#Part 8 is almost written so it shouldn't be long

[starlightvld]

Bait & Switch, pt. 7

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 >>

Based on "I wasn't in that tunnel."

Call of Duty, soapghost // CW: angst, Hurt/Comfort, MWIII spoilers

---

Soap flashes in and out of consciousness, his body trembling as he alternates between fever and chills. He's vaguely aware of when they pull into a garage, the already-dark night turning pitch black as the door closes behind them. Ghost gently pulls him from the car and Gaz and Price throw his arms over their shoulders as they half drag, half carry him into what looks to be a safe house kitchen. They lead him through the house and lay him on the softest bed he's felt in years.

He passes out immediately.

When he wakes, it's to the thin light of dawn creeping around the curtains and hushed voices behind him.

"Stop worryin'," Ghost says. "Gaz will be fine."

Soap has his back to the room, but from the closeness of Ghost's voice, he gathers that Ghost is in the bed with him. Price's gruff voice replies from somewhere on the far side of the room.

"He's been gone longer than expected."

"Because we weren't sure exactly when the contact would arrive. And without comms or phones, we're operatin' in the blind. He'll be alright."

Price grumbles. Soap shudders as a chill sweeps through him, and an involuntary whine escapes his lips. It's worth the embarrassment, though, when Ghost's warm body sidles up to curl around his back.

"Alright, Johnny?" Ghost murmurs.

"Cold. And hot. And... fuck. Just want this to be over."

"You and me, both. Gaz is working on getting you more saline bags. We grabbed what we could from the hospital, but you're about to run out."

"Wha' 'bout you?" Soap slurs as the heat of Ghost's body pulls him toward oblivion.

"Right as rain. Go back to sleep, yeah?"

Soap hums and drifts off again. The next time he wakes, it's to the scent of something savory wafting through the air. His stomach growls, and behind him, Ghost huffs a laugh.

"You awake or just gurglin' in your sleep?"

"'M awake," Soap mumbles, turning to face Ghost.

A long tube snakes out from under the covers, and Soap realizes Gaz must have returned with the saline bags while he was sleeping. He must've made a supply run as well.

"Any news?" he asks as he gingerly pushes himself up to lean against the headboard next to Ghost.

"Nothing worth mentionin'. We're here until Laswell thinks it's safe enough to move again. She's narrowin' down the possible traitor or traitors, but it's slow work."

Soap just nods as Ghost turns and hands him a bowl of rice and chicken covered in a mild sauce. Another growl from his stomach interrupts the quiet of the room, and Soap gladly tucks into the meal. When he finishes, Ghost takes the bowl and sets it off to the side.

"More?"

"No' right now."

A quiet permeates the space between them, but it's not uncomfortable. Ghost gingerly adjusts himself against the headboard, and then softly, quietly, he moves his hand to rest over Soap's on the mattress. 

The touch shouldn't feel so mind-shattering. He's been sleeping in Ghost's arms for two days now and even kissed him. But something about the way Ghost's warm hand curls around Soap's feels like the most significant thing to happen to him since Makarov stole him away from the 141 and broke him.

The quiet lingers. Soap breathes through the pressure in his head and turns his hand, slotting their fingers together. The world slows to the faint beat of a pulse against his fingers and the rise and fall of Ghost's chest in his peripheral vision.

"Don't know what's goin' on in that head of yours," Ghost murmurs, "but I wanted to make sure you know... nowt's changed for me when it comes to you. If you feel different—"

"I don't," Soap interrupts. "Feel different, I mean. If anything, I'm probably gonna be a clingy bastard for a long while."

A pink tongue darts out to wet Ghost's lips. It strikes him then that Ghost isn't wearing a medical mask any more. Soap turns to study Ghost's profile, and Ghost nods, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"S'alright with me, Johnny. If we're bein' honest, I'd rather not let you out of my sight ever again."

Soap nods and leans over, resting his head on Ghost's shoulder. "Fine by me."

The soft pressure of lips against his shaved head is almost as good as the warmth of their fingers tangled together.

---

It takes a week to wean Soap off Makarov's drugs, but to his frustration, the withdrawal symptoms don't abait much: headaches, chills, irritability, and worst of all, hallucinations. They're mild — just blurs of motion in of the corner of his eyes or vague figures hovering in shadows — but it's enough to be dangerous, especially when they're being actively hunted. Luckily, Ghost is always there to reassure him. Gaz teases them about being attached at the hip, but he can see the underlying concern when Gaz looks at him.

They all look at him like that, though. Like he might disappear on them. It's fine, though, because Soap pretty much feels the same way about them.

He's still waiting to wake up in a pile of his own excrement and find that everything was a dream.

Ghost's wound is also improving day by day, and he's started mild exercises to keep up his strength. Soap joins him when he can, desperate to stay strong. Desperate to be able to fight. 

He can't go back. He won't. 

They have their own room, but in spite of Soap's bravery with their first and only kiss, he decides it's best to let Ghost take the lead any anything further, especially considering Ghost's wound. They curl up together each night, becoming more comfortable invading each others' spaces, but Ghost keeps his hands limited to the non-erogenous zones and his lips confined to soft kisses to Soap's head, forehead, or occasionally the corner of his mouth. Soap reminds himself of Ghost's words — that nothing has changed — and tries to be content.

The days pass slowly, and they're all going a bit stir crazy by the time Laswell wakes them before dawn and tells them to pack up. They obey without a word. The house is already clean — they've been treating it like an op where they could be called away at any moment, and it pays off. Within ten minutes, they've got their personal items packed, the fridge contents packed into a cooler, and as many surfaces as they can reach wiped down for finger prints. It won't stop a detailed search, but it will slow their enemies down if they find the place.

Ghost and Soap move as a unit, piling into the car in their previous positions. Gaz and Price swap out so Price can drive. Laswell continues to be closed lipped about everything from her spot in the passenger seat, and whether it's because she suspects listening devices or just doesn't think they need to know, he can feel the tension rolling off of her as she turns around and hands each of them a gun and several clips.

"I hope we won't run into trouble, but I'm not taking any chances. If we're separated, RV at these coordinates." She rattles off a series of numbers, and Soap repeats them in his head to solidify the information as Laswell continues, "And trust no one but each other. No old friends. No family members. Anyone outside this vehicle is suspect. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the three echo in unison.

Laswell nods, turns back around, and closes her door. The interior light switches off, leaving nothing but the dim light of the dashboard as a bastion against the darkness.

Soap stares at the soft glint on the barrel of the gun is in his hand.

His palm curls around the grip, finger placed carefully away from the trigger. His heart beats in his ears as the garage door opener grinds into motion, the slow dawning of morning light permeating the space.

The gun in his hand gains shape, hard lines mixed with gentle curves revealed by the growing light. A whisper of reflex, of ground-in instruction, urges him to flip off the safety, curl his finger over the trigger, and eliminate his targets.

He sucks in a hard gasp and shoves the gun at Ghost.

"C-c-c-annae have it. Not yet."

Ghost doesn't even blink as he leans forward and shoves the gun in the waistband of his trousers at the small of his back. "More for me. If somethin' happens, you stick to me like glue, right Johnny?"

Soap feels Gaz's eyes on him, but it's Price whose gaze collides with his in the rearview mirror. "Alright, Soap?"

"Y-yeah. Stick to Ghost."

It takes ten minutes for his hands to stop shaking.

---

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 >>

[mint-yooxgi]

{6} - Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader - Final

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 16,687

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

The village is eerily quiet. Not a single lamp is lit, nor even a breeze drifts through the dark stillness of the night as a singular shadow creeps through the streets. It’s almost as if the inhabitants no longer reside in the town as they all rest in their beds, unaware of the raging storm that approaches with every step.

Mingi’s resolve is deadly calm. That red sash covers his forehead, tying his hair back to keep it out of his face for what he prepares to do.

He left you back in his realm, nestled up under that tree by the spring. Sure, he may have stretched the truth a little bit about the tea, but he didn’t want you waking up while he was gone. At least he knows this way you’ll also sleep through the night, his glamour that he left on you protecting you from prying eyes.

There is no limit to his fury, sharp eyes blazing beneath the light of the moon as he stalks through the town centre. He’s always been good at tracking, and he makes sure to put his skills to good use this night as his gaze zeros in on the large house on top of the hill. 

You were right, this is quite a small town. No more than about sixty inhabitants. Surprisingly, no children. A fact which will only make his job here much easier.

Stealth is his top priority right now as he covers ground with each step, plotting out every escape route and figuring out how best to bottleneck his prey into his awaiting trap.

As the moon crests high in the sky, a true monster gets unleashed.

Shrill screams of pure terror fill the air as claws render flesh from bone. Blood splatters against walls, painting the night in crimson florals, the heavy stench of death permeating the air. No matter how desperately they plead for their lives, none survive, and by the time Mingi makes it up the hill, he is covered in viscera from his brutal kills.

The most satisfying death, he saves for last.

Mingi knows the man can hear him coming. The shrieks from the town down below would’ve reached his ears by now, filling him with a sense of dread. There is no escaping the hunt, and your husband is about to find out what it truly means to be reduced to absolutely nothing.

The sound of the door shattering as it gets kicked in causes the already pertinent fear Mingi can smell radiating through the house spike. The man cowers pathetically in his room, the exits having long since been sealed by the fae in preparation for the decimation that is about to take place.

Stepping through the doorway, Mingi stands there, letting the light from the moon illuminate his massive figure. The way the man screams in horror when he sees Mingi’s blood-soaked appearance only causes a malicious grin to pull at the redcap’s lips.

“Found you.” Mingi’s expression is downright maniacal, his eyes glinting wildly in the darkness.

The man cowers back, attempting to push himself further into the wall as Mingi takes a menacing step forward.

“Who sent you?” His voice is frantic, eyes wide with tears as they begin to spill down his face. “What do you want?”

Mingi’s grin stretches wider across his features, his tongue darting out to taste the blood covering his lips. “I’m here to collect on a debt.”

“A debt?” The man frowns, heart rate accelerating in panic.

“You hurt something of mine,” Mingi’s voice is but a low drawl as he stalks towards the shaking man huddled in the corner. “Something very precious to me.”

“Is it money? Money that you want?” The man’s eyes dart every which way around the room, looking for a possible exit. “I can give you all the riches you desire-“

“Stupid human.” Mingi hisses. “As if money could ever pay for the life you stole.”

There is no escape. Not now. Not ever. Especially not for this coward.

“What are you-“ Confusion tugs at the man’s brow for a brief moment before realization is settling over his features. “That bitch! She sent you!”

In the blink of an eye, Mingi has him pinned against the wall by the throat. The force at with he pins the man causes cracks to appear in the plaster, chunks falling to the ground in a rain of dust.

“Speak of her like that again, and I will ensure to draw this out for as long as possible.” The words are but a low growl on Mingi’s lips, claws digging into the skin of the man’s throat.

Desperately, the man begins to struggle. His hands attempt to tear Mingi’s own from his throat, clawing at the fae uselessly as his legs kick in the air.

“What did that whore promise you?” The man chokes out, struggling for breath. “One round with that cunt and you’re ready to kill for her?”

Mingi snarls, tightening his grip over the man’s throat as his vile blood begins to coat his hands.

“I bet she’s making you work for it. That’s why you’re doing this, isn’t it?” The man taunts, blood beginning to spill from his lips as Mingi nearly slams him through the wall a second time. “Stupid fucking whore was the easiest lay I ever had in my life. I feel bad for you. She normally spreads her legs for any man-“

“I am not a man.”

The words are spat out harshly, Mingi throwing the man behind him onto the floor. A satisfying crack echoes throughout the room, and the man cradles his one wrist to his chest, whimpering pathetically.

A wild grin stretches across blood red lips, eyes crazed as Mingi looks at the human from over his shoulder.

“Run, little rabbit,” Mingi’s voice drawls lowly, fangs glinting in the moonlight. “The beast wants to play.”

Without hesitating, the man scrambles to his feet, darting out of the open door of his room. Mingi can hear his laboured breathing as he nearly trips down the stairs, and the fae cannot help but laugh.

Little does this human know what Mingi has in store for him.

Slowly, Mingi begins creeping out of the room, and down the stairs. Once he reaches the bottom, he tears a wooden post from the banister, snapping it near the tip. He tests the point against the pad of his thumb, humming to himself as he stalks outside.

Desperately, the man scrambles to get away, nearly tripping over his own two feet.

Spinning that pole in his hand, Mingi reels back. The rod strikes like lighting through the air, hitting its intended target and causing the man to go tumbling the rest of the way down the hill.

An ominous hum is all the man hears approaching him as he attempts to crawl away. His hands tear through the dirt, uprooting the grass as he tries, and fails, to pull himself towards the edge of the woods and to a false sense of safety.

A sharp cry of pain rings out through the night air as Mingi steps on the back of the man’s calf, right where that wooden bannister now protrudes.

“And here I thought you would put up more of a fight,” Mingi hums, almost disappointedly. “Pathetic.”

A satisfying snap echoes through his ears, and the man shrieks as his tibia breaks from the force of Mingi’s full weight stepping onto it.

“I suppose we won’t need this anymore,” Mingi say lowly, tearing the wooden post from the man’s shin and snapping it in further half.

Another scream pierces the air as the man’s hands get pinned to the earth using each half of the now split banister. His legs uselessly kick out behind him, stuck flat against the ground on his stomach as whimpers and pleas to spare his life fall on deaf ears.

Reaching down, Mingi tears open the back of the man’s shirt, exposing his bare flesh. A sick, twisted grin cuts itself onto his features as he runs a clawed hand over the unmarred skin, and he feels the man shudder in terror beneath him.

“What are you-“

A sharp cry of pain causes the man to cut his words short. Mingi, having stood back to his full height, snapped the man’s other ankle, crushing it with his foot.

For a frightening long moment, all is silent. Not even the trees sway with a breeze, nor does a single creature make a sound. The weight disappears from the man’s foot, and the ominous chill that creeps down his spine only makes waiting to see what happens to him next all the more horrible. All that can be heard are the man’s desperate and miserable whimpers, begging to be set free.

A sharp snapping sound, like thin leather suddenly being pulled taunt, silences the man’s pleas. Cold, dreaded realization settles deep within his core, and he begins thrashing violently at the fae’s feet.

The world stops.

“For My Beloved Blossom.”

The sharp crack of the whip slices through the air.

Once.

Twice.

As many times as it takes until Mingi is satisfied.

Flesh renders from bone, blood splattering the once green earth bright red, and splattering all over his face. His features are schooled into a look of pure concentration, anger radiating off of him in waves as he finally shreds this disgusting excuse of a creature apart.

The stench of blood fills his burning lungs, pieces of bone chipping amongst the torn flesh with every strike. Chunks of skin cover his face, his hair stained red as he revels in the horrific shrieks of his mutilated prey.

Still, Mingi does not stop.

Only when the man’s entire spine is visible does Mingi toss aside the whip and switch to his bare hands. He knows the bastard is already dead, but that does not stop Mingi from tearing out his spine, or ripping him limb from disgusting limb.

Nothing is too much right now, and even in death, Mingi does not want this man to find peace.

He hurt you, and for that, he must pay. They all must pay.

Bathing his sash in the blood of his kills has never felt so satisfying in his entire life. He takes his time, moving through the village to soak the strip of cloth in each of his victim’s remains, humming lightly to himself as he does so. Mingi purposely both starts and ends with that bastard, dipping his cloth through what’s left of the man’s scattered remains before setting the whole place on fire.

As the flames blaze brightly in the early hours of the morning, Mingi has one final stop to make.

The glow of the raging inferno behind him is nothing more than a spec in the distance as he comes across an empty field. Fireweed covers the vast expanse of land, some patches of earth still charred from the blaze that stole your happiness from you some time ago.

Softly, his gaze scans the area, walking through the weeds now growing through what once was a beautiful field of your favourite flowers. His eyes catch on a single stem growing through the ash, and his breath catches in his throat.

The sun begins to rise.

Falling to his knees, Mingi stares down at the lone red spider lily that blooms almost defiantly within that field of wreckage.

A single teardrop falls to the earth, wetting the soil just beside the flower. It is followed by another, and then another, until the tracks cut lines into the blood staining his face.

Ever so gently, Mingi begins to dig. Dirt coats his fingers, getting stuck beneath his nails as he carefully pulls that plant from the earth. He cradles the root bulb in his hands tenderly, smiling softly down at the flower which now holds so much meaning to him, too.

Turning back to face the woods, Mingi begins the short journey back to you. Back to his home.

***

The light of the early morning sun peeks through the leaves of the trees around you. Warmth pools over your skin with every shifting beam, the gentle sway of the breeze caressing your entire body. The sound of birds chirping fill the skies, and you can faintly hear a gentle hum from the wildlife resting nearby.

Slowly, the environment begins to rouse you, the scents and sounds of the early morning calling you back from sleep’s warm embrace. Your one hand holds onto that stem of spider lilies, and you curl in closer to yourself. Only, something feels different.

Blinking your eyes open, you rub lightly at your face. A yawn escapes you, and you sit up only to realize what’s been wrong this whole time.

Mingi is missing, and you cannot find him anywhere in your immediate line of sight.

A light frown tugs at your features. Your mind is still heavy with sleep, so it takes you a moment to properly gather your bearings. 

Mingi must have just gone off to gather some supplies for the start of your daily journey. He normally has breakfast for the both of you ready by the time you wake up, anyways.

Movement from the bushes off to your right draws your attention. The sound of something approaching you through the woods grows louder, and your heartbeat accelerates. It sounds like it’s moving slowly, carefully, almost as if it’s stalking towards you.

Moments later, a large figure steps through the trees covered in blood. A red sash is tied around his forehead, and in his hands rests the most beautiful bloom that you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Mingi!” Your eyes go wide, worry immediately pulling at your features as you scramble to your feet.

Slowly, the fae in question lifts his head. His features are soft, mild concern tugging at his brow as he sees you rushing towards him. He’s well aware of what seeing him covered in blood does to you, and he was hoping to get back before you woke up. He wanted to clean himself off before you saw him like this, but at the way your hands frantically run over his chest and up to his neck, he knows that in this moment, you’re not scared of him.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Your voice is still lined with sleep, but the panic comes through loud and clear. “I woke up, and you were gone.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Blossom.” He says gently, a tender smile pulling at his lips as he looks down at you. “I was hoping to be back before you rose.”

“Mingi,” your eyes search his face, trailing over the blood and chunks of flesh clinging to his skin and embedded in his hair. “What happened?”

Shifting the flower he holds to rest in one hand, he tentatively reaches towards you. Hesitantly, the tips of his fingers caress the curve of your cheek as he stares at you with the most satisfied, loving look resting on his features.

“There was some business I had to tend to,” his voice is soft, his eyes searching your own. “A village that needed cleansing.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat inside of your chest. Your gaze trails down to that lone flower resting in his one hand. Only, instead of feeling any sort of fear, or unease, you can only feel relief.

You take a deep breath in, and notice that beneath the stench of iron, Mingi also smells faintly of ash.

“Are you-“ Your voice catches. “Are you hurt?”

A soft chuckle falls from his lips. “As if they could ever hurt me.”

You shoot him a look in return, worry still clear in your eyes.

“No, Blossom,” he smiles, cupping the side of your face gently. “I am not hurt. Please, do not worry about me.”

A light exhale escapes you, and your eyes fall shut. “I’m glad.”

“No longer will any monsters ever haunt you,” his voice is low, and full of the deepest form of sincerity that you’ve ever heard someone speak to you with. “No monster will even hunt you again. I made damn well sure of it.”

Your brow furrows slightly in response, searching his features for an answer hidden beneath all of this gore.

That’s when it hits you. That’s when you fully accept the reality being presented to you.

“There’s nothing left of them, Blossom,” he tells you gently, that same look of undying love and loyalty resting deep within his eyes. “I made sure to burn them all to the ground.”

For a moment, you forget how to breathe.

“They cannot hurt you anymore.”

Your fingers begin to tremble lightly against the skin of his chest, the familiar sting of tears pricking at your eyes. All you can do in this moment is focus on the fae before you, covered in blood and guts, and all in the name of your honour.

He fought for you.

He punished those who have long since ignored you, beaten you down, and destroyed your sense of self worth.

He turned those that made you feel like you were nothing into nothing themselves, and now, all that is left of them is naught but ash and dust.

Silence stretches on between the both of you as you continue to stare at him. 

Mingi is conscious of every movement you make, of every slight hitch in your breath and every twitch of your fingers against his skin. His hand still cups the side of your face, and he worries, for a brief instance, that what he’s admitted to doing has just pushed you further away.

Only, just as he goes to pull his hand away, you lean into his touch.

Despite the dirt, despite the blood, ash, and other viscera that clings to his skin, you turn your head, placing a gentle kiss onto the palm of his hand.

This time, it’s Mingi’s turn for his breath to catch in his throat.

“Come on, Min,” you breathe out, reaching your own hand up to cup his gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Taking his hand into yours, you lead him over to the edge of that spring you bathed in together last night. 

Turning back to him, a soft smile graces your features. Carefully, you reach out your hands and he immediately places that single spider lily into your palms.

“It was growing-“ he swallows, voice thick with emotions that you understand all too well. “In the field that was burned, it was growing. I- I had to bring it back home to you. For you.”

“For us. For our home.” You glance upwards from the flower to stare into his eyes, and the way you see his expression soften at your words makes you smile. “Thank you, Mingi. Thank you. No one has ever-“ your voice catches slightly, and you blink away your sudden tears. “It truly means a lot.”

“It’s as I’ve said before, Beloved,” His lips tug upwards tenderly in the corners. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

You nod softly, eyes crinkling in joy. 

“As terrifying as it is for me to admit,” you breathe, smiling down at that flower in your hands, “I’m starting to believe you.”

A slight grin pulls onto his features, chuckling lowly. 

“How happy I am, then, to make you believe.”

You return his soft look, moving to place this flower with the other you left resting by the tree. By the time you turn back around, Mingi has already stripped himself of his soiled clothes and is waist deep in the spring. His back faces you, and you cannot help but to let your eyes roam over the unmarked skin for a moment longer than you probably should.

Swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat, you hurry back over to the edge of the spring. Rolling up your pants to just above your knees, you sit on the rocks lining the mouth of the spring, dipping your feet into the cool water.

Lightly, you kick your legs beneath the surface, causing ripples to form. The way Mingi turns to smile at you, face still covered in blood and grime doesn’t deter you at all. In fact, it only makes your heart skip another beat inside of your chest.

For once, the blood is not your own. There is no monster coming to hurt you, or hunt you down. That blood has been spilt for you, and you cannot deny the relief that floods your veins when you think about it. Not only that, but gratitude.

All of your life you wanted someone to fight for you. To protect you, and bring justice to those that wronged you for so long. Which is exactly why you can only feel elated at the fact that such a ‘monster’ would do something so personal for you.

He cares, and he’s more than proved it.

Too many times you’ve fantasized about taking control of your own life. You wanted the power to make your own decision, and to be able to get back at those who have wronged you. You resented them, and you wanted for them feel even an ounce of the same pain that they made you feel.

They did, and all because of Mingi. Because one other person - a fae, no less - could see, and decided, that you had worth.

Your heart swells in your chest, and you glance that red band laying beside you in the grass. The material is certainly darker than you remember it being last night, and given the colouration, you can tell that the strip of cloth is still wet in certain spots.

You don’t know why, but it makes you smile.

Turning your attention back on the fae in front of you, you motion him closer.

Slowly, Mingi walks over to you. He had been resting with his shoulders beneath the water, so once he stood, small trails of pink droplets had begun to cascade down his chest, mixing with the blood still marring his skin.

Once he’s close enough, you reach out and take his hand.

Wordlessly, you begin to bathe him just as he did with you last night. Your touch is nothing short of tender, scrubbing the dirt and blood from his skin and from beneath his nails. When you ask, he even unsheathes his claws to show you, and all you can do is marvel at how sharp they are.

A mental image of these claws tearing through the people of your village fills your mind. Though, instead of feeling disgust, or horror at such a gruesome act, you can only feel pride.

These claws are meant for you. They will tear through anyone or anything that threatens your safety, or makes you unhappy. They will always protect you, and never will they be used on you in such gruesome ways. A fact which only warms your heart the more you think about it, settling happily into this moment with Mingi before you.

Once you have finished washing his hands, you move onto his torso, working your way up his body until you reach his head. At this point, he kneels before you, making the reach much easier for you while revelling in the way your fingers thread through his hair.

Small pieces of bone are removed from his blond locks, which are now tinted the faintest shade of red in certain spots from the amount of blood that had covered him. The damp strands are pushed away from his face once you’re done, his sharp eyes staring up at you with nothing but adoration as he watches you clean him up.

Really, Mingi could get used to this. Coming back to you after a hunt is a dream come true, and the idea that you could be doing this with him every time only serves to make his heart race inside of his chest. The fact that he hasn’t scented any fear or unease from you since he’s return makes his whole body come alive, falling even deeper for you with every passing second.

“Okay,” your gentle voice manages to pull him out of his thoughts. “Done.”

Water cascades down the plains of his chest as Mingi stands back to his full height. Droplets cling to the ends of his hair, dripping onto your clothed thighs as he leans into you. An arm rests on either side of your torso, yet, despite his closeness, you do not feel trapped.

“Have I ever told you how incredible you are?” He keeps his tone low, voice rumbling from deep within his chest.

Your eyes shine, glancing up at him through your lashes. You can feel your heart swelling with warmth, and you cannot prevent the way a subtle heat rises to your cheeks.

A hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb languidly stroking over your cheek.

Still, he leans into you.

“I never want you to forget how special you are,” he breathes out, placing his forehead gently against your own. “How special you are to me.”

Your gaze, which had been shyly averted to your lap, lifts back up to meet his own.

“Did you really do it?” The words are naught but a whisper on your lips. “Did you really kill them all for me?”

“None of them deserved to life for a second longer for what they did to you,” his fingers press a little firmer against the skin of your cheek, and he steps closer. “I would do it all over again, too. As many times as it took, until you are satisfied.”

Slowly, carefully, you lift your hands to his face. Your eyes search his own, and nothing but sincerity shines behind his gaze. A fact which only causes the warmth in your chest to grow even further, beginning to spread outwards and all the way down to the very tips of your fingers.

“I care about you, My Blossom,” he repeats these same words to you now, just as earnestly as the first time. “I want to see you thrive, to see you bloom.”

“You… wish to be with me?” Your voice is a little hesitant, unsure of the words you seem to be speaking right now.

“More than anything,” he breathes out, and you can feel his warm breath ghost against the skin of your lips.

“You… want me?” The question is innocent enough, but his response is immediate.

“In any and every single way you’ll let me.” The words are but a low growl on his lips, dark eyes staring deeply into your own.

“You… want to-“ you pause for a moment, steadying your nerves, “belong to me in the same ways you would like for me to belong to you?”

Mingi takes a shuddering breath in, his eyes slipping closed. “Desperately so.”

Your lips part, tongue darting out to wet them.

“Are-“ you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, “Are claims mutual?”

“Yes,” his reply is instantaneous, albeit a little airy. “Claims are-“ his tongue darts out to swipe against his bottom lip, “Claims are meant to be mutual between all parties involved. That’s how they are always intended to be, as they are the most sacred of bonds we can share with another.”

Softly, you nod your head, hands sliding down his cheeks and over his neck to rest on his shoulders. You can feel him shiver beneath your touch, stepping in even closer to you.

“When I say I want to claim you…” his eyes slip closed, revelling in the way your thighs part for him so that he can slot himself between them. “I have always intended, and will always mean for it to be mutual. I do not own you. You are not meant to be my possession. I do, however, desperately wish to be able to call you mine.”

The inhale you take is soft, hands tightening ever so slightly over his shoulders.

A moment passes in silence, letting his words wash over you. There is no doubt in your mind about what you want right now, and the answer is standing right before you, pouring his soul into every word that he speaks.

“Mingi…” 

The call of his name is so tender from your lips, that all he can do is hum in response. 

“I wish for you to claim me.”

There is no denying the way Mingi’s breath hitches. In fact, you swear he stops breathing completely, his eyes flinging open to stare deeply into your own. Not even a moment later, you can feel his chest beginning to heave with every breath, lips parting as he attempts to control himself for your sake.

“Are you-“ his tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaning the slightest bit further into you. “Are you sure?”

The way that he asks, that he’s making sure that this is something you do want, only serves to warm your heart, and solidify your decision.

You smile, repeating back to him the same words he spoke to you earlier this morning. “More than anything.”

You physically feel the way his heart skips a beat in his chest, the pounding resonating beneath your fingertips. You swear you can also feel him beginning to tremble beneath your touch, both of his hands coming up to cup your face tenderly.

“You do not know how happy you’ve made me, hearing you say that.” He says lowly, tilting his head forward so that your noses brush.

The corners of you lips tug upwards, fingers dancing lightly along his skin.

“Anything you want, everything you desire, is yours.” He whispers, his lips barely brushing over your own.

A small gasp parts your lips, your eyes hooding over as you briefly glance downwards at his own.

“I just want you,” the admission is but a sigh on your lips, wrapping your arms fully around his shoulders as your fingers begin to thread through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You swear a soft moan tumbles from him.

“Then, My Dear Blossom,” he steps impossibly closer. “May I kiss you?”

Your lips quirk upwards, heart swelling with warmth inside of your chest. The fact that he even asked, after everything you’ve been through…

“I would love nothing more.”

Instantly, his lips are on your own. One of his hands slides down the side of your neck, softly tracing over your shoulder and down the curve of your spine. His large hand splays against your lower back, pulling you in closer as he presses himself fully against you.

Water seeps into the material of your clothing, but you don’t care. Not with the way he’s kissing you to lovingly, holding onto you as if you are the most precious thing he has ever had the pleasure to experience in his life. 

From the way you can feel his fingers trembling lightly, his cock twitching against the skin of your thigh, you know that to him, you are.

His touch is gentle as he moves his lips over your own, your hands tangling in his locks to pull him in even closer. Yet still, he doesn’t push you too hard, easily letting you pull away if need be. 

Never does he want you to feel trapped with him. Always, it will be your choice.

Your choice to let him kiss you, to let him touch you.

Your choice to let him claim you, and for you to claim him.

Your choice to be with him, and to let him be with you.

You are his entire world, and he will do everything in his power to make sure you know just that. A fact of which he never wants you to forget.

He parts from you only to begin trailing his lips over your cheekbone and down to your jawline. His nose nuzzles gently over your skin, taking a deep breath in as your scent begins to completely overwhelm him in the best of ways.

Gently, he dips his head lower, placing tender kisses over the side of your neck and directly over your pulse. He can feel the way it flutters against his lips, and he cannot help but smile against your skin.

Taking another deep breath in, Mingi’s eyes flutter closed. A soft moan escapes him, and his free hand comes to settle on your waist, thumb brushing over the fabric of your shirt gently.

“I don’t-“ he swallows audibly, “I don’t want to push you too far, Blossom, but I fear that if we continue like this, then I won’t be able to stop myself from acting on my deeper desires.”

Your hands tighten in his hair, and you feel him shudder beneath your fingertips. “What is it that you desire, Min?”

A low groan escapes him, and he presses his face deeper into the side of your neck. “You, completely relaxed, and letting me take care of you like you’ve always deserved.”

Your breath catches lightly in your throat, and you pull him impossibly closer.

“I want to touch every inch of your skin, and show you how beautiful you are to me.” He continues lowly, his lips ghosting along the skin of your neck. “I wish to drown you in an ecstasy you never knew possible until you gave me the honour of pleasing you. I wish to give myself to you fully, and in return, I hope that you will give yourself to me, too.”

His name escapes you as no more than a gasp, expression softening as he pulls away to stare deeply into your eyes.

“I never want to push you too far, or make you uncomfortable. I would rather burn alive than ever take advantage of you like that.” He leans in to rest his forehead on your own once more. “I only want your pleasure, and if at any point you are uncomfortable, or you want to stop, you immediately let me know.”

The emotions that fill your chest overwhelm you, and you cannot help the tightness that you feel building within your throat. Tears well in your eyes, and you find yourself blinking them away rapidly while nodding your head.

You’ve never felt this deeply cared for, nor understood in your life.

“I will,” you manage to swallow the emotions that threaten to choke you out at any second. “I promise.”

Softly, Mingi smiles, leaning forward to peck your lips.

“Likewise, if there’s anything that you want me to do for you, Blossom,” he breathes out lightly. “All you have to do is ask.”

Again, you nod your head in understanding.

“I will never take more than what you are willing to give, and I will never give more than what you are willing to take.” He says gently, his hands sliding down you body to settle along the sides of your thighs as he pulls away to stare down at you. “I love you. I care about you deeply. I never want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

Your heart feels as if it’s about to burst forth from your chest, eyes shining with nothing but pure awe and appreciation. Your hands slide down the front of his chest, settling along his waist as you tug him in closer, wrapping your legs around him while meeting his gaze.

“Mingi,” the call of his name from your lips is so tender, even the birds seem to stop their morning songs to listen. The silence of the clearing seems to swell around you, and you take that final leap, knowing that he will be right there to catch you. “I am in love with you, too.”

Mingi swears that he forgets how to breathe. His heart simply flutters inside of his chest, and tears of his own well in his eyes. A happy laugh escapes him, the smile that pulls at his lips one that is not easily contained.

Leaning into you once more, Mingi presses his lips to your forehead. He lets his touch linger for as long as possible, pouring everything that he wants to say into the press of his skin against your own. He holds you tightly, eyes falling shut as a cascade of happiness spills over his cheeks.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles against your forehead, and not even a second later, he’s littering tender kisses all over your face, repeating the phrase with each one.

Your soft giggle is music to his ears.

The moment Mingi presses his lips to yours, you gladly wrap your arms back around his shoulders. You allow him to set the pace, grateful to be held in his embrace just like all of those times before. 

His kiss is soft, taking his time to fully explore your mouth as his tongue moves languidly against yours.

You hum, feeling his hands trail up your thighs and slip beneath the material of your shirt.

A sudden heat rises to your cheeks at the thought that drifts through your mind.

“Mingi,” the gentle call of his name draws his attention, and he pulls away to stare into your eyes. “Can you- uh…” he waits patiently for you to continue, noticing how your eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment as you rush out the words, “Can you cut me out of my clothes?”

Mingi’s eyes go wide. To say your request catches him off guard would be an understatement.

“They-“ you fidget slightly, hands suddenly pulled back into your lap. “They used to do that whenever they would have their fun, and I don’t want to remember them doing that anymore.”

His one hand comes up to tenderly brush his knuckle over the side of your cheek.

“Do you wish to forget?” He asks softly.

“I’m not doing this to forget,” you shake your head. “I want to replace those bad memories with newer, better ones. I don’t want to think about them cutting off my clothes. I want to think about you.”

It’s slight, and you believe it’s subconscious on his part, but he pulls you in even closer against him. Your body is almost pressed flush against his own, his loving gaze darkening at the implications.

“I will do anything if it means you thinking of me,” he mutters lowly. “Anything to make you happy.”

The hand that had been caressing the side of your cheek slides down to your shoulder. Carefully, he unsheathes his claws, hooking the tips beneath the collar of your shirt. At the way he hears your breathing pick up, he pauses, glancing at your face and noticing how your eyes remain shut for the moment.

Lightly, he tugs at your shirt.

“May I?” His inquiry is so gentle, that you cannot help but blink your eyes open to meet his gaze.

You swallow your nerves.

“Please.” A single nod accompanies your response, your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Mingi’s movements are slow, precise. There is no harsh sound of tearing fabric. Instead, he pulls the shirt until it’s taunt with his nail, allowing his claw to cut through the thin material slowly.

The whole time, he maintains eye contact with you. At any sign of hesitance, or discomfort, he vows to stop. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, or push you away.

Your breathing deepens, and within another blink of your eyes, Mingi has managed to cut right through your shirt. His hands settle on your hips, gently sliding upwards as the material parts following the path he takes up your body.

Tingles erupt on your skin as he traces his hands over your shoulders, pushing the now torn fabric gently down your arms. His touch is nothing but soft, his gaze soon following in the same path over your skin as your torso is fully revealed to him.

The sound of your shirt hitting the ground is synonymous with the low moan that escapes him. His eyes flit everywhere over your chest, following the gentle curves of your breasts all the way down to your stomach which he adores. Every scar he sees only adds to the perfection of you before him, baring yourself like this for him to see.

Him, and only him.

“You are absolutely captivating,” he breathes, eyes flitting once more over your torso before darting upwards to meet your gaze. His hands reach out to you, stopping just short of your waist. “Do I-“ he swallows, fingers trembling as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Do I really get to touch such beauty?”

His question, posed so earnestly with wonder shining behind his gaze, makes your breath catch in your throat. Fondness shines in your eyes as you stare up at him, nothing but tender love and affection swirling deep within your chest. His words make your entire body heat, a pleasant feeling erupting beneath your skin as you simply revel in the way he looks at you.

Your legs tighten ever so slightly around his waist, eyes fluttering shut as you feel him pressing right against you. At the way you hum in confirmation to his gentle inquiry, you can feel his cock twitch against your thigh once more. The way he positively beams at your answer only makes you tighten your own grip on him, needing to feel him pressed against you in every way imaginable.

Gently, his hands settle onto your waist, squeezing your flesh appreciatively before tracing his touch over your sides. A low moan escapes him as he brings his hands up to cup your breasts. His thumbs trace over your nipples, the thin fabric still covering you barely doing anything to hide what lies beneath.

A soft moan parts your lips, and you find yourself arching into his touch. Your own hands slide up his sides, nails grazing his flesh lightly and causing a shiver to caress his spine.

Not even a moment later, Mingi hooks a finger through the thin band of fabric between your breasts. One quick tug from him, and the material snaps, the straps sliding down your shoulders almost instantly.

You visibly watch his eyes darken, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he stares down at your chest. He wastes no time in cupping your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands as he gives them an appreciative squeeze.

“So soft,” he moans, thumbs flicking over your nipples once more before circling over the pert buds. “So perfect.”

At his words, you press yourself further into his touch, soft pants escaping your lips. You can feel tingles erupting all over your skin wherever he touches, and the feeling only serves to make your head spin.

You could get lost in him, and from the way that his eyes shine tenderly down at you, you have a feeling that that’s exactly what he wants you to do.

Trailing your hands upwards, your fingers dance across his chest. The way he shivers beneath your touch has you smiling up at him, purposely dragging your nails over his skin.

“You’re so handsome, Mingi,” you breathe out, taking the time to admire his sculpted torso.

His breath catches lightly, and his hands involuntarily squeeze over your breasts. 

“You think I’m handsome?” The questions is posed so innocently, that his voice rises slightly in pitch.

“I do,” you hum, your one hand coming up to cup the side of his face. “You are the most stunningly handsome being I have ever had the pleasure to rest my eyes upon.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows thickly, lips parting with the gentlest of gasps. His one hand slips around your back as he leans in, pulling you closer as he wastes no time in pressing his lips to yours once more.

Mingi pours every single emotion he has for you in the way his lips move against your own. The fingers of his one hand still cup your breast, beginning to pinch and roll your nipple between them. His tender movements mirror the gentle caress of his tongue against your own, and it only causes your breath to hitch lightly in your throat.

Eagerly, he swallows all of your moans, loving the way you cling to him desperately as he feels you beneath his touch. Your skin is a delicacy which ignites a fire beneath his own, and with every passing second, he only wants more.

Slowly, Mingi trails his hand that had been squeezing at your breast down your torso. His fingers dance lethargically against your skin, tracing over every dip and curve presented to him. The way he caresses you, trailing his fingertips over your scars lovingly, has your whole body heating, eagerly leaning into his every touch.

Desperately, you begin to crave more.

Soon, his fingers begin slipping beneath the waistline of your pants, never dipping more than a knuckle deep. He’s cautious, pulling away to meet your gaze to check in on you, wanting to make sure that you’re still okay, and that he’s not moving too quickly.

Your eyes stare up at him, wide and pleading, and he feels your hips shift the lightest bit forward. The smallest of whimpers escapes you, and the sound goes straight to his cock, lips parting in another moan as the scent of your arousal completely fills his every sense.

He can practically taste you on his tongue…

“Touch me, Mingi,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, airy and desperate. “Show me how beautiful I am.”

A low, pleased growl rumbles out from his chest. “With pleasure.”

Without wasting another moment, Mingi tears right through your pants, pulling the shredded material away and tossing it to the side. His hand comes down to settle on your thigh, thumb stroking lightly over your skin as he spreads you the slightest bit more open for him.

His lips find your own once more as his fingers creep up your thigh, skimming gently over the edge of your underwear. The fact that he can hear you whimper against his mouth only makes him smile into the kiss, deepening it without a second thought.

A moment later, he hooks a finger through the band, snapping the thin material and fully exposing you to him.

The full, unfiltered scent of your arousal bombards his senses, and he cannot help the way he gasps against your lips. His chest heaves with every breath, shifting his hand to cup you over your mound, the heat of you settling enticingly against his palm.

The hand he has splayed on your back tugs you in closer as the fingers of his other hand part your folds gently. Carefully, he drags the tip of his middle finger over your cunt, his eyes nearly rolling at the wetness that greets his skin.

A soft gasp escapes you as you feel him using the tip of his finger to circle over your clit, the movement making your whole body jolt in pleasure. 

His touch is soft, tentative almost. He wants to take his time exploring you right now, letting you feel his devotion to you in every movement that he makes. Anything and everything to get you to sigh his name in bliss, to have you clinging to him, and begging for more.

He adds the slightest bit more pressure over your clit.

Your eyes flutter, and another gasp escapes you. This time, of his name.

“There is no sweeter sound than the call of my name from your lips, Beloved,” Mingi breathes out against your neck, pressing gentle kisses against your skin.

The tip of his finger slips back down to circle your entrance, dipping lightly through your folds before pushing only a single knuckle into you. He slips it back out before pushing deeper into you each time, repeating the process until his finger is buried within your warmth, feeling the way your walls squeeze him so beautifully.

A moan falls from your lips, purposely clenching around his finger as you cling to him. Your head falls forward, eyes hooded as you glance his toned body before you. The moment you feel his thumb find your clit, you reach down, taking his cock into your one hand and pumping him a few times just above the water.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, a low groan tumbling from his lips.

“Beloved,” his voice is strained, brow furrowing as he focusses on the way you shift your hand over his cock. “I don’t expect-“

“I want to.” Your own voice comes out breathlessly, clenching around his finger once more as he begins to move it within you. “I want to please you, too.”

“Your mere existence pleases me,” he replies airily, adding the slightest bit more pressure to his thumb circling over your clit. “I’ll allow it. For now. But after, I want it to be all about you.”

“But-“ 

The protest dies on your lips as you feel him wrap his one arm he has at your back fully around your waist. There is now barely any space between your two bodies, just enough to allow you both to continue your ministrations over the other as you hold one another close.

“Do not underestimate what being able to please you does to me, Blossom,” his words are but a low drawl on his lips, curling his finger deep inside of you and making you gasp. “You feel like heaven around me. Seeing you, getting to feel your reactions to me, is one of the greatest pleasures I will ever receive in my life.”

At the way you feel his cock twitch in your hand from his words, you know there is no greater truth to him than what he’s just spoken. A fact which makes your stomach twist in pleasure, squeezing around his finger buried deep inside of you as his thumb continues to circle over your clit.

Another moan escapes you, and your hand tightens subconsciously around his cock. You do your best to mirror the pace of his finger currently massaging your inner walls, but the pleasure that threatens to drown you at any second makes it increasingly difficult to think.

Your free hand clings onto his back, fingers digging into his skin. The press of your nails only causes him to shiver in pleasure, lips parting as low groans escape him. The way your hand feels, languidly stoking over his cock, makes his head spin. The moment he feels you swipe your thumb over his slit, he has to bite his lip to keep himself from coming. 

He needs to see you fall apart before he can even think to let himself go.

Slowly, just as he did with the first finger, he works another into you. His pace is gentle, pushing in so far only to pull back out as he stretches you open for him. His thumb never once leaves your clit, either, circling that sensitive little nub as his lips return to your own.

Eagerly, he swallows your sounds, offering you ones of his own in return. At the way he can feel your hands beginning to shake against him, he knows that you’re close.

“Give it to me, Beloved,” his breath escapes him as no more than heavy pants as he pushes his fingers into you. “I’m right here. Let yourself go.”

The moment you feel his fingers bury themselves deep inside of you, pressing firmly against your inner walls, your eyes roll. The tips lightly brush over such a sensitive spot inside of you, his thumb circling over your clit in time with his movements, making you see stars.

You come with a loud cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as your body collapses forward into him. 

Of course, he is right there to catch you, to steady you as you fall.

Your hand stills over his cock, squeezing him firmly as he moans deeply, beginning to thrust lightly into your grip. Not even a moment later, you feel warm spurts of come painting your stomach, his breath heaving as low, pleased growls escape him with every exhale.

The feeling of Mingi’s hand gently stroking over your spine slowly begins to bring you back to reality. Your chest rises and falls dramatically with each breath you take, revelling in his touch. Your forehead presses against his chest, and you can feel it vibrating contently beneath you as he finally removes his hand from your cunt.

“So beautiful,” he coos, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head while the other settles onto your thigh. His fingers press delicately into your flesh, thumb stroking over your skin lightly. “So perfect.”

Ever so carefully, Mingi begins to dip you backwards, laying you gently upon the stone you rest on. His figure looms above you, nothing but love shining deep within his gaze as he stares into your eyes.

You finally release your hold on his cock, hand coming up to settle on his chest while the other shifts to tangle in his hair. You waste no time in pulling his lips back down to your own, heart swelling inside of your chest as his hands roam all over your body. Carefully, he avoids the mess he’s just made on your stomach. For now.

A blink, and Mingi begins trailing his lips down the side of your neck. His hot breath fans over your skin, contrasting the coolness of the rock at your back.

“Still okay?” He asks gently, gazing up at you through his lashes as his head rests just above your chest.

You nod, quite eagerly, as you still attempt to catch your breath. “Don’t stop.”

The smile that pulls at Mingi’s lips is so tender, that you cannot help the way your heart flutters in response. Almost instantly, he eagerly begins to trail more kisses down your chest, suckling lightly at your skin. 

His hands return to your breasts, kneading the flesh tenderly as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. A flick of his tongue over the pert bud has you moaning, arching once more into his touch as your thighs squeeze around his sides.

Softly, he suckles on your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive skin as he hums against you. A moment later, he’s releasing you with a soft pop, kissing his way over to your other breast to give it the exact same attention.

Your lips are parted, eyes hooded over as you lift your head to watch him move over you. Your one hand tangles in his locks, nails scratching at his scalp as your fingers thread through his hair.

What truly makes your head spin is when you see him detach himself from your nipple only to press his face directly between the valley of your breasts. His eyes flutter closed, and he inhales deeply, a stuttering groan falling passed his lips. Then, he’s tilting his head forward, placing a lingering kiss right over the skin of your beating heart.

“Mine.” He growls out, his eyes flashing open to stare deeply into your own.

Your breath hitches in your throat, heart stuttering inside of your chest. Only, your reaction surprises you. You cannot deny the way your stomach twists in pleasure at the way he says this, nor the way you feel yourself clench around nothing.

So, you respond in a way that feels both natural and right in this moment to you.

“Yours.” The word is but a sigh on your lips, but the effect it has on the fae before you is instantaneous.

A desperate groan escapes him, his eyes falling shut as he presses his face against your chest once more. You can feel his every breath hitting your skin, his hands settling onto your waist and pulling you in closer. His fingers dig into your skin, firm enough so that you can feel the need in his touch, but not enough to hurt you.

No. Never enough to hurt you.

“As I will always, and forevermore, be yours,” he breathes out onto your skin, blinking his gaze open to stare up at you lovingly. He hums contently, “My Beloved Blossom.”

Slowly, he begins trailing kisses back down your torso, his hands still eagerly gripping at your sides. His eyes briefly flick down to your stomach, noting the lines of his come still covering you in him.

Something deep within Mingi snarls with unabashed pride, and he smirks.

His tongue comes out to lave over your skin, tracing the trails of his come all the way from bottom to top. After each line, he places open mouthed kisses against your stomach, laving his lips over every inch of you, and loving the way he can feel you begin to squirm beneath him in pleasure.

Your hands tighten in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “Mine.”

The moan Mingi lets out against your skin is deep, his fingers sinking a little firmer into your sides. His chest rumbles pridefully in agreement, his sharp eyes flashing as he looks up to meet your gaze.

“Say it again,” his voice is but a growl on his lips as he sinks to his knees before you.

With a slight hitch in your breath, you comply.

“Mine.”

His hooded eyes lock onto your own, licking his lips eagerly as he slides his hands under your thighs, pushing your legs further apart.

“Again.” He growls, shifting forward slightly to hook your legs over his shoulders.

The way your pussy clenches right before his very eyes has another pleased rumble shaking his chest.

A small whimper slips passed your lips, and Mingi can feel the way your thighs begin to tremble against his shoulders. 

“You’re mine.” Your fingers come down to thread back through his hair, tugging lightly at the roots.

Mingi’s eyes flutter once more, a pleased hum escaping him.

“I am yours, Blossom,” he leans his head gently against your one thigh. A moment later, he’s turning to place a tender kiss right over where that cut he helped heal had previously marred your flesh. Then, his eyes are flashing open, and he tugs you closer to the edge of the spring. “Now, let me watch you bloom.”

As soon as those words escape his lips, he’s diving into you, parting your folds eagerly with his tongue. The moan he lets out reverberates against your core, licking a broad strip upwards to begin flicking gently at your clit.

Your whole body jolts at the first touch of his tongue over your cunt. A whimper of his name falls passed your lips, thighs naturally wrapping themselves around his head.

A pleased growl escapes him, vibrating pleasantly against your clit as he sucks the little bundle of nerves between his lips. His hands wrap around your thighs, pulling himself in closer to you as he positively buries his face in your cunt, licking eagerly at every drop you have to offer him.

You moan, eyes falling shut as you cry out his name once more.

“That’s it, Blossom,” his voice rumbles out against your folds, his nose pressing into your clit as his tongue swirls around your entrance. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

His tongue dips between your folds, pressing deeper into you with every lick.

“So good,” you moan, fingers tightening in his hair to pull him in closer to your cunt. “Fuck- Mingi!”

His eyes flutter in bliss, moaning shamelessly into your pussy as he laves his mouth over you.

“Just like that, Blossom,” his tongue comes up to flick eagerly at your clit again, his one arm shifting beneath you. “I want you to drown me in you.”

The second those words slip passed his lips, his fingers are back at your entrance. Slowly, he begins to push two back into you, working you open just as he did earlier.

He needs to feel you squeezing around him again. He needs to see you fall apart  for him again. He needs to feel you coming for him, and him alone.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” he hums, pulling away to watch his fingers slip inside of you. He nearly moans at the sight, cock twitching as he feels your walls clench around him. “So pretty, and all for me to devour.”

Another moan tumbles from your lips, tossing your head back in bliss. You can hardly maintain eye contact with him for long, the heat from his gaze setting your soul on fire, and bathing you in in the warmth of his love, of his desire.

It’s for you. It’s all for you.

The wet sounds of his tongue on your core fill the clearing as he returns to suckling on your clit. His fingers move languidly in you, massaging against your inner walls until the tips are finding that familiar spot that has your breath hitching. Once he feels is against the tips of his fingers, he curls them, humming over your clit as he shakes his head from side to side.

Your thighs begin to shake around him, that familiar pressure building within you with every flick of his tongue over your clit. The pleasant stretch of his fingers buried in your cunt only makes you clench around them, breath stuttering as he continues to massage the tips over that special spot deep inside of you.

Gently, you feel him grab one of your hands in his own, tugging it loose from his hair in order to lace your fingers with his. His eyes plead for you to fall apart, squeezing your hand now held within his own as he flattens his tongue against your clit. 

His warm breath hits your cunt with every desperate pant that escapes him, moving his tongue languidly in circles. In the next moment, he pulls away to flick at the sensitive little nub rapidly, watching your every reaction intently as he curls his fingers once more.

Your orgasm crashes into you without warning, your legs trembling violently around his head. Naturally, your thighs squeeze together, back arching off of the stones as you cry out his name. Your eyes flutter shut, brow furrowed as you cling onto his hand like a lifeline, drowning in the ecstasy he so willingly provides.

Moans and whimpers of his name fall from your lips, attempting to catch your breath as you feel his tongue continuing to lick over your dripping cunt. It’s slow, and tender, collecting every last drop you have to offer him as he removes his fingers from your core.

He hums, chest rumbling pleasantly as his thumb rubs over the back of your one hand held in his. His other is settled on your upper thigh, resting just below your hip to help steady you on the rocks. 

Pulling his head away, he licks his lips, and you can see your essence dripping down his chin as it shines beneath the light of the day.

“I love making you come for me,” his voice escapes him as no more than a content growl, turning his head to place tender kisses upon the skin of your inner thighs. “True solace resides here, between the heat of your legs.”

Your expression softens, a gentle sigh of his name falling from your lips.

“I never want you to stop calling out my name,” he breathes, the ghost of his breath tickling the skin of your thigh.

Carefully, he lets your legs fall from his shoulders, and back into the water of the pool below. The grip he has on your one hand loosens, and he stands back to his feet. His touch trails up your sides as he leans over you, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you deeply.

You hum against his mouth, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your fingers thread back through his hair.

Gently, he pulls away, resting his forehead against your own.

“Are you okay?” His tone is soft, staring deeply into your eyes as he holds himself above you for the moment.

A tender smile pulls at your lips. “More than okay.”

He returns your loving smile.

“Do you want to-“

“Make love to me, Mingi,” your gaze holds nothing but the most fond of looks as you bring your hand around to cup the side of his face, staring deeply into his eyes. “Make love to me as you claim me as yours.”

There is no denying the hitch in his breath as he stares down at your form, naked and spread out beneath him. His gaze searches your own, and all he can see staring back at him is the same tenderness that he knows is held within his own. There is no uncertainty in your eyes, nor hesitance, and the way you soon pull him in closer only serves to make his heart swell with even more love for you inside of his chest.

“I would love nothing more,” his reply is gentle, his fingers coming up to trace over the side of your cheek.

Taking a moment now, Mingi commits this beautiful scene to memory for years to come.

Pushing himself slightly upwards, Mingi lets his hands trail over the length of your body. Love pours from his gaze and into his touch as he looks down at you. A love that he can see, that he can feel returned in your own.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he glances something that has his heart skipping a beat inside of his chest at the mere thought of. Briefly, his eyes flit from your face, to the side, and back before he’s cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand once more.

“I want you to wear something for me while I make love to you, Beloved.” He licks his lips. “Can you- can you do that for me?”

Your eyes search his face for a moment, trailing all over his features as you lift a hand to rest on top of his own.

Slowly, you nod your head, a soft ‘okay’ falling from your lips.

Carefully, Mingi reaches his hand out above you, grasping something in his grip. Your eyes track his every movement, and the moment he pulls back, your breath hitches slightly in your throat.

There, in his grip, rests that crimson sash, stained fresh with the blood of all those who had ever wronged you.

Your lips part in awe, heart swelling at the meaning behind his request. Not to mention the fact that this band is his most prized possession, and now he wants you to wear it during such an intimate moment shared between the two of you.

Mingi helps you sit up, his hand on your back to steady you as you grip onto his shoulders. He can hear how fast your heart is beating, and he knows that his is doing the exact same.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and your expression says it all. No words need to be said between you as a deep understanding passes over one another. One that says you care about him, and he cares about you, both in your own ways. You will let him take care of you, just as you’ve always wanted. Just as you’ve always deserved.

Leaning forward, Mingi presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. He allows his lips to linger, his eyes falling shut as he absolutely revels in this moment here with you. There is so much wants to tell you, so much he wants to show you, but for now, he’ll start with this.

“I love you, My Blossom,” Pulling away, Mingi makes sure to stare deeply into your eyes. “So much.”

A smile tugs at your features, tender and loving. “As I love you, My General.”

“Mingi.” The corner of his mouth quirks upwards as corrects you. He shifts forward, securing that sash carefully around your forehead. “For you, it’s always Mingi.”

The sound of the fabric tightening as it’s tied reaches your ears, but the knot is anything but. He ensures that band is securely around your forehead, eyes shining with nothing but admiration and awe as he pulls away to stare at you. 

Slowly, his fingertips trace back down over the curve of your cheeks, wrapping his arms around your back. He draws you in closer as you part your legs for him, letting him press himself flush against your chest.

Your hands slide down the front of his torso, eyes following in their wake as you take the time to fully admire him. You cannot help the way your tongue comes out to wet your lips, stomach flipping pleasantly as the realization that he is yours settles over you.

You smile.

“If I hurt you-“

“You won’t.” Your voice comes out firmly, gaze darting back up to meet his own. “I trust you.”

Mingi’s breath catches in his throat, and his heart skips a beat inside of his chest. Your words mean everything to him in this moment, and he swears to never break that trust for as long as you both shall live.

As he stares deeply into your eyes, you know that he won’t, either.

Scooting closer to the edge of the rock you sit on, you manage to wrap your legs around Mingi’s waist. The way you pull him in closer in such a way only causes a smile to tug at his lips, his hands sliding down your sides and settling lightly on your waist.

“Hold onto me, Beloved,” he says lowly, his hands shifting to grasp your ass and lift you slightly towards him.

Immediately, you comply, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders as he pulls you into him.

His hold is gentle as he walks himself backwards and into the centre of that spring. The pool deepens, the water now coming up to about his chest height, but still, he carries you, making sure your head, and that sash, stay dry.

Carefully, he adjusts you so that his one hand is supporting you beneath your ass, while the other reaches down between the two of your bodies. He takes his cock into his hand, pumping himself a few times before lining the tip up with your entrance. He takes the liberty to drag the head of his cock through your folds, bumping over your clit a few times as he meets your gaze.

“Tell me you want this,” his words are a bit desperate, eyes pleading as he holds you both still, waiting for that final confirmation to fall from your lips. “Tell me you want me.”

Your heart swells in your chest, warmth flooding your veins as you cup his face in both of your hands. Your eyes shine with nothing but love and admiration, desire swirling deep within your irises as you hold his gaze. The fact that he still waits, the fact that he’s been so gentle and caring with you this whole time, only proves to solidify your answer.

“I want this, Mingi,” the words are but a tender whisper on your lips. “I want you.”

Mingi’s heart simply flutters at your admission, and he doesn’t waste another moment before slowly letting you sink down on his cock. He’s nothing but tender, and oh, so, careful as he pulls you down only so far before lifting you off of him again, repeating the process as he pushes deeper and deeper into you each time.

The warmth of your cunt makes his head spin, and with every inch that he sinks further into your tight walls, he finds it harder and harder to control himself. Yet still, he does. 

For your sake.

Your hands dig into the skin of his shoulders, clinging to him tightly as he stretches you out. You can feel yourself clenching around him with each delicious inch that stretches you out, eyes nearly rolling once he finally sheathes himself fully into your tight heat.

His arms are around you, holding you flush against his chest as his brow furrows. Small pants escape him, low moans spilling from his lips each time you shift slightly above him.

“You feel like paradise around me, Beloved,” he drawls out huskily right beside your ear. “Like you were made for me.”

A soft gasp slips passed your lips as he shifts beneath you, clenching around him as you feel his cock pulse deep within you.

“So wet,” he coos, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck. “So warm.”

“For you,” you breathe out, and you hear the way a choked moan escapes him. “All because of you.”

This time, there’s no mistaking the moan that falls passed his lips. His chest rumbles with a low, pleased growl, his lips finding purchase on your skin.

“Feel how hard you make me, Blossom?” He hums, tongue darting out to lave over your pulse. “Feel how well you let me fill this tight little pretty pussy of yours?”

He gives a tentative grind of his hips into your own, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

“Yes,” you moan out, tossing your head back as you tighten your hold around him. “Feel so good filling me, Min.”

You emphasize your words by clenching around him, hearing a choked gasp of your name fall from his lips.

“You are my everything,” he whispers, one hand shifting to grab at your ass and squeezing the flesh appreciatively. Again, he rolls his hips up into your own. “My Beautiful, Beloved, Blossom.”

This time, it’s his turn to emphasize his every word with a roll of his hips into you, his voice coming out as no more than a low growl. His opposite hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, bringing your lips to his in a desperate, but searing kiss.

Slowly, but surely, he begins a languid pace, rolling his hips up into yours as he holds onto you just as tightly as you cling to him. Each movement is precise, letting you feel his devotion in the way he brings his hips up to meet your own, and pouring every ounce of love that he can into the way his cock fills your tight little hole.

Low hums and soft sighs fall from your lips, his name gracing your tongue with every gentle thrust he gives you. Your arms wrap around his back, nails tracing lightly over his skin and leaving marks of your own in their wake.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest, and he begins to snap his hips a little firmer into you. The way you body bounces with each thrust captivates him, and he drinks in every expression of pleasure you give him eagerly, committing them all to memory.

A choked cry of his name parts your lips as the tip of his cock brushes against that tender spot inside of you. Adjusting his hold on you, he makes sure to hit that spot with every thrust, grinding his hips into your own each time.

That red sash rests like a crown upon your head, and as Mingi glances your ethereal form beneath the light of the morning sun, his heart feels close to bursting. His pace begins to quicken, low rumbles shaking his chest with every move he makes. The way he can feel you clenching around him has his cock twitching deep within you, hands desperately clinging onto you as he pulls you into him to meet his every thrust.

“I love you,” The words are but a strained whisper, falling from his lips repeatedly with every snap of his hips into your own. 

Only admiration and the deepest, sincerest form of love can be seen in his gaze as he stares intently into your own, captivated by the glorious sight that is you, falling apart on his cock.

You fingers thread through his hair, pulling his lips to yours for another searing kiss. Eagerly, you swallow his moans, just as you offer up your own to him. 

You can feel that familiar tightness building within you, close to snapping at the skillful way he fills you with his cock. No movement is wasted, and the way you feel him squeeze your ass again has you tightening your legs around his waist.

Parting from your lips with a gasp, Mingi’s eyes flutter shut. Not even a moment later, he’s letting his head fall forward, burying his face into the side of your neck.

His lips find purchase over your pulse, sucking lightly at the skin there before laving his tongue eagerly over the spot. His breathing comes in jagged pants, hot breath fanning over your flesh as low growls begin to escape him with every exhale he makes.

“Touch that pretty little clit for me, Blossom,” he breathes out onto the skin of your neck. “Touch that pretty little clit, and make yourself come all over me.”

Another moan of his name slips passed your lips, and you do as told. Almost instantly, your hand slides from his back down to your clit, flicking over the sensitive nub with the tips of your fingers.

You clench hard around him, a desperate whine escaping you as you nearly fall right over the edge.

Gently, the hand he has supporting the back of your head tilts you to expose your neck fully, his pace never once faltering as he laves his tongue over your pulse once more. 

Your eyes flutter shut, and with one final flick over your clit, you come, screaming his name.

The instant Mingi feels you coming around him, his fangs sink into the tender flesh of your neck. An animalistic snarl reverberates against your throat, his hips snapping into yours before he stills within you. The hand he has gripping your ass pulls you flush against him as he spills deep inside of you, clinging onto you as desperately as you cling to him.

Your whole body shudders in his hold, the euphoric feeling of your orgasm only intensified by the feeling of his fangs in your throat. You never expected for it to be this intense, and it takes you several long minutes to calm down, whimpering with each small ministration against you. Even the water is starting to become too much against your skin, every feeling intensified and making your shake in overstimulation.

Slowly, you begin to feel something wet and hot dragging itself along the skin of your neck. Pleased rumbles vibrate against your chest as you catch your breath, and finally, your vision returns. Blinking at few times, you focus in on that redcap before you, noticing how he pulls away with red dripping down his chin.

He licks his lips, the most heartwarming smile tugging at his features as he strokes a hand tenderly over your spine.

“My Blossom,” he hums, gaze shining with nothing but tender love and affection as he looks at you. “How beautiful it is to watch you bloom.”

Happy tears well in your eyes, burying your face into his chest as he slowly walks you both back over to the edge of the spring. Your arms hold onto him tightly, humming as you nuzzle into him. You can still feel his cock buried deep inside of you, and it only serves to make this moment that much more special, for you know that he wishes to be part of you for as long as he possibly can.

Despite the bite you’ve just received, your neck doesn’t hurt. Instead, you feel a warmth blooming deep within you. A feeling of tremendous comfort and safety wraps itself around you like a blanket, and with the way he begins to gently wash the both of you off, you know that this feeling resting deep inside of you is pure and true.

Carefully, he unties that band from around your head, placing it gently to the side.

“You did so well for me, Beloved,” he coos, his hand tracing over the contours of your spine. “How I love you so. Very much.”

You can only offer him a hum in return, fatigue suddenly overwhelming you as you rest in his arms. The feeling of his cock slipping out of you makes you moan softly, clenching around nothing as he continues to clean you both up.

“Get some rest, My Beloved.” He chuckles lowly, cradling your head in his one hand. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

And so you do, falling asleep in the arms of the one who loves you most.

***

The moment you wake, Mingi is there. He brings you water, making sure you’re well hydrated before feeding you some food slowly. Most importantly, he makes sure that you’re okay. 

Gently, he rubs your muscles, working over any soreness you might have from the events that took place earlier in the day. He even goes so far as to kiss over every single inch of your skin, stating that he wants to make good on his every promise from earlier.

The rest of the day is spent like this, with Mingi taking care of you and you resting in each others arms. He is at your beck and call, and as evening comes, hues of red, orange, pink, and yellow painting the sky, he pulls you in even closer.

Never is he going to let you go. Never does he want to.

Beneath the light of the stars, Mingi makes love to you a second time. He holds your hand tightly in his own, interlacing your fingers together as he makes you cry out his name to the heavens.

Always, it’s all about you.

He treats you with a tenderness you never knew possible for someone like you. A tenderness which you gladly lose yourself to each and every time he offers it, and when you look at him, you realize that everything will all turn out okay.

He’s here now, and he’s not going anywhere.

The next morning is spent wrapped in each other’s embrace. 

The soft sounds of birds fill your ears, light filtering in through the breaks in the trees. Gently, leaves sway in the breeze, filling the clearing with the pleasant scents of nature. Your head rests on Mingi’s chest, and you cannot help but glance those two stems of spider lilies beside you, laying almost parallel to you and him.

A smile pulls at your features.

“Good morning, Blossom,” Mingi’s deep voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts. You turn to look up at him, noticing him already staring down at you with nothing but love shining within his gaze. “Did you sleep well?”

A soft hum escapes you as you settle your head back onto his chest, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. “I always sleep better when you are near.”

You can hear the way his heart simply flutters inside of his chest at your words, a content rumble echoing around the clearing.

“Then, it’s a good thing I love holding you so close,” he grins, pulling you impossibly closer into him.

You hum, rolling on top of him, but saying nothing in response. Simply, you revel in this moment, and his touch, curling around him as his hand begins to gently stroke over your spine.

His eyes catch on that fresh bite mark on your neck, the indents from his teeth shining under the light of the morning sun. Another pleased rumble shakes his chest, and softly, he brings a hand upwards. His fingers trace lovingly over the claim on your neck, revelling in the way you positively shiver beneath his touch.

“Can I-“ your voice comes out a bit small, uncertain. “Do I get to give you one of my own?”

Mingi freezes beneath you, his eyes going wide. You can audibly hear the way his breath catches, feeling his heart begin to thunder against your chest as you press up against him.

“You- you want to give me a claim of your own?” His gaze shines with something akin to hope, love and admiration swirling deep within.

“Is that not how it works?” You tilt your head slightly, your brow furrowing as you worry you may have misunderstood him.

“No, no, it- it is.” He inhales a shaky breath through his nose. “I just- I didn’t think you’d wish to-“

“Of course I would want to.” You smile at him softly. “Claims are mutual, are they not?”

His eyes shine with unshed tears, happiness swelling inside his chest and causing his veins to flood with pure ecstasy. Tingles erupt under his skin wherever you touch, and he finds that he cannot get enough.

Slowly, he begins to nod his head. 

“Yes.” He swallows the building emotions in his throat. “They are.”

You shift slightly above him, pulling yourself closer to his face so you can stare down at him tenderly. “Then, will you let me claim you, Mingi?”

He blinks, the first of his tears spilling from the corners of his eyes and falling down to the earth to stain its soil with his happiness.

“I would love nothing more.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards as you lean in to press them against his own. His one hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, the other settling onto your lower back and holding you steady over him. 

You pull away to stare deeply into his eyes, and Mingi tilts his head to the side, exposing the side of his neck for you.

“Claim me, Beloved,” his words are but a plea upon his lips. “I am yours.”

Slowly, you lean into him. Your lips trail a path from his jawline all the way to the side of his neck, nipping gently at the skin with your teeth. You can hear his breathing deepen, tightening his grip ever so slightly over you as you dart your tongue out to lave over his pulse.

“It’s just a- just a bite, right?” You ask, breath ghosting against his skin.

“Yes,” His reply is airy, tilting his head further to the side as a small, desperate whine escapes him. “Just a bite.”

Teasingly, you drag your teeth over the side of his neck, and you can feel him shiver beneath you. A moment later, you clamp them against his skin, but not enough to be considered a proper bite.

“Blossom,” he pants out, pleading with his eyes despite the fact that you cannot see his face in this instant. “Blossom, please-“

His words get cut off by the feeling of you sinking your teeth into his neck.

A loud moan escapes him, his hips jerking upwards as his eyes squeeze shut. His head nearly gets tosses back at the pleasure that courses through his veins, skin heating beneath your touch as you slowly detach your lips from the side of his throat.

Pulling away, you hold yourself above him. You spare a glance down at his face, noticing how his lips are parted and his eyes are glazed. His chest heaves with every breath as he takes in the sight above him that is you, his blood staining your lips bright red.

The second you dart your tongue out to taste the crimson substance adorning your skin, you moan. Almost instantly, your face buries itself back into the side of his neck, laving at the fresh mark you’ve just given him.

Mingi groans in response, his hands finding purchase on your hips, guiding you to begin grinding over his semi-hard cock. The call of your name is so tender from his lips, that you swear he believes you to be some form of divinity.

In his mind, you are.

The rest of that morning is spent in each others arms, proclaiming your love for one another as you lose yourselves to the pleasure the other provides. Never has anything ever felt so pure in your lives, each desperate for the other as you claim one another over, and over, and over again.

By the time you’ve both finished, the sun is cresting high in the sky. You spend the afternoon cleaning each other up, and by the time the early evening rolls around, you’re finally ready to continue on your journey back home.

Those two stems of spider lilies rest in your hands, and you eagerly take a step forward in the direction of the keep. Only, your right leg gives out on you as soon as you put any sort of pressure on your ankle.

Luckily, Mingi is right there to catch you before you fall. Just as he always will be.

“I’m sorry, Beloved,” his eyes shine with slight remorse. “I overdid it.”

“Not at all.” Immediately, you shake your head. “I can walk.”

Again, you go to take another step, much to Mingi’s protest. Yet, again, your leg gives out on you.

Before you can say anything, Mingi is scooping you into his arms.

“Get some rest, Blossom,” he smiles down at you, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead. “I’ve got you.”

Your one brow quirks, almost playfully. “I thought you said you weren’t going to carry me?”

Mingi laughs, beginning the final trek home to the keep.

“I’m not carrying you,” he says lightheartedly, a smile tugging at his features. “Think of it as holding onto you while walking. There’s a difference.”

A giggle graces his ears as you curl into him, resting your head on his chest. “Sure there is.”

“I’d carry you to the ends of the earth if it meant getting to see you every day.” He replies earnestly, glancing down at you with such a loving look resting on his features.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, Min,” you hum, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

A pleased rumble greets your ears, his grip tightening around you as he pulls you in even closer.

“Get some rest, Blossom,” he repeats his words from mere minutes earlier. “There’s not that much further to go. I’ll get us there safely, don’t you worry.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards in a soft smile. 

“I trust you, Min.” Your eyes flutter shut, already feeling the familiar pull of unconsciousness tugging at your mind as the steady rocking of each of his steps begins to lull you to sleep. “I love you.”

You fail to see the tender smile that pulls onto his own features, but you can hear his contentment clear in his voice all the same. 

“As I love you, My Beloved Blossom.”

***

Whispers are what rouse you from your sleep.

The sun creeps over the hills, its morning rays lighting up the sky as you blink your eyes open. Mingi had walked with you in his arms all through the night, managing to cover more ground as you slept. He could practically taste the stale air of the keep, the stones beckoning him home.

Getting closer with each step he takes is a somewhat large castle. Half of it lies in ruin, but the keep still stands almost defiantly amongst the rubble. It’s beautiful, yet tragic in a way, but it’s home. A home which you are grateful for, for you know it means Mingi will be there, too.

After all, he is now your home, just as you are his.

Lifting your free hand, you rub at your face. More and more hushed tones follow you as you rest in Mingi’s arms, most if not all, harsh in their musings of disbelief.

“Is that the human?”

“How is she still alive?”

“Never mind that, did he claim her?”

“It won’t mean anything."

“There’s a mark on his neck, too!”

The comments come one right after another, and they only cause you to curl deeper into Mingi’s chest. The implications behind most of them make your heart drop, and though you know that none of them are true where Mingi is concerned, you cannot help but to wonder about those other humans in this realm much unluckier than you.

“Enough!” Mingi’s voice booms out, immediately silencing the gathering redcaps surrounding you. “If you have any issues with who I’ve chosen to imprint on, you may take up your grievances with me in a duel.”

Your breath catches slightly in your throat, curling in even closer into his chest as an eerie silence stretches on around you.

“If I catch any of you treating her with anything less than the utmost of respect, I will carve out your tongue, and feed it to the crows. There is no limit on what I will do to you, should you choose to harm her in any way.” Mingi’s sharp gaze looks over his gathered subordinates, his arms tightening over you almost subconsciously. “Do I make myself clear?”

Immediately, the redcaps all straighten. “Yes, General.”

Mingi grunts, turning back to continue making his way through the keep.

“Dismissed.”

You don’t have to peek over his shoulder to know that the other fae have immediately obeyed his orders.

The rest of the day is spent with Mingi showing you around the keep. He takes you out back to an empty field, helping you plant that one red spider lily with him. The way he smiles at you when you turn to look up at him in awe says it all.

Finally, you’re home.

A few days pass, and you seem to have no incidents with the other redcaps. Things are a bit interesting at first, to say the least, with them not used to having a human around, let alone treating one with respect. However, they respect their General, and will obey his every command, and thus, they are respectful to you.

It’s only when you’re in your new bedroom, alone, do you feel a chill raise on the back of your neck.

“You should be dead.” 

A voice from the open doorway causes you to turn to see Windfel standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. A frown mars his features, only visible from the downturn of his lips as that red flat cap is pulled low over his head.

You blink at him, tilting your head in inquiry as your brow furrows slightly.

“No, really,” he pushes himself off of the doorframe, beginning to stalk his way forward and into your room. “He should have killed you.”

You involuntarily take a step backwards at the sudden dark look in his eyes.

“He was supposed to kill you!” Windfel shouts, appearing before you in the blink of an eye and pinning you to the wall by your throat. “I should have just done it myself to get it over with, but I thought it would be fun to have the general go on a little hunt.”

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, throat constricting as fear builds within your chest. All you can do is stare at the crazed redcap before you, struggling to free yourself from his grip as your vision begins to fade in the corners.

The hand around your throat tightens even further.

Tears line your eyes, spilling freely down your cheeks as you attempt to cry out for help. Mingi had been scouting the area outside the keep today, so if only you could just get enough air to fill your lungs to scream…

“You humans think you’re so fucking special,” Windfel spits, one of his claws tracing over the top line of your claim almost mockingly. “Seduce one fae, and you suddenly believe you’re untouchable.”

Your legs kick out uselessly beneath you, your right ankle throbbing as your lungs burn. With every moment that passes, you can feel yourself getting weaker and weaker, only being able to think of Mingi in what you believe to be your final moments.

A roar so deadly pierces the air, shaking the entirety of the keep. 

Within the blink of an eye, Windfel is torn away from you, his body being thrown through the window beside your bed. Mingi is beside you in an instant, hands shaking against your form as you heave air into your lungs. Fear, pure and unfiltered, rests in his gaze as he check you over gently, making sure that you’re okay before standing back to your feet.

“How did you…” your words trail off, coughing lightly at the pain speaking brings you right now.

“I could sense you,” Mingi responds, tightening his hold around you as he cradles you to his chest.

It is then that you feel him place a soft kiss over his claim on your neck.

A shiver caresses your spine as he helps you back to your feet. You can hear shouting coming from the courtyard below, and as Mingi leads you outside, your hand held in his own, you see him shift into every bit of that cold persona of the monstrous general you have come to love.

“What is the meaning of this?” His voice booms out across the courtyard, sharp eyes darting around at the gathered redcaps.

You notice Windfel being held back by both Lias and Darius, their claws sinking into his flesh unforgivingly. Blood drips down his features, pieces of broken glass embedded in his skin.

“You’ve gone soft, General,” Windfel spits, turning his hate filled eyes towards you.

Almost instantly, Mingi steps in front of you, blocking you from the other redcap’s sight.

“You purposely sent me on a hunt in hopes that I would kill her.” Mingi’s voice is but a low snarl on his lips, dangerous in every right. “I thought it was strange that you would take her to bathe. When the wild stream wouldn’t kill her, you had hoped that I would.”

An unbridled fury shines within Windfel’s gaze. However, it is only unmatched by Mingi’s own.

“That’s why you let her go.” Mingi’s eyes flash as he bares his fangs at the redcap before him. “Didn’t you?”

Windfel purses his lips, and his silence speaks volumes.

“Speak.” Mingi snarls out the command, the cadence of his voice causing some rubble to crumble to the ground at the side of the courtyard. “Your general asked you a question.”

You can see the surrounding redcaps backing up slowly from the other two, both Lias and Darius shoving Windfel to his knees before Mingi. The captain and the vice-captain under his command may be nefarious, but at least they are loyal. At least they understand respect.

A heaviness settles in the air between the two fae as Mingi towers over the smaller redcap, anger radiating off of him in waves. No one dares interfere in this matter, for they all know what will happen to them if they do. Their general is not afraid to make an example out of anyone.

“The bitch should have died.” Windfel spits. “If not at your hands, then at someone else’s.”

A deadly silence passes over the entire courtyard, and you notice both Lias and Darius suddenly flanking you on either side. It’s as if they’ve stepped towards you for your protection.

At the way you notice Mingi’s hands shaking in fists at his sides, you know this to be undoubtably true.

“Get up.” Mingi commands the fae at his feet, his voice leaving no room for arguments.

Windfel’s brow furrows, but he still does as told.

Little do you see the maniacal look that stretches across Mingi’s features.

“I accept your challenge.”

The entire courtyard goes silent, and you swear you could hear a pin drop. All the colour drains from Windfel’s face as he takes a step back in shock.

Slowly, you watch as Mingi unties that red sash from around his upper arm, wrapping it around his forehead and securing it into place. His claws unsheathe, and you swear all the redcaps around you stop breathing.

“My Beloved Blossom,” The sudden, gentle call of your name from Mingi catches your attention as he stands with his back facing you.

You take a deep breath in.

“Close your eyes.”

[mochidoie]

all i see is you - lee haechan

listen to: you by dj regard and poison by nct dream genre: fluff, hopelessly pining badboy!haechan wc: 720 warning: none, written in lowercase only

a/n: i felt very inspired by poison's track video, i can't stop thinking about the lyrics too ive been waiting for dreamies to do a rnb song for so long!! read part two!

"you're so bad for me." you push playfully at haechan's chest and god, just how he melts at how cute your smile looks under the night sky.

haechan leans against the street lamp post and smirks devilishly at your comment, hooded eyes eating up how prettily your attire fits you tonight. "if you mean bad meaning good, then i agree."

there goes your sweet laugh again, "very funny." your sarcastic response is typical, he could read you like an open book. spine against a table, pages flipping by the edge of his thumb.

"i'm serious, y/n. when are you gonna give me a chance to take you out?" haechan butters you up just like how you like it. his finger twirls the end of your skirt flirtatiously, causing your heart to race in your chest.

you can't stop the shy smile that appears on your red painted lips. "in your dreams, hyuck. i'm in no place in my life right now to be dating anyone." scoffing, you cross your arms.

you're goal driven, hardworking, you weren't going to let some sleazy guy distract you from chasing your career. despite all his efforts, you genuinely had to consider how haechan would actually throw you off track. your lifestyles are too different to meet a compromise.

he drops to your feet, noticing your shoe had been untied for the past two blocks. without a word or shift in conversation, this man obediently wraps the string around his fingers and brings the knot to a complete bow. this kind gesture never fails to swoon you.

"so don't date me. let me take you out from time to time, treat you nice and right. when you want to sleep in someone's arms at night, give me a call. i'm here at your disposal." haechan stands and hovers over you, polite hands hovering over your lower waist as he closes the distance between the two of you.

the way you blink at him with wanting eyes has him spiraling, he wants you so bad. just one glance and he's swept away, wind picking up his feet and has him tumbling.

"that is unfair to you."

"it's sweet to know that you care about me." haechan meant it, but the playfulness in his tone seems unserious. he isn't sure how only you can make him this way. it becomes hard for him to really express how much he dreams about you.

"of course i care about you." your eyes drop to his lips momentarily and his chest feels tight. it's almost criminal how good you two would be together and how happy he could make you.

slowly, you're drawn into him even more until his breath is against your cheekbone and you can hear the beating of both of your hearts in the silence of the night.

"you want me to be honest?" his voice is feathery and raspy, like he's trapped in your trance due to the proximity of your warmth. "i've lost count of how many times i've wanted to kiss you."

you call his name, pulling away slightly. a tinge of sadness and guilt in your tone, but haechan isn't having it. he shakes his head, "i know. i shouldn't be so selfish.. but you don't know how many times i fall to my knees just thinking about you."

your eyes meet at the end of his sentence and the desire intensifies between the two of you. lightning bolts zapping in the gaze, you can feel the blood rushing to your face.

something about how desperately infatuation haechan looks sparks a burning flame in your abdomen. how all he sees is you, his reflection full of your figure. how his plump lips are itching to touch your own.

his usual confident, playfully flirtatious personality is nowhere to be seen. you've never seen this expression on him before and it shocks you how much he has been holding himself back.

"pick me up at 8 tomorrow. no exceptions." you say firmly and with that smile he can't get enough of. backing up from him, you walk toward your door.

his ears are perked up, noting your words very clearly and not wanting to let this chance slip away from him. he smirks coolly and shoves his hands into his jean pockets, "you know i won't let you down."

read part two!

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have the fourth part of our rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis and Harry are friends who become lovers. If you'd like to check out the previous rec lists, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word.

Happy reading!

1) Truth Or Drink | Explicit | 5,548 words

Harry isn’t nervous. Of course he isn’t. He has done much more intimidating things than this. He has had sex with at least 100 men, and a few women along the way, while being filmed and watched by another 20 pairs of eyes. But for some reason the thought of doing this sounds a hundred times worse. He can feel his insides churning and sweat is starting to form on his palms. Sure, sex is Harry’s job and it has been for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t mind having a crowd of people watching him anymore, and everything is always quite professional. At the beginning things might have been a bit challenging but now it’s almost second nature. This, though, is more distressing than anything he has ever done before.

2) Incalescent | Explicit | 5,649 words

The onset of heat is something Louis still hasn’t learned to recognize.

3) You Step Where Words Are Written, Delicate Under Your Feet | Mature | 6,495 words

Prompt 513: A fic where Louis gives Harry a footjob over his pants while they're watching TV and Harry finds out he has a thing for Louis' feet.

4) Kiss It Better | Mature | 8,080 words

Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock." Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on. "News to me." "I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is." Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out. "So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."

5) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8,854 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind. Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic. “I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.” Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

6) I Would Wait Forever (And Ever) | Not Rated | 10,018 words

Louis is brave but has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.

7) If I Saw You Every Day Forever | Mature | 10,685 words

There really should be a statute on the number of dates one can go to because how much longer does Louis have to suffer through this? A modern AU in which Louis might have accidentally signed up for something he probably shouldn't.

8) Wait Until You're Sure | Explicit | 13,042 words

Prompt 465: Louis and Harry are best friends who made a pact. If neither of them has found love by the time they’re 30, then they’ll get married. It was all laughter and fun until Harry realizes they’re celebrating his 30th birthday and in a few months, Louis is gonna be 30 too. So, he struggles to find someone for Louis to avoid being together, but Louis just keeps rejecting all men Harry introduces to him (because he has feeling for him, of course), which really upsets Harry. They argue about that and Louis says something like “wow, it’s that bad to be with me?,” accepting that Harry simply doesn’t feel the same. Louis moves for a couple of months with another friend and Harry has all this time to understand his feelings, realizing that he loves Louis too and wants to be with him. But when he goes to tell him, Louis is already seeing someone else. So what’s Harry gonna do to get Louis back?

9) Candle Wax & Polaroids On The Hardwood Floor | Explicit | 13,082 words

Prompt 463: Clumsy modern witch Louis AU where he accidentally gives his roommate Harry a love potion and he has a crisis because he thinks he will get in trouble with the law for technically poisoning someone and Harry’s heart eyes aren’t helping.

10) Blackberries And Cherries | Explicit | 13,894 words

Louis is a witch and Harry is his human friend. When Harry needs help focusing on his schoolwork, the obvious solution is to ask Louis for a potion. You could say things don’t go quite right.

11) Bend The Rules | Explicit | 16,823 words

Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.

12) Swap Me For Your Shadow | Explicit | 16,829 words

If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.

13) Sometimes A Fantasy | Explicit | 18,654 words

There’s nothing to complain about when Harry’s walking around their flat with his cock swinging about, nothing to complain about when Harry’s pressing himself up against Louis’ naked backside when he’s reaching for a mug in their cupboards, and nothing to complain about when Harry’s got his hand firm on Louis’ arse when they’re cuddling on the couch. So, in reality, it’s really fucking weird, and Louis knows that. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.

14) Lonely Shadow Dancers | Explicit |20,838 words

“Mm,” Harry’s arms circle him, and their fumbling somehow turns into a cuddle session, “still can’t believe we’re here together.” Growing up with someone, one tends to become used to another. Used to the mannerisms and personality of them. Used to the changes and the things that stay the same. Harry hit puberty and sprung up into this cheeky curly flirt of an alpha and Louis still hasn’t found the time to get used to it. His stomach flutters and he bites back a stupid smile and wonders if he ever will.

15) The Mess We Created | Explicit | 21,099 words

An innocent one night stand changed into something more than that.

16) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23,295 words

I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him. “I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.” Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?” “The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?” “Oh. Yeah.”

17) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33,117 words

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.  It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction. Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.  For a while, it’s enough.

18) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words

Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who's never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves. Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?

19) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55,778 words

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.

20) If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55,916 words

Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”

21) It’s Golden, Like Daylight | Explicit | 61,496 words

"I actually think you might be onto something.” Harry’s eyes widened. “You mean…” Louis nodded. “As crazy and insane as this, this might just solve both of our problems.” “Are you saying you’re in?” Harry asked. “I’m in.”

22) Derail The Mind Of Me | Explicit | 77,323 words

Beside the photograph of a gaunt, pale face spattered with blood and lips torn into a Glasgow smile was a bloodied object, crumpled and stained almost to the point of unrecognition. Another photo showed the object shoved into the woman’s mouth. While Harry leaned forward to get a closer look, Louis scrunched up his nose and purposefully kept his gaze locked on his computer screen, refusing to so much as glance at the gruesome images the rest of the team examined. “What is that?” Zayn frowned. “Is that a tarot card?”

23) Ghost Note Symphony | Explicit | 96,426 words

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago. It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to. That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

24) Our Endless Numbered Days | Explicit | 120,815 words

“Harry?” whispered Louis, his mouth dry, his nose pressing against the other’s warm skin. “Mh?” Harry’s humming was gentle, his fingers lightly caressing the younger boy’s arm, his chest steadily rising and falling beneath Louis’ cheek. A couple of seconds passed, and Louis looked up at him in the darkness of the cave, barely able to make out the expression on his face. When he tried to inhale deeply, his breath hitched. He struggled to find the words to tell Harry what he was thinking about. Another couple of seconds passed, and Louis listened to the reassuring beating of the prince’s heart beneath his cheek. He couldn’t. “Nothing,” he whispered, his voice weak. I think you’re half of my soul.

25) Love Will Tear Us Apart | Mature | 204,151 words

It was only meant to be a one night thing, but when the country goes into lockdown, Louis Tomlinson finds himself stuck in windsor castle, in company of his royal fucking highness, Harry, the prince of England.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

…i would like to request a Stewy Hosseini smut with the prompt "You like it when I'm mean to you?"

Needy.

24. "You like it when I'm mean to you?" + 33. "Been thinking about you all day."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. i've had so many stewy requests, oh my. i love writing this gorgeous man!! think i got a little feral creating this one. combined two requests here!!

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! cursing. mean stewy needs his own warning too.

Word Count - 1028

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

The minute he steps foot in the front door, you're on him.

He's all you've thought about all day. His big hands, rough palms, long fingers. His broad chest, strong shoulders, muscular back. His calculating eyes, soft beard, clever mouth. He's indoctrinated your thoughts. He's positively ruined you.

You're convinced you've spent hours today just staring into space, dreaming about him. What is he doing right now? Is he thinking of me too? Is he replaying the events of last night in his head just like I am?

You're surprised you've lasted all day. At one point, you were ready to put on your shoes and march over to his office, demanding that he take you right there and then. Instead, you rewatched the videos you'd filmed together, and allowed your blood to run hot with anticipation. You vowed you weren't even going to let him take off his coat before you jumped him.

He steps through the door and you're lunging at him, smashing your lips to his with vigour. He's slightly taken aback, almost stumbling, before he grabs your hips and steadies you both. You're whining into his mouth, pressing yourself against him as if you haven't seen him for 8 months rather than 8 hours.

"Hello to you too, honey," he chuckles against your lips. "What's gotten into you, huh?"

You can't answer him coherently. All you can focus on is the way he smells, his scent enveloping you and making you crazy.

You simply whinge in response, pawing at his jacket to try and get it off. You push it from his shoulders, and immediately work on unbuttoning his shirt.

"Look at you, pretty girl," he coos. "Always so desperate for me, aren't you?"

You're nodding frantically, going insane because your hands are shaking with need and you can't get his shirt off. You want to feel his warm skin, the hair that covers his chest, the way his muscles tense beneath your fingers. You need him more than you need to breathe.

"You want me to help you?" he teases condescendingly. "Has my baby gone so stupid she can't even get my shirt off?"

Stewy is mean. Plain and simple. Sure, he's soft with you. His tender, sweet, loving side is reserved for you and you only. Kisses on the forehead, opening doors, always holding your umbrella in the rain. He's a sweetheart in everyday life. But when he's riled up, when arousal replaces the blood running through his veins? He's ruthless.

You're panting, vibrating with need. You abandon his shirt and decide to pull your underwear down and off, shoving them into the pocket of his trousers. You pull your shirt over your head, allowing him to take in the sight of your heaving chest. He licks his lips, and places his hands on your waist.

"What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

His tone is so sickly sweet, it almost makes your blood run cold. You love it when he gets like this - patronising and cruel. It gives you a glimpse of business Stewy, the Stewy that everyone else sees.

"You," you finally sputter. "You, Stewy, need you."

"You've got me, baby. I'm right here, aren't I?" he's teasing you mercilessly, reveling in seeing you so needy.

"Please. Wanted you all day. Been thinking about you all day. Please."

He laughs at you, and it sends a shudder straight down your spine. It shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.

He gives in slightly, and moves his hand between your legs. When he feels how you're dripping down your thighs, he groans, deep and gutteral.

"Oh, honey," he sneers. "This is kinda pathetic. Haven't even touched you and you're soaked."

His tone makes your knees buckle. He spins you so you're the one pressed against the wall, and grabs you by the thighs to pick you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, your slick soaking the material of his dress pants.

"Use your words, pretty girl. Tell me what you want."

You buck your hips, attempting to find some friction. Stewy grabs your ass and stills you, holding you so you can't move.

"Fuck me, please. Please, please, please, please."

He's never been able to resist you when you beg. In one fluid movement, he's unbuttoned his pants and slid home inside you, filling you up the way you've been imagining all day.

He cants his hips upwards, setting a steady rhythm. He watches your face carefully, never taking his eyes off you. All you can hear is the sound of skin on skin, and the way the two of you are panting. He brushes a certain spot inside you, and the moan you release is borderline pornographic.

"Yeah? Right there, honey?" he teases.

When you don't reply, he slows the movement of his hips, coming to a complete stop.

"Answer me when I ask you a question. Have you gone stupid, baby, is that it? Have I made you dumb?"

You whine in response, but he keeps mocking you, condescension dripping from his tone.

"My dumb baby. My pretty, stupid girl."

You clench around him at his words, the insults just turning you on more.

"Oh, honey. You like it when I'm mean to you?"

Miraculously, you find your voice.

"Yes, fuck. Yes. I love it, Stewy."

You're practically crying, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks if he doesn't start moving again.

"And so she speaks. Good girl. That's all I wanted."

He thrusts up into you again, harder and faster this time. It doesn't take long before you're tightening around him, throwing your head back against the wall as you reach your high. You're whining his name, and it sends him over the edge with you.

You both stay connected, sweaty foreheads pressed together as you take heaving breaths in and out. Suddenly, you start giggling.

"What?" he asks curiously. "What's so funny, huh?"

"Just thinking about how you're kind of a sadist," you tease.

"And yet you love me anyway," he retorts, grinning as he kisses you.

"I do," you reply. "So much."

stewy tag list -

@616wilsons

@isuspectitwasthenargles

@justacaliforniandreamer

[kvalenagle]

Okay, I've been summoned to Tumblr by cute Satra and Lei fan art, so I should probably introduce myself and my books. Hello! I'm Vale, and I write creature fantasy as K. Vale Nagle. If you like interesting gryphons, you're in the right place: aquatic diving petrel/fishing cat gryphons, poisonous hooded pitohui/tiger gryphons, pretty gyrfalcon/snow leopard gryphons, intimidating Haast's eagle/saber-toothed tiger gryphons, soggy sandgrouse/sand cat gryphons, and a lot more. My series are epic fantasy using mostly real (though sometimes extinct) animals, free of humans but full of queer characters, intrigue, large battles, and ecological apocalypses. My cover art is by Jeff Brown, with interior graphite pieces by Brenda Lyons and gryphon chapter headers by Kittrel (whose chibi hearts you may have seen). I also have a short story collection (best read anytime after Starling, book three) with a beak-cute lesbian gryphon love story with terror birds, a Gryphon vs. Nature blizzard apocalypse tale, a Christmas-y story, and something pretty close to zombies. I've also written a full novel set in the world of Dire by John Bailey called Coldbright which can be found in the Tales of Feathers & Flames anthology. If you like GryphIns but you want something with more mystery, almost horror, as told through the eyes of a snarky little opinicus and his dire gryphon ex-boyfriend, it's a great read this time of year. I love and appreciate all the fan mail, fan fiction, fan letters, and people reaching out about this series. I'm a little slow replying, as I started writing the series right after getting diagnosed with a catastrophic autoimmune system. The treatments are pretty intense, and it's easiest for me to spend my time and energy writing. I used to have a few pen names across several genres, but for the most part, all of my energy goes into finishing up GryphIns. I'm married to dragon author Glenn Birmingham, so if you've seen us posting pictures of our cats and thought it's strange they share a name, they're the same cats. And that's about it. Just a queer author writing gryphony books when I'm not walking my cat. A few common answers to questions: Q: There are sometimes typos in social media, why is that? A: Catastrophic APS means I've had a stroke (and associated memory loss), so when a copy editor isn't coming up behind me, there'll be doubled words and typos from time-to-time. I used to worry about them, since they don't look good if you're an author! But I'd rather reply to fan letters and kind posts. I think if you've read my author notes at the back of my books, you know to expect a few doubled words here and there. Q: When you say a queer author, what do you mean? A: Since people ask about own voices and I have a lot of lgbtqia+ characters in my books, I'm pan, demi, trans, and genderfluid. I'm lucky enough to have a lot of queer friends and first readers who make sure I don't mess up any characters. Q: When's the next GryphIns novel coming out? A: Some years, I spend a lot of my time fighting health insurance battles, and it slows me down. Pridelord (#8) is currently in line edits. It's twice as long as Eyrie and three times as long as Coldbright, so it's a pretty big book! It shouldn't be too much longer. You'll know it's just about time because you'll hear James Scott Spaid talk about narrating the audiobook. Q: How many books will there be in GryphIns? A: I'm famous for underestimating how many books it takes to finish a series. My other pen names all wrote short stories and standalone novels, so my proposal for GryphIns originally had five books. Jeff Brown is wrapping up the cover for Saberbeak (#9) and Nighthaunt (#10). If I end up needing one more book to finish, though, don't be too surprised.

[envysarchive]

ahs seasons ranking

def biased and based on my personal opinion

cult - i just really love the different horror style in this, it resonated a lot with me bc when i was watching it i was really into the psychology of cults and i loved the character dynamics.

2. murder house - honestly pure nostalgia, ahs was what introduced me to the horror world so i will forever remember this season as amazing, besides the plot twists were just way too good.

3. asylum - arguably the best one, well-written and well-developed, def the scariest one too. i didn't know what to expect and i loved the ending. also i love lana.

4. freak show - i think this one just ranked this high bc of jessica and finn. dandy is imo one of the best characters in the whole show, overall the concept is just very interesting.

5. roanoke - sosososo underrated it's soo good i love it. both parts are very interesting and this one i couldn't watch at night bc i was afraid someone with a pig head would appear.

6. hotel - this was my favourite for a very long time, now i feel like it's good it's just a bit too messy, it's like they forgot the plot and only focused on developing characters (and there where A LOT)

7. nyc - probably the most underrated ever. everyone just kinda rejected it immediately bc it had almost no one from the og cast but the plot is soooo good. i was genuinely hooked and the forest scene is genuinely a masterpiece.

8. 1984 - i liked it i just feel like the whole time thing was a bit messy and i wished they had just sticked to a slasher, but it's not bad, just kinda chaotic.

9. coven - idk i like the characters in this but the plot was just boring. i get why people like it it's just not my thing and i feel like it's a tad overrated.

10. apocalypse - literally coven but worse. the first part where they were all locked seemed like a nice idea and i loved gallant. it just all went downhill from there.

11. delicate - honestly i shouldn't even be ranking this since i didn't even finish, it was just too boring even though i love emma. idk it just didn't work for me.

12. double feature - obvious last place choice.

[tciddaemina]

haha thank you @leviathiane for the tag

20 Questions for Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Exactly 100 currently. I'm working on my 100th fic and am aiming not to post anything more until I've finished that one

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

yikes. yikes. uh, so its 2,351,346 words (2.3 mil). look okay i'm a sucker for long fics okay

3. What fandoms do you write for?

a lot of things. i tend to be a fandom generalist, so i'll bounce around a lot between fandoms and have even (guiltily) written a few fics for fandoms that i havent seen canon of. i tend to think that for any fandom i'm enjoying, there's at least one or two good fics in it I could make if so inclined by numbers though my top fandoms are one piece, then naruto (bc of cross-overs with aforementioned one piece), then LoZ, and then SVSSS.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

duty, given chance bureaucratic processes it's what isn't in the name Vitra te Ikran the thing that remains

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Sometimes, but not super often. Often just if someone leaves a super nice comment that's very touching or if someone has a question. I appreciate all my commenters but I often just end up feeling awkward if I try to respond to them all. If you ever have commented on one of my fics through, I love and appreciate you and I'm kissing you on the mouth

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

At the moment its probably three past the hour, my Katakuri/Sanji work, but when I get round to finishing no one left to tell the secret, my demon AU Shanks/Buggy fic, then it will probably be that one

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hhhhhhh, maybe the thing that remains? that one gets quite fluffy at the end. a lot of my works have happy endings though, so its hard to say.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Almost never. I get people being weird sometimes, like that one rando commenting on my Zoro/Kisame fic whining about how Zoro shouldn't be gay, but like. eh. eh. Cannot remember a single proper instance of hate or flaming.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Haha man. Lets look at the stats. Yeah, uh, 35 of my 100 fics are rated explicit, and some of these fics are pretty freaky. Look i've done size kink, i've done various flavours of monsterfucking, one of my series with the biggest following is one about a dude falling in love with and getting hot with a sentient suit of armour. I write some weird stuff

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I write some, but sort of only occasionally. For proper crossovers, I only really have my naturo x one piece series and my doom slayer x batman story. I tend to prefer aus, so like i have a hannibal souleaster au and a bleach elden ring au.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. Lets say no and hope it stays that way

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

My NiF fic with honour was translated into Russian as part of an event a few years back. That's the only one currently though

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really. Cher and I played around with something a while back but its sort of been on the back burner. I've got a stupid Supernatural fic I'm working on right now that is essentially co-written, just because discord friends are helping me figure out what the fuck happened in canon, since I never watched it 😂

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Trafalgar Law/Luffy. I write a lot of stuff and ship a lot of things but these guys are my absolute fave. Writing my big Lawlu fic took the better part of two years and got me through some hard times, so they just have a special place in my heart

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

This ones hard. There's a lot of fics I want to come back to but there's just not enough hours in the day. I'm overflowing with projects and sometimes I just don't manage to get back to them. I always mean to try go back, so I don't want to write them off. I'm gonna cop out on this one and not answer

16. What are your writing strengths?

World building, maybe? I have degrees in botany and anthropology, and studied ecology and zoology as well while I was at uni. I feel like world building, especially coming up with fun cultural stuff, is something I've learned how to do well, and its something I enjoy a lot. Other than that, idk, I feel like I have strong dialogue as well. It's never been something I struggled with a lot

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Conciseness. Not having run away sentences. I get carried away sometimes with long descriptions for things. Also repetitiveness sometimes. I sometimes catch one paragraph just rewording what I'd been trying to express in the last, which can bloat things. And goddamn though, my inability to keep projects small. I can't remember the last time I managed to finish a project in under 15k. It's a real problem.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It usually feels clunky, and I don't really do it unless its for a language that doesn't exist. Its too easy to make stupid mistakes if you're trying to write in a language you don't know, which can be annoying for natural speakers, and even if I do know a language and am confident having a character talk in another language still puts the readers in a weird position. Like I feel like its often done to instill a sense of mystery, but like as a reader I mostly just find it tiring to deal with. So yeah, nah. I'll do bits and pieces in made up languages when its useful to help create a sense of cultural depth, but not usually otherwise.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Cringes. Probably Harry Potter. That was sort of the kiddy pool of fandom back in the day and it was definitely where my main writing stayed for a while. I don't think I have a single HP story still up, except maybe VtI, which... yeah is a complicated case

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

It's a tossup between the thing that remains, which even two years after finishing just owns my heart and soul, and one hundred years past, which was my first ever Ganondorf/Link fic. That one was just so much fun to write and is so solid, like I'm still very happy with it, and its a fic I'm always happy to see comments on

@chershare, @everbright-mourning, @transmascgerudo, @zaera-d. i cant remember if you write much @sanguine-tenshi but hey just in case. also @shizunitis just in case you write any fic as well and wanna be included.

man its problematic that you tagged me leviathiane because otherwise i'd tag you 😂😂😂

[garf-lover96]

my long ass elaborate ranking of Will Wood's (and The Tapeworms') albums!! (Everything is a Lot ranking list)

for the purpose of making this i've been listening to this whole album like non stop for the past week. i even made my parents listen to it with me (my mom liked it and said that she'd go to see the songs live if she could!). it was actually pretty difficult to rank all of them but i think the top 3 will remain unchanged forever, they're some of my all time favorites from will wood!! the way i'll do this i think is i'll write down all the things i like about a particular song, maybe a favorite lyric and a favorite moment or something. or just some general rambling. also i split Everything is a Lot into Everything is a Lot and Destroy to Enjoy, like in the remastered album!

———

1. Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY (Bones)

first time i heard this song was over a year ago so i can't tell what my exact first impression was but it did almost immediately become my favorite song ever. I LOVE IT SO MUCH IT'S INSANE. also fun fact, memberoflottiescult really likes this song!

my main thing with this song is that it sounds like?? you know, bones?? it sounds like skeletons. the melody is like something a skeleton would've come up with. i can't explain it but it is hearable. best song ever

2. 6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro / Con)

it was one of the first will's songs i've ever liked on spotify. ughhhh the energy, the general mashing of the piano and it sounding like it's about to fall apart any second lol!! the high ass notes. perfect, so perfect. i was listening to this song while purchasing a meter long plush goose. the song is like a brother to me

my favorite part is the spoken "am i being detained? am i under arrest? read me my rights please! I WANT MY PHONECALL" it's uhfhdfhkf. showstopping

3. White Knuckle Jerk (Where Do You Get Off?)

it took me exactly one (1) full listen to this one to absolutely fall in love with it, holy fuck. one of the best things i've ever heard. every time it's on i have to loop it a few times

my favorite parts are the "i wonder how i woke up in the middle of my surgery and i watched them botch my heart. only the second worst thing that i could've thought was 'this won't have to end if it doesn't start'" and "i'll never know what it's like to love you" because ummm???? the emotion in his voice omfg, i love it when this happens. it's so perfect (reminds me of julian devorak..........)

4. Lygerside Daydream

had me hooked after the first listen as well. i love the melody and i love how the lyrics are written here. i, too, want to blow the seeds of dandelions and wish for nothing more. such a sweet sound. one of my favorites as well. nice to daydream to, ha!!!

5. Front Street

idk how to explain this but the pace of the song, like the way the lyrics are sung is so satisfying. just the sentence structure and stuff.. uhhh i really don't know how to describe this, but i love it a whole lot. the piano melody here is amazing as well it so???? I DON'T FUCKING KNOW it's just good

6. The First Step

so nice to sing along to!!! "and i hope i don't choke on my vomit tonight" and "take my anxiety and my sobriety, i'll kill two birds with one stoner. so if you see me please, take my keys i don't wanna be an organ donor" are my favorite parts:3 so satisfyingly said

7. Chemical Overreaction / Compound Fracture

one of my first ones too i'm pretty sure. the chorus really pulled me in. fast and fun. i think i showed it to my godfather once. the spanish part scratches my brain so good

8. Cover This Song (A Little Bit Mine)

very nice to sing along to as well. i love the melody on the very first verse. i love the part with the piano solo so much

9. Everything is a Lot

i love the melody sooooooo much, "all the moments you've lost, all the money it cost" part is my favorite. shouldn't be overlooked!!!!!

10. Red Moon

i had to come around to it a bit but i actually love it. love the "the constellations form infinite paisleys in the sky" part, such a nice sound. satisfying lyrics in general

11. Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq. G.F.D.

nice to listen to when i want to have something screaming into my ears. loooove the fact that liar liar was sampled in the beginning, i really like that movie. i used to be obsessed with jim carrey also. i binged pretty much all of his movies as a little lad

12. Jimmy Mushrooms' Last Drink: Bedtime in Wayne, NJ

the kalimba kind of bothered me initially but i got used to it. i enjoy the melody. don't have much to say about it

13. ¡Aikido! (Neurotic / Erotic)

it's not horrible by any means, it just kind of doesn't do it for me. i usually skip it

14. Destroy to Enjoy

satisfying rhymes, i prefer not to listen to construction work as a past time

———

this took so long to put together, i kept forgetting about it or rearranging it...

[ashcoveredtraveler]

So ummm I have been thinking about editing and changing some details for my long-fic, "Could We Have Peace?" This isn't a decision I have fully made so these changes may not even happen. I am just rambling here.

So this wouldn't be the first time I changed an aspect of my fic. I have already done it twice before.

I have an old draft of the fic which I uploaded called 'what could have been peace?" And in this old draft Ghost went back during the climb out of the abyss and Howl is still a young vessel. I only had 8 chapters written, and I hadn't uploaded any chapters at that point, so I have able to change it pretty easily.

The second time I changed the fic was when I uploaded chapter 14. At that point I didn't like how soft Orrin was. I thought he would need to get through some character development before becoming a 'good person'. He is a king, he doesn't quite know how to be soft to a personal level. So I put the fic on pause, edit the Pale Kings part and then resumed uploading chapters while putting the note in chapter 15 that I edit PK personality.

Now, I uploaded chapter 33 of my fic, and I would like to change Howl's ability to see.

I have thought about this change for a while, but recently after seeing this artwork, I was actually thinking about doing it.

If I do this then I would have to change Howl's character and how they perceive things. In the fic I always wrote how they liked seeing all the different colors, from clothing to environment. But then if they were blind then they would have to describe what they are hearing, and feeling. Let me go section to section to see what has to be changed

- Howl would escape the Palace as their injuries are catching up with them, meaning their blindness. They would have to wander through Kingdoms Edge blind. I like this image, just them stumbling around until they eventually find Markoth.

- (I initially thought their communication style would change, but I think that they could write just very sloppily)

-(while they are still in Kingdom's Edge they could bet a better sense of their surroundings though the void. They could sense little hoppers and booflies and practice at sensing life.)

- Howl would have a lot more trouble getting out of Kingdom's Edge, which means that Markoth practically has to be attached at the hip to make sure they don't fall. So when their arm eventually falls off, he would only know mere seconds before they collapse.

-The Resting Grounds shouldn't be too difficult of a place to traverse through. They will for sure bonk their head multiple times, but this is their chance to sense other living beings and actually sense their surroundings. I mention in the fic that they loved the colors of the tapestries throughout the Seers hut, so she might let them touch them and explain what is on them. They would certainly love the texture of them and pretty much anything in the hut.

-when they get to Blue Lake, they would enjoy the salt washing over them. In the fic I wrote how they loved the color, and I don't want to take out their hyper-fixation of the lake. They would recognize Quirrel by the sound of his voice when he comes in.

-(now I was thinking if Howl was blind, there was no way Markoth would drag them through Crystal Peaks, Howling Cliffs and then the Emerald Caverns. But I think he knows he doesn't have much of a choice. Besides, they have been getting better and are able to sense lifeforms. So Markoth would assist them though some portions).

- In chapter 26 when Howl has their panic attack, they could have simply gotten stuck anywhere.

-Another tricky section is when Xero and Howl have their conversation in chapter 30, I don't know if Howl would willingly leave their bed and wander when no one is awake. Though they could simply sense where everyone was and check the campgrounds before hand so they know where to go.

- Yet another tricky section is when Quirrel almost falls into a cavern and Howl saves him. How could they have done this? Will I use void as a way again?

- the Howling Cliffs has the same solution as Crystal Peaks

-The Festival I bet Howl would need assistance to get through the Emerald Caverns simply cause there are so many more bugs around. I think they would have the same mentality for dancing and would do it. They would recognize Ghosts name and then sense their siblings.

Now, even if I can make those changes with current chapters, there are a few things in planned chapters that make their sight important.

I know this post was a bit rambling, but I wanted to play around with this idea as I like the concept of blind hk.

[undercat-overdog]

8 and 10 for fic asks!!

Thank you for the ask! And likewise thank you to @lulukeskywalker, who asked the same questions.

10. Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Hmm. Some other (briefer) answers to the same question here, but I've been thinking about what's easier to do in fanfic than original fiction and I think writing a romance that starts with the relationship already established is one of things. (Obviously it's not impossible! But with fanfic, there's generally a nebulous get-together backstory that's shared and many readers are willing to suspend disbelief and just pick up. Whereas origfic, the first book is almost always that get-together and the subsequent books are established.)

(Is established relationship a trope? I have no clue, I'm always a little uncertain what counts as a trope.)

Anyways, nice for me, because I really like established relationship, more than I like get-togethers (as general categories, not necessarily in the specific). Likewise, I love get-back-togethers, which I think pattern more with established relationships in this way because the original relationship is there already.

To give a self-centered example, Shall These Bones Live is structurally and plot-wise a get-together, but it's also established relationship in that they were together at one point. I don't show how they got together originally because most people reading it will know a basic sg get-together backstory and I can go in without showing it because I trust that the reader doesn't need it. I do show the breakup, because the how is important and my how is, to my knowledge, unique to my fic so since the reader won't have seen this variation before (or so I assume), I do need to establish it. (It's also necessary wrt the plot and character arcs, so I go into detail.) If I had an unusual get-together backstory, I would show it, but since I don't there's no need to.

Also better for smut, in particularly kinky smut, at least for me. Romantic, otp first times typically don't lend themselves to kink, but when the characters are already in a sexual relationship, there's a lot of stuff that's easier for me to both write and read (in romance as opposed to something like a fuck motel, where it starts out with the character being pushed into the deep end).

Question 8 under the cut, it got long:

8. Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I am philosophically committed to writing smut, but also it's really all I want to write right now.

I think the idea I haven't talked about much is a post-Bones one that deals with the assholes' first forays into bdsm, which will end up providing a safe space to deal with that unfortunate past torture-murder: they'll both stop scenes at points and come to trust both that the other will stop and that the other can stop themselves. This would be more Sauron-focused. Celebrimbor's issues will be more him deciding he wants something and forcing himself to power through when he really should stop a scene (and wanting Sauron to power through when Sauron stops: C needs to learn not just that there are times he should stop but that he shouldn't pressure S), but Sauron... He had his boyfriend flogged near to death more than once and now that bf-turned-husband wants Sauron to hit him again: S is not ok with this! (and he's really not ok with how he finds himself enjoying it.) This will also involve Sauron confronting his own trauma about seeing how the man he loves was tortured and what it did to him. Which obviously is 1000% S's fault!!! But he also saw how C was hurt and that hurts him too. That part will be difficult - writing silvergifting (c/s, not c&s) is writing intimate partner violence (or what happens after, in this case); it's important to... oh, be aware of what I'm writing? I think there are few things that are bad in and of themselves to write about (though those things exist), but lots of things that need to be written with awareness. Anyways, centering C as the victim despite it being a story with more focus on S's character arc? (Also an exercise for me in writing from the pov of the dom, though I think it'd be from both their povs.)

Anyways, therapy through sex because I like sadomasochism and many of the associate kinks and also some humorous roleplay that would be deeply embarrassing if anyone besides them found out about it. Good god, if I ever write this it will be a novella.

[mint-yooxgi]

{3} - Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 9,085

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two

You were wrong.

Not only is this redcap the most infuriating fae possible, but he has no tact when it comes to handling you. Clearly, he’s never dealt with humans before, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. Every chance he gets, he’s shoving you around, pulling you harshly to your feet and snapping at you to ‘get a move on’ if you’re not moving at a quick enough pace for him.

Gone is the almost surreal atmosphere of peace the morning had brought you. Instead, as evening shifts into night, only irritation seems to fill the silence between the two of you. Whether he’s upset at himself for relating to a human or not is unbeknownst to you. All you do know is that he seems to dislike you more than he did the previous day.

“Are you done yet?” His voice cuts through the gentle sounds of the pond you’re currently bathing in.

Your head turns to stare at his back, noticing he stands a better guard than Windfel ever did. Not once did this fae turn around even to toy with you. Truly, he kept his word about being respectful about this kind of stuff, and for that, you should be grateful. Only, a creeping sense of dread begins to sink into your bones.

Slowly, you begin to make your way out of the pond, not quite feeling as refreshed as you should. The constant pounding of your heart within your chest reminds you that you’re still alive, and as you pull on the new clothes, you cannot keep your hands from shaking.

“Have you finished? I need to wrap your wound.” His arms are crossed over his chest, that much you can tell.

“I can do it myself.” Comes your somewhat sharp reply, looking around for where he put that roll of bandages he scavenged from a nearby town.

“No, you’re going to do it wrong.” He sighs, beginning to tap his foot against the ground. “I don’t want your wound getting infected again and slowing us down even further.”

Your features pull into a scowl. One which you are grateful he cannot see at the moment. You remain silent, tugging the loose shirt over your head once dry enough to do so. Only a grunt is given to acknowledge he can turn to face you, one which he seemingly immediately understands.

“Sit down.” He commands, walking over to you with another leaf filled with fresh paste in his one hand.

You comply, barely holding back your grumble of discontent. “Yes, General.”

The fae lets out a sharp breath through his nose, kneeling beside you on the ground. He says nothing as he begins to apply the paste over your now healing wound.

The cut on your leg is doing tremendously better in such a short amount of time. No longer does it crust at the edges, and the swelling has gone down significantly. There’s a small scab that rests over the deepest part of the cut, but the edges are much fainter than before, almost scar like in appearance. Sure, it still aches, but it’s nowhere near as horrendous or as infected as it once was.

Carefully, he spreads the paste over your cut. You notice his claws have retracted once more, and though he’s focussing intently on what he’s doing, he isn’t all that gentle. At one particular point, he adds a bit too much pressure to his fingers over the worst part of your cut, and you flinch.

A sharp hiss escapes you before you can stop yourself, and he removes his hand.

He says nothing as he discards of the leaf this time, reaching over to grab the roll of bandages. Wordlessly, he slides his one hand beneath your knee, tugging it upwards without warning.

Your initial response is to scold him, but given how close he is to you right now, combined with the fact that he is treating your wound, you don’t want to give him an opportunity to attack you. If he’s this good with treating them, then obviously he’s even better at causing them. Besides, there are ways he could torment you with the worst pain imaginable, all while making sure to still keep you alive.

It’s not like that hasn’t happened before. You would know.

There is no time, nor opportunity for you to be embarrassed right now. True to his word, he barely takes his eyes from your wounded leg the whole time he treats it. No roaming hands. No snide remarks, or suggestive comments about anything.

Whether he takes notice of the other scars lining your legs is unbeknownst to you, for he doesn’t comment on a single one. Instead, his brow is furrowed in concentration, his hands moving roughly around your thigh as he wraps the bandage around your wound. It’s almost as if he’s working subconsciously, letting his muscles repeat the monotonous motion of covering your wound without thinking. Almost as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder about him. What was his past like? How did he learn to treat wounds this well? Is he truly as terrifying as you’ve been led to believe?

You catch yourself, blinking a few time to clear your vision. These are not things you should concern yourself with. You need to worry about yourself, and only yourself right now.

Looking back at the fae, you notice that his eyes are glazed. Still, he stares intently down at your thigh. You can tell he’s not paying attention, for he bandages your thigh too tightly, tying it off without a second thought.

“It’s too tight.” A blunt comment which seems to snap him out of his thoughts.

“No, it’s not.” He clicks his tongue, standing back to his feet. “Quit complaining, and let’s get a move on. I’ve already wasted enough time waiting for you today.”

“Isn’t it dangerous for me to travel at night?” You remark, tugging the fresh pair of pants over your legs as he walks over to the tree line.

“Not with me, it’s not.” Comes his gruff reply as he begins to stalk deeper into the woods. “Keep up. I’m not stopping if you fall behind.”

Without another word, and with a deep sigh, you take off after him. That stem of red spider lilies you still have with you gets hastily tucked back into your pants pocket. Despite the petals wilting every day, you cling onto it. It means too much to you, and the fact that you were able to find a single stem in the wild still makes your head spin.

Your favourite flower, come to bring you home.

Surprisingly, you manage to keep pace with the fae quite well. You can tell he’s not travelling at his top speed, but the trek is still manageable, and your thigh doesn’t throb once.

Your ankle on the other hand…

Sometime over the course of the night, your foot had started going numb. Your limp has become more prominent, and with every step you take, pain shoots up your right ankle. You manage to bear it for quite a bit longer. That is, until you lose your footing, tripping over a sudden root in your path and falling to the ground with a loud thump.

An annoyed sigh greets your ears, followed by even louder stomps heading back in your direction.

“Are you that incompetent-“ A sharp intake of breath. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m always bleeding.” You push yourself upward, feeling pain shoot through your fingertips.

Oh, yes. You forgot. You cracked your nails.

Sitting yourself on the ground, you let out a sigh of your own. Gently, you go to raise your hands to your face in order to assess the damage. However, before you can get very far, two large hands envelope your own.

“You’re a walking disaster.” He clicks his tongue, studying your fingertips thoroughly.

His touch is not soft, but it’s not as rough as this morning. Still, he turns your hands in his without thought, tugging your arms lightly forward as he brings your fingertips closer to his face.

Your expression hardens, pursing your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

He says nothing, but you do notice his gaze flick upwards to your face. A moment later, and he’s letting out another sigh. “Is there anything else I should be made aware of?”

“Well, since you’re asking,” you reply smartly, pain and irritation ridding you of your normal filter. “I haven’t been able to feel my right foot for over two hours.”

He swears lowly under his breath. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were now my own personal doctor.” You snap.

A low growl greets you in response, and you freeze. With wide eyes, you meet his own.

“I would like to make it back to my home without any further setbacks.” He snarls. “Preferably with you in one piece.”

“Didn’t realize I was so important to you, General,” you tug your hands out from his grip, and surprisingly, you do not feel the sharp sting of fresh cuts adorning your skin from his claws. In fact, it looks as if he retracted them before he even started examining your hands.

A strange, yet welcomed fact which you didn’t bother to notice until now.

“You’re not.” He spits out his reply, standing back to his full height in the next second. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a bit with some supplies.”

Without waiting for a response, he takes off into the night. 

All you can hear are the sounds of the forest around you, and the faint stomping of the fae away from you as you drag yourself to rest against a tree. Finally, you feel as if you can breathe easier. 

There’s a war going on within yourself. You still want to make the general so mad that he kills you in a fit of rage, while another part of you is genuinely regretting that decision. Whether it happens or not, is still yet to be seen. At least you no longer have starvation, dehydration, and infection clouding your mind.

About an hour later, the fae returns to see you having stripped yourself of your pants. The bandage he had tied around your thigh rests to the side as you let the wound breathe, and it looks the best it has in weeks. Whatever that paste is made from has really helped, for now all that remains of the initial cut is a small scar, and a minor scab.

You notice he spares a glance at your thigh. “How’s your leg?”

Your brow quirks, but you school your features into a neutral expression almost as quickly as it comes.

“Well, I’m starting to gain feeling back in my foot.” You say, watching him carefully as he crosses the short distance between the both of you. “I told you the bandages were too tight.”

“Do you ever stop nagging?” His features twist in irritation as he crouches beside you.

Almost instantly, your breath catches, and your expression falls. Your throat bobs as you swallow thickly, averting your gaze to the side. Old memories, ones you had shoved deep down inside of you resurface, and bile rises in your throat.

“I suppose I should feel grateful for having you keep me from dying.”

“Feel whatever you want to, mortal,” he sighs, handing you a canteen of water. “I have no ties to you, and you have none to me.”

“Then, what do you call this?” Pointedly, you spare a glance down at your almost fully healed thigh, making sure to catch his gaze.

“Insurance.” He states bluntly. Not even a second later, his eyes fall shut, and he’s breathing out a long sigh. “Look, I’m getting tired of repeating myself-“

“I know.” You cut him off. “I’m useless if I can’t function properly.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.” You turn your head, jaw twitching as tears prick at your eyes.

You’ve heard it all before. Over and over for what feels like your entire life. Friends, family… all those that were supposed to love you, to care for you.

You nearly scoff.

Love. What a useless emotion. You’re not even sure it exists anymore. Though, you’re sure your parents would argue that they did even this for you out of whatever twisted love they claim to have for you.

No. They wouldn’t know love even if it hit them right in their faces. 

No one has ever loved you. No one ever will.

“We’ll rest here until you’re fully healed, and then we’ll continue the journey back to the keep.” His voice, solid and stern, pulls you out of your own thoughts. “That way there’s no excuse as to why we need to make additional stops.”

“Yes, General,” your voice is much weaker than before, barely coming out as more than a hoarse whisper. It’s as if you’ve suddenly lost the will to fight. If you ever even had it in the first place.

A grunt is all you hear from him in response. In fact, that’s all you hear from him for the rest of the morning, and as the sun begins to rise over the horizon, you fall into a deep, restless sleep.

***

It takes two full days for your wound to fully heal. Granted it only took one for the cut to become nothing more than a scar, but it was better to be safe, than sorry.

Despite the setbacks, Mingi actually feels relieved now that he knows you won’t be able to slow him down since your thigh has healed. Looking after you hasn’t been so bad, either. Your company, surprisingly enough, can actually be quite enjoyable.

There are times where you don’t seem to filter yourself as heavily as others. He enjoys those the most. You have an attitude to you that he can appreciate. An attitude which reminds himself of his younger days, before he became the seasoned general that he is now. He honestly wishes he would see it more often from you, but every time you allow yourself to snap back at him, it’s as if you expect him to hit you for it.

Not only that, but the past few times you’ve fallen asleep, you seem to be tormented by terrors unknown to him. He can hear you thrashing against the tree you rest on, whimpering into the stillness of the night as your body attempts to curl in on itself.

It bothers him, and he doesn’t understand why. 

Ever since he saw you attempting to frantically crawl away from him that day after he had slaughtered that deer, something within himself has shifted. 

Mingi has always known he’s a monster. He was born a monster. He was raised a monster. He is a monster, and he’s never for one moment denied that part of himself. Of course, he has his own moral code he lives by, but again, he doesn’t enjoy wasting his time on easy prey. 

If it’s not worth killing over, it’s not worth dying for.

Besides, no one respects him for the minor kills. He wouldn’t have gotten where he is today if he took the easy path. He has a reputation to uphold, and killing people that are not even worth his time only makes people fear him.

Fear isn’t what can drive people to be loyal. Respect can.

No one gains respect by slaughtering countless humans here. At least, in his opinion. It would be the same as targeting children. Who gains honour from tearing apart the weak and defenceless? Certainly not him. He never has, and he never will. 

There’s no valour in that.

Still, there is something about you that irritates him to no end. Every time you call him general, he wants to rip your tongue from your throat. The way he catches you looking at him from time to time makes him want to gouge your eyes from your head. Yet, there’s something about the way you’ve come to rely on him, about being able to actually take care of something in such a way instead of destroying like he’s used to. Something about the way he feels as if he can just live around you, causes his guard to weaken and start to crumble. 

A vulnerability he hasn’t felt in a long time. A vulnerability that, in actuality, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt in his entire life.

Maybe that’s why you irritate him so much.

Stupid human making him feel stupid things he’s never felt before.

The sun sets in the distance, casting a golden hue across the surrounding area. A gentle breeze cools the humid air of the day, giving way for the crisp stillness that night is sure to bring.

Still, you limp along.

Your stamina has improved since your wound has healed, and you seem to be more keenly aware of your surroundings. Enough so, that Mingi can see the familiar shine of recognition behind your eyes as the forest begins to thin up ahead. 

“Shouldn’t there-“ you swallow, panting lightly. “Shouldn’t there be a town up ahead?”

A low hum in confirmation is all you receive in response as Mingi breaks through the tree line. He pauses, waiting for you to catch up. Taking the time now, he scans over the area, no annoying pests in sight. Of course, there are the town’s other inhabitants, but at least the pain in the ass seems to be gone for the moment. If his missing scent is anything to go by, Seonghwa hasn’t been home in quite a few days.

Perhaps those small set backs were more of an advantage than Mingi thought.

“Come on,” Mingi says, leading you towards a tavern across the way. “We’ll stay here for the night. I could use a decent rest in a bed instead of on the ground for a change.”

Eager eyes follow the both of you as you cross the short distance between the woods and the tavern, and Mingi can already hear the whispers floating in the air. He knows that he’s easily recognizable, given the red band tied around his upper arm, but hearing them comment about you sets his skin prickling.

The worst part is, he doesn’t know why.

Stepping inside, the familiar smells of malt ale and other fermented substances greet his nostrils. There’s a distinct stench of body odour, and malcontent lingering in the air that irritate his nose the further into the tavern he goes. The rowdy patrons are all around, laughing and jeering amongst themselves as he steps up to the counter. 

Even though he spares a glance over his shoulder to check, he knows that you’re scurrying after him as fast as you can. You seem to be able to feel the pointed stares sent your way as Mingi discusses lodging arrangements with the owner. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Mingi watches you shift uncomfortably on your feet, curling in on yourself as loud voices reach the both of your ears.

“Isn’t that that infamous redcap general?” A loud whisper cuts through the noise of the tavern.

“What’s a human doing with him?” Another hisses, and Mingi can feel his one ear twitch.

“You think he’s claimed her?”

“I don’t see a mark.” Such a smug comment causes Mingi’s jaw to tick in irritation. 

What ever happened to minding one’s own business?

“You think we could convince him to let us have some fun with her?”

“Maybe I should give her a mark of my own-“

“Watch your tongue before you lose it.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, his sharp gaze locked onto the fae that had uttered such a repulsive phrase.

A sudden silence encases the entire tavern, and even your eyes go wide. 

The comment from the general is so unexpected, it seems to even surprise him.

Mingi is acutely aware of all eyes on him now. Not even a drop of condensation falls against a single glass as he snatches the ward key from the counter. With his opposite hand, he pushes you along, only causing you to stumble forwards and towards the stairs at the back of the room.

“Don’t concern yourselves with business that is not your own.” Mingi snaps, practically shoving you up the stairs and out of sight from hungry, prying eyes. 

Eyes of which that seem to follow you all the way to the room. A fact which only serves to irritate him more, a scowl tugging at his features as he unlocks the door with the ward key. A moment later, the entrance swings open, and he’s dragging you inside.

“This was a bad idea.” He begins to pace, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I was fine the last time I passed through this town.” Your reply is much softer than he’s used to, and he spares a glance in your direction.

There you stand, still fidgeting in your spot. Your hands tug at the long sleeves of your shirt, shoulders curling in on yourself as you intently stare at the ground. Your eyes have lost that faint shine he’s come to know over the past few days, the brightness having dulled suddenly into a blank nothingness.

He bets you’re thinking about their eyes on you, and how everyone was gazing at you like you were a piece of meat. Even he can still see the way tongues ran over sharp teeth, lips curling back against fangs in malicious grins as the scents of excitement and thrill bombarded his senses.

His own lips draw back in a scowl, and he nearly growls.

“Do you understand what they were implying?” Mingi can barely keep his breathing under control as he turns to look out the window.

Claws dig into wood, fingers nearly snapping the window frame from the pressure of his grip. What only makes this worse is he doesn’t understand why those comments have set him off so much. It’s simply typical fae talk, no different than what his subordinates had said when you first showed up at the edge of their encampment.

Thinking back on it now, the thought nearly makes him snarl.

“It’s nothing I’m not used to with men-“

“They are not men.” Mingi snaps, his chest heaving as he turns to face you.

Immediately, you recoil back, mild shock on your features. That is, until you’re schooling your expression and taking a deep breath in.

“Why should it matter what they say, then?” You keep your voice low, steady. 

“It doesn’t.” His reply is quick. Too quick.

“Aren’t they your kin? Don’t you think the exact same way?” Your voice rises slightly, and the tears he can see shining in your gaze cause his chest to begin to ache.

“I have never- will never think that way.” Mingi shakes his head, fingers tangling in his locks and tugging exasperatedly at the roots. “I may not like your kind, but I don’t agree with treating them however we want to just because we can.”

His head is spinning and throbbing all at once. He feels both freezing cold and burning hot, and he cannot prevent his eyes from shifting from you to the door. His breathing, which he has always been able to master, comes in erratic pants, fangs bared as his claws scratch at his scalp.

“You had no problem with it before when it was your men saying it.”

A silence so deadly settles over the room.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi has you pinned against the wall. His arm rests over your upper chest as he looms over you, teeth bared in a snarl. Raised in the air above his head is his opposite arm, claws glinting beneath the light of the moon as he prepares to strike.

Only, the hitch in your breath pulls him back to reality.

Immediately, he stumbles away from you, staring at his hands in horror. He doesn’t register the single sob that echoes through the silence of the room like a knife, nor does he hear the frantic beating of your heart over his own racing in his ears. What he does catch, however, is the single tear that cuts a path down your cheek, and the way your trembling body collapses to the floor.

The moment you touch ground, you go limp, staring vacantly at the wall across from you.

Mingi’s hands drop to his sides, balling them into fists as he stomps over to the door. 

“I’ll be back.”

The last thing he sees before the door swings shut is you supporting yourself with your hands braced upon the floor. He doesn’t give himself time to think as he storms back downstairs and straight over to the bar, ignoring the pointed stares sent his way.

He needs time to think, to sort out the mess that is his head. Perhaps you could use this time alone, too. Besides, it’s not like you can escape the room you’re in. Only he has the key to get in, and it’s not like you can jump out of the window. The glass is too strong for you to break.

You’re trapped, just like you’ve always been since he caught up to you. Yet, for some reason, that simple thought makes his brow furrow.

He doesn’t want you to feel trapped…

Frowning down into his glass, Mingi downs his ale. A few moments later, and his glass has been refilled. What a perfect way to end the day: by drowning his sorrows in a room full of boisterous fae, drinking until even the most proper of them cannot tell up from down.

About an hour into his drinking, he senses a few other fae saddle up beside him. The scraping of the stools on the ground cuts through the noise of the tavern, and much to Mingi’s annoyance, the fae from earlier that were making comments are the ones that surround him.

“So, what brings you to town, General?” The one with muted butterfly wings on his back asks. He was the one who commented on convincing Mingi to have some fun with you.

Mingi takes another sip of his drink. “Hunt.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re with that human.” Another hums, small horns protruding from the top of his head. His skin has a slight green hue to it, and Mingi recalls the way he spoke about giving you a mark of his own. “Mustn’t have put up much of a fight, eh?”

A scowl mars Mingi’s brow, but he hides it behind the rim of his glass, downing the rest of its contents in a single shot.

“Surprised she’s not torn to shreds.” Another hums, leaning casually against the edge of the bar. He’s a bit shorter than the other two, but Mingi notes the way he bounces his one hand in the air, almost impatiently. “Or are you saving that for later?”

“Oh, you sly general, you,” the one with the horns nudges Mingi’s shoulder. “Lure the human into a false sense of security, then tear her asunder when she least expects it!”

The three fae share a laugh, fangs glinting beneath the light as their lips curl deviously in mirth.

“I thought I told you to not concern yourself with business that is not your own.” Mingi replies gruffly, slamming his now empty glass back on top of the counter.

“It’s not our fault you brought an unclaimed human into our midst.” The one leaning against the counter titters.

“Really, you should share some of the fun with the rest of us,” the winged one laughs, flicking his eyebrows in a suggestive matter.

“And what would your town’s overseer say if he could hear you now?” Mingi turns his sharp gaze towards the two fae on his right side.

If there’s one thing that Mingi can’t fault the pain in the ass for, it’s that he maintains good control over those that follow him. At least, those that reside in this town.

“Seonghwa’s not here.” The fae with the horns hums. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

Mingi’s jaw twitches. These fae have clearly done this multiple times with humans before, and gotten away with it despite Seonghwa’s rule not to touch any that enter the village under his watch. Though, with that specificity, Mingi isn’t that surprised.

“Come on, General,” the one with the wings taunts. “Think of how satisfying her shrieks of terror will be.”

A flash of you scrambling away from him in terror flashes through his mind, your desperate cries ringing through his ears.

“Humans are such weak, pathetic creatures, anyways.” The one leaning on the counter rolls his eyes as Mingi stands to his feet. “It’ll probably be the only action she ever sees in her life with how ugly she is. She’ll probably be thanking us by the end of it for make her feel desirable.”

An image, soft and pure, of you tenderly gazing down at that wilting stem of spider lilies flits through his mind, and Mingi tenses. A blink, and the once peaceful scene shifts, blood splattered over your face as tears cut fresh tracks through the dirt and grime smeared over your cheeks.

“Don’t you want to feel the warmth of her blood spilling onto your hands as you bathe yourself in its crimson flow?” The fae with the horns grins maniacally. “Taste its bitter scent as it drips down your tongue?”

Mingi’s hands, which are currently clenched into fists at his sides, begin shaking.

“Come on, General,” the one that’s leaning against the bar continues, pushing himself forwards to lean into the silent redcap’s back. “Let us have our fun. We’ll take her off your hands.”

“Yeah,” The winged one smirks, eyes glinting in the light of the tavern. “Don’t you know human meat is a delicacy around here?”

“Let alone one so young, and fresh,” the horned one snickers, his grin widening as he licks his lips. “Oh, I can’t wait to tear into her-“

Blood splatters across the top of the bar, and every patron turns to see what the sudden commotion is about. Not a sound can be heard for several tense moments as realization settles over the entire room.

The horned fae can do nothing but open and close his jaw, blood spilling from his mouth as he stumbles away from the redcap across from him. Horror paints his features for a brief second before anger is taking over, watching as Mingi drops the now severed muscle in his hand, the horned fae’s tongue thudding against the floor.

“I warned you.”

Without another word, Mingi is storming outside the tavern to get some fresh air. The rest of the fae around him immediately part to let him pass, low whispers following him all the way outside. His hand clenches repeatedly, feeling disgusted by the wet warmth that covers his fingers.

Normally, Mingi would revel in the feeling. He loves the way blood coats his skin when he goes in for the kill, not to mention maiming something that annoys him. Sure, he has his morals, but that doesn’t mean he won’t put in the effort when the time calls for it.

Mingi doesn’t quite exactly know why he reacted the way he did. He put up with his men boasting about wanting to do much worse to you while back in the encampment. Yet, how three unknown fae could rile him up so easily only makes the confusion and anger he’s feeling all the more prominent.

It’s only because you’re still technically on a hunt with him. You’re not home free just yet. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He has to make sure you both make it back unharmed, and that includes not letting other fae take advantage of you.

No other reason. 

None at all.

Taking a deep breath in, Mingi lets the crisp night air fill his lungs. He flicks his wrist, more blood splattering against the ground as he scowls down at his hand. His whole body is tense, and he’s surprised his teeth don’t crack from the force at which he clenches his jaw.

He should probably check on you soon. It’s been a long day, and all he wants to do is rest. No more dealing with this stupid shit for the moment. It’s time for him to turn his brain off.

Besides, he could use the downtime.

Heading back inside after about five more minutes, Mingi flexes his hand. The now dried blood cracks over his skin, and a feeling of unease settles inside his chest. The other three fae are nowhere to be seen, and at the way a few of the other patrons spare looks his way out of the corners of their eyes, he can tell something is off.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

***

For half an hour, you do not move from your spot. 

Your ankle throbs as you curl up on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as best as you can. A familiar position, as you find your tears quickly depleting as your entire being goes numb.

Blankly, you stare at the opposite wall. You were this close to getting him to kill you, and you don’t know if you’re more upset at yourself or him for not seeing it through.

It’s not like you trusted him, nor do you necessarily trust him in general. However, faced with the same scenario you’ve played out so many times before, all you could see was that monster covered in blood, ready to strike you down once more.

There’s a bitterness that builds within your chest, but you don’t know if it’s at yourself, or the fae. You were so close to being done with all of this. Are you that horrible at committing to something, and seeing it through, that not even a fae wants to kill you? Are you that useless that you can’t even do that right?

Taking in a shaky breath, you finally push yourself up into a sitting position. Your whole body groans in protest, muscles aching due to the position you had been laying in on the cold, hard floor. Slowly, you pull yourself to your feet, mindful of the twinge in your right ankle as you hobble over to one of the side doors.

You’re pretty sure you saw a bathroom on the way in.

Time seems to pass languidly, and much too quickly all at once. By the time you pull yourself out of the tub, you have no idea if the redcap has returned or not. You didn’t hear his telltale footsteps stomping through the room, but you’ve learned that he can be quite light on his feet when he wants to be. Who knows how much time you have left to yourself, anyways.

As you’re drying off, you can faintly hear a commotion coming from the direction of the stairs. It seems as if one of the patrons has gotten too rowdy, for all seems to still a moment later.

You shake your head, wrapping the surprisingly fluffy towel around your plush body, and limping back into the main area of the room. The redcap is nowhere in sight, but there seems to be a fresh pile of clothes laid out on the bed. There’s even a clean set of undergarments for you, and as you look closer, you realize that it’s actually your old set. Upon a thorough inspection, they appear as if brand new, washed and dried to perfection.

Such a small gesture, whether through some form of magic, or something else, causes your heart to swell. It’s been a long time since you’ve had anything done for you like this, and to say it means a lot would be a tremendous understatement.

Feeling the material of your undergarments between your fingers, you let out a soft sigh through your nose. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you begin to change, managing to pull everything on quickly. There’s still a faint warmth clinging to the material of the clothes, as if they’ve been left out in the sun for too long, or have rested beside an open fire. It calms you, and breathing starts to become a little bit easier.

Standing from the bed, you can hear muffled voices begin shouting at each other from down the hallway. You figure them to be other patrons staying overnight, so you think nothing of it to walk towards the bathroom to hang your towel upon the back of the door. You’re sure you saw a little hook there before…

Just as you go to reenter the bathroom, the main door to the room swings open. You expect it to be the redcap returning from wherever it is that he went, but instead, what you see, or rather, whom, has you freezing right in your tracks.

Three unfamiliar fae stand before you. One has light green skin and horns, who seems to be bleeding from his mouth. Another has large wings, akin to a butterfly, with a neutral coloured pattern painted over them. The third is very human-like in appearance. He’s shorter than his two companions, with pointed ears, sharp teeth, and claws that adorn his features.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here.” The one with the wings steps forwards, a malicious grin tugging at his lips.

Naturally, you take a step backwards, your heart jumping into your throat. Your eyes dart between the three fae as they creep towards you, matching their pace with each step backwards you take. In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder if it was the redcap that gave them the key to unlock this room.

“Don’t act so coy, Doll,” the human-like fae drawls, his fangs prominent as he smiles wickedly at you. “We’re only here to have some fun. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Please, I don’t want any trouble,” you say weakly, lifting your hands before you slightly in a defensive position.

Boisterous laughter greets your ears as the door to the room swings shut behind them, sealing your fate. There’s no way the other fae is going to come back to save you now. You’re stuck, and this time, you really will die at the hands of three unfamiliar fae who look at you like an object they’re going to enjoy ripping apart.

“You should have thought of that before you waltzed in here without a claim, acting like you own the place,” the one with wings spits, and you can hear the green one gargle out something that sounds like a noise of agreement. Only, more blood escapes his mouth, and he ends up spitting it in your direction and onto the floor at your feet.

“You’re not going to look much different than that pile of blood once we’re done with you,” the human-like one says, a sick, twisted sense of glee lighting up his features.

“Until then, you live to serve us.” The butterfly winged fae adds sharply. “We’ll take all the pleasure we can from this pathetic body of yours, and after each round, you’re going to thank us for even bothering to touch you.”

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, skin prickling in disgust as bile builds in your chest. Your stomach drops, and before you can think, you spin on your heel, attempting to make a break out the window.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The human-like fae blocks your path, grabbing your wrists in his hands harshly and holding you in place.

“Let me go!” You begin to thrash around to no avail, tripping over your own feet as you get dragged back and towards the one bed.

“Oh, this one has some fight left in her,” the winged one snickers, leaning casually against the wall as he observes the scene. “Looks like that general was too easy on this one. Guess we’ll have to make up for lost time.”

“You should be thanking us for even looking at a disgusting creature such as yourself.” The one that had dragged you towards the bed throws you upon it, wasting no time in pinning you down upon the mattress.

Your protests and pleas to stop fall on deaf ears. In fact, the more you struggle, the more it seems to delight the three fae closing in around you. Thrashing beneath his harsh hold only earns you a knee to the stomach, and you cry out in pain. 

Tears leak out of the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you feel hands groping you all over as the fae above you keeps you captive beneath him. This scene is all to familiar to you, and just as with all those times before, no one is coming to your rescue. 

No matter how loudly you scream, no matter how much you beg, struggle, and cry, no one will care.

The only certainty that now awaits you is death.

“Stop struggling,” the fae above you hisses, his one hand pinning your wrists above your head as he adds more pressure to the knee digging into your stomach. “Shut up, and take it like pathetic human you are.”

The moment you see the fae reach a clawed hand towards your shirt, you stop breathing. 

It feels as if time stops. One moment the fae is above you, pinning you down unforgivingly. The next, he’s gone, the pressure on both your wrists and stomach completely having disappeared.

A sickening crunch echoes throughout the room, followed by an immediate scream of pain.

A blur moves through the room, and suddenly, you see a wing get tossed towards the window, followed shortly by another. The tearing sounds resonate through the room, followed almost immediately by muffled screams and pleas for mercy.

Only one figure remains within view, and as he uncurls himself into a standing position, his full height looms over the entire room. His towering form fills the space around you, and as you lay upon the bed, you feel as if you can breathe again. Never have you been so grateful to see that terrifying redcap standing across from you, but still you cannot prevent your body from shaking.

“All this for a fucking human.” A voice from the ground spits harshly.

Looking down, you see the green fae cowering in the corner, and the one with the once beautiful butterfly wings laying face down on his stomach. His back is completely torn asunder, blood coating the entire area as his wings lie in torn heaps upon the ground.

“You’re going to break code just for a stupid mortal?” The same fae hisses, pure anger on his features as he trembles beneath the redcap’s piercing gaze.

“You can’t kill us.” The one human-like fae by the window laughs. He seems to be holding his hands before himself, fingers severely deformed and sticking out in odd angles. Bones peek through his flesh, and blood coats every inch of his hands, but that does not prevent the way his whole body trembles as the redcap takes a menacing step towards him.

“You’re not dead yet, are you?” The general spits, gaze sharp as he pointedly looks between all three fae cowering around the room.

Frantically, they shake their heads.

“That’s what I thought.” He snaps, lips pulled over his fangs in a snarl. “I doubt any of you want to chance a duel against me given the state you’re all in. Not that’d you’d survive, even at full strength.”

Again, the three fae shake their head. Though this time, scowls adorn their features.

“Now,” the redcap’s eyes flash, a low snarl permeating the air. “Get out of my sight before I rid you all of yours.”

All three fae scramble for the door, the human-like one managing to trip over his own feet and land harshly on his broken hands. A sharp cry escapes him, and the horned fae ends up having to pull the other to his feet, soon supporting both broken fae as they tumble out of the room.

You can hear the redcap muttering under his breath, leaning down to pick something up from the floor. Not even a second later, and he’s crushed what appears to be a second ward key in his hand, tossing it over his shoulder without another thought.

He turns to you.

There you lie, stiff as a board on top of the one mattress. The other bed lays untouched to your side, but all you can do is stare with wide eyes at the redcap before you. Your gaze darts over the blood splattered on his skin, the red dotting his clothing in random patterns.

Your lungs burn, and your eyes sting. Yet, still, you do not move. No words escape you, not trusting your voice for the moment as you wait for him to move.

He takes a cautious step forward, but you fail to see the way his gaze softens as he does.

A whimper escapes you, another tear sliding from the corner of your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he lifts his hands, palms facing upwards to show you he means you no harm. “Breathe.”

Oh, yeah. You should probably fill your lungs with air. No wonder your chest is burning.

A stuttering gasp escapes you as you heave a large breath into your lungs. However, the second you do, a harsh sob escapes you. Immediately, you’re scrambling back on the bed, a hand clutching over your stomach where that fae dug his knee into you. Your wrists throb, more tears blurring your vision as the redcap takes another step towards you.

“Stay away.” The plea is but a desperate whisper upon your lips, chin trembling as you attempt to curl in on yourself.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Still, he keeps his hands in the air, palms facing towards you. “You have my word.”

Your gaze catches on the blood staining his clothes, smeared over his skin, and you shake your head.

For a moment, you swear you watch his brow furrow, only for realization to line his features. He straightens, doing his best to move in the least threatening manner possible.

“Stay here.” His voice is low, an edge of worry lining his command.

Before you can even react, the fae disappears into the bathroom. You can hear the sound of water, followed by some frantic scrubbing. Then, more water trickling along with the movement inside the bathroom.

The whole time you sit on the bed, your gaze is locked on the little opening where the main door to the room and the door to the bathroom reside. You can faintly hear things being shuffled around you, and you swear you catch something dart across the room out of the corner of your eye. It’s small, and quick, but when you shift your head to look, all that greets you is empty space.

An empty room devoid of any of the mess you just witnessed stain it.

The blood splatters are gone, along with the tattered remains of the one fae’s wings. There’s even a fresh set of clothing at the end of your bed by your feet, completely identical to the ones you’re currently wearing.

You swallow thickly.

Turning your head, you begin to look around the room once more. Your eyes search for one thing in particular, and you find it resting beside you on the bedside table. It’s almost as if it had been placed delicately beside you after someone had realized the horrifying events that have just taken place.

The red spider lilies are crushed, the stem broken in two. The flower that means so much to you has been tread upon like it’s nothing, reflecting exactly how you feel in this moment. Only a few petals remain, wilted and dead, clinging to the plant for dear life in a final attempts to maintain what once was pure.

Slowly, you reach over and take the dying stem into your trembling grip.

A choked sob escapes you, and you’re quick to slap a hand over your mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut. The hand you have holding the flower also clutches at your throbbing stomach as your whole body shakes with the weight of your situation.

What you’ve been through - what you’re going through - you cannot take it anymore.

The hand that caresses the top of your head is soft, but the unexpected touch still makes you nearly jump out of your skin. Pain lingers in your gaze as you turn to see the redcap staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

No, not unreadable. You just cannot accept that someone is actually looking at you in concern, rather than pity for once.

He pulls his hand away, hesitant in the way he leans the slightest bit over the bed that you’re curled up on. His normally looming figure doesn’t seem so intimidating all of a sudden, almost as if his features have softened beneath the faint glow of the moon.

You watch him carefully, observing his every movement with a wary glint to your gaze. He saved you. He protected you, and you don’t know if that scares you more than if he had sent those other three fae after you like you had originally thought. His actions confuse you, and more than anything, you’re tired. 

Exhaustion doesn’t even come close to the immense fatigue you feel. You’re tired of the life you were given. Tired of the life you’ve been forced into. Tired of living.

Honestly, you don’t know what to do anymore. It seems accepting your fate isn’t going exactly as you thought it would, nor is it as easy as it seems.

“Are you hurt?” Though he keeps his voice soft, the sudden timbre cutting through the silence of the room still makes you jump.

You shake your head, hand tightening around that broken flower over your stomach.

His eyes glance the movement, and his expression falls slightly.

“I only wish to make sure you’re okay.” Again, he keeps his voice soft, tone steady as he meets your gaze.

You bite your lower lip, attempting to keep it from wobbling as a single sob wracks your entire body. Then another, and then another, until you’re breaking down before his very eyes.

Tears stream down your face as you continue to muffle your sobs behind your one hand. Your eyes squeeze shut, simply wishing to disappear in this very moment. You wish you had never been born, where nothing but servitude, injustice, and hell rule your life with an iron grip.

From the very first memories you can recall, someone has always been using you. Whether it be your parents, friends, or other family members, you’ve always lived to serve. No one has ever cared for you, and no one has ever fought for you.

It all feels like one big joke. A lie concocted by the monster stalking you through your every waking nightmare, ready to jump out and laugh at you for even thinking anyone could ever care for you.

Yet, despite the darkness swirling within, a light begins to peek through.

Softly, the bed dips as the fae rests a knee on the mattress. His hand strokes gently over your head, tentatively pulling you into his arms as he settles himself against the headboard.

“Shh, it’s okay,” his voice is calm, soothing. “I’ve got you.”

He holds you against his chest, cradling your head in the palm of his hand. He’s hesitant as he comforts you, making sure his arms are loose enough to allow you to pull away if need be. Only, you do not shy from his touch, instead finding it oddly satisfying that he of all creatures chose to comfort you.

Most important of all, you let him.

“I won’t let anything else harm you,” he says softly. “Not while I’m here to protect you.”

His one hand strokes lightly over your back, and though a shiver caresses your spine at the first touch, you find yourself melting into the warmth of his embrace. It’s soothing, and everything you’ve always needed but have never gotten in your entire life. A safety that shouldn’t be as welcoming as it is.

His body is firm and lean against your own. A solid foundation which holds you steady as you cling onto the fabric of his now clean shirt with your one hand. Your sobs are muffled into his chest, your sadness being absorbed into the material adorning his skin as he cradles you to him.

After some time, you feel his one hand shift downwards, placing itself over your own on top of your stomach. The warmth that you can feel radiating from his skin is welcomed, and it helps to ease the ache you feel lingering within. Softly, he begins to hum, his chest vibrating with the gentle sounds as he continues to cradle your head to his chest using his opposite hand.

The steady sound of his heart pulses beneath your ear, and the constant sound soothes you even further. You don’t realize it, but you curl in closer into him, breathing finally evening out as you start to calm down.

“Why did you-“ You swallow the dryness in your throat, sniffling lightly. “Why did you do that?”

Though your voice is barely above a whisper, you know he still hears you loud and clear.

“I… don’t know,” his brow furrows slightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “My body just moved.”

You say nothing in response, unsure of how to reply to such an admission. You know that he cannot lie, but that doesn’t mean he cannot stretch the truth. Really, you shouldn’t be letting yourself be coddled by him, it’ll only make it hurt more when he betrays you in the end. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

You are so used to disappointment, of having false hope, that anything you believe to be too good to be true always is. Tomorrow you’ll wake up, and he’ll be back to despising your existence, only finding value in what you can do for him.

The same as it always was. The same as it always will be.

[13xwishes]

{Catastrophe Pt 9} [ cxttynoir ]

"Gigi! I know what Toralei's up to!" Almost desperately, Catty took one of the genie's hands in both of her own. "She's an, she's an animal for using you like this! But you shouldn't have to go along with her. You know that, right?"

Without waiting for an answer, the werecat pressed on. "Or just, let me help you! We'll beat her at her game, together, you and me, okay?"

Catastrophe Pt 9 || @cxttynoir || Unlucky Wishes

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 Mentioned: @sorcerymuses, @muralmxse, @wickedlyxcreepy

Gigi was just about to grant Toralei's written wish when she froze over Catty's next words. She turned back around and listened. No... no, Catty couldn't find out! Not like this!

Not while Toralei still had the pictures!

If the genie breathed air, she would be having a panic attack right now! Catty had no idea how much Gigi WANTED to rebel against the conniving striped cat, but how can she be fast enough before that photo would hit social media!

If that happened, Catty would NEVER be safe from the public again!

Tears began to stream down her face as she gripped Catty's hands tightly before confessing. If Catty was going to know than she had to know everything before Toralei found out!

       ❝ I'm so sorry, Catty. This is all my fault. I wish I could do more, but I cannot. I've tried to confront her but she has the photos of us during our carnival date. She was there that day and followed us. I cannot stop her so long as she has her phone. I don't know what we could do. She's in the crowd right now and I don't want her to overhear us. All I wanted to do was protect you... If anyone found out... ❞

[z-h-i-e]

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

I end up on the fence on the 'write what you know' advice. On one hand, I do it constantly, but on the other hand, I'll go learn things so that I can write what I now know. It's that whole 'method writer' thing for me -- which is, undoubtedly, what I am, because I argue I'm more a storyteller who sometimes writes things down than a writer. Anyone who has spent significant amounts of time with me in Discord has gotten to hear headcanons and scenes and dialogue which may or may not ever be written. But I digress...

What do I know... I feel like I've lived a very blessed life in many regards because of all I've had a chance to experience. I am or have been all of the following: musician, artist, teacher, librarian, retail clerk, professor, politician, advocate, genealogical lecturer, consultant, writing coach, life coach, event coordinator/scheduler, manager, newsletter writer for a historical society. I ran my own business twice. I've worked in the public sector, private sector, and as an independent contractor. I've had many opportunities and had a chance to see things from many facets -- in theatre, for example, I've been a musician in the pit, an actor on the stage, and director behind the curtain, and a playwriter who should have been in the audience but knew the stage manager and got to hang out in the wings.

I seize opportunities - sometimes, I end up a little overwhelmed, but I (usually) overcome the obstacles and succeed. Where we came from and what we know makes us who we are. I was poor twice and middle-class twice. There's a big difference between eating ramen because it's what I could afford and eating ramen because I want to eat ramen (I'm eating ramen right now). All of those experiences start to seep into writing. When I was four years old I almost died. I spent the better part of a week in an oxygen tent. Since then, I've dealt with neurological and muscular issues that suck, but are better than the alternative. I didn't sleep, really sleep, until I was 35, when I was diagnosed with apnea. Sleeping scared me the first time I got a full 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. 8 hours of unawareness. Nightmares were worse -- no one should have their first true nightmare in their mid-30s. That shit was really hard to unpack. My therapist should have been paid double the going rate for that year. (I'd had some weird fever dreams prior to that -- around ten years earlier, I had a second 'shouldn't have lived through that' experience when I rocked a temperature of 106 for several days -- but those were nothing compared to actual nightmares.)

Fanfiction is a much cheaper alternative to therapy (and, solidly gets an A+ from my therapist as one of my top coping mechanisms). It's journaling about life, it's sharing ideas, it's documenting daily journeys, it's fun and relaxing, and I've been doing it since I was 8. That is a significant stretch, really. The first piece was turned in as a school assignment. I used to write fanfiction for Super Mario Brothers, Rocky & Bullwinkle, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and of course, ThunderCats. And I'd read it to classmates during class time, voices and all. I got to do my junior year cultural paper on Klingons, and I gave a lecture senior year on literary sources and their connection to the themes and storylines in ThunderCats. I have continued to read fanfiction in public at open mics and other events - it's the best way to mainstream and normalize it, and gosh darn it, it's been a far easier nerdom thing to normalize than furry bowling nights were. (I do miss furry bowling night, though. But I digress.)

So I do end up writing about things I know, and I've lived long enough to have a whole bag of holding full of experiences and memories to draw from -- and when I don't know something, I (usually) want to go and learn about it. I took up kickboxing and karate in college so that I could learn how to better write fight scenes. I spent a month of driving on my own to places I'd never been before to get into Fingon's head a little more (because you know, rescuing Maedhros was not the first time Fingon up and left on his own). I keep a bow at the door, next to my red shoes, because I think that's what Beleg would have done. I took the golden flowers growing at the house we live in as the sign that we should buy that house, even though it was a short sale and a pain in the ass to get through, because I was going to find a way to live in the House of the Golden Flower even if it took all summer (and it just about did). Then we planted strawberries there, for Samwise, because you know he and Rosie would absolutely have strawberries growing in their garden. (I can't take credit for the fox that lives in our yard - he showed up on his own - but it's as good of a second confirmation sign as any that we did end up in the right place.)

So that's a lot, and my lunch is almost over, but I almost feel like the question is less what do I know and more what do I not know. Everyone draws a line somewhere.

Horses. I do not know horses. Middle-earth has a lot of fucking horses in it. He's got a horse, she's got a horse, this elf over here's got a war horse, this other one has a war horse but it has jingle fucking bells on it... yeah. Lots of horses. Now, I'm in a state with lots of farms. Fair amount of horses. I see five different horses on my drive to work every day. Why is horses not a thing in the what we know category... well, I'm pretty convinced that with a head that size, you never know when one is going to open its mouth like an alligator and eat you. I'm not taking chances. Don't talk to me about logistics or physiology. I didn't make it this far in life to be eaten by a horse. So we're going to play it safe on this one and just read a book. I have a bunch of books about horses. Riding horses, fancyass dressage books, horse identification. People see my books, they say, wow, you must like horses! Hells no. You ever hear the whole 'keep your friends close, keep your horses that might eat you in two bites closer' line? Well, now you have. So that which I do not know and do not experience comes from books.

The end.

Thank you for your question, Anonymous.

[thesilversun]

Tagged by @heyholmesletsgo :) Slightly stretched the ruled as I've posted more like first paragraph, rather than just the first sentence.

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

1. There is no other choice he could have made, Lan Wangji tells himself. Certainly no fairer one. (Scars Etched in Heart and Mind)

2. Gallifrey had reappeared. One day it had been gone and the next it was back. Or at least that was what both Fitz and the Doctor remembered, although given the state of their respective memories neither could be completely sure. The TARDIS, if she knew any different, wasn't letting on. (In All the Worlds)

3. They are travelling to the north of Yiling when they hear of it, a small mountain village that is suffering the preditations of a dangerous, unknown creature. It is not an unusual tale, a small insignificant place that is too far from any of the major sects for them to notice and too poor to be able to buy the help they need. (New Horizons)

4. Discussion conferences were all the same as far as Jiang Cheng was concerned. It didn’t seem to matter where they were held, there would always be someone who would complain about how far they’d had to travel and very little that was discussed would actually be resolved in the end. In fact more often than not everyone would go away with more things to sort out rather than less. (Finding Our Own Ways Forward)

5. There was noise, movement and light. It was chaotic, painful and Wei WuXian slipped back into unconsciousness almost immediately. (Futures Written on Shifting Sand)

6. He’s winning the fight. Winning right up until the moment he’s suddenly very much not.

Baxia’s heavy blade slices through the vines, yet for every one Nie Mingjue cuts two seem to take its place. Yet there’s no fear. For now there’s nothing but anger, nothing but himself and the sabre spirit fighting at one, the fierce, wild joy of battle in his veins. (Twisted Coils)

7. The presence in his shop was as unmistakeable as it was totally unexpected. It had been months since they'd helped to avert the apocalypse and had pulled the switch and fooled their respective sides. Time in which they had been left alone to finally being to explore the parts of their relationship that they'd previously felt unable to act upon for fear what would happen. (All the Lies)

8. It shouldn't get to him, not after all this time, Crowley thought miserably. It was stupid. He was stupid, he chastised himself as he tried to blank out the news footage he'd unfortunately managed to see. (Just Pretend (and one day it may be okay)

9. There was only so long you could function on adrenaline and outright terror alone. Fitz had got rather good at predicting just how long that was. He suspected that anybody who travelled with the Doctor for any length of time would do as well. He also liked to imagine that he was the best at it. Well everybody had to have a talent didn't they? (All Fall Down)

10. Time was fracturing. Had fractured. Would fracture. All futures and pasts were true and all were a lie at the very same moment.

It's disorientating. A bad case of temporal vertigo if ever he'd had one. The Doctor closes his eyes, the sense of falling through time, all of time, in all directions, all at once, making him giddy. (Fractal Time and Temporal Vertigo)

Tagging anyone who would like to play.

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 15th January

I surprised myself by knowing not just one but both of these songs. That's still pretty uncommon, enough to warrant a mention in the intro, for sure. Though both do look like they've become standards, of a sort, so perhaps it shouldn't be too surprising that I knew them? I feel like a lot of the songs from this era were covers of standards, which does give them a sort of sticking power that I suspect a lot of modern chart hits maybe lack. Still, bodes well.

Baby Face - Little Richard (peaked at Number 2)

I know this song, though not from any particular version - rather, my memories of this is linked to a choir even that I was part of in maybe Year 7. It was mostly this choral event themed around the Titanic, and there was a local songwriter who had written a whole long choral work retelling the story of the Titanic (cheery stuff), but then in the second half of the event we just sang a bunch of old-timey songs. One of which was this, I'm pretty sure - though a much more 1920s sounding version of the song that I still remember, but not hugely fondly. In my memory, it was an old-fashioned bit of vaguely mushy cheese. Hence why I was actually kind of surprised when I saw Little Richard doing a version!

But yes, it's the same song. Turns out Baby Face is a standard dating back to 1926 (so not exactly the 1910s, which I'd kind of assumed, given that we sang it at a Titanic-themed event?). A bunch of recordings were made throughout the 1920s and 1930s, it seems to have gone quiet through the 1940s and earlier 1950s, and then this recording kickstarted what looks like a wave of slightly more R&B-styled versions, and it's been a fixture since then, with versions recorded all the way through the 1960s and 1970s and even a few from the 1980s and 1990s. Not bad for a song that I'd firmly associate with a generation a little older than my grandparents.

I have to say, it's almost sickeningly saccharine stuff. Lots of lines about how you've got the cutest little baby face and about how I'm up in heaven when I'm in your firm embrace. There's just about enough edge to Little Richard's voice that he gets away with it, but even so, he can't quite avoid sounding a bit smarmy. That said, the gusto with which he rips into the mnm-baby after the sax solo almost justifies the whole thing. I think it's the tiny little "mmm" that does it, it's almost enough to distract you from the cheese-fest that are the lyrics. Almost.

The sax solo that I mentioned is also pretty great. It sounds like whoever's playing is having a whale of a time. As is the drummer, actually, just thumping along through the whole thing, having fun with it - there's an attack and a drive to it, combined with a bit of piano, that creates this wonderfully full, thick background to the whole song. I think rock and roll is pretty good at that, at just blasting you with a block of thumpy, continuous sound - which is probably what you needed, on 1950s radios and gramophones and TV speakers, come to think of it.

To Know Him Is to Love Him - The Teddy Bears (2)

Another song I know, though this time I just know it as a song, not because I've sung it. Which is a shame, because I think I'd have enjoyed singing this a lot more than I enjoyed Baby Face. It's a stately, melancholy sort of torch song, played in 12/8 time, which gives the whole thing this lilting, elegant feel that's very appealing.

It was by the Teddy Bears, a vocal group best known for originating this song, and also for being including as a vocalist one Phil Spector, a man I we'll be hearing quite a bit more from. He's the songwriter here, and the song was apparently inspired by the inscription on his father's gravestone, of all things, which said that "To Know Him Was to Love Him". Phil apparently saw romantic potential in this, and made it into an honestly kind of beautiful song about being in love with somebody: To know, know, know him / Is to love, love, love him / Just to see him smile / Makes my life worthwhile / To know, know, know him / Is to love, love, love him / And I do, oooh, I do.

I really love the simplicity of all that, the feeling that it's almost impossible not to love this mysterious person, and that even just seeing him smile has this sort of transformative effect on the singer. And kudos to the singer, Carol Connors, because you can 100% hear the affection and love in that and I do lyric, which almost certainly is meant to mimic wedding vows a bit. It's a warmth and a fondness that carries through into the initially promising lines about how I'd be good to him, and about how everyone says there'll come a day / When I'll walk alongside of him. In this initial part of the song, everything seems to be coming up roses, and this is the part of the song that I think I knew before listening.

And then the second half of the song comes and just blows me away. Because at some point, without ever feeling jarring, the song turns on a dime, with this huge soaring note from Carol as she asks why can't he see me? / How blind can he be? / Some day he will see / That he was meant for me. Which immediately changes the tenor of the song. Suddenly, there's something a bit pitiful about how Carol's hanging on for a single smile, desperately trying to reassure herself that everyone can see them together, that someday he's got to notice her. There's so much yearning and longing in it, and setting it off, just these absolutely beautiful harmonies from the two male members of the band. I don't have quite enough music theory to explain why the particular chord progression chosen work so well for me, but they're absolutely gorgeous throughout the second half, soft and understated but still somehow stirring. I like it a lot.

Somehow, this feels like a recording that could have been made (and been a hit) in the 1960s. Or maybe I'm just projecting onto it, given that Phil Spector, 1960s pop auteur extraordinaire, had a hand in it. But I also do think there's something almost a bit Mamas and Papas about the mixed vocal group, especially in the middle bit, once the song turns all angsty. I don't know. Either way, it's a forward-facing sound.

Both of these songs were great, and both have rightly been recorded many, many times. Still, of the two of them, one sounds considerably more forward-facing, and it's not the one that originated in 1926. It's also cool to see Phil Spector actually singing - I didn't realise he made his start in a band. It kind of makes sense that he would, he's just a lot better known as a producer. Which is fair enough, because despite this record's success, the Teddy Bears didn't have many other hits, and disbanded later in 1959, leaving Phil free to apprentice to the legendary Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller in New York - which is where he really hits his stride. So yeah, watch this space, I guess?

Favourite song of the bunch: To Know Him Is to Love Him