

“I.. please, Jeonghan,” You whined, grip tightening on his arm, your other hand holding onto the door handle. 

“Come for me.” Jeonghan said, and when you felt him on your spot again, you came with a loud cry, head smacking against the headrest. He pulled his hand away, and he licked his fingers, giving a hum, as you composed yourself. 

          You fixed yourself to be more presentable as you got to his apartment, and he parked, walking over to open your door, looking like the cat killed the canary. 

“You can’t look like that after fingering me, Jeonghan.” You hissed, shoving his side. 

“I missed you too.” Jeonghan said, pushing your arms back to pull you into a tight hug. “I want movies and cuddles, and you can’t get away.” 

“Whatever you’d like.” You said, and he shut the door, grabbing your hand to hold, swinging it with the two of you. 

—-////—-

“Thank you, Joshua!” You called to the florist as you left, carrying a bouquet of roses. 

“Have fuuuuuun!” Joshua teased, looking amused at the pep in your step.

          Jeonghan had called you right after work, offering you a date. It had been to make up for having to pick his drunk ass up from Woozi’s the week before without warning. You headed to the restaurant he had offered, texting him that you were walking there, honestly wanting to go to his place instead that night.

          As you turned the corner, you grinned brightly, seeing Jeonghan, only to slow to a stop once you saw him talking to someone. It was his fucking ex, and he was fucking laughing at something she was saying. You took a breath to continue over and tell her to back up, but at the sight of her kissing him, you felt yourself wither. You dropped the flowers, the shaky breath you let out the only sound around you as your heart pounded in your ears. 

          You saw Jeonghan finally see you, and call for you, but you could only slowly back up, turning to walk away swiftly from the situation. After turning a few blocks, you jumped into a taxi, requesting it take you home immediately, a look of pity on his face as tears fell from your eyes.

—-////—-

          Your phone buzzed like crazy as you ignored it in favor of calling your friends, who showed up 10 minutes later, a bottle of wine in hand, giving you a big hug. You opted to chug from the bottle straight as one took your phone to read the texts with pursed lips, annoyed. 

“Can he take a fucking hint?” She asked, as the other nodded in agreement.

          Before you could respond, you heard a knock. One of your friends got up to check, and gave you a look. You sighed and got up, shooing your friends away, going over to open the door, and stepping outside with him. Jeonghan looked like a mess, with red eyes, and his clothes looked  like a mess.

“Can I help you?” You asked, voice hoarse. 

“I want to tell you exactly how everything went, so you get the full story, okay?” He said, nervous. You gave him a nod, and he continued. “When I got off of work, I headed to our reservation. She was outside, waiting for someone. I tried to avoid her, but she kissed me. I went after you, but you left so fast.”

“Yes,” You said. “Because I saw the two of you kissing. I wasn’t going to stay.” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t either,” He said, voice almost a whisper. “I didn’t kiss her back, I promise. She jumped onto me. I’d never do that to you.”

“I… I think she planned to see me,” He said, taking a shaky breath. “I started posting you with Woozi and Josh a ton recently, and Woozi mentioned her name was among people that had seen my post.”

“You should have told me.” You said, wiping your eyes. “The moment you noticed her, you should’ve told me. She knew what she was doing, and knew I’d see. I don’t blame you, baby,” you said, as he took a big sniffle, eyes watery. “I blame her. She’s the moron that left you, and I get you all to myself now.” You said, and he gave a watery laugh.

He hugged you tightly, kissing the top of your head. “If you want to know, I blocked her on everything, and so did the guys. And I threatened to take her to court over harassment if she won’t leave us, so hopefully it’s done and dealt with. But I’m very sorry. I should’ve called you, texted you, anything. I love you, seriously.” 

          You heard a noise of someone clearing their throat, and your friends gave a light wave to Jeonghan, who turned red, jumping back from you. 

“Sorry,” Your friend laughed. “We are gonna head out, okay?” 

          You gave a nod to them, as they said goodbye to you and Jeonghan, and warned him to take good care of you. You let him inside, and he called up somewhere to get you food, while you hung out on the couch, cuddled up in a blanket, scrolling through your phone.

“So, you tell her to back off?” You teased, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Please, I’m emotionally devastated from today. Give me a break.” He whined, and you laughed at him, giving him a kiss on his neck, as he squirmed.

“OH!” He shot up at the doorbell, shoving you away to grab the food. 

“How dare you.” You said, grabbing your order from him. 

          He grinned from his tteokbokki at you, sticking his tongue out. After shoveling your face for a good 20 minutes, you lay down on the couch, face first, and let out a sigh. Jeonghan sat next to you, and sighed.

“What a shame. If only I had a girlfriend to cuddle.” He said, and sighed again, louder. 

“Ah,” He jumped up, running over to his bag, and returning back to the couch. “This is for you.”

          You curled into his side and took the gift, giving him a look as you opened the box. As you opened it, Jeonghan clearly looked nervous, avoiding looking at your face, as you opened the black box that was inside of the gift, and nearly dropped it in shock. A shining, glittery ring stared up at you, and you stared up at Jeonghan, who gave you a kiss on your forehead. 

“I was going to ask you today at dinner,” He said. “But, then everything happened. I don’t want to wait.” He said, getting up to kneel at you in front of the couch. “I truly do love you, I promise. I can’t let you go.” 

          You nearly launched yourself off the couch to hug him, taking him down with you, and pulling the ring from the box to put it on. 

“You absolute moron, of course I’d marry you,” You blubbered, as he kissed your face. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, I don’t know why you’d think I’d say no.”

“I could tell a long time ago, but I didn’t expect you to ask me out.” He said. “Almost messed up my painting, and Joshua teased me for weeks. But I love you too.” He said.

“Quick, let’s take a picture. Rub it in Joshua’s face.” You said, sending a picture of the two of you with your ring, getting happy messages from the group in response.

          After a few pictures, Jeonghan stole your phone to throw it on the couch, and stared up at you with a playful smirk.

“What was that for?” You whined, and his eyes darkened, the lopsided grin on his face giving you butterflies.

“As much as I’d like to show off, I really want to fuck my fiance.” Jeonghan said, sitting up, and letting you wrap your legs around your waist.

          He let out a groan as he lifted the two of you up, muttering about how that was definitely the last time he’d ever do that, and carrying the two of you to your room. He dropped the both of you onto the bed with a grunt, and kissed you. You felt like your brain was floating, the only thing you could process being his lips over your skin. He kissed down your neck and you pulled his ponytail out, letting the blonde strands cover his face. 

          You nearly cried as he kissed you all over, feeling your heart swell. The love in each kiss given made you feel like an absolute queen, and the slow hands removing each article of clothing felt like feathers over your skin. Jeonghan sucked at your neck, creating bright red and purple marks, grinding his hips into yours. His hands glided across your stomach and to your back as he undid your bra, throwing it onto a chair across your room. He threw the rest of both of your clothes onto the same chair, and adjusted your hips, before diving down. 

          The moment his mouth met your mound, it was over. His hands held you down as he licked and sucked at you, moaning at the noises you made. The friction of the sheets against his hips felt like he couldn’t get any relief, and he reached down to rub at your clit, sighing at the shudder you let out, moans getting louder and louder with each flick of his tongue.

          The heat in your stomach was close to snapping, and within seconds, Jeonghan had pulled away. He licked his finger with a moan, watching your face, as you whined about the loss of his mouth, his fingers, anything - begging him to let you come.

“Only with me.” He said, before lining up to push into you, letting out a moan.

          He let out a shudder as he slotted himself completely, your insides feeling like butter against him, as he slowly rocked into your hips. He grabbed your hand to intertwine your fingers, the gems of your ring glittering in the moonlight. He could’ve come right then and there at the look on your face, instead burying his face into your neck. 

          You let out whines as he moved in you, the slow build of your orgasm coming back in full force.

“Baby,” You whined at Jeonghan, tugging at the blonde strands of his hair. “I want to come, please, Jeonghan. Can I, please?” You begged.

Jeonghan moaned, shifting to hit you deep, and all you could process was him giving the a-okay, before you felt your orgasm hit you like a thousand waves, his following right after. He didn’t let go of your hand until he got up to clean the both of you up, immediately returning to hold you as close as possible.

“I love you,” He whispered in the lightest tone, barely audible, and kissed your hair.

—-////—-

          Your fingers glided over the canvas, nailing the canvas onto the new stretcher, and placing the keys into the sides. You wrapped fishing wire to hold them in place, and made sure the frame was clean, and put it inside, using a dry brush to wipe down the piece, and put your card into the frame for the buyer.

“Y’know, I see why you like my hands now.” He said, and you froze, ears turning red. 

“Shush.” You said, and he grinned at you.

          You flicked a piece of wood at him and he grinned, dodging it, only for his smile to drop, seeing the buyer of the piece at the front office, and the secretary giving a sorry wince to the two of you. You grabbed the piece and headed up front, a tight smile on your face as you handed the piece over for Jeonghan’s ex to look at, and she nodded slowly.

“Thank you.” She said, turning to Jeonghan. “What other pieces do you work on? And can we set up a system for you to receive and give any pieces we work on?” She said, and you nearly scoffed at the flirty look.

“You can email our boss to see if we have an open spot, but we do not do home calls.” You said, tight lipped. 

          She frowned as she finished signing her receipt, and you gave a bright smile as you finished up, holding out your hand for her to shake, but she did so, only to freeze part way through, seeing the ring on your finger. You squeezed her hand and she winced, and you let go. 

“Have a great day!” You cheerfully said, waving as she left, clearly upset. 

          You turned to see Jeonghan giving you a look, raising a brow. You shrugged at him with a bright smile and he laughed, grabbing your hand, and swinging it as he led you back to his office.

“What?” You asked, playing stupid, as he kissed you, the air nearly leaving your lungs at the harsh kiss. 

“Gotta be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He said, grinning at you, and brushing a thumb against your lips. “But seriously, can we just get married tomorrow? I’ve gotta be your husband. If that’s how you act as my fiance, I’ve- wait, where are you going? Don’t leave me! I didn’t know you were possessive! We’ve gotta talk about this!”

[rolling-storm-writing]

I'd like to request Tonowari x Top Male reader. Tonowari and reader have been dating for years and finally decide that they are going to mate. Just a lot of fluffy mating stuff.

Tonowari x Top!M!Reader

A/N: Soooo I know I’ve gotten some previous avatar requests and I swear I’ve seen them- I’m just scared y’all!! I want that Ronal/Tonowari too I’m just really intimidated because I wanna do these characters justice.  Especially after my recent lack luster works (I’m just not personally happy with them). So I hope this one is a bit better- I haven’t written anything like this in a very very long time.

>>>>>(+18 CONTENT SO MDNI!!)<<<<<<<

There was always something so serene about the ocean something that you could never quite place.  The gentle waves and rough seas enchanted and frightened you in the same beautiful feeling.  The ocean was your second home the place of abyss where the dangers of land could never reach.  

“The perfect day…” came his cool voice from just behind you a sweet jazz sound your ears always turned to.  You turned to look at his beautiful form, his dark curled hair splayed out down his shoulder and tattooed face turned up in a warm smile.  You loved the way his eyes narrowed and cheeks rounding when he smiled, almost able to hear his deep full laugh clear as the blue tide pools.

This night was a special one for the two of you after years of courting you would finally be mated.  It was a long time coming and neither one of you could contain this excitement.  Despite his success and firm demeanor Tonowari was actually quite shy and anxious about his love for you.  A trait you both shared after separate shared heat breaks from failed couplings in the past.

He carried your heart as if it were made of finest sea glass and you’d done the same for him as well.  And now after so much your hearts would finally become one…

“You ready?” He nodded taking your hand as you led him back inside.  This was evening was just for the two of you and eywa to witness and cherish.

Your home is a little way from the main village and just above the water, it’s a small but comfortable dwelling that Tonowari adds to by just being here.  It all becomes more real when the two of you sat together his blue eyes filled with nervousness and excitement.

“You're shaking," you say, in a gentle whisper.  You’re slow to touch him even now, your hands cradling the sides of his face with an almost ghostly feel.  He’s warm against you, noses nuzzled as you brought his forehead to yours.  

“I’m happy”

The waiver in his voice was clear as day.  You’d both struggled in the past with a relationship and after so much growth, you’d be taking that final step together.  “I am to” your own voice just a quiet secret as you brought your braid to his.  His gasping was the first thing you heard then his folded ears when you opened your eyes.

His pupils blown wide as he stared back at you with the same surprise.  “Do I look silly?” He chuckled rising to his knees with you eagerly pulling him into you.  “You look perfect…” all you could see was him, all your oxygen became him, your entire being belonged to him.

His breath hitched as you loosened the ties of his loins, the garment easily slipped off and laid to the side for later.  Tonowari was a large man by Na’vi standards and that also extended to the lower extremity he had.  But when compared to you he felt like a small thing to be brushed away.  Your cock is larger than his by any measure and for a moment he looked at you with questionable eyes.

“I’ll be gentle” you promise. Tonowari nodded and lent over, his plush lips fitting perfectly with yours.  You kissed him for another moment longer, savoring the taste of him. You trail from his neck all the way down the soft muscles of his chest.  

“You’re so beautiful…” affirming your words with a kiss to each of his nipples.  He’s splayed out on his back shuddering underneath you in a matter of seconds as you get lower.  

Swallowing the tip into your mouth and sucking gently.  His moan is a loud deep whimper, and you hold his thighs at the small jolt of his hips.  “More…please” he groans out a hand curling into the strands of your hair, you take him deeper until his length hits the back of your throat.  

You’re almost tempted to let him cum, but not just yet. 

You pull off him with a grin on your face.  Precum dripping down your chin as Tonowari looks at you through heavy eyes.  Leaning over you reach to kiss him, it’s sloppy mess but neither one of you complain.

Your fingers are slick with oil as you work him open, adding another digit with each ask for more.   His hole a beautifully blushed purple as you finish working him open, fluttering, clenching, and begging to be filled.

“Ready?”

“More than…”

Being generous would be a loose statement, your cock slicked with oil and even more on Tonowari.  He looked so beautiful this way, legs spread and raised with you perfectly between them.  

Tonowari felt the warm weight of your dick being dragged up and down his loose and ready hole. Pre-come was slicking up his cheeks along with the oil.  Your slow thrust was enough to drive him mad before you finally entered him.

A deep moan left his lips as he felt your cock rub against his rim and the head push inside.  You were big and even with prep this was gonna take a minute.  Looking down his hole was stretched beautifully around you, his breathing heavy with every inch deeper you got.

His arm wrapped over your neck as he moaned and whined into your shoulder.

And after brief moment you bottomed out heavy balls on his ass.  eyes crossed from how full he felt.

“So good…” you were both breathless and sweaty, and his comment made you chuckle he felt good as well.  There was no rush in waiting for him to adjust letting those heavy thighs wrap around you a little tighter.

His lips peppering your neck as you slowly pulled out so only the head was left inside. 

Pushing back in fucking him nice and slow.  You cock dragging against Tonowari’s swollen insides with every back and forth thrust of your hips, striking his prostate with each thrust. His mouth on yours and the warm wet of his tongue only heightened the feeling.  

He clutched at you even tighter pulling you in as close as possible; his own leaking cock, rubbing against your stomach and smearing it with precum.

His moans lost in the swell of muddled senses and all you felt was him.  He had invaded every one of them, his heart beating with yours, his very being. And Tonowari couldn’t do anything but feel and taste you, lost in how good it felt to have you on and inside him.

“I’m close” you moaned against his lips as Tonowari brought his legs up higher making you sink further into him.  His hole clenching down tighter around your aching cock.  

“Inside please” he whined bitting into the meat of your shoulder, his warm tears leaving their mark.

You emptied inside of him with a satisfied groan, falling forward onto Tonowari’s cum-slicked chest.  Your cock throbbed with each rope of cum that painted his insides, you were both left desperately clinging to the other a tangled mess of men.

His legs fell from your waist as they trembled from the orgasm that ripped through the both of you.

The both of you… 

———————————————

A/N: Im so scared to actually read this back so I hope y’all like it! Feed back, comment, and critique is always welcome. Yes my requests are open so send one in if you have any, I have a few ideas for a certain clone force 99 brewing.

BUT! in the mean time I hope you enjoyed and don’t forget your umbrella.

[bigmusclenm]

Give or Take - Part 1

[Story Collection] | [●] [Part 2]

Bryce stepped out of his apartment building, and his curly brown hair fell across his forehead, partially hiding his olive eyes. He brushed his hair out of the way and adjusted his jacket as he descended the short front stairs. He knew it wasn’t the best time to go out for a walk, but he needed some space to think about his own life. He longed for a peaceful moment alone. He had always hated the phrase ‘existential crisis’, but he was currently struggling with multiple issues, leaving him questioning his current and future life.

At 26 years old, Bryce Harrington was an average young man who worked 8 hours a day as a Data Entry Clerk at a Research and Survey Firm. His job could easily be done by a computer, but he was grateful the firm had hired him to do it. It wasn’t the most exciting job, but he needed the money. His monotonous job played a role in his current existential crisis. However, his recently failed attempt to gain muscle mass was the major problem, resulting in a tense relationship with his roommate.

As Bryce walked down an empty street, completely alone, he thought about the events of the previous year that had led him into his current existential crisis. He had signed up for the local gym to build muscle. He wasn’t a size queen like most guys at the gym, but he wanted to see his body progressively grow. It was more about observing the progress than achieving a final result, but after a year of extreme efforts, his body was still the same.

The hurtful disappointment resulting from his lack of results felt even worse every time Bryce stared at his roommate, Mason, who had joined the gym about two months after Bryce. Starting as a somewhat chubby 6’4” man, Mason began seeing great results within a few weeks. While Bryce struggled to gain at least a pound, Mason transformed into a sexy, muscular man in just a few months. That visible transformation was precisely what Bryce longed for, but Mason got the reward.

Mason wasn’t the biggest or most imposing guy around, but for Bryce, their size difference seemed unfair. Standing at 5’8” and having reached his max at 130 pounds, Bryce had reasons to feel as though Mason had achieved more than he should have. Mason’s size and newfound confidence made him constantly stay shirtless inside their apartment, unaware that it infuriated Bryce. He had only joined the gym because Bryce had invited him, so he thought his roommate would be proud of his gains. Instead, Mason’s growth left Bryce envious and resentful toward Mason. These thoughts made Bryce feel like the worst friend ever.

Lost in his own thoughts, Bryce found himself standing at the entry of a dark alley, and he started pacing in circles. He wanted to be mad at Mason, but deep inside, he knew his roommate hadn’t given him a reason to be. Mason had been incredibly supportive throughout Bryce’s failed attempts to grow, even encouraging him to keep working out despite it being clearly useless. Bryce genuinely appreciated Mason’s kindness, but it didn’t change how he felt about him.

“Damn it! Stupid Mason and his great genetics. And his fucking annoying kindness. Fuck!” Bryce shouted out, kicking a small rock into the dark alley in frustration. “Universe, I just need a sign. Send something or someone, or…” Bryce talked out loud, but his words were interrupted by a booming voice.

“Bryce Aldaris Harrington,” a loud, deep, supernatural male voice echoed through the alley, sending shivers down Bryce’s spine. Nobody knew his strange middle name except his parents, so hearing it in a dark alley was quite scary.

“Who… who said that? How do you know my name?” Bryce said quietly, trying to sound brave but shaking in fear.

Bryce’s heart was beating fast, but he needed to know who knew his name. Despite his fear, he walked into the creepy, dark alley. Thick clouds obscured the moonlight, and he couldn’t see much. The strong smell of dampness made Bryce frown. Only the sounds of his own footsteps resounded through the alley, but suddenly, a thunder-like sound filled the alley. Shivers crawled up his spine, making him freeze in place and not letting him run away in horror.

The alley started getting colder suddenly, and a strange sensation made Bryce regret leaving the apartment. For an instant, he longed to be back with the annoyingly hot, shirtless Mason. As Bryce started panting in fear, he noticed that each breath he exhaled quickly turned into a misty cloud that disappeared after a few seconds. The place was cold, and that wasn’t normal.

When Bryce finally found the courage to turn around and head for the alley’s exit, he couldn’t take a single step because a tall figure emerged from the darkness about 10 feet away in front of him. The silhouette was imposing—much taller than Bryce’s average height—but at least it looked human. The figure was covered by an old, worn cloak that didn’t let Bryce discern any features, but as it got closer, Bryce could make out some details.

“Bryce Aldaris Harrington, I’ve been waiting for you.” The deep male voice echoed through the alley again, but this time Bryce knew it came from the tall figure approaching him.

The closer the mysterious man got, the more Bryce was amazed by his imposing size and how he seemed to loom over his small body. Even though Bryce couldn’t see his face yet because of the hood of his cloak, the darkness only accentuated the bright yellow eyes that gleamed with a supernatural light. As Bryce locked eyes with the huge man, he felt like electricity was going through his entire body, simultaneously making him feel pain and power.

“It’s time for you to discover who you are,” the towering, cloaked man declared, grabbing Bryce’s right hand and intensifying the pain and surge of power going through his body. “Bryce, son of Aldar, the first Great Gifter, you were chosen to carry an ancient power.”

“No! Stop! Stop! Let me go!” Bryce managed to say between deep groans, as his entire body felt like it was on fire.

Bryce could see nothing. While he was in pain, yellow sparks were traveling through his body, making it look like he was being electrocuted. His eyes started gleaming brightly, changing from olive green to yellow. As his eyes illuminated even more, he saw visions of unfamiliar places he could barely recognize. Ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia, Babylon, Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, Ancient China, and many others—all the names Bryce had encountered in history class—the vision took him there from the perspective of the mysterious cloaked man.

“You were chosen to bring balance among the men of this generation. You will have the ability to change men’s physical forms at your command. You will have the power to manipulate reality and alter their pasts. You’ll become The Great Gifter to the weak, but you will take away from those who see themselves as strong. However, this power comes at a cost for you. Your actions toward others will affect you. If you give, you’ll receive, but if you take, you’ll lose. Be careful, Bryce, son of Aldar; your daily actions will be listed and accumulated, and they will transform you overnight,” the cloaked man said, and even though Bryce was in immense pain, he somehow registered every word the man had spoken. Bryce understood the essence and implications of this power.

As the cloaked man finally released Bryce’s hand, the young man fell to the ground, surrounded by steam. He still felt hot, but at least the pain had stopped. Bryce was panting heavily, and his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. His limbs were sore, but it wasn’t that bad. Despite how weird his body felt, his mind was overwhelmed by his just-acquired knowledge. He didn’t know how it had happened, but now he knew he could make other men grow or shrink just by thinking about it. However, this had a direct impact on his own body. If he made others grow, his own body would grow, but if he made others shrink, his own body would shrink.

“Man, I need expla…” Bryce said, looking up and realizing he was completely alone. “...nations. What the hell? Hey! ‘Scary Shazam’, where did you go? You can’t leave me just like that. I have questions. Man…?” Bryce insisted, but no one was there to answer.

He instantly got on his feet and started looking around, feeling even more scared now that the man had vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. There was no evidence to prove that it hadn’t been a hallucination. The only indication that the pain and the whole scene had been real was the steam emanating from his heated body. Everything else felt like a weird dream or a brief moment of insanity. Even then, deep inside him, he knew everything about the power the cloaked man had bestowed upon him.

“I’m unsure if I’ve finally lost my mind or if it was all real.” Bryce talked to himself as he quickly walked out of the alley, trying to act cool even though he was still in shock. “I guess the only way to find out is by trying, but who...” Bryce stopped as he thought about Mason. The guy had definitely gained more muscle mass than he deserved, so it would only be fair to take some size from him. “No, no, he’s my friend. I can’t do that to him. Or can I?”

Bryce's heart was split. Part of him knew Mason didn’t deserve to lose the size he had worked so hard for, especially because he wasn’t a bad guy. He knew that the power was meant to punish only those who used their size for bad purposes, which wasn’t Mason’s case. The more Bryce thought about it, the more he opposed the idea of shrinking Mason’s muscles. The only other way to try his newly acquired power was to give Mason some size, which would result in Bryce’s body also growing. That seemed like a better idea.

On his way back to the apartment, Bryce pondered the potential consequences the power could have on his body. He knew that every time he increased a man’s size, his own body would grow by ¼ of that size. Being someone who worked with statistics and numbers every day, he did the math and realized that if he gave Mason 12 pounds of muscle, his own body would only gain 3 pounds. This sounded like a small gain for Bryce, but for Mason, it would be a more significant difference. Bryce groaned in anger as he realized his little experiment would only increase the size difference between them.

For a few seconds, he thought about waiting till the morning to find another guinea pig, but he knew he needed to change someone before bed. He was aware that his power would work overnight. He could spend the entire day thinking about growing men, but the changes would happen overnight. The men would grow while they slept, just like Bryce’s body would do. Additionally, only Bryce and the person directly affected by his power would be aware of the change, meaning that for everybody else, the person who had grown or shrunk had always been that way. The more Bryce thought about it, the more he understood the cloaked man’s words.

By the time he arrived at the apartment, Bryce already had a plan. He had finally decided to use the power to grow Mason and gain some size himself. Even though he hated to think about an even bigger Mason, the fact that his roommate would be aware of the change and very likely scared of it was a fun touch to Bryce’s plan. As Bryce entered the apartment, he couldn’t hide the devilish grin on his face.

"Hey, Bry, I was getting worried. I thought something bad had happened to you,” Mason said, sitting on the couch, shirtless as always. His nicely shaped arms, bulging pecs, and abs were on full display for Bryce to observe.

“Why would something bad happen to me? Is it because I’m short and thin?” Bryce replied angrily as he passed by the couch.

“No, no… I didn’t say that, and I didn’t mean anything like that. I was just worried. You know I care about you… I mean, you’re my friend,” Mason said, standing up from the couch to face Bryce.

As Mason blocked his way, Bryce observed his annoyingly good-looking roommate’s well-defined body. Mason was tall and had naturally broad shoulders that looked even better with his deltoids bulging nicely. His pecs looked full but not huge yet. His abs were perfectly defined, very different from his previously pudgy midsection. His waist was narrow, but his hips were somewhat wide, making him look hot. Then, as Bryce looked up into Mason’s honey-colored eyes, he couldn’t deny that the young man was handsome. His messy, dirty blonde hair was the perfect touch for his pretty and masculine face. 

“Mason, I’m fine. Okay? You don’t have to worry about me. Now, get out of my way and go get a shirt before you catch a cold,” Bryce said as he pushed Mason aside, making the tall man frown.

“I was just worried; is that bad?” Mason said, sounding hurt, which made Bryce stop on his way to his room.

“Dude, I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need a bodyguard, and even if I did, I’d want someone bigger,” Bryce said, turning around to face Mason. The hurt on the tall man’s face was evident. “You know what? Grow 50 pounds of muscles, and then maybe I’ll let you be my bodyguard. Deal?”

As soon as these words came out of Bryce’s mouth, the world stopped for a second, and a supernatural-holographic text box appeared between him and Mason. The box contained Mason’s stats and measurements. Bryce didn’t know about this part, and he was surprised because the power was ancient. He didn’t know this was possible, but he just smiled and read Mason’s information.

“Name: Mason Austin Jameson Age: 25 years, 10 months, and 7 days Height: 6’4” Weight: 190.2 pounds”

There was more detailed information about Mason, but at the moment, the general stats were all Bryce needed to know. As the text box disappeared again, he realized Mason hadn’t noticed anything, and not a second had passed.

“Whatever,” Mason said, sounding angry, as he started walking to his bedroom, looking sad. “If I get 50 pounds heavier, you’ll hate me even more. See you in the morning, buddy. I’m glad you’re fine,” Mason added before walking into his room and slamming the door behind him.

“I’m better than ever before.” Bryce smiled devilishly again and walked into his own room.

As he collapsed on his bed, Bryce realized he had just granted Mason 50 pounds of muscle, which was way more than he had gained over the 10 months he had been working out. It was definitely a big change, but it also meant 12.5 pounds of muscle for Bryce, which was 12.5 more than the pounds he had gained after a year of hard work at the gym. It didn’t sound like much, but it was only to test his power. He needed to know if it actually worked so he could grow many others to see the transformation he had desired so much finally. And about Mason, he could always shrink him later.

Bryce was so excited about growing overnight that he had trouble falling asleep. He felt his heart beating fast with excitement, and his mind couldn’t stop thinking about the endless possibilities. Many ideas came to mind as he realized he could change the dynamics of society. Mason was only the first step in the balance he would bring into the world.

Even at work, there was a man who had been hired just a few months before and, due to his size and good looks, had recently been promoted. This resulted in him bullying some of Bryce's coworkers. He seemed like a perfect candidate for losing some of his size, but Bryce had to consider the consequences because that would mean losing some of his own size too. It was complicated, but he was willing to test The Great Gifter’s powers.

[darkdemeter]

FLOWERS FROM MY LOVER

CUT PROLOGUE TURNED TEASER EXCERPT FROM LOVERS IN EDEN CHAPTER 2, COMING SOON...

NOTIFICATION LIST

@nsilvers-personal-treasury

Her heart’s desire. Somewhere that humanity would be protected from the reaches of Heaven, Hell and the Council. Fury sets upon a journey across the cosmos, a liquid landscape of starlight and darkened, inky oceans that swirl in a calming abyss that hum with a beating force. It drones in her ears peacefully. The humans charged under her guardianship venture with her, following her. She leads the way to their new home. But where? 

She musters images of serenity. Somewhere like earth. Green and hospitable, a safe where the dirt doesn’t stir with broken ash upon a mere touch but insead, the soil is rich with growth and can supply an abundance of crops. A haven where they can rest themselves and gather their strength, forge the foundations of their home to build their life anew and reclaim their numbers. 

But all thoughts of such a wonderful place are banished. Overtaken by the distorted and cruel memories of her past. Lands of rolling, green pastures turn to barren wastes, smoke travels in winding spirals until they come together as a large, looming cloud above without promise of anything else but a polluted visage of darkness. All the places she wanted to be safe weren’t good enough. Haunted by the past, she cannot find that safe haven and she, along with the ethereal energies that go with her, begin to falter in their travels. 

Ugh, why is this so hard? Why can’t I find somewhere safe for them?

Her heart pounds hard in the cavern of her chest. She begins to rush through the process, impatient that for once, she tries to do the right thing only to fail. Was she truly suited for this purpose, to serve as their protector? 

Fury.

Her eyes pry open quickly, widened. Someone or something spoke to– no, through her. Fury feels her body become weightless in the grasp of whatever power that guides her. She willingly chooses to follow it instead of being led like some dog. The souls of the humans gather close to her,  following her direction with clinging desperation to not get lost. To not be left behind.

It’s safe here. Come. 

Fury’s body succumbs to the shudder that pulses through her body, leaving her nauseous and weak. Her eyes become heavy, drooping as the calm, soft lull of the voice pulls her through the white light at the end of the tunnel where the twinkling lights of stars and dancing halos fuse closely together. 

Pulled through and vision covered entirely, her head falls back, her hair fluttering in a column of fiery, tapering locks. 

She descends slowly, the phantom hold she feels around her carefully moves to lower her into a bed of a softened texture. It caresses her skin with a comforting tenderness. Her eyes are so heavy. Even when she tries to keep them open, to will herself to stand up and see to the humans in her care, her body has grown exhausted. 

She feels warm under the glowing pale of the sun that paints over her. The scented perfume of flowers fills her senses and further blankets her with promise. This place is safe. This is her heart’s desire. She hasn’t even seen a single detail of this world and yet she knows it is right. It is all that the humans will need. Perhaps what she and her brothers will need, if they ever see each other again…

How she yearns to be with her brothers and finally to be united together. She has seen the error of her selfish wants. Lust had been right, what it was she lusted for was a sin all her own. She continues to learn from her mistakes but some feel incapable of mending. 

I’m so tired…

Her mouth cranes open to yawn, her cheek turning inward to the touch of the lily petals. The shadow that hovers over her is unseen by her, finally able to rest peacefully in this bed of flowers. This serene home. 

“Welcome home, Fury. Sleep now… you have earned it.”

Fingers tethered to a gentle hand move down to brush a stream of hair from Fury’s face. An even kinder gaze watches her, fond and hopeful that the Horseman may finally find her respite here. A breeze envelops the field of lilies, their petals lean with a swaying dance and Fury’s breath slows, her heart no longer rapping hard and instead settles. 

Wherever this new home is, it is nice. Beautiful. She hopes her brothers will get to see it soon. 

This unseen form wanders, steps adrift to leave Fury to sleep amidst the flowery meadow. The humans returned to their physical bodies, gasping and eyes widened, the spiritual verse uncontained by a physical vessel one that they do not experience often. 

Silently, the host that resides in this world as its caretaker lifts a finger to rest on the curve of her lips, inaudibly swearing the humans to secrecy. 

Her identity will be revealed… all in due time. Until then, she turns on a wayward path towards the half bending sun that sets upon the horizon. The veiling whites of her robes flutter in the wind, drawing around her body gracefully. Her bare feet move along slowly, her eyes shimmer with a warm glisten and she continues to smile. In her embrace, she nurses a bundle of freshly plucked lilies, the dark smears of ash and decay fading away and ready for their planting among the many in the field. 

“Thank you for the flowers, my love.”

[sunarinscat]

(tw: scars, angst to fluff. inspired by this playlist)

When you learned that Izuku's scars were an insecurity of his you were taken back. The hues painted across his body were beautiful to you. He had gained them by protecting and defending those who couldn't protect themselves. He had amassed them as he fought to become a symbol of safety and peace, a beacon of light in a dark time for everyone. You hated the fact that he seemed to fall across harm's way wherever he went. But you could never hate the scars it left behind. You could only look at his beautiful form and wish you could have taken that pain for him.

So why was it that as you held him in your arms tonight, he asked with gentle tears and muted sobs how you could ever love him in his hideous body? Why was it that he confessed he felt disfigured and ruined, far to mutilated to be deserving of your love? Why was it that he believed his torn and battered figure wasn't good enough for you?

You could feel your own tears slip across your face as your gentle hands clasped his head and begged him to realize how beautiful he was. You brushed his hair out of his face and told him just how you saw him. You could hardly put it into words, the way you interpreted Izuku Midoriya, but you scrambled to explain it. Yes, his scars were beautiful, but he was so much more than the marks across his skin. In your eyes he was an angel. Out of desperation you finally choked out the words:

"Let me show you."

In the golden glow of the candlelight, you kissed every scar on his body. You took your time too, telling him exactly what you loved about him in between each one. Then you painted exactly what you wish you could've put into words.

Your brush smoothed across his patterned skin, as flowers bloomed down his back. Stars danced across his chest, and colors across his arms. An array of primroses, lavender, sunflowers, and daisies sprouted from each scar symbolizing the growth and the love they represented. He had loved people he never knew so much he had taken these scars for them, but somehow, he wasn't deserving of love? You had to undo that lie.

The brush tickled and the paint was cold, but he never complained. Instead, his soft sobs slowly turned to hushed laughter as he whispered across the room, telling you tales about where he had come by each mark. You learned about his days at UA and smiled as you thought about little Izuku training so hard to handle the power of his quirk. In the light his shoulders untensed and he leaned into your touch. He smiled and hummed as you painted, feeling the cool breeze brush through the curtains and across his colorful skin. With each brush stroke you dismissed his doubts, and watched as he slowly began to relax.

When you chirped that you were all done and led him to the mirror to see, tears sprung back to his eyes. He smoothed his fingers across the mural painted across his skin and traced each of the stars dotting his chest with his hands. He turned to you and drew you near, resting his hands on your jaw. He brought his forehead to yours and promised that as long as you would have him, he'd never let you go. You smiled into his touch, reveling in the feeling. You knew you'd be willing to have him as long as you lived. You matched your breath to his and rested quietly in his arms. Your fingers wandered over your work. He pulled away to watch you for a moment, before leaning back in to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too Izu."

reblogs are appreciated <3

[valkyriepirate]

Literally copy pasting this here 😭get ready for screaming!

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE WRITE A FIC WHERE READER IS A MAGIZOOLOGIST WORKING FOR MACUSA AND HER AND NEWT END UP INVESTIGATING THE SAME CREATURE AND HE GETS THERE AFTER HER SO WHEN THEY MEET ITS JUST LIKE THE SPIDER-MAN MEME

Thanks @ghostyv for this idea! I only hope I did it justice hehe 😅

Newt Scamander x Reader One Shot- Two of a Feather

Summary: You're in Sweden on a mission from MACUSA to track down a rare breed of dragon. However, you run into a certain Magizoologist in the forest, disturbing those plans.

Warnings: Mentions of creature violence, fluff

Word count: 3.4k words

#3- Two of a Feather 

Dried twigs crunched underneath your feet as you crept deeper into the brush. The soil beneath was loose and soft; it had recently been disturbed. The late-spring snow had finally begun to melt, dripping from the trees like clinquant teardrops and soaking into the dirt below, making it all too easy for you to follow the dragon’s tracks.  

You bent and touched your fingers to the outline of a clawed footprint. Tracing the length of the claws, you assumed it to be male. You scooped up a chunk of the mud and brought it to your nose. It was nearby, and from the size of the print, reasonably young.  

You followed the path farther into the forest, picking your way along the rocky terrain. Sweden was stunning this time of year, with its cool winds, crystal skies, and vibrant growth that sprouted along the mountainsides like hope unveiled after an abiding winter. The air was sweet and earthy, flowing between the trees and gently caressing your skin with what felt like friendship. You were thankful that MACUSA had commissioned you to do research someplace so enchanting- truthfully, you were thankful that MACUSA had commissioned you to do something at all.  

The tracks led up to a large stone jutting from the cliffside and abruptly disappeared. Adeptly, you heaved yourself onto the stone and got into a crouch, pushing past a few intruding brambles. Beyond was a small clearing.  

Your keen gaze swept the landscape for any sign of the beast. The Swedish Short-Snout was traditionally silvery blue, and given that there was little snow left, there were scant places for it to camouflage. You quieted your breaths and kept impeccably still.  

There. A rustling above caused your head to snap up. A blur of white layered the top of one of the branches. To anyone else, it would have appeared to be a remnant of snow that refused to melt. But you, an experienced Magizoologist of over two decades, could see it for what it truly was.  

Carefully, you reached into the pocket of your olive-green coat and pulled out your coin purse and wand. The dragon was too high for a summoning spell to be effective, and its size was slightly too big to try traditional wrangling methods- you gauged it to be a foot or so longer than you were tall and twice as wide. You had to get closer.  

You edged to the rim of the outcropping, fluffing your coin purse. The dragon seemed to be sleeping. Its scales glinted in the early morning light, changing from silver to blue as you moved. Its pronged tail was looped around the tree branch, lethargically swinging back and forth. A tiny blue flame puffed from its nostrils with every breath and evaporated into smoke. It was dangerously beautiful. Short-Snouts weren’t known to kill humans, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be aggressive if provoked.  

You stuck your arm in your coin purse up to the elbow, rummaging around for your broom. The size of the purse should have been hardly able to accommodate your hand, but a certain capacious extremis spell allowed you to bend the laws of physics. Your fingers found purchase and you slid out your broom.  

“Alright, friend, this ought to be quick,” you whispered jovially as you got ready to hop on your broom.  

Snap. Your head whipped around at the sound. It came from somewhere to your right. You went still once again, the hairs on your arms raised. 

You were not alone.  

You waited a few heartbeats, remaining in a crouch. The dragon twitched. Then- 

Movement. You glimpsed a splash of dark blue slip between the trees. From here you couldn’t make out the shape, but you knew that whatever it was, you couldn’t let it scare the dragon away. You scaled down the rock like a lithe squirrel, dropping soundlessly to the ground, and stepped into the clearing.  

At the same time, a man emerged from the trees.  

You were so surprised to see another human being out here in the wilderness that you let out a nearly imperceptible gasp. The man, whose eyes had been locked on the dragon, snapped to you.  

You stared at each other in startled silence. From the look on his face, he clearly thought he’d been alone. Neither of you moved.  

A twinge of recognition tickled the back of your mind. He furrowed his brow and pointed at you thoughtfully as if resemblance had struck him then too. Who else would be out here tracking a Swedish Short-Snout except...? 

Above, the dragon growled in its sleep. You stole another glance at the man across the clearing, and, ignoring the familiarity prodding you in the spine, took a step towards the tree with the dragon. No matter who this man was, he was likely here for the same reason as you, and you couldn’t let him get to the dragon first.  

You padded across the clearing as lightly as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the man was doing the same.

You had almost reached the trunk of the tree when another snap echoed throughout the forest. The dragon was awake in a blink, unfurling wings the color of diamonds, soaring above the forest canopy in a searing streak of silver. With a cry, it unleashed a gust of blue flame upon the crowns of the trees, incinerating them to ashes within seconds. Hastily, you threw your arms in front of your face to shield against the heat. By the time you looked back up, the dragon was gone.   

Biting down on your frustration, you whirled on the man, your braid whipping around your face. “Who are you?” 

His eyes were wide and as green as the lake at the base of the mountain. He was dressed rather smartly in a cobalt blue trench coat, custard bowtie, and pressed slacks. In one hand he gripped a faded red suitcase. 

“Newt Scamander, and you are?” he said, shifting awkwardly on his feet. 

The name struck a chord in you. Of course. Straightening, you laughed and shook your head. “I should’ve assumed. No one else would be crazy enough to be out here except a fellow Magizoologist.” You held out your hand for him to shake. “(Y/N) (L/N). Pleased to meet you.” 

“I figured,” he said shyly, not meeting your eyes. “You’re the only other known Magizoologist to ever make headlines.” 

“Hardly,” you said. “Being criticized in the Daily Prophet for smelling of wild Diricawl isn’t exactly something worthy of note.” 

The corner of his lips ticked up. “I’ve been accused of worse, I assure you.”  

“Have you?” you said as you repocketed your broom. “I must admit I haven’t been following the news of Grindelwald.” 

“It may be best that you don’t. Journalists can get carried away with certain topics.” 

“Ah, I see. Still, it’s refreshing to finally meet the only other one of my kind. Your work on Fantastic Beasts was quite profound.” 

Newt blushed. “You’ve read it?” 

“Of course. Every aspiring Magizoologist should. Everyone should,” you amended. “The more people who know the importance of what we do, the better. Though I’m curious...” You took a step closer to him. “Why are you tracking the Swedish Short-Snout?” 

“Research, mostly,” he replied. “I’m working to expand the section on dragons in my textbook for the next revision.” 

“Oh? What do you expect to find?” 

“Any fluctuation in behavior, danger level, or abilities, really.” He paused. “If I may ask, why are you tracking the Swedish Short-Snout?” 

“MACUSA sent me for the same reason as you. Research. Except I was directed to bring the dragon back safely, which, evidently-” You waved your hand in the general direction the dragon had gone- “may take longer than I’d expected.” 

“Oh. Yes. I’m quite sorry about that.” Newt’s cheeks grew redder, making his smattering of freckles stand out like little stars. 

You grinned. “If you’d like, you can accompany me in tracking him down again.” 

“I’d like that very much.” He briefly locked eyes with you through his mop of ruddy hair. 

You walked back to the tree where the dragon had been. The entire top half was a charred stump sprinkling ashes into the wind. Pointing your wand at the snow-covered branch, you chanted, “Appare vestigium.” The ashes swirled and formed a tendril that drooped down into the clearing, swept past you and Newt, and slithered up the north side of the mountain, a conspiratorial phantasm showing you the way.  

You squatted and dug your fingers into the earth, pulling up a gooey glob of dirt. Working your jaw, you spat on it and promptly kneaded it between your palms like a salve. Then you rolled up your sleeves and smeared your concoction over your neck, arms, and face- wherever your skin was exposed to the air. Newt watched you but didn’t seem concerned by your odd behavior.  

“Hiding your scent,” he marveled. “Brilliant.” 

“An important step in all the best captures. Don’t worry,” you said, wiggling your mud-caked fingers. “You’re next.” 

“Oh- I, uh- I don’t know if that’ll be necessary,” he protested, but you were already hustling over. You grabbed him by the wrists and pushed up his coat sleeves, scrubbing the mixture over the bare skin of his forearms. He started at your touch but otherwise kept still as you scooped up more dirt and rubbed it into his jawline. 

“There,” you patted his cheek, leaving behind a hand-shaped mud print. “Let’s go, shall we?” 

Newt looked like he had a Billywig stuck in his throat. He nodded. Without a word, he trekked after you as you followed the line of smoke up the ravine.  

“How...often does MACUSA send you to study creatures?” he inquired after a few minutes of silence, apparently having regained his voice. 

You pursed your lips. “Not often, unfortunately. Maybe once or twice a year. Most of the time I’m more of a ‘pest control’ expert to them than anything. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve been called in to manage a Chizpurfle infestation in someone’s wand closet.” 

He laughed quietly. “Yes, it seems it’s hard for many wizards to take Magizoology seriously.” 

“You and I can change that, can we not?” You hoisted yourself up and over another stone. “When I was a little girl, I thought I was the only one who cared about beasts, who saw them as something more than an inconvenience or tool. Then I grew up and I heard about a boy from England who had a whole suitcase full of them.”  

You could sense him nearly stop in his tracks. “O-oh. So you-” 

“Yes, Mr. Scamander,” you said, shooting him a sly grin over your shoulder, “I know that’s no regular briefcase.” 

“Yes. I mean, no, I suppose it’s not.” 

Unable to contain your curiosity, you asked, “Is it true that you keep a Nundu?”   

He was quiet for a few beats. “Nundu are scrupulously hard to catch, and even more so to contain.” 

“So you do?” 

“Among other creatures.” 

A thrum of excitement rushed through your veins. You’d heard rumors of the kinds of beasts Newt Scamander kept in his suitcase, of course, but the prospect of being so close to ones you’d only ever read about piqued your interest. You wondered if he would give you a look inside if you asked.  

“In fact, that’s why I think it would be best if the Short-Snout came with me.” 

It was your turn to halt. The trail of ashes was thinning, disappearing over the crest of the next hill. It seemed the dragon hadn’t flown far. You turned and studied your fellow Magizoologist- the only other known one on the planet. “You want to take the Short-Snout with you?” 

He tilted on his feet again, denying to meet your gaze. “Yes.” 

You fought down the competitive burn rising in your throat. You had deducted as much- after all, he likely wouldn’t have come to Sweden just to admire the dragon- but that, unfortunately, was something you couldn’t afford.  

You sighed. “I understand, but I don’t exaggerate when I say my career relies on this capture. I’m sorry. I must take it.” 

“To bring back to MACUSA,” Newt clarified.  

“Yes. I was assured they don’t intend to keep him. He’s to be released once the research is fulfilled.” 

“You are to release him?” 

“I believe that was implied.” 

Newt shook his head. “They won’t.” 

“Excuse me?” 

He stepped closer to you. “(Y/N), if MACUSA gets that dragon in their possession, they won’t release him.” 

You raised a brow. “And you know this how?” 

“Swedish Short-Snouts are known to have protective skin with magical properties. They are incredibly rare and greatly desired. I don’t think MACUSA commissioned you to do research.” 

An uneasy feeling took root in your stomach. “What do you mean?” 

“If the dragon falls into the wrong hands, its scales can be harvested in the production of magical gloves and shields. MACUSA won’t let it go. Grindelwald’s appearance in New York must have riled them. Chances are, they’ll take it away and have it killed the moment you return.” 

Realization seeped into your bones. Your knees buckled and you grasped the rocky mountain face for support. “The other captures.” 

Newt gave you a concerned look. “What?” 

“The other captures. Augureys, Gringwarts, Malaclaws. The Chinese Fireball. I never saw them again.” How many animals had you caught for MACUSA in the name of research? How many had been slaughtered? “They’ve been lying to me. They told me they were expanding the Department for Beast Regulation. I didn’t think...”  

You swallowed and looked back at Newt. “But wait. That doesn’t explain why you want to take the dragon. Why not do your research and let it be?” 

He clutched his suitcase so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Because I... I have the mate.” 

You gaped at him. “You have the mate?” 

He nodded. “A female. About the same age. I found her near the border of Finland a few weeks ago.” 

You shook your head. This changed everything. Swedish Short-Snouts were considered a dying breed and were so rare that many wizards went a lifetime without seeing one in person. Only trained specialists like you and Newt had the ability to properly track one down. But if he was telling the truth and he really did have the mate, that could ensure survival for the species.  

“Show me,” you said.  

He hesitated. Then, as if collecting his decorum, he knelt, laid his suitcase on the ground, and popped open the locks. He held out his hand to you like he was asking you to dance. “Come with me.” 

You slid your fingers into his and trailed behind him as he descended into the depths of his suitcase. Naturally you knew he had hexed it with a capacious extremis spell the same way you’d done to your coin purse, but the reality of entering a place that shouldn’t exist boggled your mind nonetheless. You felt like you were walking through a portal to another world.  

“She’s rather temperamental, as you’ll see. It took her days to allow me to approach her, and even so, she doesn’t like me to be close for long,” Newt explained as you reached the landing.  

You were about to respond until you blinked and were suddenly fully aware of your surroundings. You felt your eyes go wide. You stood at the entrance to a series of the greatest habitation facilities you had ever seen. In one corner was a habitat enriched with lush foliage and teeming with blue-bellied Occamies. In another, a marvelous Zouwu pawed at an uprooted tree, rolling on its back in a steep terrain. A path began at the entrance and led to the far side of the suitcase, where you glimpsed a shimmering body of water. Kelpies breached the surface and neighed, greeting their caretaker. Dozens of smaller creatures buzzed and flitted about, some inconspicuously perched in occluded nooks, others boldly squawking or screeching on wooden limbs. You spun in wonder, wanting to take everything in at once, words utterly availing you.   

“You...made all of this?” you asked. 

“Most of it is borrowed material from their native habitats. I began rehabilitating them when I was quite young,” Newt said, narrowly avoiding the question.  

You smiled inwardly at his humility. “Mr. Scamander, you are even more magical than the stories say.” 

“I am sure that is untrue.” 

He led you to a dimly lit habitat set in a rocky plain. The air in this area was significantly colder than the rest of his clandestine world; your breaths turned white as you exhaled and your nose tingled with frost. The habitat was ringed with sharp icicles like the teeth of a dragon, which was a fitting considering the actual dragon curled up in its center.  

Like the male, she was silvery blue and had a rigid tail. Her eyes were half-lidded, but as soon as Newt approached her head whipped up. You estimated that she was slightly larger than the male, which was customary for most dragons, and had blunter fangs.  

“Hello girly, Mum’s here, Mum’s here,” Newt soothed as he reached out and placed a hand on her muzzle. The dragon purred and leaned into his touch. Then her icy gaze shifted to you.  

Instantly her demeanor changed. She sprung to her feet, hackles raised and teeth bared. Her wings flared and pressed against her back, her tail inauspiciously swaying from side to side.  

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, girly, it’s okay,” Newt mediated. “She’s a friend.” 

The dragon didn’t seem to think so. Her pupils dilated and her claws visibly lengthened. You were undeterred by her aggression- after all, you’d dealt with countless feisty beasts in the field. To her, you were a threat who could take away Newt, her current source of food and shelter. 

To show you didn’t intend to fight, you sat on your knees, tucked your chin to your chest, and held out your hand palm-up. The smell of dirt emanating from your skin should have masked your human odor well enough. 

The dragon stared at you. Then, after a few moments, her growling ceased. You stayed still, waiting for her to come to you. You dared not look up, but after a few controlled breaths, you felt smooth scales on your fingertips. The dragon lingered only shortly before she retreated farther into the habitat.  

“Magnificent,” mumbled Newt. “She must be becoming more accustomed to humans.” 

“A both good and bad thing,” you said, brushing yourself off. “On one hand, she won’t eat us, but on the other, there are far too many humans out there who will hurt her when given the chance.” 

Newt looked at you, a question in his kind eyes.  

You sighed and nodded. “You’re right. You should take the dragon. When there’s so few of them left, two of the same should be together. To ensure the species has descendants,” you added, suddenly embarrassed at what the implication of your words could mean.  

Newt caught your drift. He looked down, his ears turning pink. “I-if you don’t wish to return to MACUSA empty-handed, it would be a tremendous help to have another Magizoologist around.” 

You furrowed your brow. “Truly? You’re offering to let me stay?” 

“Only as long as you’d want to. If you’re in no rush, that is. I wouldn’t want to hold you back from returning to America.” 

You felt a smile creep up your face. “Mr. Scamander, that would be lovely, but I really couldn’t intrude.” 

“You’re the only other Magizoologist known to mankind. It would be a privilege.” 

You imagined working alongside him, learning about and caring for his beasts, traveling to exotic places in search of magical creatures. How could it have been mere coincidence that you ran into each other in the forest today? That he was there to warn you about what would happen if you took the dragon? If you stayed, it couldn’t be forever. MACUSA would track you down eventually. But in the meantime, making new discoveries alongside Newt Scamander and protecting the beasts that called this world home sounded splendid.  

“Newt?” 

“Yes?” 

“We have a dragon to catch.” 

Masterlist

[pudgecuddles]

Proof Of Concept: Mad Science

[It's been a really weird week so what better way to cope than to check in on your magnum opus again? lol]

Namjoon Breast Growth & WG, Jin Route:

Synopsis thus far: Namjoon works for Jin’s company where he was accidentally exposed to a chemical that, unbeknownst to Namjoon, causes breast growth and weight gain. He decides to call Jin for help only for his boss to take him deeper into the facility…

-

The elevator opened up to a mostly empty, blue walled hallway. Too dizzy to turn his head left or right, all Namjoon could immediately see was a handful of unlabeled metal doors. Interestingly, there were no door handles or visible card scanners to be found. Still helping Namjoon stay upright, Dr. Kim promptly walked them both to the closest door. As the doctor drew near, Namjoon heard a cheerful beep and the door slid open. Proximity sensors? “Here we go, Namjoon-ssi.” Dr. Kim led him to an actually very comfortable, if not pretty large, hospital cot. It was soft and smelt freshly washed. Namjoon flopped backwards in relief. Even with his eyes closed, his head was spinning. “Oh man… Thank you Dr. Kim.” Namjoon sighed. “A minute longer and I think I would have puked.” “It's the least I can do.” Dr. Kim’s voice came from the other side of the bed-like cot. “We want to make sure you’re comfortable during your stay here.” “Oh! You don’t need to worry about that.” Namjoon quickly assures. “I swear, I’ll be out of your hair and back to work as soon as my symptoms improve. I wouldn’t want to trouble you for longer than necessary.” “Hmm,” Dr. Kim didn’t pause in whatever he was fiddling with outside of Namjoon’s vision, “And how are you feeling right now, Namjoon-ssi?” The older man asked, brushing off what his new patient had just said. “Umm…” Namjoon took a second to give himself a small check up, “I’m really dizzy; vertigo, nausea, fever possibly? I’m pretty sweaty and uh- a bit bloated.” Glancing down at his middle, Namjoon saw an puffy bump where a flat stomach should've been. Dr. Kim looked over at that. “Yes, that all lines up. It’s been around 20 minutes after the exposure, are you sure you don’t feel anything else? Just nauseous?” “I really do-” A loud gurgle from Namjoon’s stomach cuts him off. “Oh! Oh god, I am so hungry.” A sudden rush of hunger overtakes Namjoon. “Good, good. That’s typical.” Dr. Kim smiles, reaching down to palpate Namjoon’s belly. His fingers pressed and prodded against the surprisingly soft flesh of his new tummy. “Yes. It seems to be coming long nicely.” Dr. Kim commented, giving Namjoon’s now plush belly a condescending pat, watching it barely wobble. “I-I’m sorry, Dr. Kim, but I don’t understand…” Namjoon whispered. “What’s happening to me?” “Let’s get an IV in you.” Dr. Kim ignored him. “The hunger indicates that your body is asking for nutrients.” “An IV? Can’t I just eat something?” Okay, so he wasn’t going to be getting much information out of the director. Namjoon understood that their client’s serums were supposed to be the private equivalent of state secrets. Of course he wouldn’t be allowed to know what they did… That was what’s happening, right? Dr. Kim began prepping an IV line, pulling out a bag of clear liquid. “Nil per os. Nothing by mouth, young man. Solid food could choke you if you ate too fast. We can’t compromise the process.” Process... Namjoon gulped, half out of nerves, half to swallow down the saliva produced from thinking about food.

“Y-you said no solid food, right? So, something like a protein shake or- or mashed potatoes would be okay then?” Dr. Kim paused, a thoughtful look forming on his face. “I can try it.” He assented, starting to put away the IV. “I’ll have to hook you up with a feeding tube, though. You wont be able to talk.” Any panic Namjoon felt at the thought of being muted for who knows how long they’ll have him hooked up, was washed away by another painful wave of hunger. “Ngh! I don’t care, Doctor! I just need it in me! Please I’m so hungry!” An intense, but unreadable expression appeared on Dr. Kim’s face. “Again.” Namjoon whined, “What?” “Ask me again.” “I’m hungry, Doctor. P-please give me the tube…” Namjoon teared up. The pain was getting worse. Dr. Kim harshly pinched a perky, hardened nipple, eliciting a cut off moan. “You will refer to me as, Sir. Understand?” Namjoon could taste bile in the back of his throat, but he was desperate at this point. “Sir! Please, I need the tube! I’m starving!” Dr. Kim chuckled mockingly, “Starving? With all of this hanging off of you?” He slapped Namjoon’s plush tummy. “Sure, I’ll play along. Here, open wide and don’t choke. We’ll try this without anesthesia first. I don’t want to add another variable to the experiment.” Namjoon’s mouth opened wide, eager to be filled up. The tube slid down impossibly easy, as if Namjoon’s gag reflex had been turned off for the day. The vague feeling of the rubber hitting his stomach was uncomfortable, but the younger man didn’t choke. Dr. Kim moved over to the other side of the actually quite large room. What Namjoon had originally thought was an exit turned out to be double doors to a large walk in refrigerator. Bags of clear fluid, blood, and plasma hung in organized rows. Dr. Kim ignored those however, instead reaching into a plastic bin. The doctor shuffled back over, a massive vacuum sealed bag of beigeish paste craddled in both arms. The thing was huge; four, maybe five liters of the stuff sloshed thickly with every step. Plopping it down on a metal table with a huff, Dr. Kim shook out his arms. “Oh, I have got to get a cart with wheels.” Namjoon absently tongued the bottom of the cold, smooth tube. Dr. Kim pulled the bag closer to the large, metal machine stood behind Namjoon’s bed, out of sight. After what sounded like metal creaking and plastic tearing, Namjoon felt the tube vibrate lightly. Sadly, he couldn’t taste the paste being pumped into him, but Namjoon could definitely feel it settling in his stomach. Finally, Namjoon moaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Feels so good... Dr. Kim smiled as Namjoon’s belly began to bloat outwards, the younger man’s eyes barely open. “Enjoying yourself there, Joon-ah?” The nickname sounded belittling coming out of the doctor’s mouth. Namjoon just hummed, suckling needlessly at the rubber between his plump lips.

-

It’s been a while since I’ve worked on this interactive story, and I’m not even sure if anyone would be interested in it at this point ^_^;

I still desperately want to finish it some day, hopefully before BTS finishes their military service… It’s just hard to find kinky motivation when you’re incapable of feeling arousal in any sense of the word.

Let me know if anyone would even still be interested in reading this!

It will contain 4 routes, 15 branches and 30 endings with a hopeful update for a 5th route featuring JK in the future. I would honestly consider this my most intensive project to date.

Happy to get out this little preview at least!

[morticia-mystic]

Flower, gleam and glow...

(cw: child abuse, toxic parent, running away)

"No ? What do you mean, no ?"

Mother Gothel questioned, her tone so cold it made Johnny's and Ginny's blood run ice cold.

"You can't hear me, mother, I said no. I'm not putting up with your bullshit anymore."

It was that time of night again, where mother sat down with her children between her legs and had them sing the same magical incantation that Rapunzel sang all those years ago that kept her youth as she brushed through their hair. Gothel had done this for years; each night she would alternate between her children and have them sing as she brushed. Some nights were worse than others, the ones that were the worst was when she'd get violently angry.

"I'm so sick, of being locked up in this fucking tower with you and your sick fucking mind. We're not fucking Rapunzel, Mother."

Giovanni motioned to him and his siblings

"And there's no fucking flower."

Giovanni was 12 as he stood in front of his mother. He had just gotten his second growth spurt, he stands now just at eye level.

Giovanni was going to speak again before there was a loud crack.

The sound of skin hitting skin.

It was Mother Gothel's open palm against Giovanni's hand

Johnny and Ginny wince, and Johnny grapples onto his older sister, hiding his face.

"You will never speak to me like that, Maggio, never."

Gothel scolded, but her voice was calm, eerily calm. Like a calm breeze blowing through a motionless woods.

Giovanni stared into his mother's eyes. He felt how his cheek stung, and how tears stabbed at his eyes, threatening to break from their invisible barrier and fall down his cheeks.

Giovanni stood there, vacant. Like a statue, his expression, frozen, for what felt life forever

Ginny and Johnny looked on in fear of what would happen next.

Mother seemed to come to after what felt like an eternity. Her face morphed into one of horror and disbelief.

"My poor child, what have you led me to do."

She soothed, as she embraced Giovanni, holding his head against her. She pulled his face away before she spoke again. She was inspecting

"I could have damaged your beauty, child. I wouldn't know what to do with myself. You see why you should lead me to anger, child."

Her tone sounded like that of a concerned mother but her words betrayed that tone.

Giovanni stared blankly, his countenance held no expression. He wasn't there, not mentally, he still stood vacantly.

"Come now child, let's go to the reflection room."

The reflection room was a room in the tower that was small, damp, and cold. There was only a mirror and the purpose of the room was to stare at your reflection and think whenever you did something that mother didn't like.

There was never any way of knowing how long you'd have to be in there.

When Giovanni heard the mention of that hellish room he broke from his mothers hold.

"No."

He spoke, his voice sounded distant, he still wasn't truly there.

"No."

He spoke again as he started to back away.

"Child, stop this foolishness."

Gothel grabbed his wrist and started to drag him towards the room.

"NO !"

Giovanni screeched as he fell to the floor and began struggling away from his mothers grasp.

"Giovanni, stop struggling. You need to reflect."

Gothel scolded as she continued to tug at him.

Giovanni struggled out old his mothers hold and ran.

He ran down the stairs and to his room. He slammed the door and quickly looked around for some form of barricade. He frantically searched his dilapidated room and moved his run down dresser (that was missing most of its original drawers) in front of his door.

At this age, Giovanni was already a master escapist (being locked up in a tower, it was a skill that was valuable). He made his way quickly to his closest and pulled out a small box that held the tools that aided him in his escape.

He took the rope from the box and secured it to something in his room. By the time he was able to tie the knot (his hands were shaking too badly to tie correctly the first time), mother had made it to his room, and was banging on the door.

"Open the door Maggio."

She yelled. Giovanni moved faster, he grabbed his shoes and threw them out of the window before frantically making his way to the window himself and beginning to scale the side of the tower he was forced to call home.

When his feet hit the ground, he hastily put on his shoes and began to run.

There were only two people for him to run to, Mal or Sarah of Spades...

Giovanni began to run in the direction of Bargain Castle.

[musical-chan]

Father of Time Chapter 10: Remember the Future Or You Are Doomed to Repeat It

“Link!” 

At the sound of his name, Link glanced towards his bedroom window. He was supposed to be cleaning his room but the Kokiri girl's voice was a welcome distraction. Kicking at a pile of deku nuts, he gave up the attempt and ran outside to his friend. 

“Hey Saria!  This is great timing. I needed to talk to you about something.” 

“Later!  I'm worried about the Deku Tree. He said he needs you right away!”

“Oh!  Well, okay!  DAD! I'm going with Saria for a moment!” 

Late morning sunlight filtered through the dense trees as they wove through the twisted paths that led to the Kokiri Village.  He couldn't push down the sense of coming home and it bothered him; he hadn't actually lived here in years and the Kokiri's rejection of him still hurt deeply.  He had a home now, one that he liked! The forest had denied him but his traitorous heart would not remember that. He followed quietly in Saria's wake, letting her deal with Mido at the entrance to the Deku's clearing and paused only briefly to note how well the tree had been growing. 

No longer a sprout, the Deku tree was tall enough for the Kokiri to gather under him once again. While he was still a long growth from his full size, it was a comforting sight to Link all the same. He had done well after being sent back from the future; the Kokiri didn't have to suffer for seven years before the new sprout had appeared. He wasn't sure what those years had been like but in his experience, nothing good. As he and Saria walked under the outspread branches, he was surprised that his hair brushed the leaves. 

“Link, thank you for coming. I need you to take the spiritual stone back.”

“What?! Why?” 

“Dark things are moving and I am too young to protect it. It is not safe here any longer.” 

A branch tapped Link on the head and he glanced up as the green gem tumbled out into his hands. A painful memory skirted across his face and his hands tightened over the emerald, not noticing the pain as a facet pressed into his skin.

“I…I can't, Deku Tree. I can't! It didn't go well when I got the stones last time!”

(Read the rest on AO3!)

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine having a former Balrog as your husband

(I once watched the way of the house husband and thought something like this. Meet Tarion Urdil. I don’t have a headcanon introducing him yet, but I can do that later.) 

Warnings; finding a possibly dangerous man, adopting him, some domestic fluff, Tarion taking things literally, marriage pestering, creepy men, marriage, fluff, relationship growth. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

-You met him on one stormy night. The thunder danced above you in a furious dance of lights and loud booming rumbles while you struggled to reach your home in the forest through the wind and the rain. 

-You were visiting family and didn’t expect the storm to get this bad, so you were soaked from head to toe by the time you finally got inside your house. Water dripped down from your coat, creating a puddle beneath you. 

-You slightly cursed, taking off your coat and tried to dry off while lighting up some candles to chase away the dark in your house. 

-You heard something on the other side of your house and then felt a brush of wind. 

-When you went to investigate and found your backdoor moving forth and back violently with the wind. You quickly closed it, preventing it from hitting walls any longer. The bellowing of the wind stopped, and the house was filled cold. It was so freezing that it was enough to make your skin shiver with goosebumps. 

-You wondered how the door was left open. You remember making sure all the doors were closed before you left. 

-You then noticed wet footprints on your floor. They were big and had something resembling six sharp toes. 

-They led you to the living room, and you half expected to find a big bear that possibly wandered inside, but instead– you found someone sitting near a corner. 

-He was tall, and his eyes glowed in the dark. 

-His long dark hair was dark as the night, and he had two large horns coming out from his head. You noticed a tail at the bottom of his feet, tucked around them like a cat wrapping its tail around its body. 

-He was covering himself in an old-looking cloak, which did little to cover the rest of his body and the scales that dressed his skin like armor. It was like looking into a skin embedded with black diamonds because they seemed almost glow from the light of your candle when you came closer and tried to get a better look at him. 

-He didn’t try anything when you got closer. He only stared back at you with those sharp eyes as you looked at him with curiosity and wonder. 

-He was a strange-looking man, and now — he is your husband. 

-You took him in after finding him in your living room. 

-He told you he thought the house wasn’t inhabited, so you didn’t mind him coming inside for warmth and cover. The storm outside was pretty bad. You gave him a warm blanket and made warm soup because he looked like he had not eaten a proper meal for some time.

-He seemed confused but kept the blanket and took the bowl. He called you a fool with no self-preservation instincts, and you just laughed in return because your family called you that too. Apparently, you don’t recognize danger when there’s one. 

-You then simply conversed with him at the fireplace. 

-He didn’t give his name, so you nicknamed him Tarion, which he didn’t seem to mind. 

-You allowed him to stay with you since he had nowhere else to go. You tried to help him get back on his feet since he looked like he was having a rough time. 

-Tarion seemed confused by your gestures but tried to appreciate them and even repay you by helping you with house chores. 

-It was silly to watch. Tarion confessed he had never done chores before, so he wasn’t sure how things worked. 

-He knew how to manage a broom, so he was mainly stuck brushing the floors from dust. It was funny to watch him struggle with a broom that was so tiny compared to him. 

-He avoided doing dishes or anything that required the use of water. He would glare at it and stay on the other side of your house than touch water. When you asked him why, he told you he had a bad experience with water, so he preferred to avoid getting wet.  

-While you understood him, you wondered how he would clean himself if he got dirty.

-You gave him some of your father's old clothes since he was tall and you didn't have anything else to fit him.

-It was troublesome to get the shirt on him because of his horns and scales, but you made it work with your tailoring skills. You only made a deep cut in the pants for his tail, and he was all dressed up. 

-He seemed uncomfortable wearing clothes. They looked tight, so you half expected them to rip up, but then some of his scales dropped on the floor. You were worried as Tarion seemed shocked, but then you observed as the clothes loosened up and hugged him better. 

-You asked if he was alright and if it was normal for his scales to drop down out of nowhere. He assured you he was fine and only showing more skin after the scales fell off. 

-He didn’t know why it happened, but the clothes felt more comfortable, so he was okay with it. 

-After the incident was forgotten, Tarion tried helping you cook dinner to thank you for the clothes. It was silly to see a tall man like him hover over you, trying to follow your instructions while trying not to cause a mess with his clawed hands. You could only chuckle when he accidentally broke the eggs in his fingers and kept hissing at the pot of boiling water like an angry cat. 

-He was surprisingly good at using a knife. When you asked him to cut the vegetables, he cut them into perfect pieces in a matter of seconds, all in good slices and portions. 

-You were impressed enough to ask if he could teach you how to cut things like that. 

-When you had to leave for errands, you told Tarion he could do anything he liked and maybe watch over the house since thieves and bandits were common. You preferred not to get robbed at this time of your life. 

-He only gave you a nod, and you left. 

-You were worried about leaving him alone since you didn’t have any weapons in your house, but all your doubts vanished when you heard a word about some thief yelling about a monstrous man living in the woods. 

-Your local village was not kind toward thieves, so his words were unheard, and he got taken to the local prison. 

-You were worried since you lived in the woods and Tarion had horns and a tail, so there was a possibility the thief was talking about him. 

-After making that conclusion, you hurriedly returned to your house. You feared for the worst but were relieved to find Tarion unharmed. He was casually sitting by a big bonfire, poking the flames with his hand. 

-When you told him about the rumors, he told you a couple of thieves tried to break in and steal your valuables. You asked him to watch over your home, so he took necessary precautions to dispose of them properly. 

-You then noticed what seemed to be a human finger next to the fire and realized it was not wood he was burning. 

-And that’s why you made him watch over your home ever since. He took things…a little seriously, so you told him to just kick the intruders out the next time it happened. No need for bloodshed, or people might question.

-You enjoyed Tarion’s company. He wasn’t very talkative– but he assured you he didn’t mind listening to you ramble about your day or things that interested you. 

-He pretty much followed you around like a giant puppy. You even took him to see the village one day. It surprised him that the people didn't seem to mind his presence, and you explained they had seen stranger things, so his existence was not that big of a deal. 

-You liked how long his hair was, so he allowed you to braid it while chatting about random things. He would have to sit between your legs to reach his hair, and he didn’t mind, even finding your fingers going through his hair oddly pleasant. 

-When you asked what kind of creature he was, he decided to reveal he was a Maiar which got you a bit excited, and you asked more about it. 

-He stayed quiet like he was hesitant to reveal anything. You wondered if you made him uncomfortable, so you apologized for your intrusion. 

-He pulled himself away and revealed he wasn’t one of the righteous Maiars who served the Valar. He was a balrog, which explained the horns, the scales, and the tail. He was a creature of darkness and fire, meant to bring despair and destruction upon the orders of his master. 

-He was a part of the attack upon the elves in the hidden city of Gondolin. Something went wrong, and he got cast into the great river, which forced him to change into the form he was in right now. He was then carried away and found his way to your home after escaping the river's clutches.

-He apologized for keeping such a secret, especially when you showed him kindness he had never experienced before in his life. 

-You stood quiet and then smiled. Even though Tarion was supposed to be evil incarnate, you didn't feel any resentment. He had been good to you than most people, and you enjoyed having him around. 

-Tarion didn’t know what to say when you told him that. He could only stare at you with wonder in his eyes. 

-You then asked for his real name. 

- “I was known as Dur — but my birthname is Urdil,” He said. 

- “A friend of fire? Now that is a nice name. It suits you,” You smiled. 

-You asked if you could call him that, but then he asked you to keep calling him Tarion since he had grown fond of the name while living with you. 

-You grew closer after that discussion. Tarion became gentler and learned to control his strength. He even brushed off his dislike of the water to help you with chores.

-It warmed your heart to watch him want to improve and witness his willingness to help you. It was like he wanted to become better to make up for his past mistakes. 

-He even began to smile when you joked around and talked about things that made you happy. He even began revealing something about himself and what he was like before his corruption. 

-Seeing him like this made you wish in your heart– that he could stay with you. 

-Now – how did he end up as your husband? 

-It started when your family pestered you about finding a husband and settling down to start a family. You were not keen on the idea because there were still things you wanted to do before considering marriage. 

-However, your family was persistent. They even tried introducing you to people they picked out for you without your knowledge. It was getting really frustrating. 

-You came back home angry one day. You slammed the door shut and cursed like a sailor after yet another meeting with a man set to ‘woo’ you like your family liked to call it. 

-It did not end well. The man was creepy, way too forward, and touchy with you. You bailed out after he tried to discuss names and future professions for your possible children. 

-You wanted to scream and consider staying inside your house for the rest of your life and becoming a crazy cat lady– even cats would have more respect for you than that man and your family. 

-Tarion came to check on you after hearing you barge in and curse words even he didn’t have in his store. 

-You explained your current marriage problem with your family and how they keep picking the worst men possible to marry you. 

-You feared they might force you to marry someone after getting tired of your constant rejections, and you end up living a life in misery – married to someone you might never learn to love. 

-Tarion stood quiet, watching and listening as you vent your frustration and despair about the future. He then broke the silence by suggesting you marry him instead. 

-Your face went red, but you kept your composure and asked for the reason for his sudden proposal. 

-He briefly explained how you two already knew each other and how he stays at home most of the time. He respects your independence, so he would not force you to do anything you didn’t like, and your family would finally stop their inconvenient pestering. 

-You liked the idea, so you ended up agreeing to it. 

-You did ask him if he was willing to commit to such a relationship. He told you he was ready to do anything to repay your kindness and acceptance, be it taking a knife for you or doing a thing called marriage. 

-He said it with such nonchalance that you weren’t sure he truly knew what marriage was about, and there was your mortality to be considered since he was a Maiar, a being who can live thousands of years. 

-When you brought it up to him, he said he was still willing to do it. He would even stay with you till it was time for you to depart from the living world.

-It made you silently happy after he said that.  

-So, you went with the plan and decided to marry with a little ceremony with just your friends without your parents knowing because you did not want to risk them rejecting the marriage since Tarion was not a human. 

-They were not pleased when they heard about it and absolutely freaked out when you brought Tarion to meet them. They were terrified of him but they didn’t dare say anything and allowed you to go on with your life. That’s how you ended up married to your balrog husband.

-You were thrilled when you got home. You were finally free from your family’s obnoxious pestering. You were so excited you pulled Tarion down to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

-He was caught off guard and stood frozen when he felt your lips against his skin. Some of his scales dropped on the floor due to his shock. 

-You apologized to him when you saw his reaction and noticed his scales falling off again. You thought you broke him when he didn’t respond, but he recovered and assured you it was fine. 

-You had dinner, went to sleep, and your life continued as always. 

-However, Tarion had decided to take his role as a husband seriously and began to learn things while you went out for errands and hobbies. 

-He always had dinner ready, and the house would be clean. You wouldn't have anything else to do, so you would spend the rest of the time with him, talking and braiding his hair. It had become a relaxing little habit. 

-Tarion always liked to listen, but you started to notice happy little signs when you were around him. He might not notice, but his tail sometimes moves around back and forth when he sees you, like with a happy cat. He always gave you a gentle look whenever you looked at him and put effort into improving his cooking skills to make your favorite food. 

-You began to wonder if he did all the chores so you would have more time to spend with him. 

-The thought made your heart swell in adoration and you couldn’t help but fall more in love with him. 

-You thought about confessing to him but you were worried he might not feel the same since the marriage was just his suggestion to save you from your family’s pestering. 

-However, when you thought about your time together and how much he had changed around you. You decided to muster the courage to confess to him during one of your relaxing times together. 

-You were sitting on the couch, talking and braiding his hair like usual. You stopped braiding his beautiful hair and asked if he knew how much you enjoyed his company. He turned to look at you and listened as you explained how things had changed and how you had grown to care about him more than a friend. You then told him you loved him and waited for his reaction. 

-Tarion was quiet for a moment before he kneeled before you and explained how he had grown to appreciate life when he met you. In the past he never cared and did what his former master Morgoth ordered him to do, but now he wanted to enjoy life and the little things by your side. 

-He then gave you a kiss on the back of your hand. “I will be yours to the end— my beloved,” he said as he looked into your eyes with all gentle seriousness. 

-Your eyes filled with tears of happiness. You two shared your first kiss, and your marriage became official. 

-Tarion became ten times more gentle with you and even followed you around when you went out together.

-The villagers didn’t think much of him. They were happy as your marriage seemed thriving. 

-Ever since you started sleeping on the same bed together, you refused to sleep alone. Tarion was so warm during the cold nights– so you always latch on to him like a little koala. 

-Tarion too became clingy in a way. He likes to hold you in his lap when you talk or read together on the couch. Occasionally, you enjoyed napping on him because he was comfortable. 

-Since you were never afraid to hold his clawed hands, he enjoys holding your hand.

 -Sometimes– you like caressing his horns when braiding his hair and enjoy hearing him make purr-like sounds. 

-You were convinced he was indeed a big cat. In some way, you truly had become the cat lady you once dreaded to be your future. 

-For some reason, though, he started losing more scales. You thought he was ill, but he then said that he didn’t feel ill 

-You later noticed he was changing physically. 

-He was starting to look less like his former self with each scale he lost. He used to be covered from head to toe but now there were only scales around his hands and feet. 

-Even his hands and feet were changing. His claws were becoming smaller, and his fingers more slender. Even his tail was becoming shorter. 

-Tarion then came up with a theory that he was changing because he gave up on his old ways and embraced something new and good— he was starting to look like what he used to before his corruption into a balrog. 

-You were glad he was not ill. If he had not found his way to your home and met you, he would have most likely died alone in the shadows of a cave. 

-You embraced each other and hoped your happiness would last long.

[contreparry]

happy friday ann! for the dadwc: “Your hair keeps falling into your eyes, do you know that? Here, lemme just—”

Absolutely! Here's some f!Hawke/Isabela for @dadrunkwriting!

She has a pull on her, something fierce and powerful and unrelenting. She was like the tide, something that was impossible to ignore or combat. Or perhaps Marian was like the sea and Isabela the moon, drawing her ever onward, forwards and back for the rest of her days. Dramatic, maybe, but that was how she felt.

Charisma, Marian thought as she watched Isabela carefully explain all of the cards in her wicked grace deck to Merrill. Merrill listened attentively; her wide green eyes bright with curiosity as she analyzed every card. And Isabela- Marian bit her lip to keep herself from sighing like a love-drunk fool. A lock of Isabela's curly hair fell out of her blue kerchief and brushed against the curve of her cheek like a kiss. Merrill asked Isabela a question, and Isabela flung her head back and roared with laughter. That laugh- unrepentant and loud- drew eyes from all across the tavern. Isabela had charisma, and it pulled Marian in until she couldn't escape- and she didn't want to. Not now. Not ever.

"You could talk to her," Fenris suggested, a sly note coloring his normally even, composed tone. "She does like to talk."

"What would I do without you to advise me, Fenris?" Marian asked, and she was only being a little sarcastic. Fenris was prickly and angry and brilliant and terribly considerate when he wanted to be- and he was far wiser than anyone gave him credit for. Perhaps he was a little cynical, but after the life he led... well, who wouldn't be?

The point was this: Fenris often had a good idea about things and people. If he thought that she ought to speak her mind to Isabela he was probably right. Marian just wished speaking wasn't so difficult. She had what she wanted to say all plotted out (worked on it for months, in fact). I enjoy our time together. This means more to me than simple fun. I like your company as a person, not just for- but then Isabela would say something with her wicked sharp tongue, or she'd smile and there would be crow's feet at the corners of her amber brown eyes, or she'd drop her head to Marian's shoulder and the words would fly out of Marian's head like a flock of pigeons launching themselves of a Chantry roof.

"Hmm," Fenris hummed, his green eyes dancing with a cat-like amusement as he leaned back against the wall and watched the tavern from his seat. "You'll forget which knife you use for fish versus meat, most likely. Go talk to Isabela."

"Bossy," Marian teased, but she pulled herself out of her seat.

"Go. Or else I shall have no peace from the moonstruck calf's eyes you make at her," Fenris said, and he dismissed her with a wave of his hand as if he were a prince.

Marian made her way around the other patrons in The Hanged Man, dodging elbows and tables of rowdy drunks until she stood by Isabela's side at the table. Isabela, for her part, easily made room for her and wrapped one strong arm around her waist.

"And how is our broody darling elf in the corner?" Isabela asked, her voice bubbling with barely restrained laughter. By the Maker, that laugh was one of Marian's favorite sounds!

"Content. He has a bottle of wine and dropped sage advice, he's going to be a smug little shite for the rest of the evening," Marian sighed. "How are the card lessons progressing?"

"Merrill's a fast study, though she has a few too many tells," Isabela replied. "But we all knew she'd take to this like a fish to water." She sounded proud, so proud, and Marian shared in that pride. There was a certain joy in seeing a friend grow skilled at something, and Merrill's growth from guppy to card shark was a delight.

"Isabela says I tap my foot when my hand's good," Merrill sighed. "Maybe I'll strap weights to my ankles so I can win a game."

"Against Varric and Isabela? Impossible," Marian said sympathetically. "But you have more than a fair chance against Fenris. And I know you'll beat Sebastian if we convince him to play a round."

"We have every confidence in you, Merrill," Isabela declared. "And when have either of us steered you wrong- with cards, that is."

"Always with the qualifiers," Merrill teased. "It's as if you're afraid of what I might say!"

"Afraid? Never, kitten," Isabela laughed before turning the full force of her bright eyes onto Marian. "Now, whatever was it that sent you to our corner tonight, Hawke?"

This was it, Marian thought. This was the moment. All she had to do was ask Isabela for a private conversation, take her somewhere less crowded, less noisy, and tell her that she mattered, that she was precious, that she made life in Kirkwall not just bearable but worth all the shite she put up with every day. All she had to do was unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth and spill her heart out, and that wasn't a frightening prospect at all, was it? If there was anyone she'd trust to keep her heart safe it was Isabela. She didn't have to be afraid. She didn't want to be afraid! She wouldn't be afraid!

"Your hair keeps falling into your eyes, do you know that?" Marian blurted out instead of the speech she planned to make, and she could sense Fenris shaking his head and turning to his wine in frustration. "Here, lemme just-" Marian reached out, carefully grasped the errant curl, and pushed it away until it was tucked behind Isabela's ear.

"Ah, my hero," Isabela teased, and she drew up to her toes and pecked Marian's cheek before leaning in and whispering in her ear.

"Whatever did I do to fluster you, sweet thing?" she asked coyly, and she squeezed Marian's hip in her hand just once before letting go to flop down in the chair and resume card lessons with Merrill. Marian, the heat in her face so fierce that she thought her head might be on fire, followed suit and sat across from them at the table. Isabela smiled, a wicked gleam in her eye, and blew her a kiss. Marian returned the gesture, blushing like a foolish maiden at her first dance.

So perhaps she couldn't say the right words tonight. But there would be a tomorrow, and more beyond that. She'd get it out- and get it right- another time.

[cinamun]

Hey Cin, So... I kept debating as an introvert whether or not to come onto the Big T. But I am a long time enthusiast of your work (since your S2 contest and S2 story days.) and wanted to join Triple R. (The Raven Simone pic is a good look for the club Avatar LOL.) I, as many of the rest of us were not expecting you to do a Stephen King and "Kill your little Darlings" well... not specifically El who I felt was a more complex character (literally) at least so far than Jayce (IMHO) because he like several of your characters had potential for redemption even when he took that dark turn. Yes, I know not every character has to be dark and twisty with continued problems. But case in point: I noted how quick the anger blazed up toward Elliot but Darren is lauded for his turn around and growth even after he *also* put hands to Indya in the early days of their relationship... now granted he didn't put her lights out like Hope, but came close. Elliot was that ride or die friend (like Darren.) that Hope didn't even have with her girls (that I could tell.) and even helped to find her when she ran away. But with the good doctors help, breakthroughs regarding Sean, an absent mother and love could have possibly changed El like Darren to a grizzled happy middle aged healed OG with a family. But, it's unfortunately not to be. I do also wonder with the way these events went down if Darren and Indya remember this side of himself? Even though that was past Darren and not Daddy of 3 and Uncle of 1 Darren? Ok, I am going to fade into the bushes like Homer Simpson now.

NO! Bestie! Come BACK! You can't just drop a think piece like this and fade away boo. Nope, we don't do that here. But you know what we DO do?

We get into it...

First of all, those sims 2 model contests where the best thing to ever happen to me in the early 2gs okay? WHERE ARE THEY NOW? That's when I learned how to use hair brushes in photoshop AND "frankensim". But I digress....

Elliot's death was not something I took lightly. I was VERY attached to him. I made him from scratch in CAS as a child *specifically* for Hope. That was her bestie, first crush, first love, first kiss. He was *MADE* for her and I really do mean that literally. It took at least 2 weeks to even come to terms with the idea and up until the last screenshot of that fateful day on the pier was taken, I was still not convinced I would do it. It was a test as a writer: to do something so drastic to an OC that it torments you. It hurt.

The reason everyone jumped on Elliot was because of *how* he chose to do it (I was angry with my DAMN self, but it couldn't happen another way in my head). LIke you said, he "put her lights out". He squeezed her neck so hard, with the most powerful part of his arm, and caused so much internal damage, it kept her in the hospital for two weeks (there is symbolism to this that I won't disclose just yet).

He absolutely had the potential to grow and be redeemed just like Darren did and Darren had far more demons than simply a lost love (he had that too, though, with Sherrita). Darren lost whole family members. Elliot was without a mother. Darren was without a mother. This is where, I believe, the parallels end.

I truly believe that Darren and Indya remember the days when abuse was a regular occurence. Indya had the same bruises from being lifted up by the neck by Darren that Hope now has after being.... (wait for it...)

...lifted up by the neck by Elliot:

Lest we forget....

Key difference here: Darren was abusive. Elliot was not physically abusive (that we know of) until the argument with Hani that led him down a spiral that would ultimately take his life.

I'll end with this (because the Ratchet Readers™ may have some nuances I'm not seeing) While Darren and Indya might remember those days, they choose to live in the present where blessings are abundant, the soil is fertile and the growth is perrenial. I believe that *everyone* has that capacity which is why I always say that this story is ultimately about growth. The plot is growth. The arcs are growth. All of it. So I absolutely believe Elliot could have grown to the OG status that Darren now is. The reality is that, some just don't get there, even with the capacity to grow inherently a part of them.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

And this one definitely gives me EZ Reyes vibes:

Person B does a spa day for person A

Drabble Masterlist

Effort

Contains:Fluff

424 words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #sp's natural hair drabbles

EZ spends the day making sure you know how much he loves you.

You awoke to a note on your bedside table, "come and find me." EZ's handwriting made you smile, a little heart at the end of the words. You got up, threw on a dressing gown, and made your way through the house, meeting EZ in the kitchen, "what have you got planned today?"

He smiled, "well Mi corazón, you've been working so hard I figure you deserve a treat so I've planned you a spa day."

He took your hand and led you into the bathroom, "strip."

You giggled, "oh, is it that kind of treat?"

He shook his head, "no, I made a body mask for you, you don't need to lose the panties if you don't want."

You smiled, "what a gentleman." He helped you take off your night clothes before rubbing the mask over your skin, "it tingles?"

He nodded, "mint oil, it's a theme today."

"Oh really, you've been doing some research?"

He nodded with a smile, "mint oil is good for both hair growth and skin health, there's also fancy castor oil in the hair mask I made."

You smiled, "Jamaican black castor oil?"

He huffed, "that's it, the lady at the store said it was the best money can buy."

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, trying to avoid smearing anything on him, "you're very sweet EZ." Once that had sat for twenty minutes, he helped you wash it off, then filled the tub and directed you to rest your head over the edge.

"Tell me if I tug on anything yeah?"

You nodded as he wet your hair and combed it out, "of course." He took his time, making sure to stop and rub your scalp and neck as he went, when your hair was brushed out, he got a handful of the homemade mask and spread it through the strands, "mmmm, that feels nice."

He smiled, "does it? I made sure to only buy the best."

You giggled, "gee wiz EZ, what else do you have in store for me today."

"After this, I'm going to wash this out, then shampoo and conditioner your hair then fix your curls so they're perfect. Then I'm going to do your nail and after that, we're going to spend the rest of the day cuddling on the couch watching your favourite movies."

You smiled so big your face hurt, "what did I do to deserve all of this?"

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, "you didn't do anything other than be mine and that's good enough for me."

Fin

[miss-ingno]

No Sweeter Innocence

Fandom: Guardian (镇魂) Rating: T Ship: Kunlun/Shen Wei, Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan Words: 9.7k Tags: Gods AU, God!Kunlun, disciple!Shen Wei, altar sacrifice, virgin sacrifice, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, Love Triangles (with the same person), Jealousy, Power Imbalance, Rituals, Weddings, a lil bit h/c, emotional angst with a happy ending

Summary: Shen Wei was raised in the temple as a devoted disciple to Kunlun. He is elated to be chosen as the sacrifice Kunlun's bride... ...if only he wasn't in love with Zhao Yunlan, the merchant boy from the next town over.

A/N: For my @guardianbingo​ square “Mountains”! Read here on Ao3.

No masters or kings when the ritual begins There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene Only then I am human Only then I am clean

- Take Me To Church by Hozier

Shen Wei knelt in pious silence alongside his fellow disciples, heads bowed respectfully. Everyone of age was called in for the choosing ceremony, an honour and a heavy responsibility in one. Whoever was chosen for the task would have to give up their life to calm their god’s temper and distract him from whatever attracted his ire.

Candles flickered all around them, the windows wide open to let in the spring breeze. The priests were murmuring prayers in unison, led by the head priests of the temple, Priest Zhou and Priest Ouyang. Under their guidance, the priests and disciples chanted praises to the mountain and the rivers, the blossoming growth of nature and the destructive force of thunder.

Everyone fell quiet as Priest Zhou stepped forward, the wind included. Expectant silence filled the air, the crackling potential before a lightning strike.

“God of Mountains and Rivers, great Kunlun-jun, we dare come before you today to ask for your guidance. Please accept these offerings and let us know your will.”

Behind Priest Zhou, servants brought in trays, some filled with food, others carrying bowls of incense and jewels. They were set upon the altar and Priest Zhou led the disciples through three kowtows. Then Priest Ouyang stood up and bowed before the altar. The disciples remained in kowtow, foreheads pressed against the cold stone tiles. Shen Wei closed his eyes, feeling the breeze pick back up, ruffling through his hair.

“Oh greatest of the Gods of Creation, he who brings life and he who destroys it, hear our plea!” In contrast to Priest Zhou’s humble and even inflection, Priest Ouyang tended to sound like a puffed up peacock strutting about. “We have brought before you a selection of youths, hand-picked by your most trusted priests for their piety! Only the most dutiful and obedient disciples kneel before you today, trusting in your grace to choose from amongst these loyal and faithful devotees your future bride.”

Warmth brushed down Shen Wei’s spine, and he opened his eyes to glance over his shoulder, barely moving his head. Nothing was there. Just then, a cold wind blew through the altar room, leaving the candles to flicker wildly and his fellow disciples to shiver, but all Shen Wei felt was a cocoon of warm air enveloping him. Something tickled his cheek, and he swore he could hear a chuckle.

“Send us a sign, oh Great Kunlun-jun, let us know who is your chosen!” Priest Ouyang continued, unperturbed.

As if in answer, a strong gust blew out all the candles at once. The priests threw themselves onto the ground, kowtowing and muttering prayers, taking it for a sign of Kunlun's displeasure.

A hand settled on Shen Wei’s shoulder, pulling him up. Used to following the priests’ instructions, Shen Wei sat up, only to blink when he realized no one was behind him. He surveyed his fellow disciples and priests as they knelt in worship, foreheads still pressed to the ground. No one paid Shen Wei any mind.

In the distance, there was a rumble of thunder.

“Primordial One, your humble servants beg of you! Allow us to appease your ire, forgive our daring,” Priest Zhou called out, and the disciples repeated it dutifully. All except for Shen Wei, whose attention was caught by the waving branch of a peach tree just outside the window next to him. His brow furrowed because there, in between the buds which had yet to blossom, grew a round, ripe peach.

“You!” Priest Ouyang yelled, dragging Shen Wei’s focus back inside. Only then did he notice the dusting of snow which had begun covering the robes of his fellow disciples, all of whom were trembling from the cold. He blinked up at Priest Ouyang, whose head flushed a deep red in fury. The head priest pushed to his feet and stomped over to where Shen Wei sat. “How dare you disrespect our great lord like this!”

The other priests murmured to each other, their words echoing in the silent hall.

“No wonder we drew Kunlun-jun’s ire,” they whispered. “How did the head priests allow someone like that into the choosing ceremony?”

“You deserve to be punished for the insult,” Priest Ouyang spat, raising his hand to slap Shen Wei.

Shen Wei lowered his eyes, holding still, accepting of his fate—for while he had his reasons, he had broken protocol in the middle of the ceremony—but just then, the earth shook and shuddered under their feet. All the priests and disciples bowed low and cried out to Kunlun to take mercy on them, while Priest Ouyang was thrown off balance, landing hard on his backbone with a crack.

Everyone, that was, except for Shen Wei.

Because as he had lowered his head to fall into kowtow alongside the rest of the priesthood, he discovered a crack in the floor with a green stalk rapidly rising upwards. It stopped just short of Shen Wei’s face, the bud at the top exploding into a fully mature lily, a deeper red than any Shen Wei had seen before. He reached out with careful fingers, tracing the fragile petals, and the flower dropped into his palms, its stem wilting away instantly.

Finally, the earthquake subsided, leaving the priesthood shaken and disorganized.

Shen Wei swallowed, feeling the velvety-soft flower against his skin. He glanced up, gaze unerringly drawn to the altar, noting that none of the offerings had been disturbed by the sudden shaking. He met Priest Zhou's gaze, as the head priest wobbly pushed to his feet. Then said gaze was drawn down, to the delicate flower Shen Wei cupped in his palm, eyebrows flying up.

“Well.” Priest Zhou cleared his throat, putting a hand on Priest Ouyang’s shoulder to stop him from standing back up. “It appears Kunlun-jun has made his will known.”

Everyone turned to stare at Shen Wei, while Priest Ouyang spat in disbelief. “That brat!?”

Priest Zhou shot him a forbidding glare, motioning for him to stay quiet. He cautiously stepped between the rows of disoriented disciples until he reached Shen Wei, slowly kneeling down in front of him.

“Tell me, Disciple Shen,” he said quietly, calmly, his voice echoing through the silent hall, “What caused you to rise early?”

“I—” Shen Wei ducked his head, swallowing nervously. How to describe the warm feeling of incorporeal hands? The caress of the wind with a mind of its own? He glanced towards the window, and Priest Zhou followed his gaze.

“A peach?” the head priest murmured, brow furrowing in puzzlement. “It’s not yet the season for fruit to grow.”

“It must be a sign,” one of the other priests exclaimed excitedly. She grabbed a nearby disciple by the shoulder and shook them. “Quick, go bring us that peach so we may divine its purpose.”

The disciple bowed and hurried outside.

Meanwhile, Priest Ouyang had found his feet, coming to stand behind Priest Zhou with his arms crossed and a thunderous expression. “Are you quite certain you are interpreting the signs correctly, Priest Zhou? How could our great lord choose someone so… easily distracted?”

“Are your eyes closed, Priest Ouyang?” Priest Zhou returned, gesturing broadly towards the other disciples. “Are not these others covered in snow where Disciple Shen is not? Has not the earth split apart to deliver upon him a flower, a red lily no less? What other signs would you have us interpret when our lord has made his will obvious already?”

That moment the disciple returned, carefully clutching the peach in their hands. As they held it out to the head priests with their head bowed, Shen Wei could see the skin had wrinkled, the fruit growing overripe. Priest Zhou frowned even as Priest Ouyang snatched it up eagerly. But just as soon as he touched the fruit, it started rotting in his palms, turning into disgusting, brown sludge.

Repulsed, Priest Ouyang dropped the peach.

But against all expectations, the fruit didn’t go splat as it hit the floor, rather, it rolled over the stone tiles to come to a rest at Shen Wei’s knee, once more in its glorious, ripe state. Shen Wei stared down at the peach along with everyone else, his heart hammering against his chest.

“Go on,” Priest Zhou encouraged gently, voice quiet in the anticipatory hush.

Swallowing, Shen Wei reached out, his fingers brushing over fuzzy skin. When nothing else happened, he turned the fruit over between his fingers, inspecting it. There was not a single blemish in the peach’s skin, though.

Priest Zhou’s hands folded over his own, pushing the peach up to his mouth. Shen Wei gave him a questioning look, and Priest Zhou nodded in encouragement, letting go of his hands.

“Do you accept Kunlun-jun’s proposal, Shen Wei?”

Shen Wei swallowed, then ducked his head. He bit into the peach, the juices exploding on his tongue, running down his chin in abundance. The taste was divine, and Shen Wei licked his lips, unable to help himself. A warm weight settled against his back, and it almost felt as if arms wrapped around his middle.

Clearing his throat, Shen Wei announced hoarsely, “I accept.”

With his mind gone blank from the shock of being chosen, Shen Wei fell back on the protocol long since beaten into his head. Setting the half-eaten peach and wedding flower aside carefully, Shen Wei shuffled back to bow low, pressing his palms flat against the floor and his forehead to the crack in the stone tiles.

“This humble one thanks Kunlun-jun,” he murmured, flushing hot and cold at the same time.

A soft breeze tickled his neck, reminiscent of lips brushing over his nape.

Kunlun had heard him.

*

The older disciples were allowed to leave the temple on their own once they’d finished their chores, trusted to adhere to their laws. Shen Wei started making use of this only recently. Before, he would leave the temple on his birthdays at Priest Zhou’s urging, who slipped him a small coin pouch to get himself a present from the market. Shen Wei would dutifully find himself an acceptable gift before returning within the hour. Except when he turned sixteen, he met someone there.

Zhao Yunlan was a traveling merchant’s son, who settled in the little town that year after an injury prevented his father from continuing to journey on. While his uncles took over their trade route, Zhao Yunlan helped his father set up shop in the village at the foot of the mountain.

Shen Wei knew he shouldn’t, but he was captivated from the first time he laid eyes on him. To the point where Shen Wei started sneaking out of the temple just to catch a glimpse of the other boy. He would hide and watch as the other fed stray cats, splashed about in the river in too few layers of clothes, or as he charmed the old ladies in the town. Shen Wei was careful to keep his distance, ducking out of view whenever the boy turned in his direction, heart hammering against his ribs and cheeks burning in the noon sun. He thought he was doing a good job at being stealthy, watching the object of his desires from afar.

Until one day Zhao Yunlan caught him at it.

When their eyes met, Shen Wei learned how it felt to be struck by lightning. He couldn't remember what he said when Zhao Yunlan sauntered up to him, distracted by the crinkling of his eyes, the sharpness of his smile, framed perfectly by the dark lines of his beard. He remembered Zhao Yunlan's playful tone as he teased Shen Wei, the warmth of his breath, his skin as he leaned in, close enough to touch but not bridging the gap.

He could remember the dryness of his throat, the difficulty of scraping together an answer, the burning embarrassment at his inability. And he remembered Zhao Yunlan's easy laughter, inviting him to share his joy, kind and soothing and unforgettable.

He remembered the moment their hands touched, the electricity jolting from his fingertips all the way down to his toes. He remembered Zhao Yunlan's fingers intertwining through his as he tugged Shen Wei out of the streets and off to somewhere more private.

After that, they kept meeting clandestinely. Their favourite spot was a meadow not far from the river running by the village, filled with wildflowers and tall grass they could hide in, lying down to chat. Shen Wei didn’t realize what the long looks meant, why his stomach would flutter under Zhao Yunlan’s attention, his skin growing hot and flushed whenever their hands brushed.

More and more often, Shen Wei caught himself staring at Zhao Yunlan’s mouth, wondering what it would feel like to touch those lips with his own.

Purity—of mind, body and soul—was one of the tenets of the temple. They were to devote themselves only to Kunlun's will and their duties at the temple. Thus, young disciples were forbidden to have dalliances. Only once they were well past the age of the choosing ceremony were they allowed to take on spouses, in case Kunlun-jun would prove interested in them. Some of the most devoted priests remained solitary and celibate for the rest of their lives, to better serve their god. Shen Wei knew this, yet he still returned, day after day, snuck out night after night, to spend more time with Zhao Yunlan. Allowed himself to be tempted.

He hadn’t expected to be chosen, though perhaps he should have. Kunlun-jun had always favoured him.

With a heavy heart, Shen Wei set out to meet Zhao Yunlan at their usual place. It would be the last time he saw the other, and the thought left Shen Wei bereft. His chest felt empty, aching, but there was no other way around it. In another world, another life, perhaps they could have been together. Maybe a part of Shen Wei had hoped, if he was passed over in this choosing, that they could settle down together, perhaps adopt one of Zhao Yunlan’s young nephews.

It didn’t matter any longer.

“Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei greeted him with a heavy heart. “I have news.”

“Xiao-Wei! I’ve been waiting for you. Come, sit, I brought you something,” Zhao Yunlan replied, grinning wild and carefree.

Shen Wei’s mouth dried up, his throat constricting around what he was going to say. Wordlessly, he sat down next to Zhao Yunlan, who leaned forward, hiding his gift behind his back.

“Close your eyes,” Zhao Yunlan coaxed, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Shen Wei did, because he trusted whatever Zhao Yunlan was scheming, he would never put Shen Wei into harm’s way. Something light settled on top of his head, and Shen Wei frowned, reaching up for it. His fingers brushed against something soft, smooth, a whole circle of… petals?

Eyes snapping open, he stared at Zhao Yunlan, who grinned back cheerfully.

“Tada!” Zhao Yunlan threw his hands wide in a gesture as if he were presenting Shen Wei.

“Did you…” Shen Wei gulped and trailed off, carefully lifting the flower crown from his hair to inspect it. Yellow and pink orchids were interwoven with magnolia. In the four cardinal directions a chrysanthemum of a different colour each was nearly hidden underneath the other flowers. Heat crawled up Shen Wei’s neck, and he tore his gaze away.

Zhao Yunlan’s wide grin softened into a smile. “Do you like it?”

"I…"

Shen Wei was well-educated for an orphan. He had a thirst for knowledge, devouring every scroll the temple had to offer. Priest Zhou noticed early when he taught Shen Wei to read, back before he was promoted to head priest, and encouraged him at every turn. Most of the temple's literature was related to nature, as this was Kunlun's domain. Shen Wei knew what these flowers needed to be cared for, when they were in season, and most importantly: what they symbolized. Orchids for love and beauty, a sign of unity in marriage. Magnolia to show appreciation, wishing Shen Wei honour and wealth. Both spring flowers were likely to decorate the temple for the wedding ceremony as well.

Chrysanthemum for humility and longevity, but also known as a more… vulgar symbol, it only bloomed in autumn, as far as Shen Wei was aware.

Zhao Yunlan must have paid a fortune to have them delivered from somewhere where they flowered already, or had planned this long enough to preserve them this well from last autumn. Both options tightened the knot in Shen Wei's throat.

“I do,” Shen Wei whispered because that was the truth: He liked it. A lot.

He liked Zhao Yunlan a lot.

Too much.

Zhao Yunlan smirked at him as he sprawled out on his side, patting the grass next to him for Shen Wei to lie down. With his long limbs, he affected the same air as a lazy cat, ready to bathe in the sunlight for the rest of the evening. Shen Wei swallowed, settling down next to him, heart stuck in his throat.

He should tell him.

He didn’t want to. Not yet – later, maybe. He had to tell him before they parted, but first… couldn’t he just bask in Zhao Yunlan���s presence, free of duty and destiny for a handful of minutes?

Zhao Yunlan seemed on board with that plan, chewing on a long stalk of grass and watching him with glittering eyes, smugly pleased as the cat that got the canary. The fact that Shen Wei’s indulgence could affect his friend that much caused Shen Wei’s heart to skip a beat.

“I’ve got something else for you,” Zhao Yunlan announced, a teasing glint in his gaze. “Close your eyes again, c’mon.”

“I shouldn’t…” Shen Wei started, but Zhao Yunlan hushed him with a finger to Shen Wei’s mouth. Despite himself, Shen Wei found his lips quirking up into a fond smile. “These flowers are expensive already, I’m not worth it. Please don’t trouble yourself.”

“Ah? Who said?!” Zhao Yunlan demanded, rearing back in what had to be mock offense. “Shen Wei is worth more than all the treasures on this earth, I could spend my whole life showering him in gifts and it wouldn’t be enough!”

My whole life echoed in Shen Wei’s head like a rung bell. It was hard to breathe past the tightness in his chest. If only Zhao Yunlan had said so before the choosing… but no. Shen Wei would have had to reject him then, too. An impossible decision, torn between his desire for this man’s love and his devotion to Kunlun. Fate was cruel indeed.

“Are you trying to buy me off?” Shen Wei teased instead, trying to change the topic. “You know we don’t value material possessions in my temple, that won’t work.”

Zhao Yunlan mimed being shot in the chest and flopped down on his back, his grin wide and carefree. “So mean, Shen Wei!”

Satisfied, Shen Wei smiled to himself and finally laid down next to Zhao Yunlan, who promptly rolled on top of him. Shen Wei blinked, startled, while Zhao Yunlan leaned in until their noses touched.

“Close your eyes, xiao-Wei,” he commanded softly, and Shen Wei’s heart jumped up in his throat. He shouldn’t. If the priests learned of this… if Kunlun knew…

But… one kiss couldn’t hurt… right? A first kiss, and a kiss goodbye.

Instead of closing his eyes, Shen Wei leaned up and pressed their lips together. It was even more electric than the secret touch of Zhao Yunlan's fingers, light on his skin. A tingle of desire shot down Shen Wei's spine and he surged up to devour Zhao Yunlan's mouth, eyes falling down to half-mast but never quite closed. Not daring to miss even a minute twitch of Zhao Yunlan's expression.

Zhao Yunlan, after an initial moment of surprise, returned his affection with enthusiasm.

After what felt like an eternity, Zhao Yunlan branched out, kissing the corners of Shen Wei's mouth, his cheek, down his neck in an assault of lips and teeth and tongue that left Shen Wei panting and aroused. Hands pinned his shoulders, one palm curling up behind his neck, fingers burying into his long hair; the other trailing down his chest, dipping under the folds of his robes to tease at skin.

Zhao Yunlan bit down on his shoulder, coaxing a moan out of Shen Wei, which he promptly muffled with his own mouth, his eyes burning amber, engulfing Shen Wei in his own desire.

Shen Wei gasped, arching into the touch, forgetting everything but Zhao Yunlan’s lips on his own, his skin burning under the trail of searching hands despite the layers between them. Zhao Yunlan propped himself up on one elbow, and Shen Wei surged up, wrapping one arm around Zhao Yunlan’s shoulders to steady himself, unwilling to let him go. Zhao Yunlan laughed into the kiss, and then moaned as Shen Wei determinedly sucked on his tongue. Clever fingers scrambled with the knot holding Shen Wei’s belt closed, and then the cloth was slipping off, his robes parting for the curious hand that wandered below the waistband of Shen Wei’s pants, searching—

Shen Wei grabbed Zhao Yunlan’s hand, stopping him before he got any further.

Zhao Yunlan broke the kiss, his brow knit into a frown, staring down at Shen Wei in confusion. Shen Wei cleared his throat, letting go of Zhao Yunlan’s shoulders, lowering himself back down to the grass. He busied himself with tying his belt close, tugging his robes back into something resembling propriety.

“Alright there?”

“I’m sorry.” Shen Wei stared back helplessly, hoping the other would understand. “It’s not—it’s not that I don’t want to. I… I can’t.”

Hurt flashed in Zhao Yunlan’s eyes, before his expression smoothed out and he plastered on a crooked grin.

“Ah? If xiao-Wei isn’t ready yet, he can just say so. This more experienced one understands.”

“It’s not that,” Shen Wei corrected hastily, reaching out for Zhao Yunlan, but hesitating, hand hovering half-way between them. Zhao Yunlan glanced down at his hand, then back up, searching his face. “I—I’m promised to Kunlun-jun. I can’t—to do more than… this, that’s… that’s sacrilege.”

Already he was crossing the line by touching, kissing Zhao Yunlan and allowing himself to be touched in turn. Maybe if someone else had been chosen, it wouldn't matter, but now that Kunlun had announced his intent to claim his disciple…

Zhao Yunlan sat back with a huff, crossing his arms. “What’s so good about this mountain god anyway?”

“Yunlan…” Shen Wei blinked, then ducked his head, pulling his knees up to his chest. A smile stretched over his lips, and he couldn’t wipe it away fast enough. Zhao Yunlan was jealous. “He—I owe Kunlun-jun my life.”

“So what, you’re going to pay him back with your body?” Zhao Yunlan grumbled, ripping out grass by the handful. “What sense is there in that?”

“I was chosen,” Shen Wei explained, glancing up from under his fringe. “That’s… rare. A bride is offered to Kunlun-jun every generation, and there’s a high chance they won’t be accepted. To avoid this complication, the priests created a choosing ceremony where we pray for Kunlun-jun’s guidance and favour.”

“And you have his favour,” Zhao Yunlan concluded grumpily, throwing the bundles of grass away. They drifted in the light breeze.

“I do,” Shen Wei agreed softly. He bit his lip, watching Zhao Yunlan from the corner of his eyes. “I—can I tell you a secret?”

Immediately, Zhao Yunlan’s whole demeanour shifted, his body language opening up as he turned to Shen Wei. Their legs brushed, and a thrill shot through Shen Wei from where they touched, separated only by layers of cloth.

“Of course,” Zhao Yunlan said solemnly, meeting Shen Wei’s eyes steadily. “You can tell me anything. Your secrets are safe with me.”

Butterflies fluttered in Shen Wei’s stomach, and he leaned towards Zhao Yunlan, pressing their shoulders together.

“I’ve had Kunlun-jun’s favour for a long time,” he confessed under his breath, gaze drawn to the trees near the river, the leaves swaying in the wind. “He didn’t just save my life, he’s been with me ever since. When I couldn’t sleep due to my nightmares, I’d wander about the garden and fall asleep there on the packed ground, only to wake up on a bed of soft moss in the morning. Once I fell from a tree, only to be caught by branches that weren’t there moments before. The fruit trees will hang low with the ripest fruit when I pass by. Little things like that.”

“I didn’t realize…” Zhao Yunlan started, then trailed off, staring at Shen Wei in surprise. Shen Wei gave him a soft smile.

“I told you before, I was a lonely child, but… I never was truly alone, you know?”

“Huh.” Zhao Yunlan tilted his head, seeming to weigh Shen Wei’s words. He leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Shen Wei’s cheek. “Alright. I guess asking you to elope with me is futile then, eh?”

“I couldn’t.” Shen Wei stared at him with wide eyes, heart beating fast. He knew Zhao Yunlan found him fascinating, of course, he couldn’t deny the attraction between them was mutual. He had, however, assumed that he was just another dalliance, another notch in Zhao Yunlan’s belt. The other was much more worldly and experienced than Shen Wei, and it showed.

He hadn’t realized how serious Zhao Yunlan was about their relationship, forbidden as it was.

By the gods, the idea was tempting. And yet, Shen Wei had promised himself and his life to Kunlun first. That was not a promise he could—or wanted—to break. The moment of hesitation alone was sacrilegious, and Shen Wei was shocked to find his faith, his loyalty to his god wavering in the face of the temptation Zhao Yunlan offered.

“Hmph,” Zhao Yunlan huffed, lying back and wriggling his arm until it laid under Shen Wei’s head. A look at his face revealed a complicated expression: pleased and satisfied, but also conflicted and frustrated. Shen Wei’s stomach twisted. “No, I get it. You have your duties, I have mine. How long do we have?”

It was entirely practical. Shen Wei’s stomach dropped.

“I can’t see you again, Yunlan.” He sat up and stared at Zhao Yunlan, begging for his understanding. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come tonight, but I wanted to see you one last time.”

Zhao Yunlan frowned contemplatively. “Ah? How soon is this wedding?”

“It’s still a month or two,” Shen Wei admitted, ducking his head and avoiding Zhao Yunlan’s piercing gaze. “The date hasn’t been set yet. But… to keep meeting with you… even tonight is one too many. I cannot betray my temple… or Kunlun-jun.”

“A month.” Zhao Yunlan’s voice was flat. Shen Wei’s shoulders climbed up to his ears.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could offer.

“No,” Zhao Yunlan disagreed, hand cutting through the air in a dismissive arc. Shen Wei glanced at him from the corners of his eyes, flinching away from the fury writ large in the furrow of his brows. “That’s unacceptable.”

Shen Wei curled in on himself.

There was a pause, then a warm hand slid down his spine. It reminded him of Kunlun’s warmth during the ceremony, and the comparison curdled like spoilt milk in the pits of his stomach.

“I’m not mad at you, xiao-Wei,” Zhao Yunlan said, his lips close enough to Shen Wei’s ear that he could feel the hot air as he breathed. “I just— I don’t want to wai—”

Movement in the distance cut him off. They both tensed, crouching low in the high grass. Lanterns swayed in the wind on their poles as several people in familiar robes waded through the meadow. Shen Wei’s heart sank, recognizing the garb of his people.

“I need to go,” he told Zhao Yunlan, meeting his gaze with conflicted desperation. “I’m sorry. If they catch us…”

Shen Wei couldn’t finish the thought. His own punishment notwithstanding, Zhao Yunlan would be subject to the priests’ – and Kunlun’s – wrath. The last thing he wanted was to get Zhao Yunlan into trouble.

“Wait,” Zhao Yunlan hissed, but Shen Wei couldn’t. He had dallied for too long already.

Instead, he smashed their lips together in one last, desperate kiss, over far too soon before he dashed off towards the river, keeping low until he could vanish into the nearby bush. Leaving Zhao Yunlan behind to be discovered, but that was alright: as long as they weren’t found together, their secret would remain safe.

And perhaps Kunlun-jun’s favour hadn’t deserted him yet, either. Bushes parted for him, easing his way, while the low-hanging sun covered his escape.

*

Kunlun was furious.

He paced in angry circles around the tree of merits, causing the blossoms to wither and plums to rot from the sheer negativity he radiated. Da Qing, lounging on a low-hanging branch, stretched and yawned, watching him lazily as he paced a groove into the ground.

“It’s your own fault, you know,” the cat pointed out, sounding utterly unimpressed.

“How was I supposed to know he would reject me?” Kunlun seethed, tossing his long sleeves out of his way with a snap as he turned on his heel and rounded the tree counter clockwise. “He didn’t even want to reject me! He was more than eager.”

“He’s not the only one,” Da Qing muttered, folding his paws under himself. Kunlun shot him a peeved look. “What? You’re the one too impatient to wait.”

“He doesn’t even want to see me for a month! Or two!” Kunlun complained, crossing his arms and glaring down the mountain. Clouds hurried out of his way to give him a view of the temple at the foot. “I swear, if those monks make me wait that long…”

The ground grumbled with his displeasure. Da Qing scoffed.

“He doesn’t want to see his human lover because he’s sworn himself to you,” the cat pointed out, tail swishing to the other side of the branch in a move not dissimilar to his owner’s disgruntled flinging of sleeves. “You could have just told him and spared yourself this facade.”

“I was going to!” Kunlun swore, rolling his eyes. “Except then those stupid humans interrupted us…”

“Green isn’t your colour, you know,” Da Qing drawled, chuckling to himself at Kunlun’s unimpressed glare.

“I am a god of nature, you useless ball of fur.” Kunlun drew himself up, returning the tree to full bloom with a careless wave of his hand. “Green is absolutely my colour.”

“Yeah, well, jealousy isn’t pretty,” Da Qing returned, rolling his eyes and leaping off the branch, his heavy weight slamming onto Kunlun’s shoulder with an audible impact. Kunlun didn’t so much as flinch. “Why are you so grumpy? Doesn’t everyone want a loyal wife?”

“Yeah, well, shows what you know,” Kunlun grumbled, even though he couldn’t disagree. His heart swelled at the thought of his xiao-Wei, announcing his loyalty to Kunlun-jun above everyone else, even when Kunlun could read the desire in the strained lines of his body, holding back only because he had sworn an oath of fidelity to Kunlun first.

Not that Kunlun would have minded if his xiao-Wei had welcomed Zhao Yunlan’s touch. His mortal avatar was simply an extension of his own consciousness, Shen Wei wouldn’t have broken any promises even if events had progressed further tonight.

But Shen Wei didn’t know that, and subsequently rejected him.

Kunlun sighed morosely, sitting down on a stone near the tiny body of water next to the merit tree. A wave of his hand set the surface rippling, revealing Shen Wei tossing and turning in his bed. Kunlun frowned, reaching out to soothe the turmoil within his beloved’s dreams. They could have shared a bed tonight, if only he had shown his true self to his most devoted follower.

Instead, he had cockblocked himself.

No wonder Da Qing was laughing himself silly.

The cat was kneading his shoulder now, the tension slowly flowing out of them as Kunlun turned to watch over his Shen Wei. With a thought, he reached out, inserting a sliver of his desire and frustrated arousal into his beloved's dreams, watching as he started shifting again, watching as Shen Wei grew hard under the thin layer of blankets.

He could have had this, if he hadn't let his impulses rule him. If he had explained, instead of simply taken what was his to take.

"How can I wait patiently after having gotten a taste of how sweet my xiao-Wei is?" Kunlun mused aloud, reaching out to touch Shen Wei's face. In his sleep, Shen Wei turned to nuzzle into his palm, mouth gaping open, lips plush and slick. Kunlun licked his own, remembering their touch.

"A ripe, juicy peach, ready for harvest," he murmured to himself, not dodging the swipe of Da Qing's claws.

"Don't tell me that nonesense, I don't want to hear it!" the cat hissed, fur puffing up. Kunlun pushed him off, and in the ensuing scuffle he was temporarily distracted from the viewing mirror.

*

There were three rites of preparation Shen Wei had to pass through before the wedding ceremony.

The first was simple enough, consisting of blessings by the priests and divination rites to find the most auspicious wedding date. The priesthood were determined to have the ceremony during the spring, to avoid making their god wait for longer than necessary. Since Shen Wei’s exact day of birth was unknown, they chose to divine based on his arrival at their temple instead. All in all, it required little participation on Shen Wei’s side. The date they chose was a mere month away, the most auspicious time during spring. Preparations for the ceremony had been in full swing even before the choosing, so Shen Wei wasn’t surprised.

The third rite was something he started dreading every time it came up. It would happen on the day of the wedding itself, and everyone went tight-lipped when Shen Wei requested more information. Priest Zhou refused to meet his eyes when asked, and the scrolls he found only mentioned it was related to the wedding bed. The mystery itself caught Shen Wei's curiosity, but everyone else's reactions made him cautious. Surely, it couldn't be anything too terrible?

He didn't have much time for apprehension, however, with the second rite looming large.

Shen Wei was called to a smaller ritual chamber, one where access was restricted due to the secretive nature of the ceremonies held there. Only the head priests were present, Priest Zhou ushering him inside. The room was perfectly round and mostly empty, a small offering altar set in the middle surrounded by cushions to kneel on. In the middle of the altar, a large candle burned, the scent of beeswax filling the chamber. Three bowls surrounded the candle with small offerings.

“Kunlun-jun’s temper has been more fraught recently,” Priest Zhou explained in a subdued tone, sitting down on a cushion next to Priest Ouyang and gesturing for Shen Wei to take a seat opposite them. “The wedding ceremony has been moved up to the day after tomorrow.”

Everyone had noticed the increased rate of minor earthquakes plaguing the mountain towns and the temple. Shen Wei’s stomach twisted with guilt. They had started the night after he had snuck out to meet Zhao Yunlan, and he couldn’t help but draw the conclusion the two were related.

“First, you have to pass the Rite of Purity,” Priest Ouyang continued gruffly, making a grabbing motion with his fingers. “Give me your hands.”

A greenish cream was dabbed on the meridians at his wrists, his forehead and in the dip of his collarbones. Shen Wei tried not to squirm at the touch. Priest Zhou lit the incense, murmuring a prayer, before lighting the candle in the middle.

"This is the light of truth," Priest Zhou explained, gesturing towards the candle. "Falsehoods will cause it to die. You must be honest answering our questions, child."

Shen Wei gulped and nodded, wiping his sweaty palms on his knees.

"We call upon the steadiness of the mountains, to grant us shelter against the winds of temptation. We call upon the smooth flow of the rivers, to guide us through the tempest. In the eye of the storm of lies, we are anchored by the strength of our faith. Grant us protection, Oh Great One, we bow before your indomitable will."

Shen Wei followed along in the familiar rhythm of prayer and kowtowing, his rapid heartbeat calming down with the same ritualistic steps he was used to.

"Today this young disciple, raised by your faithful followers as was your wish, comes to us to prove his devotion. We have gathered here before you to determine his true worth, that we may only offer you the best of the best, Primordial One," Priest Ouyang prattled on. "It is with utmost humility that we accept your judgement of our efforts to raise him properly, and beg your forgiveness for all his faults…"

With his head bowed low, Shen Wei still saw the way Priest Zhou's brow began to furrow as he continued on and on, likely amending the traditional words as was Priest Ouyang's wont. Shen Wei tuned him out, taking a deep breath and centering himself.

The usual connection he felt to the earth, the plant life around him, which he'd always interpretated as his connection to Kunlun himself… was gone.

Shen Wei frowned in concentration, yet it felt like that familiar, reassuring warmth was slipping through his fingers every time he reached out. His throat closed with anxiety. Had Kunlun-jun withdrawn his favour? Or was it simply that the ritual chamber was well-isolated, putting a barrier between Shen Wei and his sense of nature?

He didn’t know, and it made him anxious.

"Disciple Shen," Priest Zhou gently called for his attention, and Shen Wei hid his guilty flinch at being caught out distracted during such an important ritual. "Are you aware of the rules that govern our temple, the rules that we raised you to follow?“

“I am.”

The flame remained steady, accepting the truth of his statement. Priest Zhou nodded. “Are you aware of the path that has been chosen for you, Disciple Shen, by none other than the great Kunlun himself?” Shen Wei swallowed, but his voice remained steady. “I am.” “And have you obeyed these laws every since you went through the Rites of Devotion, becoming a disciple in Kunlun’s service?”

“I have.”

"Have you remained pure and untouched in body, the way you arrived at our temple when you were granted sanctuary by Kunlun-jun's grace?"

"I—" Shen Wei swallowed. He had, until recently. But did a kiss count?

His hesitation caught the priests' attention. Priest Ouyang narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and Priest Zhou looked alarmed. "Shen Wei?"

Licking his dry lips, Shen Wei gave the expected answer, "My body remains untouched."

The candle flickered ominously, but didn't go out. Shen Wei let out a quiet breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Priest Zhou's shoulders slumped in relief, and he continued with the questions.

"Does your spirit remain pure and devoted to Kunlun-jun—"

"Hold on," Priest Ouyang interrupted, glaring at Shen Wei. Priest Zhou tensed. "That result was inconclusive. Why is that, Disciple Shen? What have you done?"

"Priest Ouyang," Priest Zhou reprimanded, frowning severely. "The rite has rules, guidelines we need to follow. Do not ask unrelated questions."

"Very well," Priest Ouyang acquiesced snappishly, eyebrows dipping down. "Disciple Shen, who does your body belong to?"

"Kunlun-jun," Shen Wei replied honestly. The candle remained steady, and guilt twisted in his chest. He knew the truth, and yet he'd still allowed Zhao Yunlan…

Priest Ouyang's frown deepened. "Are you devoted to Kunlun-jun, and Kunlun-jun alone?"

"I am."

Again, the flame stayed strong, much to Shen Wei's surprise. Warmth settled in his chest, the knowledge that despite his transgressions, his devotion still remained true. Priest Ouyang grimaced in frustration. Priest Zhou set a restraining hand on his shoulder, tone mild but pointed as he spoke up. "Perhaps we can return to the predesignated questions now…?"

However, Priest Ouyang shook him off, sneering.

"And are you able to promise yourself to Kunlun-jun, and Kunlun-jun alone, heart, body, and soul?"

Shen Wei ducked his head, his heart a rapid tattoo in his chest. Phantom lips touched his own, Zhao Yunlan's smile floated before his inner eye. They weren't meant to be together in this lifetime, and that was fine. It was inevitable. Maybe in another life…

"I… yes," Shen Wei mumbled quietly, and the flame flickered… and died.

Silence stretched in the ritual chamber, growing tenser and tenser. Priest Ouyang's shoulders rose with his temper, tighter and tighter, until the thin rope of his patience grew too taut and snapped.

"You dare!" he thundered, jumping to his feet; he jarred the small altar hard enough to upend the offering bowls. Their contents flew every which way and the sound of their rolling echoed through the chamber until they settled.

Shen Wei bowed his head low, not daring to look up, his fingers twisting in his ceremonial robes.

“Shen Wei.” Priest Zhou’s voice trembled, and his face was pale when Shen Wei glanced up at him. “Shen Wei, what have you done?”

“I—“ Shen Wei swallowed, averting his gaze. He didn’t want to see the disappointment on his mentor’s face. “There is… a boy. From the village.” “A boy,” Priest Zhou echoed, lips thin and bloodless. His hands hovered over Shen Wei’s shoulders, as if they couldn’t decide whether to help him up or shake some sense into him. “And… what have you done, with this boy?”

“I love him,” Shen Wei admitted hoarsely.

Smack.

Shen Wei’s head spun around from the force, ears ringing and eyes wide with shock. Something warm trickled down his cheek where Priest Ouyang hit him. “How dare you! Ungrateful, egotistical brat, has not our Lord chosen you? Has not our Lord saved you? And you dare repay his kindness and favour by throwing yourself into the arms of some—some heretic! When you know very well you are supposed to save yourself for Kunlun-jun!” Priest Ouyang was frothing at the mouth with rage. “Traitorous cur, how dare you treat our Lord thusly! Are you nothing more than a common whore, spreading his legs for whoever asks!?”

At that accusation, Shen Wei’s gaze snapped up. “I haven’t…!”

Priest Ouyang raised his hand again, his eyes wild and crazy in his righteous fervour. “Be silent! Haven’t you done enough!?”

“It was only a kiss!” Shen Wei protested, cheeks flushing hotly with shame. He’d known better, of course. This was his own fault. “Only a kiss!” Priest Ouyang thundered, his hand coming down, and Shen Wei closed eyes in anticipation for the sting. It never came “We haven’t a choice,” Priest Zhou pointed out, his voice weak from the shock. He had grabbed Priest Ouyang’s wrist, stopping him from backhanding Shen Wei a second time. “Kunlun-jun chose Disciple Shen, we cannot replace him with another.” “So we are to lie to our Lord!? Pretend this good-for-nothing brat hasn’t broken the most holy of his promises?” Priest Ouyang snarled, tearing his hand free from Priest Zhou’s grasp. Priest Zhou pressed his mouth into a thin line. “We don’t have a choice,” he reiterated, burning gaze landing on Shen Wei, who bowed his head in shame. “Let us pray that Kunlun-jun will be too distracted to notice.”

*

Kunlun entered the ritual chamber with a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder to announce his arrival. He strode past the kowtowing attendants—priests, disciples, servants, none of them mattered. His attention was firmly on the figure kneeling in front of the altar, flanked by the two old priests leading this particular sect. They, too, awaited him on their knees, heads bowed low in respect. A kinder god might have allowed them to rise, but Kunlun ignored them. He wasn’t here for them.

“Rise, my bride,” he bid as he came to a stop in front of them. His watchful eyes caught the sharp inhale when Shen Wei recognized his voice. His head came up first, beautiful face covered with a red veil, hiding what surely had to be a surprised expression. Kunlun offered him a hand, and Shen Wei took it without hesitation, letting him help Shen Wei to his feet.

Kunlun’s gaze roved over Shen Wei, a vision in red and gold and mountain blue-green: wedding colours—and Kunlun’s colours. His hair was pinned up with two beautiful ivory hairpins in the shape of a phoenix and a dragon each, pearls dangling from them and chiming softly in the breeze. Styled with propriety in mind and easy enough for Kunlun to remove should he so desire, he noted approvingly. Further, Shen Wei was decked out in jewelry of jade and gold, a thin necklace highlighting his delicate throat, bracelets and rings decorating his slender wrists and long fingers.

Through the veil, he could barely see Shen Wei staring back at him, wide eyes filled with complicated emotions.

“Let me see your face, beautiful," Kunlun murmured, reaching out to lift the veil. Shen Wei ducked his head, and Kunlun could see the small smile playing around his mouth. Oh, how he yearned to kiss him again. To touch Shen Wei and make him truly his. There had been little space in his mind for anything else since their first kiss, and the damnable revelation that he was forced to wait for tonight. Truly, he only had himself to blame.

Anticipation curled at the base of his spine, like lightning waiting to be unleashed. Kunlun returned Shen Wei's smile as it was revealed, taking in the wetness of his eyes, the joy shining in them. He raised his hand, fingers curled to brush over Shen Wei’s cheek bone, when his gaze fell on a dark slash stretching over his cheek. Smile melting away, Kunlun’s hand hovered over Shen Wei’s cheek, brow furrowing.

Rage crashed over him like a storm. Someone had hurt his love in his absence.

“Who dared,” he ground out between clenched teeth, fury leaking into every word. The attendants flinched, bowing lower and quivering when faced with his wrath, but Kunlun couldn’t care less. He thumbed the hale skin under the gash that marred Shen Wei’s cheek, careful not to hurt his lover. Shen Wei’s lashes lowered over his eyes, hiding the expression within, but he alone didn’t flinch back.

“Who dared,” Kunlun repeated, raising his voice when his first query was met with silence, “to touch. My. Bride.”

His words shook the walls of the temple, his ire reverberating through the room. Several disciples let out pitiful cries, Shenxian, have mercy! Calm yourself, Shenxian! Yet Kunlun paid them no mind, turning Shen Wei’s face to better inspect the wound. It was fresh, but he’d known that, it could be no older than the three days when he'd last viewed Shen Wei through the mirror. Remnants of ointment clung to the edges, a sign that at least the priesthood had enough sense to provide his chosen with some care.

“This unworthy one begs Shenxian for forgiveness,” one of the head priests spoke up into the tense silence, palms flat on the stone and forehead pressed against the tile. Kunlun glanced at him, teetering on the edge of control. He wanted nothing more than to unleash the storm brewing under his skin, tearing everyone in the vicinity apart in his rage. Only Shen Wei’s soft flesh under his fingers, the reminder of how fragile his lover still was, kept him in check.

“Please do not blame this wayward disciple, I did not teach him well, I will shoulder the blame,” the head priest continued nonsensically, and Kunlun frowned. What even…? Did the priest think Kunlun would lash out at Shen Wei for another's transgression? “I beg of you, I will take any punishment you deem fit, my lord, he did not know better.”

Before he could demand clarification, Shen Wei reached up and wrapped his fingers around Kunlun's wrist, his fingertips resting on Kunlun's pulse point. Kunlun's heartbeat picked up at the sheer intimacy, desire curling low in his gut, but one glimpse of Shen Wei's scratched cheek reignited Kunlun's anger. He laid his palm over the wound, letting his divine energy surge to the forefront, healing the injury until not even a scar remained to tell the tale. Shen Wei smiled up at him, gratitude in the soft curve, and he turned to nuzzle Kunlun's palm.

"A misunderstanding, my lord," he murmured soothingly, pressing his lips to the center of Kunlun's palm. "Nothing more."

Kunlun was helpless when confronted with wide, doe eyes, pleading with him to let it go. He might have been persuaded, even, had the annoying old priest not chosen that moment to speak up.

"A misunderstanding!" he thundered, shooting to his feet without being granted permission. Kunlun eyed him coolly. "You dare call it a misunderstanding, you unfaithful wretch, after breaking the tenets of our sect, after breaking faith with our Lord! And even know, you wish to protect that good-for-nothing lout!?"

Kunlun's eyes flared with anger at the insult, but he focused on Shen Wei, who shook his head.

"The name, priest," Kunlun ground out through clenched teeth, "Spit it out."

"Shenxian, I would if I could, but this worthless disciple refuses to part with that knowledge," Priest Ouyang huffed, outrage writ large on his face. "The day he accepted your proposal, my lord, he went out to compromise his purity, spitting on ancient traditions, trampling all over the devotion and piety of even the lowliest of disciples. Please, Great One, forgive us for having failed you, any of the other disciples would be more than happy to serve you, surely an upgrade from this insolent brat who whored himself out to the next best man he could find on the streets to call 'lover'—"

Kunlun's rage rose with every word spoken, teetering on the edge of spilling over. Every insult spat at his bride's feet fanned the flames of his wrath, his patience drawing taut, ready to snap when the diatribe reached its final accusation. And Kunlun. Froze. Holding Shen Wei's gaze for a long beat, the realization sunk to the bottom of his stomach like a stone. Finally, he tore his eyes away from Shen Wei to face the raving priest.

"Lover," he echoed, and then. "A misunderstanding."

“I didn’t know,” Shen Wei agreed, his lips quirking in amusement at his own ignorance. “I thought…”

“But you didn’t,” Kunlun pointed out, narrowing his eyes at the head priest. “Tell me, priest, who took my bride to task for his alleged transgressions?”

The other head priest, Priest Zhou, shuffled over and bowed low. “I’m in charge of Disciple Shen’s discipline, Shenxian. I will take all the responsibility for his behaviour.”

“You are willing to take on this punishment in the perpetrator’s place?” Kunlun demanded, his fingers curling into a fist.

"No need," Shen Wei interjected, his palm settling over Kunlun's chest. Hugging him from behind. Holding him back. "It is a matter of the past. I am here, whole and wholly yours."

“Xiao-Wei,” Kunlun growled in warning, turning in his lover’s arms and catching him by the wrist before he can step back. He would not let himself be distracted so easily. Shen Wei deserved better, deserved for Kunlun to put the one who hurt him into his place.

Clearly, he hadn’t counted on Shen Wei’s stubborn streak, however.

"I have… prepared myself," Shen Wei whispered, a blush crawling up his neck and leaving his ears bright red. He ducked his head, averting his gaze. Letting it drift towards the altar. "For our wedding night."

Heat shot down Kunlun's spine, pooling low in his groin. He watched Shen Wei intently through half-lidded eyes, reaching out and brushing a loose strand behind Shen Wei's ear.

"Oh?" Kunlun leaned in, letting his knuckles graze over unmarred skin. "And were you thinking of me while you prepared yourself?" He brushed a kiss to the corner of Shen Wei's mouth. "Perhaps you imagined they were my fingers instead?"

"I was thinking of Zhao Yunlan," Shen Wei admitted, his quiet voice ringing through the hushed silence. He raised his gaze to meet Kunlun's, wide eyes filled with longing. "Of what might've happened that day, if I hadn't… stopped him." A breath shuddered out of Shen Wei, his lips brushing against Kunlun's, amending under his breath, "Stopped you."

Arousal shivered through Kunlun, an image springing to mind: Shen Wei in his bed, hard and sweating under that thin blanket, perhaps using scented oil to open himself up, Zhao Yunlan’s name on his lips as he breathed through the intrusion—

"You!" Priest Ouyang sprang to his feet, pointing at Shen Wei. Kunlun wrapped one arm securely around his lover's waist, pulling him closer. Priest Ouyang ignored his warning look, frothing with rage. "How dare you! Even now, as you are to be wed to our lord, you dare mention that worthless brat by name!?"

In his rage, Priest Ouyang seemed to forget himself: he flung his arm wide and took aim, moving to snap the back of his hand across Shen Wei’s face and discipline him once more. The ring pronouncing him head of the sect glittered on his finger, dried blood still clinging to the edges. Kunlun eyed it as it came closer, time slowing down as realization unfolded inside him.

“You,” he growled, hand snapping out to snatch Priest Ouyang’s mid-swing. A thunderstorm raged in his gaze as he forced Priest Ouyang to his knees with a wrench of his caught arm, the head priest crying out with pain, wholly unused to such discomfort.

Cold fire licked at Kunlun’s bones, the temperature within the ceremony hall dropping rapidly. The attendants cried out again, a cacophony of Mercy, Shenxian! and other such nonesense. How dare they, asking him to let go of the one who hurt his chosen bride. And was unrepentant enough to repeat the act in front of Kunlun himself! Kunlun’s fingers tightened their grip, the crack of bones audible in the oppressive silence.

Then fingers wrapped around his own wrist, sliding up to cover his fingers. Kunlun was about to snap at the interloper, when his gaze was caught by Shen Wei’s, firm and steady in challenge.

“Mercy, husband,” Shen Wei implored, slowly uncurling Kunlun’s fingers from Priest Ouyang’s wrist.

“After what he’s done to you, you still beg for him?” Kunlun snarled, but the touch of Shen Wei’s fingers on his was rather distracting. He threw Priest Ouyang down carelessly, focussing all his attention on his bride.

“Just this once,” Shen Wei agreed, smiling with his eyes lowered. “They did raise me, for that I am grateful.” His lashes fluttered, a glint of mischief crossing his face. “And murder is such an inauspicious start to our wedding.”

Kunlun scoffed, amusement soothing his roused temper.

“Because it is you who asks,” he declared aloud, waving a dismissive hand through the air, “I will grant mercy this once. But be warned, priest, from hence on you better keep your tongue in check and your fingers to yourself.”

Priest Ouyang puffed up in offense. “Shenxian, I— Allow me to hunt him down for you, now that I have a name—”

Kunlun’s scowl darkened, ready to smite Ouyang where he knelt. Priest Zhou, his gaze darting from Shen Wei to Kunlun back to Priest Ouyang with a dawning expression, intervened smoothly. “We thank you, Shenxian, for your mercy!”

The attendants echoed his cry and bowed low, all but Priest Ouyang, who kept glaring daggers at Shen Wei. Kunlun was not amused, stepping between the hotheaded priest and his lover.

“But—” Priest Ouyang squawked, and Kunlun had enough. With a snap of his fingers, vines wrapped themselves around the priest, one of them smothering the priest’s next words before they could escape. Another snap, and the head priest’s ring melted off his fingers, leaving him writhing in pain.

“My mercy has limits,” Kunlun announced, flicking his sleeve dismissively. “Take him out of my sight.”

Two attendants hurried to follow his orders, bowing and scraping in between their attempts to pry the struggling and tied up priest from his spot. Finally, they had to resort to rolling him out of the altar room.

“Kunlun.” Shen Wei’s tone was mildly scolding, tugging on his sleeve. Kunlun turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, daring him to complain about his methods. A smile flit over Shen Wei’s face and he ducked his chin, shaking his head. The jewelry jingled gently, drawing Kunlun’s attention back to how his bride had been wrapped up like a gift for him.

A gift he had waited for far too long to unwrap.

He raised his voice. “Everyone, out!”

“Kunlun,” Shen Wei objected, smile still firmly in place. “What about the ceremony?”

“I don’t care,” Kunlun declared imperiously, but he felt himself soften at Shen Wei’s hopeful expression. “Unless my bride has a wish...?”

“We haven’t even performed our bows,” Shen Wei pointed out, lowering his gaze demurely. “This humble wife-to-be would ask his husband for patience in fulfilling that rite at least.”

“Aiya, when you ask like that, how could I even think to deny you?” Kunlun grumbled, leaning in to brush a kiss to Shen Wei’s forehead. He’d been forced to wait for several days, he could wait for ten more minutes. “Alright. Since it’s important to you.”

“It is,” Shen Wei agreed, and his smile was prettier than the stars.

Taking Shen Wei’s hand, Kunlun led him before the altar and through the three bows: to a statue of Nüwa, as Kunlun's family, to the remaining head priest for having raised his Shen Wei, and one last one to the heavens.

And then, finally, the last of the attendants bowed out, leaving them alone with bowls full of offerings and a stone altar decked out in wedding silks. Kunlun caugh Shen Wei’s gaze and held it steadily as he helped his bride up the steps to lie down on the altar. Towards the first step of cultivating Shen Wei’s immortality.

The first step of eternity together.